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erwinsvow · 5 months

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GOT WHAT YOU WANTED

summary: you're rafe's best friend—kelce and top's too, but there's always been something more between the two of you. neither of you will do anything about it. clearly, the solution is to become friends with benefits.

now spinning: too many nights by metro & future

word count: 11.5k

warning/tags: kook trio reader, using jj to make rafe jealous, mentions of drugs/partying, jealous/possessive rafe and reader, smut !, rafe deals coke. tysm to @zyafics for beta’ing & helping me so muchh & @inimamea for being so lovely and supportive. tysm to all the lovely anons who have been supporting and loving this concept from the start, i hope u all love this ♡ (but sorry in advance if u don’t)

truth be told, you didn’t like making rafe angry.

it wasn’t fun for you, like other things were—watching your boys play golf while you lounged in the cart with the cold drinks, picking out a pretty outfit for the day, crashing on the couch at tannyhill with your head in rafe’s lap and feet over kelce’s legs.

those were fun things. what you were doing now, with jj, was something borne of necessity. you’re not a mean girl. you find it tough to be mean to anyone except rafe, actually, and only because he dishes it back and you know his feelings aren’t really hurt, but right now you were being mean.

to jj that is.

you smile at the blond boy seated next to you, the golden glow of the bonfire casting its warmth onto both of you. you laugh at another joke he makes, but only half-hearted, taking another sip of the beer he’d gotten you from the keg.

jj’s funny, he’s sweet too. it’s not his fault you wish you were seated next to your best friend instead of him, drinking a strawberry seltzer from the case that rafe keeps in the back of his truck specially for you.

“so?” jj asks, and you turn from staring at your shoes to look up at him. he’s looking at you with a smile, a very charming smile that you could have a lot of fun with, except you’re starting to feel bad about toying with him like this.

“so?” you repeat back, softly. he leans in a little to hear you. you feel a little warm at the action, but it could just as easily be from the fire.

jj’s nice—and you’ve always liked nice, preferred it to almost anything. every boy you had ever introduced to your trio had been nice, though rafe hadn’t ever cared. he’d hated them from the moment he’d laid eyes on them. you wonder now when you let him seep into your mind like this, with every other thought about rafe rafe rafe. somewhere in between accepting jj’s invitation to come to the bonfire with him and getting jealous over the fact that rafe was seeing some random girl.

“you didn’t tell your other boy about this, did’ya?” you look up at jj with eyebrows knitted, puzzled.

“other.. boy?”

“cameron.” now you really flush—you certainly don’t want jj to think rafe is your other anything.

“no, no. we’re not dating. we’re just friends.”

“right, okay. you tell him about tonight?”

“no. it didn’t come up.”

“ah. got it.”

“why?” you ask, and before you can look around, jj stares into the distance, gesturing with his eyes to a blurry figure.

“nothin’. he’s just been starin’ at us since we sat down, so i figured, but-” you stand up, looking into the distance where rafe was. you can feel yourself turning green with envy, red with rage, watching him stand next to the same girl he’s been with, her looking at rafe while rafe looks at you.

you sit back down on the log, wrapping a hand around jj’s arm and pulling him down to sit beside you. from this angle, rafe can’t make out anything but your backs, and maybe the lack of any real distance between you and jj.

“sorry,” you say, sweetly, almost having regained your wrath the second you saw the two of them standing together. “he’s crazy.”

“s’okay. not news to me, princess.” jj takes a pause, and you chew your cheek, trying to decide how far you were willing to take this. “you okay?”

“yes. why wouldn’t i be?”

“well, uh, it doesn’t take a genius. even though, y’know, i am one, to know somethin’s up.” “no, jj, i promise, we’re ju-” “just friends, yeah, i got it. i mean, i don’t know what type of friends exactly, but uh, i like you. and i’ll like you even if he has a problem with it. so up to you, really.” you glance up at jj, who is being nicer to you right now than you deserve.

and you hate it, hate every second of it. you hate how rafe makes you feel, how angry and jealous you get, the fact that you even started talking to jj when in the back of your mind you knew it was because rafe would get upset over it.

but you also hate what rafe’s doing, the girl he’s with and the way he’s with her, the fact that he brought her here and still won’t stop shooting daggers into jj’s head. in short, you hate all of it.

you lean in, resting your head against jj’s shoulder.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know what’s going on with him. but, he’s here with a girl.”

“and you’re here with me.” jj wraps an arm around you.

“yes, but not because-well, i don’t know.” it feels stupid coming out, but if jj thinks that, he doesn’t show any signs of it.

“s’okay. don’t always have to know.” you keep your head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth he brings. “by the way, he’s still watching.” you smile, though you can’t tell which boy elicited it. “i mean, not gonna complain if i get to be your boy toy for a little but, nice to know you care-” you giggle, pulling away to put your drink on the sandy ground.

“you’re telling me you don’t want a sugar mama?” he laughs at your words and you relish in it.

it could be picture perfect—waves crashing in the back, the fire flickering in front of you, stars sparkling above. jj keeps his hand on your cheek and leans in for a kiss, and you find yourself leaning too, when the voice of your best friend breaks the silence. you pull away from jj to look up at rafe standing behind you.

“hey. we’re goin’. c’mon.”

“rafe-” you start, but you get interrupted. jj stands, facing rafe.

“hey buddy, we’re a little busy. but uh, i’ll make sure she gets home safe-”

“guys-”

“wasn’t fuckin’ talkin’ to you, pogue-”

“tuck her into bed, and everything. don’t worry your little head ‘bout it-”

“m’gonna knock your little head out if you don’t get the fuck away from-” having heard enough, you drag rafe away by his arm, your pretty nails digging in harshly.

“what the fuck was that, rafe?” you ask, though you feel the bitterness coursing through your veins. how’s that fair—that he parades his girlfriend around you, at the club and here at the bonfire, but you can’t so much as spend a moment alone with jj.

whatever reservations you had just held about using jj to make rafe jealous seem to have gone far away. instead you’re just angry—he wants his own girlfriend and he wants you without a boyfriend too. you turn to look back at the boy you left behind at the fire. jj gives you a thumbs up.

“how many times do i have to fuckin’ tell you to-to stay away from that pogue-”

“he has a name,” you counter, so defensive because jj was being nice to you even when he didn’t have to be, helping you even with no gain for himself. “and you can’t order me around, okay? you brought a girl here but i can’t talk to jayj? how does that make any sense?”

“stop yellin’,” he barks, grabbing you by the arm now, and guiding you away.

“why? afraid someone might hear us? like your little girlfriend? where’d she go, by the way, i bet she’s missing you right about now-”

“shut up. shut it.” you don’t realize how far rafe’s dragged you until you shake out of his tight grip, standing next to his truck on the street.

“i’m sick of this rafe.” it comes out quieter than you intend, tears prickling up. you hate crying, especially infront of the boys but even more so infront of rafe. “i’m not stopping my life and boys that i wanna see, and relationships i want to have because you’re not okay with it. not when you have your own girlfriend. it’s not fair.”

“i don’t. i don’t have a girlfriend.” you roll your eyes, he watches it happen with a tight fist, jaw clenching.

“yes, you do.”

“no, i don’t.”

“you don’t?” you question, unbelieving. “you just.. walk around with the same girl for weeks. take her everywhere. but she’s not your girlfriend?” you’re snarky like always—you still don’t know if he likes it or not.

“no, she’s not.”

“bullshit. at least get your fucking story straight, rafe. that girl’s probably half in love with you-” “m’not dating her. and if it bothered you so much how come you didn’t say something, huh? you pull this shit with fuckin’ maybank instead?”

“i’m not pulling anything with jj.” you lie through your teeth, hoping rafe bites. “i-i like him.”

“no you fuckin’ don’t.”

“who are you to tell me-”

“you don’t like him. what you like is makin’ me fuckin’ angry. well, it worked. stay the fuck away from him. and get in the goddamn truck.”

you groan loudly, the noise almost a scream and filling the quiet street. but you comply, getting into the passenger seat and letting rafe drive you home—to your house, not tannyhill like every other night. when he pulls up to your house, you resist the urge to get out without saying anything at all.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, kid.” you sigh, looking back up at rafe.

“that’s it? you’ll see me tomorrow?”

“what else do you want me to say, huh?”

“are you just gonna ignore all of that? what the hell was that?”

“m’not ignoring anything-”

“so, i can’t see jj anymore. are you still seeing her? who am i allowed to date then? kelce? top? do you have a pre-approved list for me?”

“shut up.”

“rafe,” you sound serious, as serious as he’s ever heard you, shifting in your seat to look right at him. he looks back, his knuckles white on the steering wheel at the mention of you dating kelce or top or anyone. “i’m not gonna stay single forever. i know your alpha-male tendencies don’t agree with it, but girls have needs too. i want-”

“what? what do you want?”

“the possibility of getting laid without you screaming at every boy i talk to would be nice.”

“don’t talk like that.”

“rafe.”

exasperated, you unlock the door and climb out, not turning back to say goodnight. the last twelve hours seem like a blur, between texting jj and actually seeing him and rafe’s reaction to it. you’re not sure what kind of reaction you really wanted out of him, but you’re not happy with the one you got. you don’t know what, if anything, would have pleased you.

that night, you go to bed angry and wake up sad. jj texted you something but you can’t find the heart to look at his message yet.

you’re sure the boys have something planned for today, like they always do, but the idea of opening the groupchat to look at what they decided on makes you feel sick. so you stay home instead, showering off yesterday’s anger and wondering why rafe thinks you don’t deserve to have a boy in your life to fool around with, to date, to do anything with.

the answer, sharp and painful like the jagged end of a piece of glass, hovers in your mind. you try to push it away.

rafe’s wrong—like always. you really don’t like making him angry, like it even less that your routine is disrupted and that for the first time in a long time, you don’t want to see your best friends today. brushing your hair, the sound of your bedroom door opening snaps you out of your thoughts.

“c’mon kid. get dressed. top’s got tee time at two and we booked lunch before.” you turn to look at rafe but don’t budge. he takes a look at you—dressed in one of his old frat shirts and plaid shorts that barely peak out.

you look pretty all the time but it feels the worst, the hardest to deal with, when it’s just the two of you alone like this, none of the shit that you do for other people, for outside the house—the makeup, the hair, the nice clothes. when you’re pretty like this it’s just for him, since no one else gets to see you, no one but him. you probably didn’t even notice you were wearing one of his shirts—something that leaves him feeling more pleased than he should be. but like always, he’s not gonna tell you any of that.

“are you adding deaf to stupid?” he asks, and you roll your eyes, letting out an irritated huff.

“i’m not coming. go away.” you turn around on your vanity chair to face your mirror, continuing brushing your hair. rafe walks up behind you, staring at you in the mirror.

“c’mon. lunch is at the place you like. i’ll even talk to you when kelce and top are up.”

“is that your way of apologizing?”

“it’s not an apology.”

“of course it’s not. why would you say sorry? you probably don’t think you did anything wrong.”

“i didn’t.”

“mm-hm. when does rafe cameron ever do anything wrong?” you keep brushing your hair, staring at yourself in the mirror instead of at him. “psycho.”

rafe yanks the brush from your hand, spinning your chair around to face him. he boxes you in, his hands resting on the armrests. he’s too close to you, it makes his head spin. you wish he’d stop, you know he’s not going to. you watch with bated breath, wondering what’s coming next.

“i… didn’t mean to make you upset.” you keep staring up at rafe, blinking fast. “and i didn’t see it from your side. so, m’sorry. about that part. nothin’ else.” you can’t help the slow smile that grows on your face—rafe, apologizing, and to you of all people. you thought you’d never see the day.

“thanks rafe.”

“alright. get ready. truck’s still runnin’.” he pulls himself upright, freeing you of the restraint. you can hear the bass of the music in his car, the future song audible from your open window.

“that’s bad for the environment. and i didn’t say i forgave you.” snatching the hairbrush back, you resume your motions. you hear rafe groan and it’s hard to hold back the smile. maybe you did like making him angry.

“kid.”

“what? i heard your apology, and i don’t accept it. hope you girls have fun at golf-” rafe leans back in, holding your jaw shut between his fingers.

“do you ever shut up?” you shake your head from your position, though you can’t really move. “what’s it gonna take, huh? you want my permission to fuck ‘round? sleep with some, some fuckin’ nobody? some pogue? tough shit. you’re not gettin’ it.” he lets you go, and you rub your jaw tenderly.

“but you get to do it?”

“that’s different-”

“no it’s not! you’re just a dick. and sexist. who am i supposed to sleep with, then?” you shoot back.

“i don’t fuckin’ know, kid. me, i guess. at this point-”

“ha-ha funny. you’re an-” when you finally get up and look at him, he’s staring at you. “what?”

“yeah. that’s fine.” he shrugs, like he’s just decided something trivial, like what to order at lunch or which iron to use. “you can sleep with me.”

“excuse me?”

“yeah. yeah, it’s a good solution. that way you can stay the fuck away from maybank and any other asshole.”

“rafe. shut up.”

“think about it,” he says, and you fall silent to listen, though this is the worst idea you’ve ever heard in your life. “you get what you want. i get what i want. it works out.”

“how is being your pity-fuck remotely close to what i want?”

“sheesh, kid m’tryna help you right now. offerin’ you a solution-”

“rafe?” “yeah?”

“get out.” you walk over the door, swining it open and waiting for him to step out.

“just think ‘bout it,” rafe says, standing by the door but not leaving just yet. “alright?”

“goodbye, rafe.”

you listen to the sounds—him walking down the staircase, the front door closing, his truck taking off. after you’re sure he’s gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding inside.

sleeping with rafe had been nothing more than a drunken thought that occasionally slipped into your mind when he’d be nice to you after some party. curling up next to him at tannyhill every other night certainly didn’t help, but that’s all it was—a thought, not reality.

then you wonder if it’s really such a bad idea. maybe if you just got out all of this pent up energy with rafe, and then worked on finding someone he actually approved of, it would be easier for both of you.

key word: maybe.

the idea that he’s still seeing that girl, the one he keeps denying is his girlfriend, makes you want to puke. he’d have to stop that, that would be part of your agreement.

maybe rafe’s right, maybe you both get what you want out of this, as messed up as it seems. it can’t be the worst idea in the world—kelce and top always joke the two of you are half a couple already.

you go to your closet to pick out an outfit for golf, hoping you weren’t about to ruin your friendship with your best friend.

.☘︎ ݁˖

rafe’s leaning against the bar at the club when you find him. you think he’s got a weird sixth sense, he always knows when you’re around, and he looks up before you’re even near him.

“i knew you wouldn’t pass on lunch. top owes me five bucks.”

“yeah. sure.” you put a hand on the counter to steady yourself—this is harder than you thought it would be. rafe takes a sip of his drink. you want to chastise him, tell him it’s only twelve-thirty and too early for drinking, but nothing comes out. your mouth feels dry and you almost want to chug the rest of his scotch. surprisingly, you refrain.

“what?” rafe asks, and you glance up at him, eyes locked.

“i thought about what you said this morning. what you offered.”

“and?” the bastard looks so smug. you should the slap the smirk off his face but you know what he’s thinking—proud of coming up with the idea himself, thinking he’s doing such a service.

“and.. better the devil you know and all that.” you wait for the other shoe to drop for a moment, for rafe to admit it was all a big prank and you fell for it, and now the boys owe him money or something.

“good. i agree. so should we get outta here, or what?”

“right now?” you question, eyes widening. “what about tee time?”

“you’re the only who’s so horny you’re on the verge of jumping pogues. m’just tryna help you-”

“shut up!”your face heats, looking around to make sure no one heard him. “by the way, between the two of us you’re the only one jumping pogues.”

“yeah, yeah. so not now, then?”

“a gentlemen as always, rafe. no, really, thank you, for showing me chivalry’s not dead.” you roll your eyes again, staring ahead at the bottles behind the bar. you don’t want to turn and look at rafe again, but you do.

“at this rate m’gonna have to show you what friends with benefits means too.”

“shut up.” it comes out like a hiss this time, narrowed eyes focusing in on your best friend and apparently, new fuck buddy.

“yeah, yeah. they’re at the table near the window.”

“thanks.” you walk in that direction, catching a glimpse of top and kelce, but your feet pause for a moment. you stay still, but glance back at rafe.

he’s not leaning against the bar anymore—he’s facing you, staring at you. blue eyes rake over your skin top to bottom, focusing on the pretty sandals and polished white toes, smooth lotioned skin, your short white skirt and tight golf shirt, with one too many buttons popped.

when you’re talking without ever shutting up, it’s hard for him to focus on anything but your glossy lips or long eyelashes fluttering when you roll your eyes. but now he’s taking it in—how easily you agreed to this little idea, how you talk a big game but you don’t seem as hesitant or upset as you were this morning.

you turn back and keep walking towards the table—rafe can tell you’re flushed. he’s fine with it, prefers it this way. anything’s better than you going on dates with strangers, showing them looks and emotions and other things that belong to him.

if you’re horny, all you had to do was tell him. downing the rest of his drink, he goes back to the table and like always, sits next to you.

kelce and top talk about the same old shit, until they focus their attention on you. you’re being quiet, not nearly as talkative or snippy as usual, and you haven’t said a word to rafe the whole time.

“and where’d you two go off to last night?” kelce asks, pointedly looking at rafe while he asks you the question.

“you guys know you left us stranded, right? we all came together. i mean i’m not saying self-absorbed but-” topper adds, but you cut him off.

“you’re really not one to talk about self-absorbed, are you top?” you shoot back, and kelce chokes on his water.

“easy,” rafe says, and normally you’d fire away something at him too, but this time you don’t. “we had somethin’ to take care of. but you got home didn’t you?”

“yes, but-” topper says, but rafe cuts him off again. you hold back a laugh.

“then shut up ‘bout it.”

“kelce’s mom had to pick us up. it was humiliating.” you snort into your lemonade, all four of you bursting into laughter. you turn to ask kelce a follow up question, and rafe’s staring at you while you laugh. something low in your stomach twists, like a butterfly trying to fly out and away.

when kelce and rafe start talking about the course today, topper leans in to say something to you.

“you’re getting mean. y’know that means you’re spending too much time with him.” you transfer your gaze from top to rafe, staring at the boy next to you.

the idea of what you would normally say floats through your head—something funny and earnest but still making top feel better, not saying sorry but making him laugh instead. nothing comes to mind.

“yeah. i guess i am.”

you sit through golf, reading your book in the cart while the boys play nine holes. your phone rings with a call from your parents about an hour in, and when you step away to take it, rafe follows you. the boys protest from the distance—it must have been his turn.

“you goin’ home?” rafe questions, and you jolt at the sound, not realizing he was right behind you.

“god. you scared me.” he doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring down at you. “yes, uh, mom wants me home for something.”

“you need a ride?”

“no, i drove here, remember?”

“oh. yeah. am i gonna see you tonight?” the words make you flush—stupidly, no matter how hard you try to fight it, knowing that they shouldn’t. the two of you are going to be terrible at this. “kid?”

“careful, rafe. you’re starting to sound like a boyfriend.” “yeah. and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

sucking in a breath, tearing your gaze away with pretty blue eyes that are looking at you like maybe that wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world, you’re at a loss for words again. before all of this drama, you could count the amount of times you had been rendered speechless by rafe with no hands—since it had never happened. still with nothing to say, you turn around and start to walk away. foot steps follow you.

“hey, hey. m’joking, it’s just.. a joke. how about i come over later? and we’ll talk about it.” you spin on your heels to face him.

“talk about it? talk about what?”

“our.. arrangement. y’know talk about it..” he tilts his head stupidly and you can’t decide if you want to slap him or kiss him. “..fuck about it.”

“okay! that’s it. bye, rafe.” storming away, you almost wish you hadn’t heard what he called out after you.

“bye, kid. i’ll see you later.”

.☘︎ ݁˖

at ten pm that night, freshly showered and somehow in another one of rafe’s shirts, you were back to where you were this morning—brushing your hair. rafe doesn’t knock on your door, just barges in.

“oh my god-”

“hello to you too.” he steps in, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat on your bed. you spin on your chair to face him.

“how the hell do you keep getting in here?”

“what? your mom let me in.”

“you didn’t even text-”

“i told you at the club. you have selective memory, kid.” he looks you over again. “nice shirt.”

“oh shut up.” you turn away for a moment, setting the hairbrush down, biting your cheek. “so?”

“so?” he repeats. he’s smiling, you can just tell.

“aren’t we gonna talk about our arrangement? that’s what you told me at the club-” you finish in a mocking voice.

“what else is there to talk about? you wanna get laid, i don’t wanna see you with random guys.”

“i still don’t understand what’s wrong with the guys that i-” rafe cuts you off, and he sounds angry.

“of course you don’t understand. you don’t have’t think about this shit, because i think about it for you. what’d you gonna do when some guy starts sleepin’ with you ‘cause me and top pissed him off once? or one of those pogues, huh? to get back at us? take some video of you and send it to everyone? brag and show it off to everyone?”

“oh.”

“exactly. so m’lookin’ out for you. this is better, trust me.” the thing rafe’s saying are making sense. you were on board anyways, but you feel better that there’s a real reason behind it.

“but what about that girl-” you ask, though you don’t know what kind of answer you’re expecting. rafe sighs.

“what about that girl?”

“are-are you gonna sleep with other people too?”

“no. m’too busy anyways. works out for both of us.”

“oh. okay. promise?”

“when have i ever lied to you?” you sigh, about to protest, when he finishes his sentence. “promise.” you feel strangely reassured, like this is a good idea.

“okay. thanks.” you dodge his gaze, playing with your manicured nails, pink this time.

“alright. get on the bed.”

“rafe-”

“what? i just said-”

“you’re not even gonna, like, take me out for dinner first?”

“who the hell d’you think paid for your lunch?”

“i don’t know.. kelce? he got lunch last week. should i go sleep with him next?”

“ha-ha. get on the bed.”

“ugh. you’re so crass. i don’t even know how you get any girls-”

“yeah, yeah. are you gonna shut up now or what?”

you can’t think of anything to say, so you finally follow his instructions, crawling into your bed and sitting up against your pillows to look at rafe.

you’ve see him naked before. he’s seen you naked before. with all the time you spent together on the druthers or at the beach, you should be used to seeing him like this. he yanks off his shirt, pulling it off with a fist in the back over his head.

the first sign that this idea wasn’t going to go as planned should have been now—feeling your breath catch in your throat at the sight in front of you. your best friend shirtless, getting closer to your bed. your eyes rake over tan, muscled skin and the silver chain glimmering around his neck. you don’t realize you moved, body sliding down and back flat against your mattress while rafe starts to lean across the bed, his hand planted next to your head.

rafe’s hovering over you. your breathing shakes for a moment, wondering if it would be this easy for him to do this with any other girl. you dismiss the thought when rafe leans in to kiss you, but it almost seems too wrong to let it happen.

“wait-” you move your head a little so your lips are away from rafe’s. “are you sure? you don’t think it’s gonna be weird?”

“stop bugging out, kid.” he says it low and quiet, and your entire body quivers from the sound.

“answer the question, asshole.” rafe laughs, his hot breath fanning across your cheek. you can’t help it, you laugh too, turning to look at him. you think he’ll be grinning like something’s funny, but your smile dies the second you lock eyes.

he’s not smiling, he looks as serious as you’ve ever seen him. he licks his lips, moving his eyes over your body, his shirt and your bare legs.

“you wearin’ anything under this?”

he moves one of his hands from your knee to your thigh, stroking the soft skin. you curl your leg automatically, head lifting to watch his hands and your entire body trembling under his touch—it’s hot and electric, making your heart beat faster and the hairs on your arm stand up. he looks up from your legs to your face, watches you shake your head to answer no.

“good girl.”

your head falls back onto the pillow when the words leave his mouth. a chuckle leaves his mouth, but still he’s not smiling, it’s more just a noise of pleasure than anything else. rafe sits up between your legs, hands grabbing onto both of your legs and stroking again. he makes his way all the way to your hips, fingers dancing over the waistband of your panties.

you think he’ll stop, maybe at least answer your earlier question, though you can’t remember what you had even asked him. he doesn’t, fingers swiftly hooking around the fabric and pulling them down your legs. you suck in another breath, angling your foot so they fall onto the bed while you keep your eyes locked on him.

“y’ready?” he asks, and you nod, though you’re not sure what you’re agreeing to. his hands go back to your thighs, pushing his t-shirt up to expose more skin. you tense up, but he keeps a palm on your knee. “relax.”

before you can anticipate anything else, he strokes your pussy, which is shamefully wet already, with two fingers, prodding the sensitive skin and gathering wetness. he does that laugh again, like he can’t believe what he’s looking at, and you try to shut your trembling thighs in embarassment, but rafe holds them open.

“rafe-” but before you can finish your sentence, two thick fingers plunge inside you, “oh my god—!”

“hah. good.” when he pushes his fingers out, just to slam them back in, your eyes roll all the way back, another loud moan emitting from your mouth, sounds he’s thought about a hundred times before but still can’t compare to the real thing. but of course, you don’t need to know any of that. “don’t get too loud. y’folks are downstairs, remember?”

you don’t seem to remember. when he picks up the pace, really just wanting to test you and see how much you could take, you start moaning even louder, sweet breathy sounds filling the room. they’re just for him, and normally he’d want you screaming, but he can’t arouse too much suspicious, or your parents won’t ever let him back in the house. his other hand, the one holding your legs open, moves to your mouth, clamping his palm over your lips to keep your noises quiet.

you must like it, you clench around his fingers and your walls flutter when he locks eyes with you, almost hunched over you to keep you quiet while still fucking his fingers—now three, though he didn’t realize when he’d added another—into you.

rafe’s hard, and he can’t remember the last time he was patient enough to wait to get his dick wet, but he likes you like this, not just shutting up for once, but eyes shut and face twisted with pleasure, whimpering into his hand, legs shaking in his grip while you’re wet around his fingers.

“rafe-” you mumble, the sound all muffled. “m’gonna, ohh-” he picks up the pace, shushing you while battering into your pussy, listening to the gasps and whimpers through his palm while you cum all over his hand.

limbs like jelly and throat dry, you lay there, catching your breath. your skin’s hot and flushed, and you stare at rafe while he stares at you.

“what?” you question, and it comes out quiet, soft, like you’ve done something you shouldn’t have. he’s thinking a couple of things, some of which have no business being in his head at all. do you always get this wet? who else has seen you like this? who’s gonna get to hear you moan the way you just did for him some day?

“nothin’.”

“oh. okay.” you sit up against your headboard, pulling your—his—shirt down to cover up a little. “well, thank you.”

“yeah. no problem.” for a second he hestiates—briefly concerned you want him to leave now. “well? come on.” you’re trying to sound like you always do, a little irritated at him, a little snarky. he can see through it this time.

“what?”

“get the condom. you’re the one who said we’re doing it today.” rafe watches for a second, wondering if he should laugh or yell at you, when you pull off his shirt. he stares at you, not moving, wondering why he thought this would be a good idea.

he’s seen you naked before, changing in the same room or when you two lost all boundaries and started walking into bathrooms while the other’s showering, but this seems different. propped against your headboard naked, with your cum on his fingers, asking him to get a condom. now that he’s seen you like this, he has a new life mission of making sure no one else ever gets to.

“god, you’re such a boy.”

“shut up.”

“you shut up. you talked such a big game and now you’re just staring at my boobs-” he moves quickly, fingers on your jaw, actually shutting you up.

“lie down.” biting your lip, you comply, sliding down so rafe was on top of you. “spread your legs.” you move to do so, but rafe uses his hands on your thighs to pull them apart before you can. you can’t look at his face, it almost feels too weird, so you decide to stare at his dick instead, watching him roll the condom on with a puzzled face.

“what?” he’s been looking at your face the whole time.

“nothing. if i had known you were this big i would’ve asked a while ago-” rafe starts laughing, a real one this time, and you burst into giggles too.

“stop-” and he gets closer to you, lining himself up with your wet cunt, “-making me laugh. shut up.”

“you’ve said shut up like thirty times but you won’t stop talking eithe-oh!” he pushes in all at once, and all the breath leaves your lungs. you gasp instead, toes curling, feeling incredibly full, the disbelief that you’re full of rafe quickly fading away.

you should have known he’d be good at this, good enough to actually get you to shut up. he starts a slow pace, thrusting in and out and you look up to see your best friend’s face contorted with pleasure, heavy breaths in your ears and the scent of his cologne overwhelming everything. his chain dangles on your neck, tickling you, and you try to permanently engrain the feeling into your memory.

you attempt to stay quiet, though the slam of the headboard against the wall is a dead giveaway. rafe pushes all the way out and then all the way back in with another slam, and there’s nothing you can do but take it, clamping your hand over your mouth now.

he manhandles your legs into place, pressing them to your chest while he continues the exhausting pace. you can’t discern anything but rafe’s quiet groans and heavy breaths. you’ve just cum but it doesn’t take long for that hot feeling to wind up again in your stomach, toes curling and eyes getting watery. your moans are still muffled, but the way rafe’s looking at you is only making them get louder.

your bottom lip must be bleeding from the way your teeth have been abusing it. rafe moves your hand out of the way and leans in for a hot kiss, his tongue in your mouth and swallowing all of your noises.

with a final oh god, oh god, oh god, moaned into rafe’s mouth, you cum hard around his dick, eyes pressing shut and stray tears falling down, rafe’s lips not leaving yours.

you don’t know why—but you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping the kiss going. rafe pulls away for a moment to breathe and you open your eyes, staring up at him through wet lashes, licking your swollen lips, while he looks back down at you.

he leans in for a final kiss, groaning into your mouth while he spills into the condom, still thrusting in and out of your sore pussy.

rafe rolls off of you, resting on your sheets beside you. you try to catch your breath.

“you didn’t last very long.”

“and how long did it take ya to cum all over my fingers?”

“oh, whatever. where’s my shirt?”

“it’s my shirt,” rafe says back, finding the discarded clothing on the ground and tossing it on your chest. you sit up, sliding his shirt back on. rafe’s standing, pulling on his shorts.

“are you leaving?” you ask, and you regret it the second it comes out, quiet and soft like you want him to stay.

you do want him to stay, but you don’t want him to know that you do. it all feels very complicated and your thighs are aching, your throat dry.

“no.” he sits back down next to you, swinging an arm over your shoulder like he always does. you lean into his chest.

“you kissed me,” you say quietly. you’re glad your face is pressed into his side, you don’t think you could handle looking at his face right now. “and you were quiet. i didn’t expect that.”

“your parents are downstairs, remember?”

“oh. i forgot.” you realize after that you don’t want him to know he fucked you so hard you forgot where you were and who was home.

“is kissing off limits?” rafe asks, and you almost choke processing the sentence. things you never thought rafe would say to you.”

“no.. it was nice.” you pause, listening to the silence of the room and the thud of rafe’s chest in your ear. you’re no expert—though you fear you’re about to become one—but it seems faster than normal. “you want ice cream? or cookies? i made some yesterday.”

“no, kid. it’s fine.” you chew your cheek nervously. you want rafe to want to stay, not just because you asked.

“you can go.. if you need to.” you look up at him and then look back down when he meets your eyes.

“why? got nowhere else to be.”

“oh. okay.”

“turn the tv on. we’ll watch your stupid movie”

“really?” your face lights up, grabbing the remote on your nightstand. you open up the blanket at the foot of the bed, covering both of you while you try to find you’ve got mail. you go back to your position and lean against rafe’s warm body, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. it’s not unusual, he’s done it before, but you don’t miss the fact that he’s decided to do it now. you try to push away the warm feeling blooming in your chest.

“don’t ever make a joke about sleeping with kelce or top again.”

.☘︎ ݁˖

your tired muscles wake up to the sun pouring into your bedroom. the light shines on rafe’s still-asleep figure, but you knew it wouldn’t wake him up, nothing ever does. you don’t remember falling asleep, barely remember anything after rafe showing up.

and the part where you slept with your best friend.

a guilt-trip dangles on the edge, about to take over, when you push it away and focus on the text messages on your phone instead.

top: rafe can’t believe u bailed on cod. u better be dead in a ditch somewhere

kelce: maybe princess finally killed him

top: stop hanging out without us

kelce: top lets just pull up next time

you laugh, and rafe stirs at the sound. you give his arm a shove.

“you ditched playing video games for me? i’m so flattered, rafey.”

“shut up.” he grumbles. “go back to bed. s’too early for this shit.”

“it’s nine in the morning. and i have pilates in an hour.”

rafe turns over, and you can’t deny it’s nice to have him in your bed for once—it seems like you’re always sleeping at tannyhill.

“didn’t get enough exercise last night? you need more?”

you fake a yawn, covering your mouth.

“exercise? what exercise? i don’t remember that. you mean the boring sex?”

rafe sits up, facing you. you choke back a laugh.

“you wanna say that again?”

“uhh-”

“in fact, why don’t you try and get up? ten bucks says you can’t even walk to the door.”

“i can’t believe the two of us even fit on this bed with your gigantic ego-”

“don’t see you walking. m’waiting.” you toss one of your throw pillows at him.

“get out!”

“alright. i’ll say good morning to your parents on my way-”

“okay! wait, stay.”

“s’what i thought.”

“some way to say good morning,” you mumble, scrolling through your other messages—a text from your other friends about a party tomorrow and a reminder for your pilates class.

“you woke me up.”

“oh whatever. i was just surprised you skipped a video game for this. but i guess most boys would.”

“there’s not much i wouldn’t skip for you.” you smile at rafe, misunderstanding him.

“that’s so nice. are you saying i’m a great lay?” he rolls his eyes.

“i’m trying to- shut up. what’d they say?” he picks up his phone.

about twenty minutes later, after checking the hallway (and that too on wobbly legs, just like the smug idiot had predicted) rafe leaves. like always, he says he’ll see you later.

you fall on your bed and dwell on the fact that rafe kissed you last night. it’s hard to focus on anything else, and with every passing second, you think this whole thing was a worse and worse idea.

but he doesn’t seem to think that way. he seemed fine. he’s better at the no-strings-attached thing than you, and you don’t think he would have suggested it if he didn’t think you could handle it.

with that thought lingering, you get dressed for pilates and hope it’s easier to walk before you see the boys again. you find out that it’s really not.

after your class, you check your phone, finding messages from top and kelce. game night and pizza at kelce’s house. you’re invited, of course, but you shoot them a message saying you’re staying home with your parents instead.

the second you press send, rafe’s contact photo lights up your screen.

“rafe?” you answer it without even waiting.

“what, not comin’ tonight? you always come.”

“oh, um-” you pace around your room, trying to think of a lie on your feet. “mom and dad wanted to stay in. you know. game night.” the words feel stupid, though you hope he’ll believe it.

“okay. you gonna swing ‘round after?”

“no, probably not. um, i’ll see you tomorrow?”

“yeah, tomorrow. have fun, kid.”

“you too. tell them i say hi.”

the rest of your day flies by and it’s not long before you’re curling up in bed with a tub of ice cream. your parents went out to dinner with some friends, while you contemplated what the hell you were doing with your own friends.

you four always had a standing date on saturday mornings in the summer—snacks and a spin on the boat. if you don’t go, it’s going to be incredibly obvious something was going on with you.

you call topper while you pack your boat bag—grabbing the necessities the boys always completely forget about; spray sunscreen, an extra baseball cap, a book for you when you inevitably get bored of listening to them talk.

“what’s up?” top says, and you’ve made your way into the kitchen, pulling out fruit to wash and cut.

“what time are we going on the boat? and i’m bringing strawberries and mangoes, is that fine?” topper is the pickiest when it comes to the fruit—kelce and rafe will eat whatever you bring.

“uh, i think noon. call rafe, we’re taking the druthers today.” crap. that’s what you were trying to avoid. it feels crazy the second you think it—trying to avoid rafe. you need to get it together. acting like some love sick girl over your best friend feels like the stupidest thing you’ve ever tried to do. he must bring it out in you. “do you have any of those oranges? the little ones?”

“i’ll bring ‘em. listen, i need to get ready, do you know the time? i’ll just meet you there.” your self-realization is going to have to wait for another day.

“noon, yeah. i’ll text it.”

“thanks top.”

you start an internal monologue on repeat—stop being weird about it. he’s still your best friend. be normal. he is not your boyfriend. you repeat it, but still pick out the prettiest bikini you own, yellow gingham and held together entirely by straps you’ve tied into pretty bows. you throw on one of the boys’ button-ups that’s ended up in your closet somehow on top.

walking onto the pier, you hesitate in front of the druthers. you don’t hear any of the boys, and though nothing’s stopped you from getting on and making yourself comfortable, you wait for a second.

it’s like he knows. rafe steps out from the bridge, and takes one look at you, eyes flicking up and down your body and taking in the yellow fabric that’s barely covering anything, before offering you his hand to get on.

“hey.”

“hey.” you look around. “nice weather.”

“yeah.”

“kelce and top running late? he told me noon.”

“those two are always late.” he’s staring at you, and this time it becomes clear, that he’s looking at you the way a boy who has been inside of you looks at you.

“i packed mangoes. you liked them last time.”

“yeah, i did.”

“i just hope they’re sweet.”

“yeah. they probably are. sweet.” rafe keeps looking, and you turn around to set your bag down. “listen, kid-”

“it’s a great day. good weather.”

“you already said that.”

“oh.”

“would you stop and look at me?”

“no, um,” you start, emptying out your bag onto one of the seats. “sorry, i’m busy.” you feel rafe grab your shoulder, turning you around. he’s not as rough as he could be, like he usually is.

“you okay?” he asks, and you feel stupid.

“i’m fine.. are you okay?”

“yeah. but you’re actin’ weird.”

“well yeah, rafe. we slept together. it’s weird.”

“you were on board-”

“i was. i am,” you clarify. surprising even to yourself, you think you still are. “doesn’t make it not weird. imagine if you and kelce slept together. wouldn’t it be weird?” rafe’s face twists into a mixture of disgust and concern. “okay. bad example. sorry.”

“yeah. m’just saying, i wanna make sure you’re okay. but i don’t regret it if that’s what you’re afraid of. and nothin’ has to change.” hearing him say it makes you feel better. you repeat the words, tasting the feel of it on your tongue.

“right. nothing’s changed. you’re still rafe. i’m still me.”

“it doesn’t have to happen again, if you don’t want it to.” you stare up at him with crossed arms.

“why are you being so nice about it?”

“jeez, kid. what, you-you want me to be a dick ‘bout it? sounds like you’d prefer that.”

“no, just. it’s weird when you’re nice.” you look at him for a second before the two of you start laughing. “y’know what i mean.”

“alright. i’ll stop being nice.”

“thank you. now where are these two? i wanna read my book.”

“probably still sleepin’. played until-” rafe keeps talking, but you realize you’re only half paying attention. he takes his shirt off, and at the very sight of his chain sparkling in the sun, you realize you’re no better than the girls who chase after him. “what?”

“hm?” a little dazed, you look up from his abs to his face.

“you’re starin’.”

“oh. you think we have enough time before they show up?”

“time for what?” rafe stares at you while you stare at him. “oh.”

turns out he thought you did have enough time. you end up with your cheek pressed against the tan sofa in the cabin, body folded with your head down and ass up. rafe’s slamming into you from behind, and though it’s only the second time with him, you think there’s no pleasure in the world comparable.

from this angle he feels even bigger than yesterday. you feel tighter, or maybe it’s just the way your cunt is sucking him in, he thinks, thrusting in and out with his hands grabbing the fat of your ass, watching it bounce with every one of his motions. he has an urge to untie your bikini top, just so he can look at the expanse of the bare skin of your back, but he knows you’ll fuss if he does. he settles for shoving the thin yellow fabric of your bottoms to the side, yanking it so hard that you’re scared it’ll rip.

“be—oh—careful,” you get out in between moans, louder than the first time and louder still than he thought you’d be. he likes it more than he should. you already came once, but he wants to see if he can get another out of you.

“shut up,” rafe groans, eyes fixated on your perky ass, the one he’s stared at in hundreds of short dresses and tiny skirts, bikinis that he shouldn’t let you wear and panties he gets an eyeful of when you’re asleep in his bed. “jus’ take it-”

you keep moaning against the couch, head shoved in to muffle what you can, but it’s when you look back at him, turning your head to watch rafe slam into you with wet, lustful eyes, tired from how hard he had just made you cum, that he really can’t take it, finishing hard and fast while you let out pretty mewls that are still ringing in his ear.

he pulls out, adjusting your bikini bottoms to cover you up, though there’s visible wetness staining them. your inner thighs are shiny where your juices glisten. rafe has to tear his eyes away, you keep your legs clamped shut.

“you okay?” he asks, trying to catch his breath. you don’t speak, just nod. “c’mon.” rafe offers you a hand, again, and you accept, following him outside and into the sun, even though you’re so tired you could fall asleep where you were.

“thanks.” you say, wiping your neck of the sweat that has collected there. he watches you do it. “sorry, i don’t have a tip or anything. how about some fruit instead? call it even?” “shut up, kid. m’not a hooker, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

“no, of course not,” you gasp, like you’d never suggest such a thing. “the correct term is escort, rafe. it’s all very american gigolo.”

“you watch too many movies.” but you still hear him laugh when the two of you step onto the deck.

“what’s so funny?” you hear top’s voice, freezing up. you catch rafe’s eye, before looking away

“nothin’, man-” rafe starts, but you start talking over him.

“just debatin’ how long it would take you idiots to get ready. got enough gel there, top?” rafe and kelce laugh while topper narrows his eyes at you.

your days are on the boat are always fun—the boys steer while you enjoy the breeze and the sun. you pass the fruit around and read your book—another romance beach read, of course. this one’s about two best friends falling in love. you can’t find the will to keep reading.

you tune in a conversation about a party tonight.

“are we going?” you ask, looking expectantly at the three boys in front of you.

“yeah. why wouldn’t we?” kelce says. you shift your gaze to rafe, who gestures to your thighs with his eyes. you clamp your legs shut, flushing.

“fun. what time?”

.☘︎ ݁˖

finding a little hard to walk straight after your little tryst on the boat, you switch your heeled sandals for a pair of sneakers for tonight. you smooth out your pretty blue dress in the back of top’s jeep. him and kelce are in the front, you and rafe in the back, pulling up to whichever family that was off-island’s mansion for the evening. the music was blaring, audible from even down the street, with two boys carring a keg into the house while top parked.

“are they celebrating something?” you question, staring at the crowds of people inside.

“yeah. the fact that it’s saturday night,” kelce answers, and you shove the back of his head from the backseat.

you hear rafe and top talking about something, though you can’t make it out. yesterday you thought, dreading when the boys swung by your house to get you, that it would be awkward to sit next to rafe and act like nothing had happened. surprisingly after the conversation this morning, you find that it’s not. he leaned over to open the door for you to get in, asked you how your class was, did the things he always did.

topper’s an idiot for boosting his wheels, and you’d told him as much when he showed you guys for the first time. getting down is a nightmare, even more in your sore state (which you are attributing to the pilates and not the boy sitting next to you right now).

you turn to look at rafe again but he’s not there, and instead you see him in your window, opening the door and offering you a hand to get down. rafe’s probably helped you down a dozen times. this feels different, you admit to yourself, holding onto his hand to get down and keenly aware of his other hand hovering around your waist.

inside, the party is in full swing, one corner by the windows with billows of smoke and a group of boys in another corner mixing drinks.

the four of you end up like always—divided into half on opposite ends of a painted pong table from someone’s old frat house. some girl top’s been talking to makes her way over, hanging off his arm before long. rafe watches you toss the white ball, your nose scrunching up in concentration. you cheer when it goes in, turning to hug kelce. you’ve only had two cups but you’re getting tipsy already, he can tell.

“top. top!” rafe shouts over the music, but he’s too busy talking to the girl to notice.

“man, he’s clearly busy,” kelce says with a laugh.

“i agree. looks like that one’s for you, rafe.” you look at him with a giddy smile, leaning forward on the table, palms pressed flat. he wishes you wouldn’t—he can see down the front of your dress from this angle. you cheer when rafe chugs the cup of cheap beer.

he should make the next one just to get back at you, but he doesn’t want you to get too drunk. instead he misses, the ball falling right into kelce’s hands.

if you were sober, you’d roll your eyes—you’d recognize that rafe missed on purpose. he’s better at this than all of you combined.

“give me five,” rafe says to top, casting one more glance back at you and kelce before walking towards a group of people on the couches and fishing something out of his pocket.

he’s gone, at most, ten minutes, and returns to find kelce missing. his place is taken by some brunette boy, who is currently trying to show you the best way to toss the ball. he’s standing awful close, a hand on your shoulder, his gaze on your exposed skin while you stare at the red cups.

“who the fuck is this?” rafe barks, though with the music blasting, only topper can hear him.

“i dunno, kelce ran off with that chick he’s been hooking up with-” the white ping pong ball lands in the red cup closest to rafe. he hopes he doesn’t look up to see something that’s gonna piss him off, but it’s dashed in seconds—you hugging the stranger in glee that you made another shot.

he swings around the table, shooting a glare at the boy while putting himself in between the two of you. he faces the boy first.

“get lost.” the boy tries to say something, but rafe interrupts before he can get a word out. “get. lost.” you watch him scramble away, rafe turning to face you.

“c’mon. we’re done with pong.”

“but i made the last one!”

“i said we’re done. y’lucky i don’t take your ass home.”

“we just got here. why would you take me home?” you question.

for all the big talk, all the jokes and banter and emotions you’re trying to bury, you still don’t understand the simple truth known to everyone that’s ever met you and rafe—he’s never going to be happy seeing you with any boy besides himself.

“what’s wrong?” you question softly, looking up at him with big, confused, drunk eyes, not snarky like he thought you might be.

“no. just.. stop talkin’ to strangers, s’all.”

“but he was nice!” you yell over the music, picking up another cup from the table and taking a sip. you hate beer, but they took top’s jeep and not rafe’s truck, so there’s no spiked seltzer here for you.

“no he wasn’t.” he takes the cup from your hand, pouring half the beer out into another cup before shoving it back in your hand.

“yeah he was! don’t you want that? the sooner i find a nice guy we can stop all of this, right?” you look at him earnestly, before chugging the rest of your beer.

“alright, you’re cut off.”

the rest of the night goes by the same as all the others—kelce and top into a competition to see who can get more drunk, you tipsy enough to talk loudly about anything that comes to mind and rafe scaring away any guy who stares at you for too long. you stare at rafe’s back when he goes to sell, watching a pretty girl touch his arm when he’s counting the cash she’s handed him.

you look away since you feel the beer coming back up, anger bubbling. you focus on topper, trying to follow along with his nonsensical conversation about his ex-girlfriend.

“don’t worry,” kelce says, and you turn your gaze on him, confused. “he didn’t even look at her.”

“what?” but his eyes aren’t on you, glancing behind you. you turn, though you shouldn’t, looking at rafe, two girls laughing at something while he opens the little white packet for them. glancing at kelce, and then at top, who is keeled over on the sofa, nursing a half-empty bottle of tequila just by himself, you walk over to where rafe is.

“wait, don’t-” kelce calls out after you, but you don’t listen.

“rafe, i think top’s ready to go. are you?” you interrupt his conversation with the two girls, and though you despise the fact that you’re doing this, you realize kelce was right. he wasn’t even looking at them. you gesture at your two other best friends on the couch, kelce trying to yank the bottle from top’s grip.

“yeah, kid. c’mon, this place is dead anyways.” you smile, though you shouldn’t let rafe see it. no, your smile is for the girls. you feel an unparalled joy when rafe swings his arm around you, guiding you back to the couch.

you shouldn’t look back, but you do. the girls look mad and you feel happy.

this is fucked—the very thought sobers you. you shouldn’t be happy that those girls think there’s something between you and rafe, but you are.

rafe manhandles topper into standing up, while kelce turns to talk to you. he’s drunk, and it comes out like a laugh. you smile, thinking he’s going to make some joke about top and tequila.

“you’re just as toxic as he is. hah. and i thought rafe was bad-”

“what?” you ask, but rafe cuts you off before you can figure out what kelce means.

“kelce, it’s your job to make sure he doesn’t puke in the back.”

“man, why am i always on top watch-”

in the car, you pick the music while rafe drives. you notice he keeps an eye out in the backseat, with top’s head half out the window and kelce texting on his phone.

“did you sell a lot?” you ask. you’ve never really mentioned it before, so rafe didn’t expect it tonight.

kelce’s words linger in your head. if you weren’t sober before he said that, you certainly are now.

“enough. why?”

“just wondering. i saw you before we left, that’s all.” you look at the road ahead, listening to the quiet tune of the bryson tiller song you’d put on.

“you saw me?”

“with the pretty girl throwing herself at you? hard not to see.” you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth—you sound bitter and angry, two things you truly are, but you don’t want rafe to know already.

“what, you jealous, kid?”

“why would i be jealous? you’re not my boyfriend.” it comes out louder than you expected, trying to talk over top and kelce’s voices in the backseat.

“no, m’not.”

you bite your cheek and stare out the window.

“not to interrupt, or anything, but i think top’s gonna puke-” you jolt when rafe slams on the brakes.

tannyhill is fifteen minutes from where the party was, but it takes fifty minutes to get back. rafe pulled over twice to let topper puke on the side of the road, so it’s three am before the four of you get back.

you want to go home—the alcohol in your system and unfinished conversation with rafe have left you feeling queasy too, but it’s three in the morning. top and kelce are too drunk to drive you, and you don’t want to ask rafe.

you decide that you don’t want to be alone with rafe either, changing into one of the shirts you’d brought from home and stupidly looking down realizing it’s one of rafe’s. did you own a single t-shirt that wasn’t from his closet? where had all of your clothes gone?

grumpy that you’re in his clothes, upset that he had pretty much admitted he wasn’t your boyfriend, and riddled with the assumption that he meant he would never be your boyfriend, you collect a pillow and one of the blankets from his bed, walking out the door when you hear rafe’s voice saying your name.

“where the hell are you goin’?” facing him, you stare at your feet.

“the couch.”

“when have you ever slept on the couch here?”

“i’m starting something new.”

“get in bed before i drag you there.” you groan, thumping both feet on the ground before stalking into the room. rafe exhales loudly, loud enough that you hear it, before muttering something under his breath and following you inside, closing the door.

you sit on the bed, but before you can think about what you’ve done, you bunch up a pillow in your hand.

“you-” you throw the pillow at rafe, which misses him completely. “suck!” the second thuds against his chest, before falling on the ground. you huff from your position on the bed.

rafe picks up both pillows, dropping them on the bed.

“what the hell was that?”

“this whole thing was a mistake.”

“it’s been two days.”

“well i’m an emotional fuck!”

“yeah, i can tell.” you pick up the pillow again, whacking rafe’s side with it.

“ugh! you can’t just-” your hands falter, dropping next to you while you look up at rafe through wet eyes. “-just say that us sleeping together is a good idea because you don’t want me with any other guys. what the fuck am i supposed to do with that?”

“i don’t know! you’re the fuckin’ clueless one. what’d you think that means?”

“stop! just tell me! stop making me think, i’m so drunk and everything is mental gymastics with you-”

“well stop throwin’ my own pillows at me!”

“you suck, rafe. all of this and you can’t just tell me whether you like me or not?”

in hindsight, you don’t know where the question came from. maybe a small part of you that wasn’t willfully ignorant suspected a long time ago that the way rafe acts towards you is more than just overprotective friendship. you had buried the thought the second it emerged—rafe cameron doesn’t have girlfriends, doesn’t do relationships. the rafe that’s been your best friend was your best friend for that very reason, because you weren’t in love with him.

or at least you thought you weren’t in love with him. and at least, he thought you weren’t in love with him.

the truth, you’re beginning to realize, watching rafe grab the pillow you’re about to hit him with out of your hands and set it down, is that rafe only acts the way he does with you, and no one else. the drinks you like in the back of his car, his shirts in your closet, the bed you share and all the time you two spend alone. you thought it was a great friendship, and maybe it was. but all along there’s been something bubbling underneath the surface, the feeling in the pit of your stomach when he started talking to that girl, how angry you get when you see him with any girl that’s not you.

you thought rafe’s a dick for giving you such a hard time about any boy you try to talk to. he is a dick, but you’re the bitch that can’t stand seeing him with another girl.

and as the thoughts rush through your head, rafe looks at you in his bed, in his shirt, and realizes the answer to your question is that there’s no one in the world he likes more than you.

“you should have told me ‘bout the emotional fuck part.”

“you should have just confessed.”

“nah, not really my thing.” he sits down on the bed next to you, and you stare up at blue eyes that are looking at you, a smile on his lips. “this whole thing was a bad idea.”

“it’s been two days,” you mock.

“yeah, well, we tried it.”

“do you regret it?” you hold your breath for the moment of truth.

“c’mon kid. yeah, i do. ‘cause i’m not letting you out of my sight after this. you’re dating me or no one at all.”

“so if we break up-”

“straight to the convent for you. don’t worry, i’ll send you a care package. strawberry seltzer and those porno books-”

“shut up.”

“you shut up. and get the fuck into bed. it’s late.”

“you don’t want one last emotional fuck? on your last day as a single man?” you tease, crawling under the sheets. “learn how to read a clock. it’s past midnight.”

“oh. whatever, you know what i mean.”

“i guess i can be convinced-” he leans in for a kiss, and you hold your breath waiting for it, when there’s a sharp knock on the door.

“guys. sorry to interrupt whatever the hell this is, but i think top needs to get his stomach pumped.”

#😭here it is #i am so nervous about this if you think it’s ass . i apologize in advance #kook trio reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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bimbosandbubbles · 3 months

Text

All Consuming

Starring Yandere Siren Gojo and Geto

Synopsis- Two months ago you became a sole survivor to a supposed animal attack on a lake trip and because of that you’ve become alienated from everyone else in your much too rural community. However,you’re finally not so alone when two mysterious men are way too interested in you…But something’s a little off about them..

Fic for my Summertime Slashers event!

Warnings-mates,Geto and Gojo kinda have a feeding kink in this(they like seeing you eat bcs they only eat human flesh and obviously you don’t 😭), stalking,cum marking(you’ll find out), voyeurism,mirror kink,mutual masturbation,biting,oviposition,icky flirting(they’re very confused on the fact that humans don’t just mate like sirens do), dubcon,borderline noncon,multiple sex scenes,leg worshipping?,manipulation(you’re very vulnerable in this and they take advantage of that),abuse of super natural power(not clearly stated but implied),panty sniffing,lots of breeding kink,and ofc and always CHUBBY READER!

An explanation on sirens and how I tweaked them from traditional folklore! Just so you can have more understanding on why things happen in this fic! So Sirens typically are beings that lure men in with their beautiful voice and then capture them with their magical touch! This is kinda like that but not really! Geto and Gojo are male sirens so they usually target the opposite sex! Their siren voice isn’t necessarily singing it’s just something they can activate in this fic! Also they can go on and off land if they’re well fed! In this fic I imply heavily that sirens take mates like many other sea life!

WC-6.9K/6,925

"Can you give a description of him?"

"Them." Is all you can answer. Seething hot acid pulls at the back of your throat,begging to come out on the steel table. Your quaking hands grip the very edge of the table for some kind of support—a sense of grounding in this situation.

"Right,them. My apologies. The descriptions though,(Reader)?" You gulp,"Well one was taller than the other had these piercing blue eyes,almost like light itself. The other had these soulless black ones...emotionless and empty kinda."

In front of you there's this quiet man presumingly sketching away the description. "Anything else?" You bite your lip and glance down at your scarred fingers but you quickly look away because the memory of just why those injuries remain are there is much too fresh. "I don't know...everything was a blur. I can't remember a thing other than seeing them..."You swallow a thick wad of spit before you utter another word,"tear into my friends."

The officer in front of you stares into your glassy eyes that you bet are red and bulging to the point it looks like you've been choked instead of crying. He sighs,"Look,(Reader) you seem to be a nice enough girl but these details are just not enough to drive this case. This is the third time we've invited you down to the station and you've said nothing to make us believe two men did this to your friends."

"Please! I saw them! I really,really did! I swear! I wouldn't lie about seeing those—those monsters!" The officer sighs and ounces the bridge of his nose,"Let's be real,when the attacked happened you were intoxicated,right? You were out having fun with your girlfriends and probably doing other substances. Or maybe the shock of seeing your friends mauled by an animal got to you. Whatever the case may be I know it's not two human men who ate your friends in front of you."

You clench your fists in pure disgust at the audacity this person has in front of you. He's not the one who had to see it,he's not the one who had to watch your friends cry and beg for help and couldn't do anything about it, and he's certainly not the one who had to live through their constant cries of pain. You finally raise your voice an octave,"I know what I saw and I won't suffer through some accusations pushed onto me because this story isn't believable enough for you!"

The officer doesn't take lightly to your shouting and doesn't remain so calm with his doubt. "I'm tired of listening to your bullshit anyways! There is no man eating monster with glowing blue eyes! And there definitely isn't another soulless black eyed creep!" He takes a deep breath and stands from the metal chair. You sit there in silence fighting back tears and you have no clue why the liquid is fleeing your eye ducts.

It's probably anger or sadness,or both whatever the reason might be you curl up into yourself and sob in front of the two cops. "(Reader), I apologize...but I can't take this case serious. I know you're hurting,losing your friends in an animal caused massacre but you're wasting resources and precious time for cases that actually need to be solved. So just go home and get some therapy,yeah?"

Through teary eyes you gaze at the officer in his harsh eyes and you're left wondering why does no one believe you? It's been two months since the attack and you're doing all the right things;therapy,self groups,going back to normal life,yet you're treated like some crazy person. You've never been the type to lie. Never been the type to abuse someone's trust,so why?

Why are you so unbelievable? Are your tears not mournful enough? Is your slowly deteriorating appearance not evidence enough? Is the scars on your body just too artificial looking for people not to believe the truth?

With your head hung low you whisper,"Sorry officer,I'll go home."

▂▂▂▂

"Oh my god is that her?" The whisper flows through the dining hall. Another answers,"I think she's totally crazy." Then another,"Oh be nice,her friends got mauled by some kind of wolf in front of her." "I heard it was a bear actually."

You chew on your mediocre sandwich trying to ignore the constant voices mumbling about you. It's the first week you've been back at uni since the attack and it's not going so well for you. People only pity you or look down at you for not just dying with your friends. Some people think that you're even responsible for their deaths. But it won't be much longer until you're free of the university gossip due to the fact that summer break is nearly two weeks away. And even with that time frame people are already leaving the dorms entirely.

And what makes it so unfortunate is that no one's in your corner anymore. Your parents have turned their backs on you because it's like a sin to have a child struggling with their mental health in this godforsaken small town. And your friends well...gone because of that very event. And you can't even dream about making any new ones because now you're looked at like some disease instead of a victim of a horrifying crime.

But it's okay,that's what you tell yourself. And that's the mantra that keeps flowing through your brain as you take bite after bite into your too cold food. You people watch from the wooden eating area—turning green with envy as you glance from after people enjoying each other's company.

That was once you, eating and laughing among your beloved closest companions. You don't wish to be bitter for others happiness but it's hard not to when you're actively being shunned by your whole town basically.

You glance down at your depressing looking tray of food and decide it doesn't even look edible to you anymore. You debate whether or not you should throw it away or just eat it. Simply because you haven't been eating much since the incident. You nimble on your lip and decide you shouldn't force yourself to eat food you don't even like.

You arise from your seat and wish you didn't because now all eyes are on you as if they weren't before. You sigh and walk all the way to trash trying to power through all the chatter and seething stares. They all look at you like some parasite slowly infecting them with your presence alone.

Sure,you've been stared at before being that you're a bigger girl in a hick town but this is something different. Something crueler...and more hurtful. It's so hurtful that you're just probably going to skip all your lectures and run away into the comfort of your home.

However your mind sets that aside once you see two strangers sitting at your once empty table. Your brows raises as you walk confusedly back to the table to retrieve your book bag.

Once you come closer you're shocked to be met with eyes black as the night...eyes that are so eerily familiar. "Oh I'm sorry we didn't know anyone was sitting here!" His voice is calm and gentle,gentle to the point that you'd melt into the his arms right now because the longing for comfort roughly tugs at you. Pathetic,anyone would agree to that,however you're just so entirely vulnerable for any type of interaction and touch at the moment. Then you take a look at his face and you're shocked to see how handsome he is.

His long raven locks go past his broad shoulders that is covered with a loose breathable crew neck. Not only are his eyes pretty in color but the shape as well;his kind monolids gazing at you right now practically has you flustered. "It's alright..I was leaving anyhow." You mumble with a nervous smile.

"Nooo! Stay! This table has so much room!" A chipper,more energetic voice adds in. Your attention is turned to the voice and this time you're even more shocked at how good looking this man is too. He has snow white hair that frames his pretty face along with eyes so blue they're almost hypnotizing. But again something in your belly finds those eyes too familiar almost like you've met the men before.

"Oh no you wouldn't wanna sit with me...people will start talking about you too." The black haired man smiles,"Let them talk," he extends his long arm on the back of the seat next to Gojo,"sit." Gojo moves from that seat to make sure you're the one in the middle of the two men. You shyly nod,"Thank you."

You sit down and feel a sudden presence of something....something intense between the three of you despite just making their acquaintance. "My name is Suguru Geto,"he points to the other man beside you,"This is Satoru Gojo." He smiles and waves,"What's your name cutie?" The white haired man peers at you as he awaits the answer to his question. "(Reader Full Name),nice to meet you guys."

The both say it's nice to meet you also and you guys chatter about each others day,major etc. "Have you eaten yet?" Suguru asks. "Umm kinda,the food I got wasn't very good so I just threw it away." Gojo say,"Oh no,eat with us! Me and Guru always eat good food so you'll like it for sure."

"No no it's okay! I wouldn't wanna have you guys pay for anything from the food bar." You used the word pay because all the good food you have to pay for instead of meal swipes. And because you're suddenly shunned from this town you're naturally unable to keep a job anymore,therefore making you broker than a joke. "I'll pay." Gojo says.

"It's o—" Gojo interrupts,his big hand managing to fully wrap around your plump upper arm,"I'll pay." He affirms. You just nod silently and watch as he walks up to the food bar to buy the items. Geto looks at you and smile,"So what's a pretty girl like you sitting all by herself for?"

You look down and feel your tummy doing backflips for two reasons;the compliment and the question. You're nervous to explain just why you're being ignored and you're nervous you'll mess up the chance of making new friends. However,you go for being honest and not lying,just to see if they'll actually be someone you'll want to have as companions.

"Well two months ago an incident happened at the lake with my friends. They were attacked by two monsters and I was the only one to make it out alive. But the weird thing is...I wasn't attacked at all...they just ignored me and only went for my friends. But after they were done they looked at me in this way—this way that was so,"you pause,trying to find your bearings,"haunting. Not like they wanted to eat me but something else entirely..." Your rub your pudgy fingers as you explain and Geto does something surprising.

He grips your hands to stop the constant movement. His smooth fingers rub soothing circles on your now healed skin. And it feels so good to be touched with affection, so good that you almost forgot to finish your story. "I went to the police as soon as it happened and I was told it was probably an animal attack but I know what I saw...I know wholeheartedly. And that's why I was sitting alone,everyone thinks I'm some crazy person making stuff up." Your bottom lip begins to tremble as you feel tears begin to pool in your eyes.

"And you probably think I'm crazy now too..." Your voice breaks and your brain is working overtime. How humiliating that you're breaking down to a total stranger in public too! God,why are you so pathetic? So vulnerable to the point you easily melt into the arms of an unknown person. Has your sense of self truly scrambled that far away from you?

Geto extends his arm to wrap around your supple body,he's warm and smells like ocean breeze mixed with sandalwood. "I don't, I believe you." It's a whisper yet the impact is like a loud shout. "You do?" He gets closer,his soft pink lips muttering so close to the shell of your ear,"I do." You shiver involuntarily,your body unable to contain the way his coo affected you physically.

"Thank you." It's a mumble but still Geto acknowledges it with a soft squeeze on your body.

"I brought the food!" A happy voice interjects. Gojo sets down loads of plates of delectable looking food. And suddenly your tummy rumbles just looking at the many options of food.

Gojo hears it,"You hungry now?" You nod shyly and can't help but look down at the very good options. After weeks of eating too cold food and mess hall trash seeing the hot bar meals would make anyone hungry. White hair bobs as the tall man takes his seat next to you.

"Go on,eat." He smiles a toothy grin. His hand extends to your lips with a forkful of pasta that smells so good you literally inhale it. You instinctively open your mouth only to quickly close it. Because oh my God were you about to let this stranger feed you? Has hardly any human interaction made you so compliant?

Gojo pouts,"What's wrong?" You quickly try to reassure him,"It's nothing...but I can feed myself,y'know.." You almost forgot Geto is still holding you,the only cause for remembering is strictly based on the firm squeeze he gives your upper body. "Eat." He asks,more like demands.

Despite how demanding he sounded it was still gentle? Almost like a calming song in an odd way. You open your mouth and Gojo happily stuffs the fork in your mouth. You chew and melt into the flavors of the yummy dish but you can't fully enough it because the men you're sitting next to are quietly observing you.

Another bite is feed to you and another,then another until the pasta is all gone. Every single time you took a bite Geto and Gojo all watched in admiration. Geto,who still has you in a half embrace would caress the supple skin of your bare arms that are free from sleeves in your cotton cami. The texture of the pads of his fingers would rub you as you ate.

And Gojo would clean up your chubby face if he missed your mouth just a little bit. He'd use his thumb to wipe away the evidence of the mess with his oddly sharp and long tongue. His other hand also stayed close and near to the pudge that hangs low on your abdomen,practically cupping the fat that adorns the area.

And all while eating you didn't realize how intimate this interaction really is. Two men watching you as your spoon fed by one and both touching you so...personally;this is not a normal interaction between strangers. You know that,yet it feels too good to tell them to stop. You haven't been touched with affection in so long so why fight it when two handsome men are practically draped all over you?

"Would you like some dessert?" Geto asks. Gojo chimes in,"You should absolutely have some dessert. I got these cute cakes for you to try." You look down in embarrassment,"I don't know if I should...I just ate the pasta." Gojo quirks his brow up in confusion,"So? You can't have dessert too?"

You smile,"I guess I can." Gojo grins brightly,"Atta girl,open wide." Already with spoon in hand and a sweet treat in it, he moves it to your mouth. Of course you accept and chew happily on the sweet treat until a thought interrupts this indulgent interaction. Why haven't they eaten? You've been here,being fed and talked to by these for at least an hour or more,but they haven't eaten? Why come to the lunch hall then?

You quickly swallow the treat,"Aren't you guys hungry?" Geto answers,"Oh me and Gojo were earlier but watching you eat has satisfied our appetite." His response is followed with an enthusiastic nod by his blue eyed friend,"Mhm! You eat so cute it's hard not to get full."

You make a face full of doubt,"Umm,I dunno if you guys are trying to be overly nice to me but I don't believe that for one second." You push away Geto's hold on you and Gojo's slight grip on you to scoot away from the pair. Suddenly,you've fully realized that this whole thing is really weird even though you truly are enjoying the attention from the very good looking men.

But that enjoyment isn't enough to just ignore how fast and dangerous this all could possibly be. You don't know how you just dazed off and forgotten all about that. You stand up and urgently say,"Look,you guys have been really nice to me and I totally appreciate it but this is just all really weird for me so I'm just gonna—"

Geto stands up with such a quickness it's almost supernatural,"Shhh...you don't mean that sweet girl. Just come and sit with me and Saturo,yeah? We'll make all that confusion will go away,okay?" His words are so sweet,so soft and gentle;inviting to the point you almost relax back to the seat but you don't.

"No—can't. This is so personal and you guys don't even know me...plus everyone can see you behaving this way with me." You go to grab your bag but Gojo stops your exit this time. "C'mon cutie,it's okay. It's just me and Sugu,we wouldn't wanna do anything to hurt our lil pretty new friend. If it's the people watching...we can take you up to our dorm and continue this there."

Geto adds,"That's a good idea, all these people shouldn't be watching you anyways." You look at them in confusion and seriously debate if going back to their dorm is actually a good idea at all. "Don't treat your new friends like this;we're not gonna hurt you." Friends? Are they really calling themselves friends?

You bite your lip and glare down at your beat up sneakers,"I don't know.." Gojo pulls you close to him by gripping your soft hand,"It's okay,cutie. It's just me and Geto,we won't do anything."

You bite your lip,stumped with providing them with an answer,it's useless though because an arm links with yours and already starts ushering you along to exit the mess hall. "W-Wait!" You try to pull yourself away from the limb but it's like forged iron. Geto utters,"It's okay. Just come with us. It's just us."

You were panicked,worried,anxious to the point of feeling like throwing up. The feeling washes away as Geto soothes you with his words;odd considering the fact that he's not explicitly saying anything too calming. He's just talking,yet his syllables feel like warm chamomile tea that just eases your mind and heart.

It feels magical...too artificial of a feeling it's almost like being on a high. The feeling only increases when Gojo joins his friend in talking to you;literally and metaphorically syncing with him as he also links his arm with yours.

The longer they talk the more woozy you begin to feel. Your walls of distrust and logic melt away like rapid candle wax,so much so that you begin teeter into their touch.

Your mind is confused and vulnerable to the point you don't realize you're in front of their dorm room until Gojo pulls you into the room. They both free you of their hold and suddenly you feel more conscious.

"Why'd you take me here? I didn't even get a say.." Geto rubs the apparent flesh on the back of your arms,"It's alright...you'll enjoy being with us." Your brows scrunch and you want to spew something aggressive but his touch and his voice are just too...distracting.

"G-Geto.." you whimper. You don't know why you say his name,it's just the only thing your mouth will allow you to say. "Yes, tell me what do you want?" You snuggle closer into his touch,breathless and confused,"I don't know..." Gojo then walks closer to you,taking up the front portion of your body. His hands cling to your wide waist;digits dig into the dough like flesh.

"Would you like for us to give you an option?" The long haired man whispers in your ear,his lips practically pecking the shell of the cartilage. You're weak and feel all too needy. Needy for what is the real question though.

"Please,yes.." you lowly whimper. With that the two men place you onto a soft bouncy mattress,leaving you without the their touch for a few minutes but that doesn't last for long. Gojo already has his hands on your tummy,practically massaging the flesh with his hands. He leans forwards and starts suckling on the skin of your nape.

He starts thumbing the beginning of your loose fitting shorts,"I think these should come off." You gulp and grip onto him,"I-I haven't shaved just so you know." Gojo starts pulling down the waistband to the point he could see your bellybutton,"I didn't ask if you shaved,I said these should come off." You gasp as you feel a new pair of hands on your thighs—pulling down the bottom half of the outfit.

Geto looks up at you from the position of him being on his knees;slotted perfectly in between your big thighs. "I agree with Saturo,everything should just come off you." Gojo starts pulling off the hem of your panties and once they're low enough Geto grabs the material and carefully slides them off your legs. He does something unusual,by bringing the damp material to his face and taking a deep inhale. He groans into the panties,eyes closed in bliss and a deep harbored groan flees his lips.

Gojo looks down in jealousy and whines for his other half to hand him the undies. You watch as Geto begrudgingly passes him the undergarment. Gojo brings them to his face and his bright blues eyes almost glow with light as he huffs in the smell of your pussy. "Mate smells so good. Fuck..." You brows furrow in confusion,what did he mean by mate? It's such a primitive and almost animal like to refer to you as that. You don't have much time to think of it though as demand takes all your attention.

"Spread,so we can see that pretty pussy..." The ravenette orders you. You're about to do it but insecurity nags at you,the condition of your unshaven and wild looking pussy drains away at your confidence. What's the point of spreading anyway? The fat of your lips and hair will block the view of anything worth looking at.

"Spread." Gojo repeats. You shake your head no;embarrassment and now common sense are starting to grow back into your brain. Both of the men huff,annoyed with the fact they can't just view the pussy they can smell from miles away,even in water.

For two months since they last fed,they've been so stuck on finding this woman with an unearth like aroma. The being smelt of brown sugar and sweet honey. They've been so determined to find the owner of the scent they've enrolled in this stupid college and kept tabs on you for so long.

Now they have you,almost bare,snagged in their hypnotic touch,yet you won't even let them see what rightfully belongs to them? No. That just won't do.

"Gojo,bring the mirror over here." Immediately the man sitting next to you stands up and retrieves a long floor length mirror to right in front of the bed. You observe yourself in the mirror,tired eyes that look bothered, your flustered face and your slightly messy hair,all the way to your bare lower body.

Why bring the mirror though? Your question is answered when Geto suddenly arises from the floor,taking the space the former was sitting on the bed. His strong hand grips the fatty flesh of your thigh,placing it on his lap. Gojo,now sitting on the opposite side does the same action. You fluster,"What're you doing?" Gojo hums with a happy expression,"Spreading."

They both extend your legs further til your pussy is completely exposed to them in the view of the mirror. "Perfect." Geto says lowly into the cusp of your neck and shoulder. "So pretty,I just wanna lick it." You tensed at the admiration for such a private area,a private area that four pair of eyes are constantly eyeing hungrily.

"So many things we could make you do..." The white haired man suggests. "Mhm,but right now I wanna see her play with it." Geto answers. "P-Play with it?" You try to close your legs back but their grips are too strong on your legs. You couldn't do that—not in front of them. It's embarrassing;being open and exposing yourself raw like that.

Gojo whines,"You're so mean. Trying to close what's rightfully ours. Just play with it...you wanna make yourself feel good,right?" His words and his touch feel like the law,like you have to obey. He didn't say anything overly convincing,yet your body can't help but comply.

Your pudgy digits reach down in between the plump lips—traveling way down to the pulsing hole. The fingers circle the entrance,barely touching the wet flesh. You huff at the light touch,already feeling needy. "It's alright,you can put one in." Geto urges.

You gaze into the mirror,observing the sight of your finger so easily sliding into the welcoming hole. A gasp flees your lips as the appendage starts moving in and out of you. "There you go...keep going."

You obey,moving the lone finger faster and harder than the first few movements. "Fuckkkk,that looks so good. Mate looks so good playing with her pussy." Gojo howls out. Playing with your pussy is not the only view you're able to see in mirror. Gojo and Geto's are in the displaying glass as well;their hard cocks out in the open as they go up and down at the same pace as you.

You bite your lip,immensely turned on by the view of the two men bringing themselves sweet undeniable pleasure. Their hands wander up and down your legs,holding tight the excess flesh you have on the limbs. Geto groans,"Your legs are so pretty,just like the rest of you. So plump and soft. Perfect for giving you so many pups." You moan at his words,adding another digit for the adding bliss.

Blue eyes close in joy,"Oh? You like that? Wanna get pregnant with me and Sugu's babies? Wanna be full of pups?" His hips stutter up into his o shaped hand,"F-Fuck,say yes! Tell us how badly you want that." A whine falls from your babbling mouth,"Want! Need it so bad." Geto groans as he reaches over you to bite into the soft skin of your neck;sinking his teeth in so deep you can feel the light liquid of blood dribble down. Your back arches at the strange sensation that hurts,yet feels oddly so good.

Gojo also goes for a bite,lower though,he finds the spot of your plump shoulder to be perfect. "Mm,you're gonna take it so well when me and Gojo fuck you." The ravenette mumbles into your flesh. His hand travels down to the pouch of your fat that rest slightly above your uterus,he gives it a harsh grasp;fingers digging into the moldable skin. "Perfect,so perfect for giving babies."

Your digits curl into the wet cavern and your body almost folds itself just trying to reach that special spot that resides so deeply in you. You whimper in frustration,your average sized fingers not being just enough to reach that oh so very special spot.

Gojo laughs,"Can't reach? It's okay cutie,me and Sugu will be touching you there all the damn time. Just continue making yourself feel good,yeah? Want you to cum all over your little fingers so I can lick it off." With that bit of encouragement,you thrust deeper;curling the digits so far they're like hooks going into your sloppy cunt.

"Mmmm,look at your cute face. Making such adorable faces in the mirror for us.." Geto hums in your neck,lapping up with rouge from his bite with his slender tongue. Gojo grips your chubby face in his palm,"Right,look at those pudgy cheeks,just wanna bite em." He releases his hold and goes for a gentle nibble on the fat,almost suckling on it like a baby.

With a loud moan,your hand darts out to get a hold on Geto's hair;an action he revels in,loving the harsh pull on the silky strands. "Feels so good." You stammer. "Yeah? That feels good?" Geto purrs. You nod furiously,too caught up in your own pleasure to chatter anymore.

Geto and Gojo experience the same feeling—their eyes are shut in pure anticipation,their pretty swollen tips throbbing to let out the milky substance. You moan louder at the reflection in the mirror;the glass showing you the two men who are so close to falling off the brink of pleasure. The men who just look so desperate to spill all over your spread form.

Faster,harder,deeper is all the thought your mind allows you to even think. Your fingers are working overtime,trying to get over that brink of sweet ecstasy. With one hard thrust,your essence splays all over the mirror,distorting the clear reflection of the glass.

Geto cums soon after,then Gojo. As they do,they make it obvious the cum is all over your body. It mostly splatters on your thighs and your tummy.

You breathe heavily and look at them in astonishment,"Oh my God..."

You couldn't believe it,couldn't believe cumming in front of people you just met,couldn't believe letting them cum all over you,couldn't believe hearing them call you mate and say things like mate—isn't that really weird? You sit up away from the duo and look at them suspiciously. And again you feel more conscious without their touch on you. More like you can clearly think and think logically.

"Why'd you wanna do this with me?" It's accusing,the question,it practically spews suspicion if it wasn't obvious enough. Geto reaches to touch your thigh,but you move away. "Don't touch me. I dunno what's going on with you two...but it's weird."

Gojo chuckles,"Aww,cutie are you feeling nervous? It's okay—" You cut him off with a desperate shout,"Answer my question! Please! Why?"

They look at each other for a few long seconds,thinking about what to say. You know they’re probably thinking about some elaborate lie that won’t even begin to fool you. How could you be so stupid? So easily wooed to do something so very intimate with these strangers? God,could you be anymore stupid?

They don’t give you any answers—no,the much bigger men tackle you onto the bed. Their hands grab all and any appendage that could fight back.

There it is again…that strange drossy feeling. It returns with a revenge time,it no longer feels like a light enjoyable feeling. Now it’s overtaking all your senses,stealing away your conscious mind.

“Sleep. You want to sleep. Sleep. You want to sleep.” Both of the voices chant to you,repeating the phrase over and over again. No! You don’t want to sleep,yet the more the repeat,the more they tell you what you want,the more your eyes begin to sag and you no longer see anything more.

Black.

▂▂▂▂▂

“No,Su’ you’re not covering her enough!” The annoyed voice of blue eyed man shouts. Geto huffs,”That’s all we have left in us. We could rub it in to scent her further. Calm down.”

Lips pout out in a childlike manner,”I’m just sayin so we can be careful. So many will probably want out mate,she’s so perfect for pups after all.” A chuckle follows,”You’re so possessive sometimes. No one will want her since we’ve marked her.”

“Oh,I’m possessive? You’re the one who said we should eat everyone just because that little guy friend of her touched her while making an escape. I—“Gojo points to his chest proudly,”just wanted to eat two or three but you got all murdery after he touched her.”

Geto rolls his black irises so far they disappear into the white of his socket,”Whatever. You would’ve ate them all anyways because you’re so damn jealous of others having her attention.” Gojo gasps,offending greatly,”Am not! I don’t get jealous like you!”

Geto laughs amused,knowing exactly how his life long friend works,”Alright,you win.” The white haired man hums triumphantly. Physically saying,”I know that’s right!”

“But are you sure we shouldn’t cum a little more on her?” Gojo cranes his head to look next to him,”No,we have to save some when we cum in her so we fertilize the eggs.” He nods,accepting the answer.

▂▂▂▂▂

When you wake up you’re greeted with the sight of loitering heads hanging above you.

You attempt to yelp only to have a hand roughly clap against your mouth. “Shhh,the yell will only echo in the cave.” A high voice says. Cave? Last time you checked you weren’t in a cave;the last location being a college dorm rooms.

The now known voice of Gojo exclaims,”I’m so happy you’re up though! Me and Geto were getting worried that we’d have to give you pups while you were asleep. Which is no fun cause we can’t hear your pretty little moans like that.” You cringe at his explanation—the thought of being used unconsciously giving you the creeps.

You get more creeped out though,the view of your surroundings not seeming so promising. There’s visible peeled human flesh in the cave,scattered around the stone. And the smell of old iron and rotten flesh takes over your nostrils. Oh God…you fingerfucked yourself in front of a bunch of monsters. And they probably want to eat you next too,just like your friends! Once they’re tired of you, you’re definitely on the menu.

Tears start streaming down your chubby face and your body begins to shake. “Just eat me already! Please don’t play with me and just eat me!” Your pathetic cries are met with laughter. This pauses your sobbing because why are they laughing at you?

“Oh my God! You’re so cute! Eat you? Noo!” Gojo folds over clutching his bare abdomen. Geto joins the laughter,”You’re so silly,we don’t want to eat you! You’re our mate! Imagine that,Gojo? Eating all our future pups like that!” Mate? Pups? These words sound familiar,like the ones they were saying the last time…intimacy happened.

Now that you look them in their true form you see why they chose the verbiage. They have scales matching their hair colors coating all four of their limbs,paired with gills on the neck’s and sides. As they laugh they also show their three rows of flesh piercing teeth. They were definitely some kind of animal like creature. But what?

“So you’re not gonna eat me?” You ask tentatively. Geto nods,”No,we want to make you our mate. That’s why we went through all that trouble of getting you.” Gojo urges in agreement,”Mhm! We just wanna fill you with pups and live with ya forever. And actually,”he lowers his hand down to his bare crotch gripping his already hard cock,”We’ve been meaning to do it soon as we brought you here. But you’re such a sleepyhead we had to wait til you woke up.”

You watch as he gives it a good stroke,looking you up and down as does so. And that’s when you realize you’re completely bare too;with some white milky substance coating your whole body. Another voice joins in,”Mhm,we’ve been dying to get inside you. And I don’t intend on waiting any longer.”

“W-Wait!” You try to protest but it’s no avail,Gojo is already on top of your naked body. Grips and gropes are felt all over from the monster,your chest,your plentiful body,your wide supple hips that sting as his hold won’t get any looser. He licks and bites every fiber in skin in front of him,everything being marked by his rough movements.

Geto comes in front of your laying position,stroking up and down as he watches his companion go feral with his urges. “Warm her up,Satoru. Make her feel good first.” He doesn’t respond verbally,his actions speaking loud enough for him;his mouth moves to suckle on the hard bud on top your breast aching for some type of stimulation.

You moan at the sensation only to be silenced by a passionate kiss from the long haired man. His tongue intertwines with yours creating a languid dance with the pink muscles. Gojo pops off your breast,sounding breathless and needy.

“I don’t wanna wait no more..Wanna be inside.” He whines,already lining up his cock with your soaked entrance. Geto sighs,”Maybe I should fuck her first…I’m more patient.” It’s a loud protest,”NO! Me! Please I want to first.”

You interrupt,swollen mouth readily to spew exactly what you want at this moment,”Just do it. Fuck me.” You don’t know what came over you to say that. Maybe it was their hypnotizing touch? They’re intimidatingly now known power over you? Or perhaps after months of being so harshly ignored you just needed this. Needed to be molded and groomed just to be something again…Whatever it is leads to the man on top of you finally giving into his desires.

With a shaky groan he impales you with his cock. He doesn’t halt nor wait for you to adjust—his urges of breeding being too strong. As he bucks into you he reshapes your legs to his satisfaction,bending them all the way against the fat of your stomach;indulging in the way the soft flesh jiggles with each rough piston of his hips.

“Good! Feel so good!” He howls into the echoing cave. “Look at you,taking it like such a good mate.” Geto purrs,rubbing his now scale textured palm on your soft face. “You see all the faces she makes when you’re fucking her,Saturo?”

“Y-Yeah! So cute!” He thrusts harder into your welcoming cunt,contorting himself to almost nuzzle your face every time he goes in and out of you. You whine and grip onto him,feeling an orgasm coming soon. You face twists into one of awaiting pleasure;the orgasm just teetering away from you.

“She’s about to cum! Go faster!” Geto encourages. Gojo,obliges,each of his harsh thrust definitely leaving bruising marks on the back of thighs and asscheeks.

Every movement is like a symphony—coordinating your final path to pleasure. The instruments? The clapping noises of Gojo prodding your hole roughly and passionately. The applause? The sweet noises you’d let fly past your tongue. And finally with one last shove into you,the orchestrater of your orgasm allowed you to sing his high praises.

You see white,yet Gojo doesn’t stop his hips—No he goes faster until he oozes into you hot white sticky semen. He stiffens for a second then reels back into the cavern,to the point his tip kisses your cervix. He stays in you until an odd sensation travels through your walls.

Orbs or something resembling a sphere fight against the strict wall of your womb. It starts with one,then the second,the the third,and the fourth is when you start to feel the invasion of whatever is being deposited in you.

“W-What’s going on?” Geto leans down and kisses your plump cheek,”Gojo’s giving you his pups. Don’t worry it’ll only hurt when they try to get into your womb,but you’re such a good mate you’ll take all of them.”

“A-All of them?” The reparation doesn’t help with understanding the idea. “All of them! And then you’re gonna take Sugu’s too! Isn’t that great?” Gojo joyfully informs you.

Your brain and body hurts so you simply just nod,pretending like you know what they mean. You’re tired. So tired that you lean into Geto’s gentle cupping of your face,closing your eyes;letting the two beings do whatever they want at this point.

Allowing yourself to be totally and wholly consumed by them.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED 🫶🏽🫶🏽 tysm for reading

1K notes · View notes

pathologicalreid · 3 months

Note

Hii I am making a Spencer Reid x citizen! F reader. They have been dating for a really long time but for a while reader has been dealing with a stalker, suddenly the stalker becomes much more violent and maybe even kidnaps her if we want to get real cray cray. Just lots of protective reid and angst to comfort!!

don't lose your head | S.R.

a stalker uses your work as a tudor history professor to follow your every move, so you go to the only place you can think of for help - the BAU

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: professor!reader, fiance!spencer, erotomaniac stalker, lots of tudor history facts, kidnapping, decapitation, happy ending, s11 (post-maeve), guns, death, spencer feels a lot of guilt, unhelpful police, exhaustion, nausea, dry heaving word count: 3.71k a/n: yall if i wanted to make this into a series would you read it 😭 i had so much fun writing this!!! and yes the title is a reference to six! thank you sooo much for requesting!!

you

You told Spencer after the fourth note. While the first two had been near your office door – harmless enough to have been brushed off as a student prank, the third note had been left on your desk. When someone had gotten into your locked office to leave you an intense love letter, you knew you were out of your depth.

After years of hearing stories about the BAU needing to battle the chain of command, you thought the best thing to do was to first go to the campus police. You were a professor, so the natural assumption was that they’d look into it.

They didn’t even take a report. No one listened to you.

From the campus police, you went into the city police, then the county, and by the time you marched into DC Metro, you hadn’t slept in a day. Spencer was in Utah on a case, and you didn’t have anywhere else to go. Once DC Metro told you there was nothing they could do without an open investigation or further evidence, you went back to your apartment.

The fourth note was there waiting for you, covering the camera that you kept on your front door.

Since you had the first three notes already in your bag, you plucked the newest one from where it was stationed on the front door and stuffed it in with the others before making the trip down to Quantico.

You had no idea when the team would be back, but the security guards at the front desk recognized you from the times you’d come to pick Spencer up or bring him lunch and they let you up anyway.

There were no notifications on your phone from Spencer letting you know that they were flying home, but the only place you felt safe was in their headquarters. The idea of going to see Penelope crossed your mind, but as a profiler-adjacent, she’d likely see right through you. You never dropped by, especially not when Spencer was away.

Settling yourself at his desk, you pulled an empty manila folder from a drawer, placed the notes neatly inside, and left it on Spencer’s desk before sitting in his chair and waiting for something to happen.

“Hey, Reid,” you heard a familiar voice from behind you. Slowly, you spun the chair around and looked at the team as they filtered in the glass doors.

Confused, Spencer tilted his head at you, clearly wondering why you were staking out the bullpen as he approached you. As he got closer, he observed the bags under your eyes, bloodshot from your lack of sleep over the last few days, “What’s wrong?”

Chewing on the inside of your lip, you clutched the folder like your life depended on it – for all you knew, it did. Your eyes followed Spencer as he knelt in front of you, accepting the folder when you handed it to him, “I think I’m in trouble,” you whispered, voice raspy from lack of use.

Your fiancé flipped through the pages, reading each of them a few times while you garnered attention from other members of the BAU. Tara, Derek, and JJ all crowded around Spencer’s desk, curious on your surprise appearance.

“I…” you faltered as you tried to explain what felt inexplicable. “The first one was folded over the doorknob of my office, the second one was slid beneath the door to my office, the third one was left on my desk, and the fourth one,” you glanced nervously at Spencer, “it was on the apartment door.”

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, “apartment door? Our apartment door?” As he questioned you, he stood up, leaving you with four federal agents staring down at you.

Despondently, you nodded, steepling your fingers in your lap and letting your shoulders droop.

“I’ll go get Hotch,” JJ said, nodding at everyone else to confirm her intentions before turning around, making her way up the steps to Hotch’s office.

From there, you ended up in the roundtable room. Tara had personally brought the letters for the lab to be checked for prints, and the techs had sent Garcia scans that were now projected on the screen. Each member of the team had them up on tablets, but you and Spencer knew the words by heart.

Shaking her head, Tara looked up at everyone, “I mean, who writes like this anymore? ‘But if you please to do the office of a true loyal mistress and friend, and to give yourself up body and heart to me, who will be, and have been, your most loyal servant,” she shrugged, continuing to look over the letters.

“They’re love letters,” you explained, tugging the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your palms before crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “The words aren’t original, they’re all passages from the love letters of Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn.”

Pointing to something on her screen, JJ frowned, “And what does his greeting mean? He always starts with ‘my rose without a thorn’.”

Nodding dejectedly, you focused your eyes on the now-empty manila folder on the table in front of you. “That was what Henry VIII called Catherine Howard, she was his youngest wife. It’s widely accepted among scholars that she was around seventeen when they got married, but others say she could’ve been as young as fifteen,” you answered, wondering if more details would help the investigation.

“So, we have Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, which wives were those?” Rossi asked, looking around the table for someone who knew the answer.

In the middle of scrawling something on an evidence board, Spencer answered quickly, “Two and five.”

Folding your hands in your lap, you scoured your memory for anything that could be helpful. When Hotch asked if those numbers meant everything to you, you just shook your head. “Is there any significance to the two wives he chose being Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard?”

Your lips parted in surprise as the blood drained from your face, “They were the two wives who were beheaded.”

An eerie silence fell over the room, interrupted only by a chime from Penelope’s laptop, her shoulders slumped forward in abject disappointment, “The lab didn’t find anything on the letters. No prints, no hair… nothing, but uh…” her voice trailed off as she looked up at Hotch, it was almost like she was seeking permission.

Each member of the BAU looked at each other with the same concerned expression on their faces. “What do you all know that I don’t?”

“Two bodies turned up last week in the greater DC area,” Morgan was the brave soul who spoke up, “they were both missing their heads, and they were both college professors.”

Goosebumps spread over your entire body, a chill of fear causing the tip of your nose to feel cold, “Oh, I…” you fumbled over your words, standing up from your chair and rushing to leave the roundtable, nearly throwing yourself out of the bullpen on your way to the women’s restroom.

Entering one of the stalls, you haphazardly gathered your hair at the back of your head and you dry heaved into the toilet. You dropped to your knees as nothing came out.

A knock at the door barely garnered your attention, you didn’t even bother responding as Spencer was already entering the stall, “Oh, honey.”

That was it, you sat back on your heels as tears welled in your eyes, looking up at Spencer as he sat down next to you. Immediately, you turned your body to face him and leaned forward.

Welcomingly, Spencer grabbed you, firmly wrapping his arms around your torso as he pulled you into his lap, “I have you. I’m right here.” His voice was gentle, no more than a whisper as he kept a firm pressure around your body, “You’re safe with me,” he reassured you, using one hand to keep you upright and the other to rub your back as you cried.

Your face was buried in the crook of his neck as you wept, the sensation of fear ran through your body like electricity, and you felt content for the first time in days in the safety of Spencer’s arms. “I- I just teach. I’m n- not built for this,” you cried, words slightly muffled by his shoulder.

You were a history professor, teaching a course on the six wives of Henry VIII, this was never even in the realm of things you considered when putting together your syllabus.

Taking a shaky breath, you pulled away from Spencer, and he reached behind you for a wad of toilet paper to dry your face. “Spence,” you said, though it came out as more of a whimper.

“When’s the last time you slept?” He asked, cupping both of your cheeks in his hands while he studied your exhausted expression.

Shrugging, you shuffled off of him, dropping the wad of toilet paper in the bowl and flushing it, “A day? Two?” You weren’t entirely sure what day it currently was, the events of the last few had caused everything to sort of blend together.

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Okay,” he responded, slipping his phone out of his pocket before typing something out, “Why don’t you go lie down in Morgan’s office for a little while? He won’t mind.”

You blinked a few final tears from your eyes before affirming, “Yeah, uh. I need to grab something from my car.”

“Okay, are you parked in the garage? I’ll go down with you,” he offered, getting up and lending you a hand up, mumbling about the state of the bathroom floor as he did so.

After washing your hands, the two of you made your way through the hall and to the elevator before Garcia called out for Reid, “Hotch needs you for something, he said it’s urgent.”

Glancing back at you, he pursed his lips before selecting a lower-level special agent to go with you to the parking garage. “Be right back,” you told him as you stepped onto the elevator.

him

Once he was finished with Hotch, Spencer made his way back down the hallway, expecting to find yourself settling in Morgan’s office only to find it empty. Turning back in the hallway, he nearly bulldozed into Morgan and JJ, “Hey, what’s the rush?”

“Have either of you seen Y/N?” He asked, trying not to let panic rise in his voice, but there had been ample time for you to get to the parking garage and back. You should’ve been back by now.

The two of them shared a look, “Uh, no, I haven’t seen her since she left the roundtable room. Is she alright?” JJ asked, blue eyes filled with concern.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Spencer hit the number one on speed dial – your number – and brought the phone to his ear before rushing to the elevator and moving to the side as JJ and Morgan piled in with him. Frantically pushing the button for the parking level, he cursed as the phone went to voicemail.

“Reid, what is it?” Morgan asked as the elevator started moving down.

Redialing your number, Spencer muttered to himself, hoping you’d pick up, “I sent her down with an agent. Hotch needed my apartment key so that Tara and Rossi could go look for anything.”

As the steel doors opened, the three of them drew their firearms, each of them taking a different direction when Spencer realized he didn’t even know where you had parked your car. “We have an agent down,” Morgan called out, calling Garcia and putting the phone on speaker. “Baby girl, we need medical and crime scene techs down to the lower-level parking garage,” he said into the phone.

“Spencer,” JJ called out, garnering his attention as he made his way through the garage to where JJ and Morgan were now stood, Morgan was applying pressure on Agent Franks’ wound, and JJ was looking at a car.

The passenger door to your car was open, and the vehicle was chiming as an alert to get you to close the door. As he stepped forward, something glimmered at the edge of his vision. Crouching down, he picked up your engagement ring from the cement, “He’s got her,” he said, a wave of déjà vu nearly toppling him over.

Impatiently waiting for the elevator to take him back up to the sixth floor, Spencer trudged to the roundtable room, desperate for another look at the evidence board. The dates of each letter that you had received, the content of each letter, and the reason for all of this didn’t make any sense to him.

It had to be an erotomaniac, it was the only thing that made sense. You were an object of someone’s desires, and their delusion had to have become so strong that they took you.

Quietly, someone stepped into the roundtable room behind him, “What are you thinking about?”

Imminent death. Statistics of harm and death in cases involving erotomanic kidnappings. “Synchronicity,” he answered simply, entertaining JJ’s conversation as he continued to study the letters. The love letters were at the core of it all, so the answer needed to be written in there. Everything that had come to you was almost an exact copy of words written by Henry VIII.

“Ah, that’s Jung, right?” JJ asked, her voice was kind, and she was using the same tone she used when doing cognitive interviews with victims. He didn’t have time for her pity, they were on a clock.

Sighing, Spencer picked his dry-erase marker back up and scrawled on the board, “It’s a concept that he introduced, yes. It’s meant to describe the occurrence of events which seem like they’re significantly related but there’s no discernable causation.”

JJ nodded understandingly, taking a spot next to him and looking at the notes, “And what occurrence of events are we thinking about right now?”

“I suppose more than anything, I’m wondering if there’s an action that I took in the past that somehow caused me to find myself in this situation twice,” he answered, circling the word ‘the place chosen by yourself’ on the evidence board.

Humming, JJ turned to face him, “Does Y/N know?”

Pressing his lips together in a thin, white line, he nodded tightly, “I told her years ago, when we had first started dating, actually. I never thought…” his voice trailed off as he set down the marker, “She came to me, JJ. She came here to be safe, and he grabbed her from the parking garage.”

“You sent her down there with an agent, you thought you were doing the right thing,” JJ tried to comfort him.

Scoffing dismissively, he stepped back and took a seat in one of the chairs, “I can’t stop thinking about if it would’ve made a difference. If her asking me for help would have fixed anything, or if it would have ended the same way.”

Taking a seat near him, JJ paused for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words, before responding, “We can’t really afford to think like that though, in our line of work.”

Spencer scoffed, “No, we can’t. Especially not now, but the timing of it is weird. It’s been almost exactly four years, and now…” his voice trailed off as his eye caught on something on the paper. “The timing is off,” he muttered, picking up the first letter you had received.

“What is it, Spence?” JJ asked, tilting her head to the side curiously.

Shaking his head, he read the letter again, “This letter, it’s from the first letter Henry VIII wrote to Anne Boleyn, but in this version, he says he’s been waiting for months to be with her, but they waited seven years to be together because they were waiting for his marriage to Catherine of Aragon to be annulled.”

Still confused, JJ leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, “Okay, what does that mean.”

“We ruled out a student because the crimes didn’t read as mature, but what if it’s a different kind of student?” He proposed, standing up from the chair abruptly and starting to write on the board.

Rolling her chair closer to the board, she shrugged, “I’m not sure I’m following.”

Holding up a single finger, Spencer wrote a name down on the board, “Y/N has a grad student TA, he’s been working toward his PhD for seven years. He’s been her TA for three months – that lines up with the timeline in the letters.”

“Okay,” JJ said, starting to follow along, she waved at the team members in the bullpen to get their attention before hitting the call button on the conference phone. “Penelope, what do you have on a Geoffrey Williamson? He’s a TA in Y/N’s class.”

There was typing on the other line before a sound of disgust came from the technical analyst, “He is a different kind of smarmy, it looks like he transferred programs two years ago to Y/N’s university after he… oh. It looks like he bounced from foster home to foster home as a kid, his parents never fully gave up their rights but couldn’t follow through on their case plan. He was unsuccessful in his last dissertation defense three months ago,” she continued clacking on her keyboard, “after which his mentor teacher dropped him and the school gave him one more semester before pulling his funding. He asked Y/N to be his new mentor teacher and it looks like she turned him down -very nicely, might I add.”

Scoffing, Morgan crossed his arms in front of his chest, “That sounds like a stressor and a trigger if I’ve ever heard one.

“Garcia,” Hotch spoke into the phone, “Do you have a location for Williamson?”

There was more typing as Spencer could feel his carotid pounding in his throat, “It looks like he lives in student housing, but… he recently inherited an old factory after his biological father passed away two weeks ago.”

Nodding, Hotch looked around the table, “Send us the address, and forward it to Rossi and Lewis too.”

“Done, go get her,” Penelope urged into the phone before hanging up.

He slipped your engagement ring into his pocket before adjusting the strap on his Kevlar, thrumming with nervous energy as Morgan coordinated with SWAT, waiting outside of the old textile factory as the tactical team organized themselves in front of the BAU.

Spencer and JJ took the left side, Rossi and Tara took the right, and Morgan and Hotch went through the main doors.

“No!” Your voice broke out through the steel corridors of the factory, immediately followed by a yelp.

There was an awful noise then, like metal scraping against itself, “Fucking say it!” An unfamiliar male voice broke out in a holler.

Steeling himself, Spencer had to hold himself back from rushing into the room where your voice was coming from, each one of your sobs was like another strike at his resolve. “Good Christian people,” he heard you say, your voice was strained, “I am come hither to die, for according to the law, and by the law I am judged to- to-“ Your voice broke off into a heap of wails.

“What is she saying?” JJ whispered, waiting for SWAT to clear the corridor.

All of the blood had drained from Spencer’s face, “She’s reciting Anne Boleyn’s execution speech, from right before she was beheaded.”

JJ nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation – they needed to get in there, and they needed to do it quickly. SWAT waved them over, and the two of them filtered through the open doorway. The space was dimly illuminated by candles, but the only thing Spencer could focus on was your head, bowed toward the ground as you watched the ground. Above you, Geoffrey was holding a sword, ready to cut your head off.

“Geoffrey Williamson, FBI!” JJ called out, announcing themselves to the UnSub before he could get any further in his convoluted execution, “Put the sword down! Let Y/N go.”

Spencer clocked the UnSub’s grip tightening on the sword as he zeroed in on you, “I can’t! She has to pay for this! She has to finish the speech.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but as you raised your head slightly, he found himself silenced by your gaze. Roll, he mouthed the words to you, hoping Williamson was too focused on JJ to notice what he was trying to tell you.

“And by the law I am judged to die,” you continued the speech, your voice wavering.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer watched as the UnSub raised the sword despite JJ’s instructions to set it on the ground, “Y/N, stop talking!”

Releasing another sob, you finished the execution speech, “And therefore I will speak nothing against it.”

As soon as the last word was out of your mouth, Williamson brought the sword down, and as it swung, two things happened. JJ pulled the trigger on her firearm, killing the UnSub, and you rolled out of the way, the chains that bound your hands and feet clanging on the ground as you did so.

Holstering his weapon, Spencer ran over to you, dropping to his knees in front of you, “It’s done. It’s over,” he tried to reassure you, but you had begun struggling against your restraints as Spencer tried to settle you down, “Stop, it’s me, baby. Baby, it’s me,” he said desperately.

Once you had maneuvered yourself into a sitting position, you looked at Spencer with big, watery eyes before completely breaking down. “I just wanted it to end,” you babbled as your face crumpled.

“I know, honey,” he said, reaching out to pull you close as JJ contacted the rest of the team, asking for a chain cutter to get your restraints off of you as they weren’t able to find the keys on the body. “He’s gone, you’re safe,” he urged, holding you tightly.

You weren’t seriously injured, but there were enough bumps and bruises to make Spencer insist on a trip to the hospital. Until the EMTs could make it to you, he was fine with holding you on the floor of the factory. Keeping you close. Keeping you safe with him.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x y/n #margot's requests

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littlemissmiller · 4 months

Text

𝑀𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑌𝑜𝑢

Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: the summer before you graduated college, Joel Miller became a regular at the bar you worked. he was perfect except one small problem…you already have a boyfriend

Warning: 21+ (drinking), fluff, slight age gap (reader is in her early 20s and Joel is 30) smut, oral (f receiving) p in v, slight body worshipping, porn with plot

Word count: 5.2k

A/N: i did it! i finally wrote a fic to live up to my blog name! i’m so proud of this one y’all like omg…i love it, it’s so perfect. such a cute lil fluffy smut (≧◡≦) ♡ also still can’t get over the fact that people like my little hobby, so thank you for all the love! it only encourages me to write more. speaking of which, i have so many stories for the summer coming up, especially with tom blyth coming back as billy. i already have a few stories started so hopefully they will be out sooner rather then later. ok that’s it i have nothing more to say. enjoy ❣︎

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It was your last summer before graduating college and being home made you want to cherish your last year even more. You were looking forward to it and ready to be done bartending so you could see your friends and have some real fun. Sure, this job made you a ton of cash, but being home was nothing in comparison to being with your college friends in a town totally catered to you and your fellow students. Although your hometown had its perks. At least it used to. Your longtime boyfriend had never left your hometown or went to college. He had instead opted for going into a trade and becoming an electrician.

Your relationship was strong at first, but every semester it became harder and harder to navigate. Time after time you had convinced yourself that he was still your best friend, but meeting new people in college and getting to experience the joys of youth on your own for the first time, had given you a lot of perspective. So every birthday, holiday, and summer, you felt like you were coming home to a completely different man. Yet you stayed with him because you really wanted to make it work and you told yourself you loved him. Yet something unexpected had happened. One evening at work, a group of men came in to watch the Rangers game. That’s when you first met him and that’s the night Joel Miller would become a regular at your bar.

He was clearly older, at least thirty, but you couldn’t help but practically gawk at him all night. And you couldn’t help but think that Joel was eyeing you too. But you felt a wave of guilt overcome you. You knew you shouldn’t feel like this. You knew you shouldn’t be staring down another man like that but you couldn’t help it. But his arms looked so strong, like he could carry you effortlessly. You couldn’t help the way you smiled every time he would share a boisterous laugh with his friends. His own sweet smile drew you in and you noticed he had the cutest cheek nimble on top of it. From his big chiseled nose to his perfectly crafted jawline, he was an absolute Adonis. Just then another wave of guilt washed over you and you tried to shake away your feelings of disloyalty as you walked into the kitchen, putting their food order in.

As you walked out of the kitchen and brought them their next set of drinks, you tried not to look at him so much but it’s hard not to. Then he spoke up.

“Hey darling? Could I get some more napkins when you get the chance?”

“Yeah sure!” You scurried off and came back immediately

He smiled at you as he thanked you which made your heart flutter. As you made your way back to the kitchen, another server catches up to you.

“Who’s the handsome cowboy at 13?” She asked

“Oh” you started “I’m not sure. Are you talking about the man in the white shirt?” You lied acting like she was talking about someone else

“Girl, don’t play. I can see him undressing you right now”

You glanced over, and caught him smiling at you while he sipped his beer. You started to smile back, when the guilt hit you again and you turned back to your co-worker.

“Oh…yeah…h-he is handsome yeah…but not like I’m interested.” You lied again

“Okaaay whatever you say…” she said unconvinced, rushing off to her table

Joel and his buddies left around 9 and you noticed that Joel leaves the biggest tip out of everyone. Around 10 o’ clock you clocked out and headed to your boyfriend’s house where you had planned on spending the night. Once you arrived, you walked straight into his room where he was playing some PC game. His back was towards you and he didn’t notice you at first with his big headset on. You hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek. He startled and you jumped back.

“Woah! Hey! Your home” he remarked, clutching his chest, barely glancing at you “Jesus you scared me.”

“Clearly” you giggled

“God don’t sneak up on me like that. Could have cost me the game” he sighed, as he returned his full attention to the screen.

“What ya playing?

“COD” he remarked dryly

“Are you gonna be finishing soon?” You inquired

“Ahh probably not. I figured you’d be too tired to hang after your shift so I told the boys I’d be on tonight.”

“I thought you said we would watch a movie after work tonight?”

“Oh yeah, I mean I don’t know I just kinda figured you’d want to go to bed when you got home. Plus you fall asleep to every movie we watch together”

“Yeah” you sighed in disappointment, wanting to follow it up with “but that’s not the point.” You knew he’d get upset at you for pulling him away from his game. “I just want to cuddle you.”

“Ok ok I got ya. I’ll be in bed soon, ok.” He said halfhearted, still not looking at you.

You changed into a pair of sweat shorts and an old shirt and got ready for bed. As you climb into bed you want to cry. And you questioned your guilt from tonight. Maybe it was because it had been a while since a man seemingly flirted with you that made you realize just how lousy your boyfriend has become. When was the last time he genuinely made you feel special? You fell asleep, but were woken up by small kisses on your neck, but your boyfriend began to move more aggressively, trusting and grinning his crotch against your ass. At that point you’re too tired for sex, and all you wanted was for him to hold you and care for you.

“Mmm babe I’m really tired” you whined

“I thought you wanted attention?” He asked, continuing his actions. You pushed away slightly but he continued, only pulling you closer against his chest.

“I do, just not like this. Not right now ok? I just want to sleep.”

He sighed, turning over

“See this is why I don’t want to do a movie with you. I knew you would be too tired.”

“That’s not…” you wanted to finish your sentence again and say “that’s not fair” but once again that would probably upset him and now he was annoyed with you so you don’t want to push it. “I just want to sleep now ok.”

“Ok. It’s fine. Goodnight.” He huffed, falling asleep.

The next couple of shifts your mind is preoccupied by your newfound feelings about your relationship. Your boyfriend wasn’t abusive by any means, but it was clear the relationship wasn’t healthy anymore. That’s when the crying at work started. Mainly because you had just come from his house before each shift and every interaction with him pained you. The only thing that kept you from continuously calling off was Joel. Almost every shift around 5 o’clock he would come in, order a few beers, maybe something to eat, and chat it up with you.

By the third week, all your co-workers were teasing you about him. Whenever his truck would pull up in the parking lot, someone would come get you.

“Your cowboy is here!” Someone yelled out to you, stepping out of the kitchen. You left the servers station to greet him.

“Hey Joel! Mich Ultra? You asked

“You know it darling. How you’ve been?” He smiled, causing you to practically melt into a puddle. You gathered yourself and smiled back at him.

“About the same as the last time you saw me.”

“And still as beautiful as ever.” He winked

“You flatter me Mr. Miller. I bet Mrs. Miller is one special lady hmm?” You asked more or less trying to see if he was actually flirting with you or just being nice.

“She would if there was one.”

“Oh I thought you said you have a daughter?” You questioned more

“And a man can’t be a single dad in this world? How sexist of you” he chuckled sarcastically

You rolled your eyes at him and laughed along.

“I just thought such a handsome cowboy as yourself would have a beautiful gal to go home to.”

“I wish…” he sighed, eyes giving you a once over

“So where is she then? Your daughter? If not with her mom. You know we allowed kids in before 9 right?”

“Yeah, she just has soccer practice at this time three days a week. I figured why not wait for her to be done and come see you since I’m out and about.” He explained

“Ain’t you just a charmer.” I’ll get you that beer.”

You walk over to behind the bar and fetch Joel his beer.

“He’s just all over you” one of the bartenders remarked

“And he tips well too.”

“Gee I wonder why” they smirked, giving you a look “how does your boyfriend feel about him?”

“I mean he’s just a customer. They flirt all the time and who doesn’t like the extra cash?” You started quickly

“Mhmm sure” they said

You walk back to him, bringing him his beer and continuing to chat with him. He ordered another beer then left to go pick up his daughter Sarah.

Now every time at work shift, it felt like an escape. It also felt like a fantastic secret that only you knew about. A fantasy being played out in real life. Joel was so charming.

Even though he was older, his youthful demeanor shone through. He was caring too. If he wasn’t asking about you and your life, he was talking about his daughter. You could tell she was his world. He absolutely adored her, and you loved to listen to him go on and on about her. You didn’t quite care what your co-workers would say or how your boss didn’t like that you hovered around his table, sometimes neglecting your other ones.

But he couldn’t complain too much given Joel was a respectful, paying customer. And a great tipper. And he would always leave a little note on his receipt. Nothing too flirtatious, just innocent enough to toe the line. This went on for a couple more weeks, your boyfriend none the wiser. Not like he was paying much attention to you anymore. Every note, you would take them and make sure to hide them when you got home. You stored them in your sock drawer and kept them secret like everything else about him. You still felt guilty though and realize that you need to end things with your boyfriend. It’s harder than you thought and truthfully you don’t know how to leave someone you’ve cared about that much. And been with for so long. But talking to Joel made you realize what you needed. And what you wanted. And you wanted him. And something told you he wanted you too.

Then back at home, living with your boyfriend it was a totally different reality. He felt so disconnected from you, so indifferent. And the more you faded away from him the less you felt like you really loved him still. And he noticed you pulling away from him. One night, you came home and had kept another one of Joel’s receipts.

“See you Wednesday :) Joel”

You left your server book out on his bed, along with your purse and hopped into the shower without thinking. When you got out of the shower, your boyfriend was sitting on his gamer chair, nose deep in your server book. You froze and tightened the towel around you nervously.

“Oh hey babe. When did you get home? I thought you and the boys were having a boys night? “

“We decided to just get dinner instead. What’s this?” He asked, holding up the receipt.

“Oh, just one of my regulars. Don’t worry about it.” You giggled, trying to play it cool reaching for the book. He holds it back from you and stands up.

“Who’s Joel?”

“My regular” you repeated

“Oh yeah. I bet he tips you well hmm? Pays you lots of attention?” He asked accusatorily.

“I-he…he’s just a regular we get them all the time.”

“Yeah, but you said he is one of YOUR regulars. Why yours? Why is he writing you notes?”

“He-he just always sits in my section I don’t know. That’s not too unusual…and a lot of customers write thank you notes and stuff I can’t control them!” You insisted, readjusting your towel again

“You expect me to believe that?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Well I don’t need creepy men hitting on my girl at work.” He barked back

“He’s not creepy and you’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh then what is he?”

“He’s just a customer!” You argued even though it was a lie

From that moment on, your boyfriend had grown highly suspicious of your relationship with him and Joel. Wednesday rolled around and Joel showed up again as expected. You nervously approached him as he sat down.

“Well hey their sugar” he smiled

“Hey Joel” you replied, only giving him a half smile

He searched your face and could tell something is up.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, just life stuff. So Mich Ultra?”

He nodded and you walked off. His eyes followed you, watching you as you went to the bar. You came back and gave him his beer. You wanted to set it down and walk away, but Joel’s concerned eyes beckoned you to say.

“Thinking about food?” You asked him

“Maybe. I’m sorry doll, I don’t mean to pry but if I did anything to put you off-“

“No Joel of course it’s not you it’s just…relationship issues” you huff

“Sorry to hear that sugar. I hope y’all can work it out”

“I hope so” you sigh, knowing it’s a lie.

Just then your boyfriend storms into the bar. You don’t notice him at first, but then you hear a set of heavy footsteps approaching towards you and you look up. Confused, you call out his name.

“What are you doing here?”

“Can’t visit my girl at work anymore?” He asked glancing at Joel

“Excuse me.” You mumble to Joel, walking over to him and grabbing his hand. You lead him out of the building.

“What are you doing?!” You shouted

“Is that him? Is that Joel?” he sneered

“Why do you care all of a sudden hmm? You’ve barely paid attention to me in the last few months. What happened to us?” You nearly sobbed.

He sighed and shook his head

“What do you want from me? I mean I’m frustrated with you too if that helps. You have completely shut yourself off, don’t tell me shit! I’m upset too! Especially that I know you’re flaunting yourself around weirdo old men.”

“Stop! That’s it, I can't do this anymore. I’m so scared to tell you anything because of how you act when I share your feelings. When I come home, you ignore me and frankly it seems like you only give me affection when you want to fuck me!”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, throwing his arms up.

“Oh my god! You over exaggerate everything. Is this why you’re acting like an attention seeker? Because you think I don’t pamper you?”

“Unbelievable. Pampering really…you know what I’m not arguing with you! I’m done! We’re done!” You shout and storm back into the back

“Done? Really like that? Four years done like that? Fine whatever, be that way, I know you don’t mean it. I’ll see you at home.” And he storms off back to his car.

You wanted to cry as you stormed back into the bar, but you held yourself together.

You tried to hide your clearly upset face as you rushed back into the kitchen and into the back alley next to the dumpsters. Joel noticed and ran out of the bar looking for you. He searched around the building then he called out to you.

“Hey. What’s wrong.”

You can’t help it. One look at him, and you ran into his arms. He embraced you, holding you tight.

“Hey my little firefly…what’s wrong?” He asked, his sweet southern drawl falling like your tears.

“I loved him Joel… why do people stop loving you back…” you sobbed

Joel gently stroked your hair, attempting to calm you down. It didn’t feel strange to be held by him. You felt safe, and comfortable in his arms, despite barely knowing him or even having any interaction with him outside of work, that moment felt right.

“I don’t know darling.” Joel sighed

You eventually gathered yourself and go back inside with him. Your boss thankfully didn’t notice your absence. Joel returned to his table and you returned to your other patrons. After his beer, Joel left and you didn’t really get a chance to see him leave. When you went to collect his tap you saw another note this time with his phone number and it read:

“Gotta go get Sarah. Call me if you need to talk”

Your heart dropped. He had finally given you his number and at the same time you still felt guilty. Even though you had, despite what your now ex-boyfriend thinks, finally ended your relationship. And here the opportunity was. Right in front of you. You look at the receipt, take it, fold it and immediately put it in your pocket to keep it safe. You clock out at ten and are all too eager to get into your car to call Joel. Once you do, you dial the number and it rings.

“Hello?”

“He-hey Joel it’s me…” you uttered

“You ok darling?” He asked sweetly

Maybe it was his voice, the question, or the fact that the weight of the burdens of your life seemed to have fallen apart around you, but you cried again. Letting it all out and at the same time feeling better than ever.

“Hey hey hey” Joel whispered “I just put Sarah to bed…why don’t you come over here? We can talk ok?”

You nodded and sobbed.

“Ok…”

Joel texted you his address and you put it into your GPS. It’s only about a ten minute drive to his house and when you pulled up, you nervously exit your vehicle. You walked up the front door and knocked quietly, not wanting to wake Sarah. A moment later, it swung open and Joel’s handsome face looked at yours with deep concern.

“Come on in.”

You nodded and walked into his home. As expected it’s much nicer than your boyfriends, but then again Joel is an actual adult, with a kid, and mortgage to pay off so it was to be slightly expected. It wasn’t too fancy, just your standard suburban home. You walked over to the couch and Joel followed you.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Honestly I need something a little strong. Got any whiskey?”

He smiled ear to ear.

“Ya betcha.” And he rushed off into his kitchen.

You made yourself comfortable and tried to relax as you looked around Joel’s living room. You curiously strode over to his bookshelf and read the titles. Lots of history books, a few fiction and then you noticed the framed photo of him and his daughter. You realize you’ve never seen a photo of her, but she’s just as beautiful as you could have imagined. You smiled and Joel caught you in your curiosity.

“She’s been my little gem since day one. Just me and her. I don’t think I ever told ya, but her mom left us so…” he remarked.

You looked at him, smiled and nodded.

“She’s beautiful, Joel. You’re a great dad.”

Joel sat the glasses of whiskey down on the shelf and reached for your hand. You gasp slightly, look at where he’s touched you and then look up into his eyes. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“You asked me why people stop loving people back and ya know, I still don’t have a good answer for that. I guess it’s because I’ve been asking myself the same thing for the last twelve years.”

“Joel…you’re such a good man…” you sighed, squeezing his hand.

“You’re too kind darling.” He smiled

“No really.”

You stared at him for a moment. His eyes searched your own looking for what he suspected you wanted from him. He cupped your face and he leaned in to kiss you. His lips fit perfectly against yours, like he was made for you. It was perfect and passionate. He was so gentle, yet you could feel how badly he had wanted this moment with you. He pulled back for a moment to make sure he hadn’t crossed the line.

“Got a bedroom?” You smirked

Before you knew it, Joel was crawling on top of you and you took off your shirt. At the same time he was busy frantically kissing your neck and jaw. He tossed it off and Joel took a moment to admire your chest. He gasped and reached to grope your breasts. Your soft, perky mounds fit perfectly in his hand and he began to massage you. He was in utter awe of you. Almost overwhelmed that he was getting to have you like this. You stared back up at him, equally in awe at that moment.

His big brown eyes melted your heart and all your troubles melted too. Fuck your lousy ex. All you wanted and needed was Joel. He kissed you again as he continued to play with your breasts. You let out a few giggles that turned into harsh, sharp moans as he moved his mouth down your body.

“Fuck…” you whispered, the word dancing around the room.

As his lips trailed you, your body reacted, your hips bucked and you were practically squirming under him. When his mouth found your cleavage, you felt the heat in between your legs grow stronger.

He continued to kiss you, only breaking away to take off his own shirt. He was toned, his skin smooth and he was unbelievably broad. You couldn’t help but admire the way his collar bone met his neckline. It was clean and sharp. You tried not to think of your ex, but in comparison he was not as fit as the gorgeous man in front of you. You placed your hands on his chest and felt his pecs, running your fingers down to his abdomen. You leaned up to kiss him again. His lips were so soft and addictive. You could’ve kissed him all night, but your desires beckoned for more. He held you up slightly and flipped you over. As he did he unhooked your bra and you let it fall off your chest. He tossed it on the ground and admired your bare chest for the first time.

“You’re so gorgeous. “ he uttered as your hair fell in front of you.

He pushed it out of the way and cupped your face. He pulled you back down to capture your mouth once again, lightly gripping the back of your neck. Your bare boobs pressed down against his chest, a feeling which you love. Skin on skin, the close intimacy and the feeling of being wanted more than just something to fuck. That’s how your ex had made you feel the last few months when you and him had sex, so being touched, cherished by Joel made your head spin. You weren’t used to it and you could feel your body reacting to the unfamiliar sensations. Joel noticed.

“Baby, you ok?”

You blushed at the nickname, smiled and nodded.

“It’s just been some time since I felt like this.”

“When’s the last time he touched you?”

“I-I mean we would have sex once or twice a week…”

“When is the last time he really touched you though. Made you feel special?”

You simply stared at him speechless and tilted your head.

“You know what, forget about him. Just focus on me. Let me make you feel good like you deserve.”

With that, he decided to be bold and reached for your mini skirt. He pulled it down past your hips and you lifted them up so he could pull it off you. He tossed it on the ground with your bra and his hands immediately moved to cup your ass. He squeezed the pillowy flesh as you moved your hips. You could feel him getting hard under you and you eagerly reached for his belt. His hands moved up to your waist, rocking you more. You undo his belt and he lifted up his hips to take off his pants. He slid them off along with his boxers, revealing his length. It was perfect. Just the right size, the mushroom tip red and swollen. Encouraged by his actions, you slide your panties off and you are both completely bare in front of each other.

He soaked the sight of your naked beauty in, eyes trailed over all your curves and edges. You were simply divine to him, a work of art. He runs his hands back up to your chest, briefly groping them, his eyes completely focused on your face. You grab his cock and began slowly stroking it. His mouth drops slightly as he watched you. He tilted his head back on the pillow briefly, before he looked back up to watch you. His breathing became ragged and you picked up your pace. You start to move on top of him, guiding his cock to your entrance, but he stops you.

“Let me get you wet.” He insisted, grabbing your hips and flipping you again. Immediately, he kissed down your body, worshiping you. “You’re so perfect. If you were my girl I’d never stop showing you how perfect you are.” He muttered in between kisses.

He kissed your inner thigh before he experimentally rubbed your clit. You gasped, your hips bucked in his face. He smirked at your reaction, loving how you responded to his touch. Taking that as a sign you wanted more, he gently kissed your slit. He gave you another one and another one until the little pecks of his lips turned into the sloppy mess of his tongue. It had been ages since a man had gone down on you like this. Your ex-never warmed you up beforehand anymore, too eager to satisfy his own desire and pleasure. Joel knew how to be a real man. His tongue and lips suck and rub at your core. He moved his head too, adding to the friction. You reached for his brown locks, desperately in need of something to hold onto. He hung onto your hips and he moved you against his face. He moaned against your core, eating you out like you were the most delicious meal of his life. He pulled back, out of breath and drunk in your juices.

“Could taste ya all day darling.”

You nodded as he inserted a finger in you, twisting it. He slowly pumped it into you, curling it up as he added another finger. He watched as your face scrunched up in pleasure. He sped his hand up, totally focused on getting you to finish.

“Joel…Joel…Joel…” you chanted “Gonna cum”

He nodded and worked you a bit more until you tightened down around his digits. You came hard, the euphoria rushed through your body like a roller coaster.

“So beautiful oh my god.” He praised, rubbing your thighs.

He crawled back up to you. He kissed you letting you taste yourself. You hadn’t felt this kind of passion in a while, this intense feeling of intimacy.

“You ready? He asked, slowly rubbing your clit again.

You nodded as he lined himself up with your slit. You felt as his cock pushed past your folds and stretched you out perfectly. You gasped and he kissed your cheek feather light. He cooed at you as he slid in, hitting the back of your cervix. You gasped, which turned into a raspy moan that floated from your lips. Joel cupped your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek. You two shared in the silence of your pleasure for a moment, taking in how good the other felt. He moved, slow at first then he sped up. He felt so full inside you, and you lost yourself in the sensation of his length. You could have stayed like that all night, the steady motion of his cock pumping into you was pure bliss.

“Does that feel good?” Joel inquired lovingly

“Yes, please Joel I want more. I need more of you.”

Per your request, he gave you more, slightly giving into his own desires to want to ravish you. But given it’s your first time with him, Joel didn’t want a sloppy, lustful encounter. Yet, he picked up his speed, his length now hitting the back of your walls at an almost brutal pace. Joel makes sure to keep checking in on you to make sure you’re okay or that it doesn’t hurt too much. You panted and panted as he continued, gripping onto his waist with your legs, pushing him deeper into you. He moved a bit more then flipped over. You smiled at him, slightly out of breath.

“I want to see that beautiful body riding me. Is that ok?”

You nod enthusiastically, slowly starting to move your hips. Joel’s hands groped your ass, rocking you on him more. He sat up, pressed his lips firmly against yours and held you tight. You started to bounce on him which elicited a guttural moan from his lips. He moved his hand to your hips, looking up at you in awe.

How could anyone not treat you like the absolute treasure you are?

Joel thought and wondered to himself as he held you. He couldn’t believe that your ex-boyfriend would neglect you. What a foolish man, but now he had you. In the exact moment he had imagined. He had you. He moved his hips in sync with yours. You steadied yourself on his shoulders, ecstasy, providing you escape. Your breath hitched as you feel his cock stiffen more inside you. He was close. You didn’t want it to end but then again you had a feeling this wouldn’t be your last encounter with Joel. A few last rocks of your hips and he was spent. He pulled you off him abruptly as he shot his load onto his stomach. You caught your breath, resting your forehead against his. You held his jaw in your hands, settling your hips.

“Joel…” you whispered, the words ghosting over your lips.

“Yes darling..” he whispered back

“Y-you have no idea how much I wanted you like this.”

“I know. Me too, but not just like this. I want you. All of you. Can I please have it?” He nearly begged

Your enthusiasm took over you and you planted a spontaneous kiss on his lips.

“Yes Joel…you can have all of me.”

꧁✩★✩꧂

1K notes · View notes

dcxdpdabbles · 9 months

Text

Alfred's Boy Part 5

@donesodone said: I just wanted to know. Is there a continuation of Alfred's Boy in the Works? If not, that's fine. I just love it and want to see it continue.

Bruce didn't realize how quiet Danny indeed was until Wes appeared. He suspected, of course, that no child was removed from their home by a super secret ex-spy if it wasn't a terrible, horrible reason, but still, he was shocked to see the difference.

Alfred's foster son had a weight around him, wearing his sadness like a depressing cloak. It was apparent that Danny was just tired. As if though he hadn't gotten a good night's rest in a long time, even when he was moving about and doing his chores like nothing was amiss.

Bruce will admit that he hadn't realized that Danny was so sad. He had no previous reference to compare him to, so he assumed that the boy was naturally reserved.

If he's honest, he also thought it was impressive how Danny could take anything in stride without so much as a blink.

Finding out his boss was Batman? Another Tuesday.

Tim's photo album of him? Danny appreciates the art behind photography.

Damian burst into his room, covered in bleeding wounds, he just had to have Danny bind? He took lessons from Alfred and appreciated the change to practice.

What he failed to realize was through all those events, Danny had had a lukewarm reaction, as if he had forgotten how to enjoy things.

Now, however, watching him with Wes, he realizes that Danny is naturally bubbly. He smiled wide, talked a lot with his hands, and while the same sass he had seen before was still there, there was more ease in him wielding it.

"Fun Fact: Tango was initially invented to be done between two men, " He hears Wes say, as Bruce walks by the viewing room the two boys were in.

Unable to help himself, Bruce peeks into the room, fighting the urge to lecture Danny. The reason for the lecture is that Danny is currently sitting in Wes's lap, his back to Wes' chest, and both are staring at the book "Useless Information" in Wes' hands.

Not dating his ass.

"So what you're saying is: Tango is gay," Danny affirms, cuddling into the blankets tucked around him, and leaning further into Wes. "The dance of our people."

Wes hums, "If only we could dance."

"Boys." He calls because he really wants to step between them, but Bruce is already doing that against his kids, and he is done being the civilian in Jason's novels. "Would either of you like to go to an opera tonight? I have some box seat tickets a close friend gave me, but I had other plans and didn't want them to go to waste."

Bruce didn't, but a little white lie wouldn't hurt anyone. He could easily buy them before the kids got to the opera house.

Wes's eyes practically sparkled. Bruce knew they would; he heard Wes play some songs from three famous operas the other day while Danny was showering. "Opera with box seats!? I love to go!"

Danny grimaces, clearly not that big of a fan. "Now look what you did, Master Bruce."

"Please, can we go, Danny?" Wes whines, "I'll let you haunt me if we go."

Danny cracks a smile, and Bruce is stunned by its softness. Had he not noticed how empty Danny's smiles have been until now? "Okay, Okay, we can go. But if I fall asleep you can't complain."

"How could anyone fall asleep at the Opra?"

"Easy. It's boring." Steph snips, leaning on the door frame. Bruce hadn't realized she was there. He frowned in her direction, not missing how Wes rolled his eyes.

"Hello, green-eyed monster. How are you this evening?" He said, making Steph eyes narrow. Danny was swinging his head between them, looking confused, but before he could ask, Wes continued, "Want to go with us? Danny needs more people to cuddle, and my visit has an expiration date."

Steph looks taken back, but her whole face breaks into the largest smile Bruce has ever seen on her face in a while when Danny nods, seemingly embarrassed. "It would be nice to have more cuddles. I, ugh, realized I was going too long without them."

Hmm, that's the fifth time the two have mentioned cuddling since yesterday. Bruce knows he ignored Wes's entrance when he got here yesterday, but maybe he should look into it.

If Alfred allowed, of course.

"I'll go get ready!" Steph shouts, racing down the hall. There is a brief pause before a loud "Hey, watch it!" and quick, distant "Sorry, Jason!"

His second oldest stridden into the room, grumbling at the giant front stain on his shirt. A half-empty cup in his hand lets Bruce know Steph bumped into him, making him spill his precious soda.

"Can't get any peace around here," Jason mumbles.

"I can clean that for you, Master Jason." Danny is quick to say, standing up from his seat. Wes lifts his arm to let Danny wiggle out of his grasp, but Jason only shakes his head.

"Nah, it's fine, kid." With one hand, Jason yanks the shirt over his head. Wes drops his book, and Danny's face goes very red. Bruce has a moment of utter horror, but Jason doesn't seem to notice, throwing the ruined shirt over his shoulder. "I was going to shower after some reading anyway. What are you crazy kids up to?"

"O-Oprea," Danny shutters, staring up at Jason with strange emotion in his eyes. Wes looks like a deer caught in headlights beside him.

Jason's face brightens. "No way! I love the opera."

"You do?" We gasped.

"Yeah, though, I'm more of a play guy myself. I love the theater. Once a drama kid always a drama kid." Jason winks and, oh no, Wes looks to be swooning. What's worse, Danny seems to be swooning too.

"Want to come with?" Wes blurts, and Jason considers the invitation carefully before shrugging.

"You know what? Yeah, I love to. Let me go take my shower then get ready. It's at what time?"

"Seven," Bruce answers, stepping in when both boys seem unable to get their tongues to work. Jason nods, and then a wicked smirk grows on his face.

Bruce is instantly weary.

"Let's make this a family event. You guys don't mind, right?" Jason turns back to the boys, shaking their heads like bobble figures.

"The more, the merrier, Master Jason."

"Perfect" Quick as a whip, Jason pulls out his phone and sends a quick message. He leaves the room, but not before calling over his shoulder "I'll meet you in the main doorway at six-thirty."

Bruce's phone buzzes. He pulls it out, reading the message: Hey losers, Danny wants to see the Oprea. The really romantic one. Do any of you want to join us?

He feels a headache coming on. Especially with Wes and Danny looking at each other with shocked open mouths, looking like they were wordlessly expressing how attractive they thought Jason was.

Tim comes sprinting down the hall. Bruce is unsure what he is doing, seeing as his hair is wrapped in a towel, but he is wearing half of a chicken costume as he runs by. "I want to go, I want to go, I want to go! Don't leave without me!"

Wes squints at the open door hallway before laughing that strange, impish laugh of his. "This place is a riot."

Danny pauses before that same soft smile blooms on his face, and Bruce's heart melts. "Yeah, I like Wayne Manor too."

Maybe Danny isn't as happy as before, but maybe one day he will be. Bruce would be content with that.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Alfred's boy #Part 5 #Danny has a medical condition where he needs cuddles #Wes has been in Wayne manor for fourteen hours and is tearing them apart #Jason is HOT and the Amity people know it #Bruce isn't sure if Wes and Danny are a thing #Nothing makes sense at Wayne manor #You bet all of Danny's wanna be sutiors are getting dressed to the nines for opra

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hauntingsofhouses · 9 months

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uhhh thinkin about how mizu and taigen's relationship was described as "this meeting of the minds, this meeting of the swords, that they could not share with anybody else" in one of the netflix articles about the show

and i'm going crazy because YEAH they're both equally invested about swords and fighting in a way that nobody else in their lives are. and that's just. so important considering we're talking about mizu, who sees her sword as her own soul.

and it's not JUST mizu who's obsessed with fighting. taigen is too. cuz like after their duel at the shindo dojo, as taigen is examining his bald spot in the mirror where mizu cut off his hair, he literally interrupts his own turmoil over losing his honour, just to express his awe, openly admiring mizu's skill DESPITE the fact that mizu just beat his ass and stripped his honour and status from him

then in the next episode, mizu says a very similar line when she examines the cut flower that fowler had pinned to heiji shindo's robe.

this was also such a sudden thing to notice in the middle of their conversation (my interpretation of this is that it hints to fowler's own skills with a blade, and gives mizu information about her enemy being a formidable opponent), but the fact that mizu had such a keen eye and managed to hone in on such a tiny detail from like a foot or two away is interesting because it shows us just how attentive mizu is, especially when it comes to blades and anything to do with them

to mizu (when she's not spiralling and agonising over her own self-hatred and the way the world treats her), swords are not a mere tool for revenge, but an art form which she is fascinated by and loves and admires. we see this from time to time, during rare moments of respite, like when she admires the duel in the beginning of ep4

mizu also takes to heart all the teachings from her years training, while taigen is interestingly less strict about them, basically disregarding some of those teachings as mere pedantry, or even if he doesn't actually really think so, he at least tells mizu as much in his attempt to comfort her after her sword breaks

but that doesn't mean he doesn't care for the more formal aspects of his training at all. because in ep3 when he says this

this line about mount sumeru is not talking about the literal mountain in front of them, but is a recitation of a line from the lotus sutra, which is among the mahayana sutras that they learned as part of their spiritual training, as zen buddhism forms a lot of the basis for samurai doctrines and philosophy. the sutra given more emphasis in the show is the heart sutra that mizu writes on her body in ep7 during her rite of rebirth

so taigen saying this line, as i see it, is a way to bond with mizu, or at least make conversation over their shared knowledge, as we see him await a reaction as soon as he says this. but mizu gives him none, and he looks disappointed/annoyed/frustrated or what have you as he watches her walk off without a word

also we see a little more of their shared knowledge of swordsmanship in the last episode when it's clear that mizu has been training ringo in sword fighting techniques

and later taigen recognises it instantly

they're both nerds about swords and fighting!!! they both respect each other's skills!!!

GOD i really hope in future episodes they get to bond some more over their shared passion and common training and just samurai camaraderie in general!!! mizu clearly loves the artistry of sword fighting so much, she deserves to have a confidant who shares that with her, someone she can talk openly about these things to!!!

because like remember when mikio was telling her about the naginata, she looked soooo uwu in love!!! admiring her husband as he showed off the weapon and told her the benefits of using it!!! believing at the time that she'd found a match who she could openly share her love of martial arts with!! she was having so much fun sparring him too. everyone says fighting is part of her love language and YES it IS!!!

except the difference is that mikio—due to, among other things, their large age difference and subsequent gap in life experience—believes he is mizu's teacher, rather than her equal. this is the role he's readily taken throughout their marriage, from teaching her how to throw a knife to cut down fruit (not like she needed that particular lesson), to teaching her equestrian skills.

meanwhile taigen and mizu were both kids growing up poor in the same backwater fishing village, which means that they are and always have been PEERS. and this becomes even more pronounced once taigen is stripped of his giant ego and unlearns his prejudice, allowing them both to fully respect each other and view each other as equals

which is again why it frustrates taigen when mizu admits later in this scene that she basically doesn't care about saving the shogun. like he gets mad because it upends his initial belief in their shared goals and aligned values, believing them both to be samurai of equal standing and honour.

ALSO i'd like to add, that though mizu is the better swordsman as we see her win all their brawls and matches, she doesn't surpass him by that much, and mizu knows this.

these words coming from mizu is such a huge compliment all things considered, acknowledging that he was strong enough to deserve fighting her, because shortly before this mizu was just about to say "no one has given me much of a challenge" only for taigen to enter the scene and, well, challenge her.

now combine this with her saying that chiaki's broken blade suits him well, giving to him HER sword which SHE made AND won, as a surety, promising him a duel that he "deserves". it's proof that even though she finds taigen an annoying brat and oftentimes an obstacle to her mission for revenge, she DOES respect him and does value his skills.

IN CONCLUSION nobody else is on their level, nobody else shares their love of swordsmanship and that is such an important factor to their bond and the way they relate to each other. i rest my case your honour

#mizu x taigen #taigen x mizu #taimizu #taizu #blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #taigen blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai meta #i caaaant stop thinking about THEM #like im soooo sorry im being annoying and cant shut up about these two #the brainrot is real yall. pray for me in these trying times #shut up haydar #meta dissertations.pdf #fandom.rtf

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ladyloveandjustice · 1 month

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So I have no stake in ships in Avatar the Last Airbender, I do not have any real ships for the show. But when I was looking in Katara's tag for art and stuff, I saw this reoccuring claim that Katara always supported Aang with his problems and feelings, but that Aang never supported her back with hers.

And I don't care about the ships, but I do really like the friendships in Avatar, and that bothers me. It's a slight on Aang, but also on Katara (implying she wouldn't stand up for herself and break it off if a friend was all take and no give, which doesn't fit her personality at all.)

Aang does support Katara whenever he gets the chance, which is unfortunately few and far between because Katara seems to have a hard time leaning on the people she cares about and talking in depth about her own trauma and feelings about it, though she will do so when she literally doesn't care what the person thinks about her (and both times she opened up to Zuko about her Mom initially were her lashing out at him and not caring what he thought about her in return).

This would be something that would need to be addressed for a romantic relationship between them to truly work, and I imagine it would be part of the journey of finding a way to stay together, but it's very much not Aang's fault. And as I said, when he gets a chance to support her she does. Since I just recently rewatched most of the series, have a list of those times!

-His first time being supportive of her is literally a half hour after they first meet. As soon as she tells him about wanting more waterbending experience, he enthusiastically offers to fly all the way to the north pole so they can find her a master. And this very clearly means a lot to her.

-I don't think Aang knew how supportive of her he was being here, but there's the "I haven't done this since I was a kid" "You still are a kid!' exchange. As much as people accuse Aang of seeing Katara as his Mom (he's literally the one character who doesn't express that he does in The Runaway btw and I think that's for a reason) their first interaction establishes that he sees her as a kid, just like him, and think she should have fun like a kid does. This must have been huge for Katara, who'd been forced to take on adult responsibilities at a young age, who resented having to hold the family together, who thought her childhood was over. Aang helped her have fun and be the kid she is, and he'll continue to do so.

-When she lost her mother's necklace (And Zuko subsequently stole it) he was very concerned for her feelings and seemed to immediately understand the weight of that loss, due to his own experiences with loss. Not only did he make her a new necklace to wear as a way to comfort her, as soon as he saw Zuko had it he said "you're giving that back to me" and risked being hit by Zuko in his attempts to grab it. Then he gave it back to her and she was ecstatic!

-He was so supportive of her during the waterbending scroll episode it's actually ridiculous, despite how she lashed out at him. It's unclear if he actually understood she was upset or if this was just his unwavering respect for her coming out, but when she was upset that he learned the first move faster than her he said "well you didn't have such a great teacher!" and it clearly makes her feel better for a bit. He immediately forgives her for lashing out at him, doesn't judge her at all for stealing the waterbending scroll, or for accidentally dragging them into trouble. He, in fact, goes out of the way to reassure her, looking happy at the chance to work together and reminding her they need two waterbenders. And he appreciates her joke at the end (he's just straight up being simp (affectionate) there, and I get it).

-When Pakku won't teach her he immediately denounces him as wrong and unfair and is willing to sacrifice his own education (which he needs to save the world) because he won't stand for it. He remains upset about it even after Katara persuades him, tries to secretly show her what Pakku taught him, and cheers her on when she fights him.

-When she's crying over Jet's death, he's the first one to notice and reach out to her, putting his hand gently on her shoulder and drawing her into a hug (that becomes a group hug). She smiles and clearly feels comforted. They probably talked about it offscreen too (but this cannot be shown as they would need to directly acknowledge his death to do so)

-He's pretty much always praising her as a teacher, and when she grumbles about him not calling her Sifu, he goes out of his way to call her that.

-He notices that she's mad at her Dad and asks her about it, but she deflects

-He looks really sad when he has to remind her she has to take off her mother's necklace for their Fire Nation disguises, again it's something he very much seems to empathize with her about, he understands the weight of what it means to her.

-He not only doesn't judge her for lying during the Painted Lady saga, but praises her and enthusiastically helps her commit ecoterrorism.

-Both he and Sokka move to comfort her when she's crying after the bloodbending fiasco. Most of the comforting of her happens offscreen, which I do think is a shame, and a contrast to how Aang is handled- but it's more of a "he's the main character" thing, since the same happens for Sokka as well (I'm sure Katara and Aang talked to him about Yue's death and at least tried to comfort him, but we don't get to see that).

-He was trying to support her during the Southern Raiders ep, whether you believe he did it well or not, both according to his beliefs and cultural values and by trying to emulate the ways she's talked HIM down from revenge and hatred in the past. He specifically brings up those two incidents- losing his people and losing Appa- where she stepped in to keep him from losing himself to rage. As this post notes, he also specifically echoes her phrasing from when she was urging him not to lose himself to the Avatar state (she says "watching you be in that much rage and pain is really scary" and he echoes "you're feeling unbelievable pain and rage" while talking to her in this ep.)

It's not just the air nomads he's trying to emulate here, but her. Just like Katara doesn't want to see him consumed by hatred and pain, he wants the same for her. His concern is not for her mother's killer, but for her, he fears this will hurt her, just like her concern was always for him and how this would hurt him in those times he was raging.

He wants to do for her what she did for him. But, Katara is not him. She is not someone who will be talked down by someone else when she is grieving, angry, and looking for revenge. Nobody can stop her when she sets her mind to it. She needs to wrestle with whether to kill him and she needs to come to her own conclusions, because she's the only one that can stop her. And Aang realizes that. He says it's a journey she'll have to take on her own, that she needs to face him doesn't stand in her way.

(I wonder if it kind of hurt, deep down, that he couldn't reach her the way she always reached him. I wonder if he felt upset that he couldn't find the right words like she did for him. But I don't think there were any right words. She needed him to step back. It was her choice to make. So he did.)

And in the end, he was correct that she didn't want to do it. She did choose that based on her own feelings and values.

His assumption Katara not killing the guy = forgiveness is definitely him just kind of applying his assumptions and values, but when she says she doesn't forgive him, he doesn't like, judge her or anything that we can see.

So yeah, quite a few examples! It can feel lopsided because more attention is paid to Aang and Katara's personality affects things.

Katara is both open about her emotions and not. She's someone who will look after other's feelings but not really discuss her own pain with people she cares about, until it all builds up and bursts out.

And it's not surprising she's most concerned about Aang, if my friend had recently (from his perspective) survived a genocide where he lost everyone he loved and was now tasked with saving the world at twelve years old, I'd be pretty worried about him and want to support him too! Aang goes through a lot by virtue of being the protagonist, he has the most pressure on him, he's routinely in the most danger, he literally dies for a few minutes. It's not surprising Katara has more opportunities to comfort him, but he unfailingly supports her in any of her problems of goals (when they're not murder) when he can.

I do think there's some missed opportunities to explore Katara and develop their relationship, but it doesn't make Aang a bad, unsupportive friend, or Katara his Mom and not his peer.

#aang #katara #will i ever stop with the meta posts i dunno why was this so long #avatar the last airbender #meta #atla

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packsvlog · 30 days

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ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ᝰ PINKISH TIP, GIRLY POP⸻ chp8

ᡴꪫ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after a nasty breakup from a long distance relationship, your needs for hookup starts to bundle up more and more, until it’s all you can think about. tired of your unusual and annoying self, your friends decide to have a little fun and stop this nonsense. it’s just a bet, you don’t even have to do it, actually, they just want you to calm down a bit. although you, a quite normal yet weird girl, never backs down from a dare, so you fully believe you can win this one — to hookup with the most amount of guys from your college’s top fraternity. all you need is booze, a party with neon lights and someone saying “doubt it”. as a future journalist, you see it as a top notch article to write.

ᡴꪫ cw: SMUT \\ protected \\ reader and gojo just…idk, they’re having a lot of fun \\ oral (fem!receiving) \\ for jokes reason, reader straightened her hair for the party \\ gojo likes cockwarming \\ they get cock-pussy!drunk \\ crack!chapter as well, reader is daydreaming and funny \\ english is not my native language \\ gojo calls her “baby”

You have no idea what does Gojo’s room look like, even if you had been inside of it for a couple minutes now. You can say with certain that his door is white, and cold. After all, you have been pressed against it, right away. Gojo managed to push you inside and dived for a kiss, as if claiming his prize. He had been searching and waiting for you all night.

He is ── breathtaking.

Gojo is a starved man. His kisses are messy and wet, but nonetheless, they make you close your fists on his shirt and pull him impossibly closer. You want so much more, and he will give all to you. You can’t help but moan when his lips connects into your neck. He sucks it, scrapping his teeth, trying hard to get more and more reactions out of you. And, of course, you comply. You moan more, sighing, pulling his hair.

Gojo halts.

Fuck sake, if he says he is a virgin, you will stop this bet right fucking now!

“Did you fuck someone?” He asks, hot breath against your skin. “You, uh, have a hickey. I didn’t give you.”

“What?” Your mind is screaming at you, get a grip, it says. “Of course you gave me, Gojo, you were feasting on my neck not even a minute ago.” He stares into your eyes, sharp glancing, trying to catch a lie. Slowly, he nods his head and go back to his previous action.

That was too fucking close, and gaslighting serves a good purpose, sometimes. You understand your ex a bit now.

You, thankfully, stop thinking about him, when Satoru ── who you recently discovered his name ── grips your thighs and hoist you up. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and your hands guide his face back to your lips. He is more than pleased to kiss you back, having had his fun with bruising more and more of your neck, subconsciously marking over Ino’s own hickeys.

“You have condoms, right?” You whine against his lips. knowing for a fact that you will cry if he denies. Gojo smirks, pulling you from the door and walking to lay you on the bed. His weight on top of you is easily accepted.

“Yeah, baby, don’t worry about it.” He mumbles an answer, his kisses going back down, this time to your cleavage. “This is a hickey I didn’t made.” You stare down at the small purple imperfect circle on your titties ─ Takuma’s gift.

“Curling iron.” You moan, desperate.

He takes the answer with a shrug, despite your hair being clearly pin straight, thanks to Kirara earlier. You want to laugh at his stupidity, but Gojo, much like you, is fucking out of his mind. You can bet that the only thing he is thinking is the desire to get inside you, right now.

His largue hands cup your breast when his mouth move away, they squish for a bit before he begins to remove your corset. Gojo’s eyes are settled on your naked upper body the moment it is presented to him, as if staring at anything else might be a sin.

“Gojo…please.” You pleaded, calling for his gaze to yours and he cooed at you.

“You poor baby, just wait.” And, seeing no other option, wait is what you do.

Satoru leaves you for a minute to grab something on his drawer, which you smartly assume to be the condom. When he turned back, he was grinning at you, looking like the happiest person in the world.

The thing about wanting sex so much, and not having it, is that the moment you are face to face with the opportunity, you feel virgin all over again. It’s weird, isn’t it? The drop of your guts, the instant fill of butterflies on you ribcage, trying to fly all the way up to your throat. Exhilarating, scandalous.

With Ino, it was just a kiss before it turned into the sex talk, and right away he told you there were no condoms. You didn’t had the time to sprout those cold sighs on your lungs, but now you do.

Something in your face gave away your nervousness, and Satoru once more stop his advances. He looks at you, before settling down on the bed, both arms resting against your body.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t wanna.” He whispers.

“I do,” You cradle his face and he leans into it. “I’m just nervous. It’s been a while.” Your burned cheeks bring light to his eyes, and he press pecks to your lips as if, minutes ago, he wasn’t nearly ripping it off with his sharp teeth.

“It’s okay. I’ll take your nerves away, can I?” At your nod, Satoru, once more, moves down.

This time, he doesn’t stop too long on your boobs, instead he keeps going and going, leaving kisses and marks, until he is faced with your skirt. He eyes you, asking for permission, and when you mumble a desperate yes, he removes your mini skirt in a slow peace.

The fucker is teasing you. In case you haven’t noticed already by his annoying pleased face, having all the fun in the world, even when you yank his hair back.

“Ow! I ── I quite like that, actually.” You giggle and his face lights up again. He thinks you’re adorable.

When your dripping intimacy is facing him, Gojo groans out his own pleasure, just by sight he can get off. One of his fingers, cold, touch your cunt, separating the folds and smearing itself into your release of earlier ── Gojo, though, doesn’t need to know that. For all purposes, you simple are drenched from his kisses alone. Which is not a full lie, at all.

He is entranced by you. One finger turns into two, then three, then a fourth one finds your bundle of nerves right away. You gasp, and moan, and gasp again. As if following his circulatory movements.

“Got you there, baby.” That’s the last thing he says before taking the lead, and drowning himself in your pussy. Removing most fingers, except his overworking thumb.

Gojo’s kisses are of a starving man, as said. His eating is even more. He is desperate, and yet not messy. Of course, the slurping sound, and your wetness is being parade all over the room and your thigh and his face, but it’s all good. Too good, so fucking good.

Your legs close around his head, instinctively, and he moans while nodding. The fuck.

Your ex, ── who you so much wished was not plaguing your mind at this exact moment ── was not against giving head. Is just that, unlike you, he didn’t cared about knowing what to do exactly. The man thought that all was needed was tongue movements and fingering, and you might have felt pleasure, but never came to it. And many others haven’t as well, the male population was lacking in the head department.

Gojo Satoru had absolutely no part in this, whatsoever. He knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. You had no expectations, and he still managed to make you see starts. Unhinged breathing mixed with extraordinary moans, and so many swearing. You were a mess, his mess, to be more precise.

One of Satoru’s hands is holding your thigh, against the side of his face. He even raises you a bit, to have more space to devour. He mumbles against your core, inserts his tongue, he never stop his finger movement on your clit. Gojo is making you crazy! He is, as well.

You whimper under him, arching your back, grabbing his hair with so much strength, and he keeps his movements constant and encouraging you. You bet you could remove his scalp and he wouldn’t move an inch.

You’re coming. Wait ── what? That early? Not possible.

Buckle the fuck up, Gojo Satoru is a master of tongue.

He didn’t even fingered you.

Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

Coming back from your high and confused thoughts, with his head still implanted on your cunt was a beautiful reception. You started to wonder if it would be needed a surgical removal of him from you, when he groaned and raised his upper body. The vision of his handsome face, drenched in your release, had you nearly going off again. And again, and maybe one more for good measure.

He smiles devilish, as if he can read your most impure thoughts. And you smile back, because in all honestly, if he knows he will comply.

Gojo raises from the bed, and removes his jeans. He stares at you as he comes for the condom laying on the bed, but your eyes are entranced by his cock.

Kinji once told you that the name Mu Iota Beta was a hidden message created as a joke by Gojo ── Mommy mIlkers Bitch, because he believed most members had largue pecks (titties). As someone who had been blessed by two cocks of the members, and accidentally seeing a nude on Kirara’s phone, your first thought was definitely that MIB most likely had large everything.

Please, you begged the universe, all big for me.

Pinkish tip, girly pop! Perfectly curved, you could call yourself a mathematician, at this point. That thing was created for you, you knew that. Gojo knew that. He put the condom on himself, but all he could focus on was you. Beautiful, mesmerized, mouth gap, legs open, fingering yourself.

You didn’t even noticed when you started, but stoped right away, growing shy. You really are a slut, and you love it. But you are a timid slut.

“No, no, keep doing that ── just, fuck, just a bit more.” He whimpers, moving closer, hard cock on his hands and he moves up and down slowly. So you follow his lead and goes back to inserting your finger in yourself. With press on nails is hard, but Satoru don’t care about your speed, he just likes the view. “I’m going to fuck you so good.”

“Please, now.”

“So demanding.” He mocks you.

Gojo is pretty fast, for a boy this tall. One moment he was standing apart from you, and now, he is on top of you, again. Holding both of your hands up, with only of of his, while the other goes down to his length. He stares at you, asking for confirmation, and at you “Yes”, he fix himself to slowly get inside you.

Your moans and groans are mixed and drowned by the sound of the party.

“You’re, fuck baby, you’re wrapping me so good.” He praises fall on your deaf ears.

It’s been really fucking long since the last time you got fucked. The memory of the feeling never really goes away, but it’s a whole different aspect to be back to it. Gojo is thick, and long, and he keeps going deeper and deeper, more than you’ve ever had before.

Today is a lucky day for you!

When he stops moving, you frown and groan. Your hips instinctively move, but Gojo let go of your hands to hold it down. He, you think, is a fucking asshole. Satoru is back at sucking your neck, and his own hips are moving very, very fucking slowly. You hate him, and he knows, because he laughs against your skin, after one more of your whining.

“Sorry, baby, but you feel so good like this.”

“You can be stuck inside of me all you want, after you fuck me.”

“Is that a promise?”

You try to answer, but the words filled with sassiness and many swearing get stuck in your throat. In their place comes more moans, the desperate kind that even a hand on your mouth couldn’t muffle it. Gojo picked up his pace, he is giving you exactly what you were begging. That doesn’t mean you are relieved, you are, in fact, going mental.

Your thoughts are spiraling into this new sensation. Getting fucked this deep and this fast is not what you were used to, but you are not complaining, and never will, if this is what’s waiting for you with the others.

Your nails press against Satoru’s back, and his little gasp for air only fuels you to scratch a bit more and more. He, knowing he lost his composure, decides to strike again. Your boobs, bouncing due to his movements, receive extra attention from his salivating mouth.

Gojo and you are fighting for the control of the other. Using the tricks on your (naked) sleeves, playing dirty. It doesn’t matter, because the sensation only keeps growing, to a point where none of this is more important than the other’s body.

You wrap your legs on his waist, and Satoru gets even deeper. He raises himself, grabbing the metal headboard, and using it for his advantage. He is crazy. Mad man, mad thrusts, he is drowning himself in the feeling only your gummy warm walls can provide to his sensitive cock. He feels dizzy, and so do you. But he keeps going, trying to reach the nirvana of those feelings.

“Fuck, fuck ── good, feel so fu-fucking good.” You keep chanting, one hand against your mouth while the other press against his chest. They really are big.

“Yeah?”

“Mm, please, please.”

“What do you want, baby?” Gojo comes back to hold your hips.

You don’t know what you are begging for, and he knows that as well. But is so comically pleasing to have someone getting dumb on your cock, stuffed until you see the budge on their tummy. Eyes rolling back and mouth agape. He knows you are too far gone in the feeling he provides, yet here you stand, begging for more. And who the fuck is Gojo Satoru, if not the man to provide all your demands? You want ── need, more? Have it.

You don’t recall how it happened, because the moment it even began, you saw black points in your eyesight. When your breathing returned to its normality, and your vision cleared, you had one leg on top of Satoru’s shoulders.

And he was, as always, dutifully following his quick pace. Two outcomes could be the end of this new position, either fainting or coming. You wanted to cry, and your body did reacted to this.

“Y’trying to milk me?” Possibly, yes. “Wrapping around me, like that, yeah, just like fucking that.”

Honestly, you barely payed attention to what he was saying. Your focus was on your nerves, how it seemed all of it was being personally affected by Gojo’s aching cock, how your hands were gripping the sheets, and your heart felt like it was burning.

“Argh, I’m ── cum,” You managed to let it slip through your moaned hiccups, and Gojo closed his eyes in concentration.

He pushes your one leg resting on him down, just a bit closer to your chest, and at that you cry out of pleasure. You’re coming on his cock not even a second later, and Gojo just keep moving, thrusting, as if he won’t ever stop. You don’t want him to stop, in fact, you could end this bet and be stuck with him inside of you forever.

Unfortunately, you walls are so tight around him, that you sense his twitching. Gojo gasps and tries to not fail on top of you, when he releases your leg and rests his head on your chest. He keeps coming and coming, until he stops and Satoru is still inside of you.

“Aren’t you going to move?” You wonder, with your shaking fingers caressing his head. Gojo sighs at the feeling, and signs no with his head.

“You said I could be inside you.” Yes, you did.

Gojo reposition both of you, so he is laying down and you on top of him. You both moan at the friction, but he stay still. Having your head resting on his chest, and catching his breathing back. In silence.

Well, except that your thoughts are loud and clear. It’s starting, you think, you’re about to have a fucking great year. With emphasis on fucking.

ᡴꪫ an: well, hello. i don’t think i’ll ever get used to writing smut, but sure as hell, it’s a fucking fun ride! gojo is here, he is not a virgin, and he has condoms, reader keeps winning. so, quick analysis, reader is always talking about her ex, boring, isn’t it? no, wrong answer, we need to understand who this fucker is, what he did, might do, oh, i don’t know. he will be more explained, as the series go on. hihi. honorable mentions to: reader calculating the angle of satoru’s dick, she saying she burned herself with a curling iron, despite her hair being straight for the party, ino’s hickeys, kinji’s nudes, her ex’s small dick, gojo is a king in pussy eating, but you guys haven’t seen nothing. PLS, if you guys have any theories of who is next, who is her ex, anything, comment or send an ask, i love to talk about this series.

🏷️ 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @ducky1232 @mfcherry @minzxec @d3jecteddoll @shuuji71 @emilyywhyy @makeshiftproject @poopooindamouf @ventila98 @faithums @lvingd3adg0rl @starrnai @r0ckst4rjk @lunavelha @catobsessedlady @luvvmae @sjndvi @punkhazardlaw @lemonnotade @luvmeadow @tired-jaz @csxmxx @serenadesvt @ukiyoeangel @satoryaa @madiexuberant

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shuaflix · 1 year

Text

my guardian demon sucks at his job (not clickbait)

❝ look, i accidentally summoned jeonghan from my statistics textbook the day before you met him at the olive garden. ❞

PAIRING ▸ demon!yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, angst, supernatural, demon au

WARNINGS ▸ not so biblically accurate, profanity, slowburn, found family, inspirations from mythology and h. p. lovecraft, lots of banter, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, oral (fem. receiving), fingering, palming, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), mc is painfully horny, ft. demon!shua and demon!wonwoo

SUMMARY ▸ just when you thought your luck couldn't get any worse, you accidentally manage to summon an ancient demon prince named jeonghan out of a scrap of paper from your statistics textbook. now, you're tasked with figuring out how to return your so-called "guardian demon" back to where he came from before he can stir up more trouble.

PLAYLIST ▸ our dawn is hotter than day by seventeen • cruel summer by taylor swift

WORD COUNT ▸ 23,610 words

TAG LIST ▸ @byunfirstlady @90s-belladonna @knucklesdeepmingi @xlovette @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hatesbutlovespeople7734 @goquokka

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i had so much fun writing this so i hope you guys enjoy this one!! thank you so much for supporting my works ♡ lmk what u think!

TO BE FAIR, YOU REALLY DIDN’T EXPECT THE SPELL TO WORK.

You initially thought the scrap of paper you found in your statistics textbook was someone’s torn-up Latin homework. You borrowed the copy from the library earlier in the day, realizing that the only way you would pass your midterm would be if you actually studied. Wedged between the pages of Chapter Three - Linear Regression was the dubious piece of paper.

You thought nothing of it at first. You turned a blind eye to how it was yellowed due to age, thinking it was just left behind by accident. It didn’t even cross your mind about how strange it was that someone left their Latin homework in a statistics textbook.

There was no real reason why you read the words aloud. You thought it could act as some sort of good luck charm—something that could manifest good grades on your exams—but you ended up with the exact opposite.

The paper started glowing, but it wasn’t bright light; a void of pitch darkness emitted from the scrap instead. Mind you, it was nearly the middle of the night. It was already dark, but your room was starting to look like you had opened up a schism in space.

You dropped the paper in the middle of the room instinctively, hissing lightly at how it nearly froze your fingers off. Your room’s temperature dropped by several degrees, and if you weren’t internally freaking out about the random black hole in the middle of your room, you would have curled up in your blankets.

This was one hell of a karmic retribution for slacking on your work for half the semester.

You could hardly see the paper, but you could see faint smoke coming from the middle of the source. It seeped along your bedroom floor, and you contemplated calling your roommate for help before realizing that you, in fact, had no roommate and lived alone.

From there, the paper seemed to crumple up and dissipate into thin air. Instead, a shadowy figure emerged from the smoke. You were not religious by any means, but you felt like this was probably the best time to start praying to whatever higher power was out there.

Light returned to the room once the darkness and smoke faded away. You could now make out the entity’s figure more clearly, noting how it towered over you with sharp horns sticking out from its tuft of hair. Once you could see well enough to make out its face, you were met with what you thought was a human, though the horns and red eyes were throwing you in for a loop.

Humans often had four different psychological responses to traumatic or stressful experiences:

Fight: facing any perceived threat head-on.

Flight: running away from the perceived threat.

Fawn: resorting to appealing to the perceived threat to avoid potential conflict.

Freeze: being unable to move or act against the perceived threat.

Being the absolute weapon of survival you were, your body chose to freeze.

The thing just stared at you until its mouth stretched into a lazy smirk. “Hey, I’m—”

In seconds, your body moved on its own. As soon as you heard the smallest sound come from the being, you grabbed your backpack that was leaning against your bed frame, and you started swinging at the entity with it.

You chose to fight.

You were no longer useless.

“Ow!” the thing winced, shrinking back with each blow. You were slightly worried about breaking your laptop inside, but you were currently prioritizing your life more. “Cut it out!”

You got a better look at this thing. He was clearly attractive with his strong jawline and dark, sleepy eyes—assuming he was even a dude in the first place. You still kept your guard up around Pretty Boy, though, considering he had just Harry Potter’d his way into your bedroom.

“Who—what are you?” you spluttered, holding your backpack up in a (hopefully) threatening way.

“Me?” Pretty Boy grinned. “I’m your demon.”

What in the Wizards of Waverly Place was this man talking about? You stared blankly at the guy before taking a careful step backward. Of course, there were far too many supernatural elements packed into the last minute for you to completely shut down the idea, but it sounded downright crazy. This was something that only happened in books and movies, and they weren’t supposed to be hot!

“A… a demon? From Hell?”

“Yes, that’s usually where demons tend to be from.”

Great, this “demon” was a smart-ass, too.

“What’s a demon?” you asked. It took you a few moments to realize that you had, in fact, asked an extremely stupid question. Of course you knew what a demon was; you didn’t have to be a religious studies major to know about all the Jesus and Satan lore.

“I’m glad you asked,” said demon started, although he didn’t seem to be glad at all. “There are demons that should be summoned, and there are demons that should not be summoned. Can you guess which one I am?”

“Uh…” You deliberated carefully. “You’re a demon that can be summoned.”

“Wrong!” Pretty Boy answered. “I’m a demon that shouldn’t be summoned, so I need you to explain how on Earth you summoned me.”

“I—I thought you said you were my demon.”

“I am,” he said, “because most demons can only be summoned by their designated human, which you did, but I, of all demons, am not meant to be summoned and trapped in this realm! How in Lucifer’s name did you summon me, human?”

You held up a hand to keep him from charging forward at you. “First of all, my name is Y/N. Shouldn’t you be familiar with your own human’s name? Second of all, what do you mean by ‘designated human’?”

Pretty Boy sighed. “I’m supposed to be your assigned demon.”

You frowned. “Supposed to be?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’ve kind of been neglecting you. Totally forgot your name and everything.” He hummed inquisitively. “Remind me of it again?”

“Y/N,” you repeated carefully, slightly offended. “What the hell is an assigned demon?”

“If I tell you,” he started in a somber tone, and you hung onto every word, worrying at your lip and fearing something dreadful would happen, “then it’s no fun.”

He had to be fucking with you.

“No fun?” you questioned. “Are you kidding?”

“I happen to be very serious,” he answered, “and I’m getting the feeling that you’re a bit of a kill-joy, human.”

“Listen,” you spat, “I have a stats midterm tomorrow, so you better start talking before I get back to studying and ignore you.”

“Fine,” he complied. “Think of it, like… a guardian demon.”

“Damn.” You looked up at him with wide eyes. “If I give you my soul, can you help me pass my midterm?”

“That’s not quite how it works, and I may be a demon, but that’s a pretty stupid request in exchange for your soul,” he deadpanned. “Okay, now tell me how you summoned me.”

Your gaze dropped to the spot on the floor where the black void opened up. You recalled the slip of paper disintegrating into thin air once the demon appeared. You were certain that was the key to this bizarre merging of two realms.

“Uh,” you said, “there was a piece of paper with some Latin written on it. You appeared after I read the words out loud.”

And after turning your room into an arctic tundra.

Pretty Boy’s face fell upon your words. You were shocked that the demon looked so crest-fallen all of a sudden, and it was making you feel a bit guilty for dragging him out of Hell.

You decided to ask, “Are you okay?”

“I am not okay, I am Yoon Jeonghan, one of the seven princes of Hell,” he started angrily, causing you to take a cautious step backward. “I am Greed, the creator of alchemy, forger of the Twin Blade, constructor of the—” The demon cut himself off when you held up a fist to your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. “W-what? What’s so funny, human?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly, accidentally letting a giggle slip from your lips, “but there’s no way some pretty face like you is a demon prince.”

“I emerged from an opening in the ground, and you still refuse to believe I’m a demon?”

“Well—”

“Human, do you know why a ‘pretty face’ like me is a demon prince?” Pretty Demon Boy a.k.a Jeonghan inquired, stepping closer until you were backed up against your desk. “The King of all demons himself was once considered the most beautiful of all angels. Why?” With three fingers, he tilted your chin up enough for you to take a good look at him—at the swirling dark red in his eyes. “Because demons represent temptation.”

“Temptation,” you echoed, embarrassed that your voice came out more strangled than intended. “Yeah, well, I’m really tempted to kick your ass back to Hell right now.”

You supposed he was onto something, in a sense. Maybe Jeonghan was telling the truth because you couldn’t focus on anything else but how his lips were nearing yours. It was as if your senses had completely clouded over.

Upon your words, however, he dropped his gaze and pulled away from you. Jeonghan looked saddened, which was a sight you had not expected from the smug-faced demon. You weren’t educated on demon lore or anything, but you were quite surprised that they were capable of feeling such human emotions.

“There are ways demons can be summoned,” he said in a somber voice. “If we are summoned by our names, then we can appear and promptly return to Hell. Incantations, though, are tricky; with negligence, there is a possibility that I’m stuck here.”

“Stuck here?” you asked, raising your voice. “What do you mean? You can’t go back?”

“Well, do you remember the words on that piece of paper?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t have a way of going back, dumbass.”

You huffed. “I didn’t know a demon prince could have the vocabulary of a middle school boy.”

“We can speak any language on this planet and adapt to modern slang,” he explained. “I can also speak dolphin. Wanna hear?”

“No, let’s circle back to getting you back to Hell,” you shut him down before he started using echolocation. “There has to be some other way, right?”

“We have a few options, actually,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. You cringed at the thought of the intruder making himself at home, but you supposed you were the one who got him in this mess, anyway. It wouldn’t be smart for you to boss him around, especially since he could overtake you easily. “Either you remember the incantation, or… actually, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

“So, we only have one option?” you clarified. “I have the memory of a goldfish, so I think you’re fucked.” You scratched your neck in thought. “Can’t you call one of your demon buddies to bring you back?”

“Demon buddies?” He laughed coldly. “We aren’t exactly buddy-buddy down there.”

“Then why do you wanna go back so bad?”

“This materialized human form of mine will not last me very long,” he replied gravely, though you weren’t quite convinced the horns and red eyes were doing him any favors. “Normally, I could be up here for as long as I want, but my powers are weak right now. I will eventually perish like this, unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless I kill an angel.”

After your morbid conversation with Jeonghan, you decided you would deal with the issue after your midterm. The demon insisted that he would not be able to leave your side since you summoned him, so that led to him sleeping on your floor. To your horror, he was pleasantly satisfied with this sleeping arrangement, claiming it was “better than being boiled alive in oil.”

His bedroom in Hell didn’t sound very cozy.

The next morning, you woke to an email notification that your midterm had been canceled. Something about your professor falling sick out of nowhere.

You wanted to rejoice, but you couldn’t help but feel that this was because of Jeonghan. This was probably the whole “guardian demon” thing, but he was causing chaos and disorder to get you what you wanted. It left an uneasy feeling, but, regardless, you were satisfied with not taking an exam.

Anyway, why was Jeonghan, self-proclaimed prince of demons, assigned to be your guardian? When you turned in your bed to see him sitting at your desk and staring at your textbook, you asked him the question that was bugging you.

He scoffed and replied, “I don’t know. Luck?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Is it really lucky that a demon prince was assigned to me? Sounds a little unnerving.”

“That just means you have a powerful demon on your side.” He smirked and leaned in to ask, “Were you happy to see your midterm canceled this morning?”

“So it was you!” you exclaimed. “Look, I appreciate it and everything, but you can’t just make people sick to help me out.”

“I can’t?” He looked surprisingly innocent when you reprimanded him, like a seven-year-old being told not to color on the walls. “I didn’t even murder him or anything.”

“That—that’s also pretty bad,” you stammered. “Let’s not do any of that, okay?”

“But that’s no fun.”

“This isn’t about having fun! These are people’s lives. How would you feel if I harmed one of the other demon princes for fun?”

“That’s hot. I’d probably cum in my pants.”

“Okay, maybe that was a bad example,” you grumbled. “Is there anyone you care about down there?”

“Not down there, not up here,” he replied. “I’m a demon, remember? There’s no one who cares for me, so I don’t care for anyone either.”

“Wow,” you said. “You could be the poster boy for 2012 Tumblr angst.”

“I’ll pretend I understood that, human.”

There was something bothering you, though. Jeonghan’s words last night about killing an angel were parroting in your head. You couldn’t shake off the guilt that he could potentially die on Earth because of you, but it felt immoral to kill an angel to return to his prison in Hell. On the other hand, you couldn’t bear to see him perish because of you.

“How long do you have?” you asked. “You know… to live.”

“Hm… I’d say about 718 years?”

“Oh, what the fuck? You’re chilling.”

“In Hell time.”

You frowned. “How long is that in Earth years?”

Jeonghan’s gaze flew to the ceiling as he tried to calculate the math in his head, using his fingers to count off. “That’s about half an Earth year, so, like, six months.”

“Oh no,” you replied in absolute dread, “and you’re still planning on killing an angel?”

“If that’s the only way to save me—yes.”

“Well, how do you even find one?”

“I can sense their presence,” he said before standing up. “Come on, human. You’ll have to show me around your world so that I can remember the mortal way of life.”

“I guess, but first”—you stopped him by raising your hand—“you’ll have to get rid of those horns.”

Once Jeonghan concealed his horns and changed his eyes to a more socially acceptable color, you gave him the green light to go outside. He looked good like this, but he was attracting too much attention. The demon simply had too big of an ego to tone down the attractiveness, so you were stuck walking around with a chick magnet.

“You’re a demon,” you whispered harshly. “You’re telling me you don’t have any ugly forms?”

Jeonghan sighed. “That is the unfortunate curse of a demon. We can’t help that our beauty is so blinding.”

You wanted to punch him. The boiling oil prison bed wasn’t a curse, but this was?

“Well, people are staring, and it’s making me uncomfortable. I’ve never been the center of attention—or, well, around the center of attention.”

“Then would you like me to gouge out their eyeballs with a dagger?”

“No!” you yelled. “No, there will be no gouging of eyeballs!”

You started going off on your Murder Is Normally Socially Unacceptable And Wrong tangent up until you realized that Jeonghan was no longer next to you. Fear shot up your spine right before you spotted him standing in front of an Olive Garden that you two had walked past earlier.

“Jeonghan, what are you doing?” you asked, frowning. “Let’s keep walking.”

“Human,” he said, clearly ignoring your words, “take me into this restaurant.”

“You’re hungry?” When he nodded, you sighed and complied, saying, “Alright, then, I’ll pay.”

You were worried that the demon wouldn’t behave properly, but, to your surprise, he stood to the side and let you do the talking. You found his shy smile strangely endearing, especially when he tilted his head after the waitress asked if you two were a couple.

“Yes,” he answered before you could shut it down. “We’ve come in a pair.”

You forced a laugh, glancing at the waitress to make sure she didn’t think you two were absolute nutjobs. Well, you supposed it had no effect on you if your psychotic demon was perceived as one, but you were 100% normal across the board. Thankfully, the waitress laughed it off and asked if either of you wanted anything to drink.

You smiled. “Just water, please.”

“Do you have any blood?” Jeonghan asked at the same time.

Your head shot up to see his furrowed brows as he tried to decipher the Italian dishes on the menu. At this point, you were mortified and could positively say that you were not taking Jeonghan outside after this. You’d rather be stuck in his boiling oil prison than be put through this torment.

“B-Bloody Mary?” the waitress asked.

“Oh, is this Mary providing the blood? I don’t really care to know who exactly she is, but I appreciate the—”

“Yeah, he meant a Bloody Mary,” you cut in loudly, putting on a sugary sweet smile for her. You turned to the demon with a warning look in your eyes, but you kept up the playful act as you chided, “Jeonghan! I told you to quit with the pranks here!”

“Oh, you two are so funny,” the waitress gushed. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

“Thank you!” you chirped. When she was out of sight, you dropped your fake smile so you could kick the living crap out of the demon’s shin. He winced and raised a brow at you. “What made you think you could ask for blood at a restaurant?”

Jeonghan scoffed. “I’m a demon.”

“Oh, really? I wouldn’t have guessed from the hundred times you’ve mentioned it.”

“I can’t eat this food.” Jeonghan put the menu down and ran his fingers down the list of options. “Well, I suppose I could stomach it for sustenance, but it won’t satisfy my hunger.”

“Then what do you need to eat?” you asked, expecting to hear something morbid.

“Well, human blood or flesh would help,” he said. Just as you thought—morbid. Then, after a moment of thought, he added, “or… I’d need to have sex.”

“S-sex?!” you exclaimed. You tried not to choke on air, which failed about five seconds later. Never in your life did you expect hellbound demons to be so lecherous. Well, it made perfect sense, but it was still odd to think about. “You’re telling me the only way you can be fed is by cannibalism or sex?”

“Cannibalism is a strong word.”

“Cannibalism is the only word for people who eat other people!”

“I’m not a person,” he defended. “I’m a demon. I believe you humans call this ‘the food cycle,’ am I right?”

You leaned back in your seat to groan into your hands. “I guess we’re just gonna have to find a way to get you back before you get too hungry. How long can you go without food?”

“Probably forever if I was in Hell,” Jeonghan said, “but I feel really hungry.”

“Is this some ulterior motive to get into my pants?”

Jeonghan barked out a laugh. “Human, do you know who the Seven Deadly Sins are?”

“Sort of? I’ve seen the anime.”

“They’re the seven human vices, and I’m Greed,” he explained. “Other than me, there’s Lust, Wrath, Envy, Sloth, Gluttony, and Pride. Many say that Pride is the worst of them all, but I am destructive at every level. Greed is what breaks a person down and then brings them to destroy the world around them.”

His voice was pitched deeper when he continued, “Greed is the sin that can never be satisifed.”

“O-okay,” you said carefully, “so why are you telling me this?”

“I’m telling you this because you’re pretty naive for someone who summoned a demon as powerful as I am,” he replied calmly. “I’m Greed, so of course that was an ulterior motive to get into your pants.”

Oh.

Awkward.

You weren’t sure if you were blushing because Jeonghan was hot or because no man had ever been so direct with you. For what it was worth, you were positive that the warm feeling in your chest wasn’t because you were flattered or anything. Being asked for sex in the middle of a restaurant wasn’t hot in the slightest bit, and especially after he proceeded to mansplain how he was a manipulative, conniving bastard.

“Don’t feel pressured,” he said.

Although those were the words that came out of his mouth, you could feel the impatience seeping from him. However, it had you thinking that this could become some sort of transaction. You would surely feel used if you let him get what he wanted so easily, but you would definitely be swayed if there was something in it for you. Plus, Jeonghan was unmistakably attractive, which was probably simply the devil’s temptation getting to you.

“If I let you satisfy your hunger… um, sexually,” you started, “then I want something in return.”

A mischievous glint flashed in his dark eyes. “Oh? You’re making things fun, human.”

You felt something hot roiling deep inside your core, making you nearly lose your breath for a moment. The effect he had on you was otherworldly. (You supposed this checked out considering he himself was otherworldly.)

Before you could lay down your guidelines, a voice called from behind, “Sorry, your previous waitress had something come up, so I’ll be taking your orders for your meal. My name’s—whoa, Y/N?”

Your eyes widened. “Seokmin! Oh my god, you work here?”

“Yeah, I do,” he said, laughing lightly at your surprise. “Is this your, uh, boyfriend?”

You met Jeonghan’s stare with an awkward smile. “N-no, we’re just friends.”

Seokmin beamed at the demon, who, to your dismay, made no effort to reciprocate. “Nice to meet you. I was in one of Y/N’s classes last semester. Where are you from?”

Jeonghan reached out to shake the hand that Seokmin held out. You knew he was blunt, but you really didn’t expect him to respond by saying, “Hell.”

You were stabbing metaphysical pitchforks into Jeonghan’s side, fighting the urge to groan into your hands. Seokmin let out a stilted laugh, pausing for a moment to give Jeonghan time to clarify. When the demon didn't, however, Seokmin probably determined that Jeonghan was messing with him.

“You’re funny,” he praised with a grin. “Anyway, can I get you two started on anything?”

Seokmin had the brightest smile you had ever seen. In fact, he seemed to glow brighter just by showing his teeth. You were almost blown away for a moment, just looking up at him and trying not to stumble over your words as he set your drinks down.

“Um,” you started after regaining your composure, “I’ll take the stuffed ziti fritta, please.”

Seokmin turned to Jeonghan, who nodded in your direction with a distracted look on his face. “Yeah, I’ll get the same.”

“Great! I’ll bring those over soon.” With that, Seokmin took both of your menus and walked off.

You smiled to yourself. “What a small world.”

“I have to kill him,” Jeonghan muttered at the same time.

“Excuse me?” you nearly cried. “Jeonghan, are you crazy? You can’t just say things like that in public!”

“Why not?”

“People are gonna think you’re a homicidal maniac! Which you are, but… at least pretend to be normal.”

“Whatever, we’re alone now.” He rolled his eyes. “Your little friend has angel blood in him.”

“What? You’re crazy.”

But then, when you took a moment to consider his words, the lines were starting to draw themselves. It was starting to make sense in your head, with Jeonghan randomly stopping in the middle of the street, as if he was drawn to the restaurant. There was also Seokmin, who almost had an aura of light radiating from him.

Of course, there was the possibility that the demon was speaking nonsense and trying to get in your head. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for him to deceive you, but there was no reason for him to lie. Jeonghan needed an angel to live longer, so he wouldn’t waste his time dealing with those who weren’t of use.

You asked, “How can you tell if he’s an angel or not?”

“I’m a demon. I can sense these things,” he answered, “but I’m sure you can see some of it, too. You saw how he glowed a bit? Maybe even made you feel a little happy out of nowhere?”

It was true that Seokmin’s smile made you forget all of your worries for a second. You thought his radiance was just contagious, but this sort of made sense now that you were semi-familiar with the supernatural. If angels were able to make people feel contented, though, did that mean demons had the opposite effect?

That could probably explain why Jeonghan got on your nerves so easily.

You leaned over the table a little, whispering, “Wouldn’t he know what you are, then?”

“Doubt he knows it himself. He’s a Quartarion—quarter angel. I bet he doesn’t even know he has wings.”

“So… you can’t use him, right? You need an angel, and he’s mostly human.”

“No, I could kill him, actually,” he replied. “I just need to kill an angel-blood. In fact, killing a Quartarion instead of a pure-blood would make my job a lot easier.”

You felt trapped. It wasn’t like you were in any position to argue about Jeonghan’s decisions, considering it was your fault he was in this state. However, you felt sick to your stomach over getting blood on your hands because of him. Even if you weren’t the one killing Seokmin, it was indirectly your fault.

“You are not killing him,” you said firmly.

“What?” Jeonghan almost sounded like a child. “Not even a little?”

“You can’t kill someone a little.”

“Well, maybe if I sliced his—”

“Okay! Be normal, be normal, be normal,” you chanted, trying to get him to hone in some morals. “No murder, no cannibalism, no—”

“Two stuffed ziti frittas!” Seokmin chirped, shutting you up effectively. You swallowed thickly as he set the plates down in front of you and Jeonghan. “Can I get you two anything else?”

“Yeah, actually,” Jeonghan spoke up, a sly grin spreading across his face, “are you free this week?”

Poor, poor Seokmin, you thought miserably.

Jeonghan managed to sweet-talk Seokmin into hanging out with you two later in the week. The very idea was absurd, considering you and Seokmin have only spoken about five times. You thought the demon used some sort of demon power to get Seokmin to comply, but Jeonghan later told you that he was just naturally charismatic.

You decided to deal with the Seokmin issue later, though. Now, you had another problem at hand: the proposal you initiated earlier.

Currently, Jeonghan had you pinned up against your door, his head dipping low so that he could look into your eyes despite your efforts to avert your gaze. Jesus, you knew this was a terrible idea, but every nerve in your body was telling you to just go with it.

He hummed. “What was your offer?”

“This isn’t very guardian demon of you,” you squeaked out.

“I just can’t kill you,” he said. “Sex is still on the table.”

This piqued your interest. “Wait… you’re not allowed to kill me?”

That just made you feel like he would’ve murdered you already if he had the chance.

“I could try, but I physically can’t harm you. I can harm others for you, though,” he said. “Now let’s go back to that offer you were going to make.”

“Let me clarify,” he continued, “it’s not the act of intercourse that feeds me, it’s your taste.”

He was basically saying that he needed to eat you out. You would be lying if you said you were opposed to the idea. You weren’t sure if it was the whole devil’s temptation thing or whatever, but you found yourself wanting to just let Jeonghan have his way with you.

You sucked in a sharp breath. Back at the restaurant, you weren’t ready to lay down any guidelines for the exchange. However, it was clear to you now.

“I’ll agree as long as you don’t kill Seokmin.”

The demon pulled away from you, frowning. “Why can’t I kill him?”

“He’s my… friend,” you tried.

“He appears to share a deeper connection with me, a complete stranger, than he does with you, an established acquaintance.”

Okay, ouch. That stung.

“Okay, he’s not really my friend,” you admitted, “but it’ll make me feel really guilty if you kill him. I know you need to kill an angel-blood to get back, but there has to be another way, right?”

Jeonghan’s voice was pitched lower when he said, “I don’t know about that.” Silence hung heavy in the air for a few moments before he spoke up again, “Fine. I’ll accept your offer. I won’t kill Seokmin for now, but I can’t promise that in the future if I’m left with no other choice.”

That was probably the best you were going to get out of him, so you nodded in agreement. “Deal.”

Before the demon could reply, you shimmied down your shorts, kicking them off your ankles, and then you sat back on your bed. You pressed your thighs together, waiting for him to come forward and take the lead.

Jeonghan just stared at you, jaw gone slack.

“What?” you asked with a frown. Slowly, embarrassment started to heat up your cheeks. “You don’t wanna do it anymore?”

“Human, I feel a bit strange doing this with the stuffed animals lined up on your bed.”

“I just had to convince you not to murder my classmate a minute ago, and you draw the line at this?” You sighed in exasperation. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Jeonghan just moved closer until he was right in front of you. He pushed your legs apart, surprisingly gentle, and he reached his hand between your legs so that he could prod at the thin material of your underwear at the apex of your legs. You shivered instantly at his touch, grabbing his sleeve when you felt your core ache for more.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, observing how wet you were getting with his gentle touches. “You seem to enjoy bickering with me a little too much, human.”

“T-that’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” The question sounded genuine, but the smirk on Jeonghan’s face was unmistakable. You swallowed hard as his free hand traveled up your thigh slowly, inching further and further until he tugged your underwear down past your thighs. You kicked it off your ankles while he started to position you properly on your bed. “What’s ridiculous is having these adorable playthings watching us.”

You turned your head to see your Sanrio MyMelody Squishmallow staring at you with its big, empty eyes and mocking smile. It almost felt like you were being judged by your own plushie.

Okay, you were starting to get why it was capable of freaking a demon out.

You propped yourself up on your forearm and rose up enough to grab your Squishmallow by its bow and turn it around. Now that it was facing the wall, you strangely felt more at ease.

“Okay, now you can go,” you said with a grin.

Jeonghan scoffed, amused. “Thanks.”

“You’re wel—oh,” you moaned, pressing a fist to your mouth when you felt Jeonghan’s tongue work its way between your folds. “Give me a warning next time, damn.”

He paused for a moment to look up at you, mischief twinkling in his dark eyes. “You’re already thinking about the next time, huh?”

“Just shut up and keep doing your thing.” When he raised a brow at you, you added a frantic, “Please?”

This moment may have been the first time Jeonghan had complied so quickly. He got to work right away, gripping your hips and licking a stripe along your cunt. You arched your back once you heard him groan at the taste of your arousal, and the demon had to push you back down to make sure you weren’t fidgeting too much.

You turned your head to the side, digging your chin into the mattress as Jeonghan’s tongue rolled around your clit in torturous motions. You were fighting the urge to cry out in pleasure because you knew you would never hear the end of it from him. Eventually, though, the feeling overtook your pride, and you let yourself moan for more.

Jeonghan was insatiable. That probably came with being a demon, especially when he represented the sin of greed.

But, the thing was, you didn’t expect him to be so mind-blowingly good.

Your sounds must have spurred him because Jeonghan gripped your thighs harder and ate you out with more fervor. It was a back-arching level of pleasure, but he forced you down every time you tried to squirm. When his tongue snaked past your folds, flicking against the walls of your cunt, you truly understood the sheer power of temptation.

Jeonghan didn’t neglect one inch of your core, flattening his tongue so he could cover the surface completely. He switched from plunging his tongue into your cunt to licking long stripes along your slit so quickly that your vision was starting to curl at the edges. You felt like you were going crazy when you grinded your hips against his tongue and felt his smirk.

No man had ever made you feel this good—no, you were positive that no man could ever make you feel this good. Even Jeonghan’s nose brushing against your clit made you feel like you were combusting.

He brought you to the edge so quickly, and you wondered if you had even made yourself orgasm so fast before. The sensation left your legs shaking around his neck and your head turned to the side in a desperate attempt to hold back your moans. You managed to let out strangled whimpers that left Jeonghan chuckling once he pulled away.

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but you felt a touch disappointed when you looked up at him. There was absolutely no hint of a boner tenting his pants.

“I’d ask,” Jeonghan started with a smirk, “but I can already tell you liked it by the way you were moaning for me.”

You raised yourself onto your elbows, huffing a little. “What about you? Are your powers back now?”

“It doesn’t exactly work like that.” Jeonghan patted his stomach, satisfied. “I’m full, though.”

“Interesting.” You left it there, not wanting to divulge further into his demon diet. “So, you don’t ever have sex for pleasure? Just when you’re hungry?”

“I don’t care for pleasure all that much.”

“Figured,” you mumbled. “Anyway, I’m going to sleep.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, I’m tired. Wake me up in a few hours if I’m not already up.”

“Sure. I’ll go do human things and not kill people.”

“Keep up the good work.”

When Jeonghan left your room, you pulled the covers up to your chin and let out a long sigh. The feeling was fleeting, but long enough for you to take notice. A gentle quickening of your heartbeat and a warm feeling in your chest.

You pushed it down as a brief moment of confusion.

Living with Jeonghan felt like having a guard dog that you kept off its leash.

Not only did you have to stop him from attempting murder on several occasions, but, on the flip side, you also had to warn him about being too nice to make up for his twisted imagination. Jeonghan was far too attractive to be human, and from the numerous times you went outside with him, you realized that he drew too much attention. You were left standing to the side idly while he was chatted up by the umpteenth random girl that wanted his number.

Over the past week, you ended up explaining a lot of things to the demon. Going into depth about the criminal justice system was your favorite because Jeonghan looked flabbergasted by the levels of punishment they had.

(“A six month sentence for theft?” he asked with a frown. “That’s absurd. I got eternity in Hell while being boiled alive in oil!”

“Well, what was your crime?” you asked.

“Uh…”)

Once, you even found him staring at the TV screen with a somber expression on his face. You had never seen Jeonghan so visibly upset, so you asked him what was going on, only to be even more confused when he explained that his pet died. You suspected the demon’s pet to be a hellhound or something. Never did you expect him to pull up a picture of Mount Fuji.

(“His name was Doljjong,” he explained sadly. “He was only 1,359 years old when he erupted for the last time.”

Apparently, Mount Fuji was now extinct. In Jeonghan’s crazy demon lingo, that meant it died.

“You basically had a pet rock, dude.”

“He was more than a rock in my heart.”)

You also had to adjust to living with another man in the house. Thankfully, Jeonghan wasn’t messy or as disgusting as you had expected, but you still had to adjust to some of his living habits that took you by surprise.

For one, Jeonghan preferred showering in scorching hot water. This would not bother you if you hadn’t been dragged into the shower with him on one occasion, which he didn’t seem to think was improper at all. While you were trying not to look at his (beautifully-chiseled) naked body, he was urging you to help him turn down the cold water. As soon as your skin made contact with the water, though, you couldn’t stand the scalding heat.

Strangely enough, although the thought of having a demon in your house terrified you, it was kind of fun to live with him. You liked having someone around that could keep up with your antics, someone who challenged your thirst for argument. Jeonghan was the perfect match for you, and maybe that was why he was your assigned demon.

You finally decided to give him your old phone. It was supposed to be a hand-me-down for your younger brother, but your parents ended up getting him a new one. Since Jeonghan was pretty much ancient, you figured he wouldn’t mind an old phone.

“I want an iPhone 14 Pro Max.”

“What?!” you exclaimed as he took the used iPhone 8 from you, inspecting the home button with a frown. “How do you even know what that is?”

“I wasn’t born yesterday, human.” He scoffed. “I don’t care for outdated possessions.”

Oh, right. Greed.

“Well, if you’re gonna live in my house, then you’re gonna learn to be grateful for what you’ve got.”

“Wait.” Jeonghan paused, looking between you and the phone about three times before he asked, “Can I contact Seokmin with this?”

“Uh, yeah, but—”

“Give me his number,” the demon insisted.

“Jeonghan! You said you weren’t going to kill him!”

“I never said I was going to kill him,” he said, “but I did invite him to hang out, so I should follow up on the offer. Didn’t you tell me that keeping promises is important?”

Ah, right. He was using one of the rules from Y/N’s Guide To Being Human against you. You saw this coming, though; you were no stranger to Jeonghan’s manipulation tactics by now.

“Keeping promises are important, but leading someone on is also wrong,” you chided. “Do not text him if you plan on hurting him in any way.”

He let out a petulant whine before agreeing, “Okay, okay, I won’t.” He thrusted the phone in your direction. “Give me his number, though.”

You bit your lip before you complied. “Fine.”

A few days later, when you had just gotten back from getting lunch with your best friend, Park Sooyoung, you entered your apartment to see Seokmin sitting on the couch.

“Oh!” you exclaimed. You were so startled that you couldn’t even process how furious you were with Jeonghan for inviting him without informing you. “Hey, Seokmin. What’re you doing here?”

The older boy flashed a kind smile. “Sorry to intrude. Jeonghan invited me. I think he’s in the bathroom right now.” He pointed in the direction of where Jeonghan went, and then he said, “I had no idea you two were roommates!”

You recalled last week when you asked Jeonghan if demons had to use the bathroom like humans did. For some reason, you couldn’t imagine it at all. The demon answered that he didn’t have to do such things in his own dimension, but his body was subjected to the same biological system as humans on Earth.

“Ah, yes. Roommates.” You forced a laugh, trying to not sound bitter. So that was the narrative Jeonghan cooked up. Honestly, you were just glad he said something normal. “He didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

“Ah, speak of the devil,” Seokmin said.

Meanwhile, it was just Jeonghan. Well, on second thought, he was kind of right.

“What’re you doing at home?” the demon asked, sounding more accusatory than welcoming. “I thought you were getting lunch with your friend.”

“And we finished lunch,” you answered. “What’re you and Seokmin doing?”

“We were gonna watch a movie,” he said. “The Notebook, I think?”

Your anger fizzled. Now, you felt like you were interrupting something.

“Do you wanna watch it with us, Y/N?” Seokmin asked, voice all sugary and light.

You found it way too hard to refuse him, so you sat down on the couch next to Jeonghan. Every time Seokmin spoke, you felt your nerves ease up. However, coupled with Jeonghan’s presence, you were undergoing a never-ending state of easing and tensing up again.

“By the way, why’d you guys pick The Notebook?” you inquired.

“Oh, ‘cause Jeonghan hasn’t seen it yet,” Seokmin replied, looking distracted as the film started playing.

Jeonghan hadn’t seen a lot of movies. It wasn’t like there were limited options to choose from.

Thankfully, the lights were off while the movie played, masking how bored you looked for its duration. You were convinced Jeonghan wasn’t enjoying it either considering he started up about ten different conversations unrelated to the movie. Seokmin, being the sweetheart he was, responded to him enthusiastically as he watched. You, on the other hand, were sulking on the other side of the couch and praying for this to be over because you felt like a third wheel.

You almost didn’t notice the mood shift when the kissing scene came up. Seokmin seemed to feel a bit awkward, so he laughed and made lighthearted remarks throughout the scene. You had stiffened up and lowered your gaze, remembering once again why this was an odd choice for a movie night.

Jeonghan, though, turned his gaze to you for the duration of the scene. You could feel his eyes drift to your lips, and it made you hyperconscious of every little movement of his. Your heart was pounding so loudly that you were praying no one else could hear it, and the blood rushing in your ears drowned out the audio from the movie.

The demon dipped his head to whisper in your ear, “Frankly, human, I’m enjoying your reactions more than this movie.”

You had no idea why, but you felt something unsettling in your chest. Your heart felt like it was going a hundred miles a minute, but not in a good way; the organ twisted painfully in your chest.

You had no idea why.

Seokmin came around a few more times over the next four weeks. You found yourself feeling less like a third wheel over time, and you were finally comfortable hanging around the both of them. Movie nights became more common, although The Notebook seemed to be so traumatizing that Seokmin and Jeonghan only watched horror and sci-fi movies now.

You were honestly surprised that Jeonghan hadn’t made any moves to kill Seokmin, but you were happy that he honored your agreement. The two of you had gotten closer—or, well, as close as a demon and a human could get. He still called you “human,” but you were banking on him calling you by your name at least once. Moreover, Jeonghan wasn’t completely convincing just yet, but he was starting to learn how to act like a proper human. (There were the occasional murder threats that you had to fend off, though.)

Jeonghan found himself between your legs nearly every other day. You feared that you would get too comfortable, but he still made you orgasm every single time. It was strange, to say the least. You knew demons weren’t capable of feeling anything remotely romantic, but your heart was still acting like a fool, twisting painfully whenever he pulled away.

Today, Jeonghan had followed you to the library. He met your friend, Sooyoung, who kept gushing earlier about how she was dying to meet your new “friend.” The rest of the day went smoothly, save for Sooyoung asking you and Jeonghan if you’ve ever made out. (You shut her up with a smack upside her head.)

Back at home, Jeonghan, who was sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, leaned his head back to look up at you. You found it strangely endearing, resisting the urge to run your hands through his soft hair.

“Did I do good today?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said, “you were like a proper human—no weird demonic antics or anything.”

Jeonghan lifted his head up again, and then asked in a quiet voice, “Human, could I perhaps try something?”

The demon was asking you for permission? Strange, but you went along with it.

“Hm? What is it?”

“Let me try kissing you,” he said. His words were so clear that you couldn’t even pass them off as something you misheard. You only managed to let out a few incoherent stammers before he added, “Move your laptop. I’m getting on top of you.”

“Y-you didn’t even ask me!” you stuttered, although you were putting your stuff to the side as you spoke. “Is this about what Sooyoung asked? About if we’ve made out?”

“I’m asking you right now: yes or no?”

You frowned. It was as if all your nerves were cut wire, electrifying every limb in your body. Even though you couldn’t comprehend what came over Jeonghan and what possessed him to ask, your brain was screaming at you to just accept his offer.

“Fine, go ahead,” you murmured, feeling your face go hot when he smirked right after.

“Good,” he said. “Thank you for being my experiment.”

You couldn’t ask any further questions because Jeonghan already started moving on top of you, straddling your lap and placing his hands firmly on either side of your face. You stared up at him, wide-eyed, until he leaned down and brushed his nose against yours experimentally.

He was so close. So close that you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips. So close that you could see the gold flecks in his dark eyes.

You shuddered. There was that twist of your heart once again.

You swore you could hear his breath hitch, and you almost called it out before a crevice started opening up in the center of your living room.

“What the fuck?” you shrieked, scrambling back against the arm of the couch and holding up one of the throw pillows to defend yourself. Jeonghan had gotten off of you and stood up, eyebrows knitted into a frown. It looked like he knew what was going on, so you asked, “What is it, Jeonghan?”

It was the same void of darkness from before—the same one that Jeonghan came from. The room was freezing this time, too, and the windows had iced over. You swallowed hard, wondering if this was one of your mistakes again. You hadn’t said or done anything this time, though, so it must have been someone here for Jeonghan.

From the wisps of smoke emerged the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Or, well, second after Jeonghan.

“Mammon, you bastard.” Second-Most Beautiful Man scowled. “If this is one of your conniving plots to escape Hell, then you will face punishment worse than being boiled alive for damnation.”

You looked to your right to see Jeonghan with his arms folded across his chest. Smiling.

“Asmodeus,” your demon greeted with coldness in his tone, “you planted that scrap of paper in my human’s book, didn’t you?”

Asmodeus’ glower slowly morphed into a wicked grin. “You don’t leave any room for entertainment, do you? I came here to drag you back, anyway, so don’t be so bitter.” His red, beady eyes shifted to you. “This must be your precious human.”

Jeonghan’s voice was deeper when he warned, “Don’t you dare lay a finger on her, Asmodeus.”

“Or what?” he mocked. “What could you possibly do to me in that pathetic human body of yours? Have you gone soft already? Your powers have weakened, Mammon. Face it. You’ll die out here—no, you’re already dying.”

“What do you want?” Jeonghan snapped. “If you want me dead, then you have no need to be here.”

“I need you alive,” Asmodeus muttered, “in your true form.”

He scoffed. “I’ll just die and be reborn.”

Reborn? You straightened up at Jeonghan’s words. Why didn’t he tell you he would be reborn? Here you were, like an idiot, worrying over his possible death.

“The other five princes are requesting to see you, so—”

“Oh, why should I give a damn about the other princes?” Jeognhan fussed. “They only care about using me for their trivial schemes!”

“Jeonghan,” you spoke up loudly, and both of the demon princes turned to you with shocked looks on their faces. “If I’m interpreting this correctly… then aren’t you being offered an easy way to get back? You should take it, right?”

“Human—”

“Oh, I forgot you go by your human name here,” Asmodeus said with a chuckle. He walked toward you and reached his hand out, smiling so wide that his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. You can call me Joshua, if that’s easier. I’m the demon prince of lust.”

“How do you know my name?” you asked, cautiously shaking his hand. You looked toward Jeonghan with a scowl. “Wait, how does he know my name and you didn’t?”

“My bad.”

“You’ve truly gone soft, Mammon,” Asmodeus observed. “You’re on Earth entertaining a human girl instead of doing your job back in Hell. Aren’t you the one who told the rest of us to be happy with what we’ve got in Hell?”

“My job,” Jeonghan corrected, “is rotting in Hell. My other job is taking care of my human.”

“Your allegiance is with the princes, Mammon,” Joshua hissed. “This human is insignificant—”

“Do not speak about my human with that filthy mouth of yours, Asmodeus,” Jeonghan interrupted sharply, his eyes darkening. “Tell me what you want from me and leave this place at once.”

“Pythius wants a seat with the Seven Princes.”

Jeonghan raised a brow. “He wants to rebrand to the Eight Princes? Doesn’t have as nice of a ring to it.”

“No, you idiot.” Joshua groaned. “He wants to overthrow one of the Seven Princes, which is why you need to come back. Greed must have a seat at the throne room of sins.”

“Tell him to go ahead. He can be boiled alive in my place.”

“You’re still on that? That was eons ago.” Joshua sighed. “Don’t be a fool, Mammon. If you die on Earth—sure, you’ll be reborn in Hell again, but you will still waste your time by dying on this planet.” He continued, “Think about how disastrous the situation would be if Pythius actually takes your place. You will be stripped of your title, your powers will weaken, and greed will no longer be one of the Seven Deadly Sins.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad, honestly.”

“Mammon,” Joshua growled. “Take this seriously. You’re acting like Belphegor with that flippant attitude of yours.”

“Ah, Belphegor.” Jeonghan turned to you with a light laugh. “I think you’d like him. He goes by Wonwoo here. Seriously, such a—”

“I will slice up each limb of that mortal body of yours, Mammon,” Joshua warned. “You’re not understanding the severity of this situation.”

“I understand it well enough now,” he replied. “So, you can leave. I’ll figure out what to do on my own. Either way, Mammon will be reborn as usual. Happy? Good, now get lost.”

Joshua sighed, frustrated. “Do you even have a way to get back, you fool?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“Then I’ll be on my way,” Joshua said before his body started to tessellate out of existence, vanishing piece-by-piece into thin air. “I really hope you know what you’re doing, Mammon.”

You were the first to break the silence once the demon of lust disappeared, asking, “You’ll be reborn? So you never even had to worry about dying?”

“Demons can be killed, but they can’t die.”

“Oh, yeah, thanks. Really cleared things up for me with that.”

“Let’s just drop it.”

You couldn’t just drop it, though. “You weren’t actually imprisoned in Hell, were you?”

“I was. Sort of.” He paused. “Haven’t been for a while, to be honest.”

“Then why didn’t you go with Joshua? It doesn’t sound like he wants you back to throw you back in the lake.”

“I don’t want to be a pawn in their silly games anymore,” Jeonghan muttered darkly. “It’s infuriating.”

“Then what are you gonna do? That was the easiest way for you to get back!”

“I have time, human.” Jeonghan didn’t seem to want to be pressed further, so you backed off. “Don’t worry about me.”

He walked into your room and slammed the door shut, so you settled back into the couch and hugged the throw pillow to your chest. How could you not worry? You couldn’t understand Jeonghan at all, and although you wanted to respect his decision not to go back with Joshua, you were at a crossroads; staying here was killing him. He had far too much pride to think rationally.

Plus, the longer he stayed with you, the more it stung when you realized time was running out. Fast.

The next day, Jeonghan appeared as if he was back to normal. It was odd, though, given how he was brooding yesterday. You made a conscious effort not to mention Joshua, but you knew the topic was still weighing heavy on his shoulders.

(He was insatiable once you were awake and sitting up in bed, prying your legs open and begging you for a taste. Although you had several questions for the demon, your carnal desire overtook whatever curiosity you had.

“Feeling better?” you asked cautiously.

“I’ll feel better soon. Anyway, good morning,” he purred. “You’re dripping already, human. I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Your chest felt hot. “Yeah, yeah, just get to it.”

“My pleasure.”)

“Hey,” you called out later during breakfast. “I’m going out with Sooyoung tonight. Are you gonna be okay being alone at home?”

“Where are you going?” he asked instead.

You paused between your spoonfuls of cereal. “Uh, just a party.”

“I love parties,” Jeonghan said. “Will there be human sacrifices?”

You grimaced. Although your guardian demon was making impressive improvements on his transition to human life, there were still some flaws in his way of thinking. On the bright side, though, he made sure to pass his morbid comments by you before he tried them out in front of others.

“No, it’s a college party,” you replied. “The most deadly thing there will be alcohol and Old Spice.”

“Boring,” he mused before getting up from his seat and heading to the living room. “Well, be safe.”

You nearly choked on your cereal, completely forgetting to respond to his words. Did Jeonghan—Mammon, manifestation of greed, one of the Seven Princes of Hell—just tell you to be safe? You had to be hearing things.

Or, your heart offered, maybe some part of him cares about you—deep, deep down.

You pushed down the thought entirely, forcing yourself to think of other alternatives. After all, there was no possible way for a demon to feel those sorts of emotions.

It was almost midnight and Sooyoung was passed out on the couch.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” you said in dismay. “We literally just got here.”

“That’s tough,” Kim Mingyu, president of Sigma Omega Nu, replied sympathetically. “At least her boyfriend’s here to take care of her. That means you need to drink more and get on her level.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Hey, that’s what college is for.”

You whined when Mingyu handed you a new cup of jungle juice. Normally, you didn’t accept drinks from strangers; Mingyu was harmless, though, and you two were well-established friends for a few years now. However, you were on your third cup of juice by now, and, if you kept it up, you were probably going to end up like Sooyoung. Since she was the one who drove you two here, though, you had to stay sober enough to find a ride home. No matter what happened, you were determined to not fall asleep on the musty frat house couch.

(It already happened once last year. You woke up the next morning to Kwon Soonyoung yelling, “Someone take a picture of Y/N sleeping on the couch I got laid on!”)

“I can’t get drunk,” you insisted. “I have to get home.” To make sure my pet demon is behaving, you wanted to add.

Mingyu let out a snicker. “Call someone to pick you up or I can ask one of the sober monitors to drop you off.”

You pondered for a moment. Technically, you could call Jeonghan. Now that he had gotten the hang of using his phone, you saw him texting Seokmin every once in a while. You were sure he would be able to pick up a call, as well.

“Fine, whatever. Hand it over.” You took the red solo cup from him and downed its contents—just under ten seconds, counted by Mingyu himself. “I’m gonna go call my friend before this starts hitting me.”

You walked out into the backyard where the music wasn’t as loud. The cool air hitting your flushed skin made you feel like you could breathe properly again, but you still weren’t walking nearly straight enough. With careful hands, you searched up Jeonghan’s number in your contacts.

Your phone rang three times before he picked up.

“Human? Are you dead?”

You frowned. “If I was dead, how would I be calling you?”

“I was hoping I could keep your soul around as my pet in Hell,” he said.

You must have had some sort of degradation kink by this point because that comment was not supposed to make you feel butterflies in your stomach. It was time for you to consider therapy.

You cut straight to the point. “Can you come to the party?”

“What? No.”

His refusal normally would’ve stung, but you were too tipsy to back down now. “Please? Sooyoung already passed out and her boyfriend’s taking care of her. I’m getting drunk all by myself now.”

Sort of an exaggeration. You were going to use every card up your sleeve.

“Then walk home.”

“I can’t. Home’s too far to walk.”

“Then sleep over at whoever’s house you’re at.”

“It’s a house full of frat boys. Their living conditions are probably worse than yours down in Hell.”

“Then sober up.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be my guardian demon?!”

“If you want an angel to come rescue you, I would try Seokmin’s number.”

You let out a groan and crouched down, letting your head hang between your knees. This was fruitless; Jeonghan was stubborn as a mule, and you were getting nowhere with this conversation.

But this wasn’t just about getting someone to take you home. You certainly had other options, so you could hang up on Jeonghan right now and find someone else to drive you back. However, you just didn’t want to admit out loud that you wanted to see Jeonghan. You wanted him to come over and take care of you, even though that was impossible for the demon.

You were just foolish.

“Fine, Jeonghan,” you snapped. Your head started to feel fuzzy, and you were quickly losing control over your own tongue. “I’ll get home all by myself. I’ll walk home in the cold, dark night, and hell, I’ll even walk on the road if I feel like it. Maybe I’ll lay down and take a nap if I get really tired, and if I can’t even make it to the door, I’ll just sleep in Mingyu’s bed—” You didn’t realize you were pacing until you hit a solid surface. “Ow—wait, what the hell?”

Jeonghan, in the flesh, sighed heavily and hung up the call in front of you. “Human, you’re really such a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“H-how’d you get here?” you asked, your cheeks starting to feel hot. “Did you teleport or whatever again? Didn’t you say that eats up your power? Are you—”

The demon clamped a hand over your mouth. “I materialized here, and yes, it eats up the little power I have left,” he whispered harshly, “but you wouldn’t stop running your mouth, so here I am. How could you get intoxicated so easily?”

“Well… I’ve been here for about an hour,” you defended. “It doesn’t take that much for me to get drunk. I’m pretty lightweight.”

“How much did you have?”

“Like, three cups of jungle juice.”

“Jungle… juice?”

You snorted. “This one’s got vodka, rum, and fruit punch. It’s pretty good.”

“Three cups?” Jeonghan asked with a scoff. “I forget that humans have such weak tolerances for alcohol. I can drink eight bottles of wine without getting drunk.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenged. You dragged the demon inside the frat house, not giving him the chance to take in and process his surroundings. You poured him a cup of jungle juice in the kitchen and handed it to him. “Drink up, then.”

Jeonghan raised a brow at you before chugging down the liquid like water. He handed it back to you with a light smirk playing on his lips.

“Are you sure there’s even alcohol in this concoction?” he asked, barking out a laugh. “Human, you’re too cute. This is nothing for a powerful demon like…” he trailed off, looking down at his feet and letting out a soft exhale. “My chest feels hot.”

Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, stopping yourself from bursting out into laughter. This sight was absolutely priceless. You didn’t think you would ever be able to see Jeonghan so vulnerable.

“Are you drunk off one cup of jungle juice?” you asked, and, at this point, you weren’t able to stifle your laughter. “Oh my god!”

“Shut up, human,” he grumbled. He blinked a few times and held onto the edge of the counter. “I’ve never felt this way before. My body isn’t used to having a human’s biological system.”

“Whoa, this guy is fucked,” Lee Chan retorted, showing up out of nowhere. “He’s talking like something out of I, Robot.”

You rolled your eyes at his pop culture reference, but Jeonghan didn’t seem to follow at all. For all the movies he and Seokmin had been watching, you were surprised that they didn’t get around to this one.

“Robot,” Jeonghan mumbled, moving to lean against you. You grabbed his arm and tried to hold him steady, but he just wrapped his arms around you and let his head rest on your shoulder. “I feel like I’ve just been expelled into the Outerverse with Yog-Sothoth. Ah, fuck, those guys owe me…”

You had to get Jeonghan out of here fast. Before he started speaking crazy demon lingo again.

“Are you sober monitoring tonight?” you asked Chan. “You think you could drive us home?”

“Yeah, sure,” Chan agreed with a smile. Gauging that Jeonghan wasn’t responsive enough to answer any questions, the frat boy decided to ask you, “Did you bring a friend from another school, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you mumbled. “This is Jeonghan.”

Chan ducked his head to get a good look at Jeonghan’s face. “Nice to meet you, Jeonghan.”

“Hi, Robot.”

“No, my name’s not Robot.”

Jeonghan’s biggest weakness wound up being seatbelts.

You and Chan had to fight him down to get him to sit down properly in the back seat. Since he was fussing too much, you decided to sit with Chan up front, letting Jeonghan moan and grumble incoherently in the back.

(“Unchain me, human,” the demon kept whining. “I refuse to be imprisoned in the mortal realm.”

When he was stopped at a red light, Chan threw a glance over his shoulder before telling you, “I think your friend watches too much anime.”

“He’s going through a phase,” you lied.)

While you made light conversation with the frat brother, you felt like your guardian demon was glaring daggers at the poor boy. You wanted to smack him upside the head for his rudeness despite Chan’s generous act.

You craned your neck to look back at Jeonghan, shooting him a warning look. He simply scoffed and looked the other way, although he ended up resting his head against the window once he realized his world was still spinning.

“Come on, Jeonghan,” you murmured once Chan parked the car in front of your place. “Get up.”

“Don’t wanna.”

You tugged the sleeve of his shirt impatiently. “What? Why?”

“Not going back with someone who ignores me.”

Your jaw nearly went slack. Was he jealous? Yoon Jeonghan, Prince of Greed, was jealous over frat boy Lee Chan? Over something so miniscule as you sitting in the passenger’s seat? This was definitely something you were going to hold over the demon’s head for as long as you could.

“I’m not ignoring you, okay?” you tried. “Come back home with me, and you’ll have my full attention.”

Jeonghan hesitated before he let out a begrudged grumble. “Fine.”

You and Chan hauled the drunken demon to his feet, taking one of his arms and throwing it over your shoulders so that you could help him walk. Chan assisted you by slinging Jeonghan’s other arm over his shoulder, but you still found it hard to walk properly with Jeonghan’s head lolling to the side. His face was so close that you could feel his hot breath against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“You smell so good, human,” he murmured. Jesus, he was saying all this while Chan was still here? You were glad that Jeonghan couldn’t tell how flustered you were, but it was probably evident to Chan. “What perfume is that?”

“This guy sure does call you ‘human’ a lot,” Chan observed with a light laugh.

“Uh, yeah, inside joke,” you explained quickly. “Let’s just get him to the couch.”

Once you and Chan let Jeonghan’s heavy body drop onto the couch, you walked the frat boy to the door. He stuffed his hands deep in his pockets, a shy smile playing on his lips. He looked at you expectantly, like he was waiting for a tip or something. You were considering handing him the crumpled-up five dollars you left in your back pocket.

“We should hang out sometime, Y/N,” he started. “I feel like I barely see you around the house anymore.”

“Oh, yeah, I haven’t been in a partying mood lately,” you explained, “but I’ll try to drop by more.”

“Alright. I’ll see you around.”

Before you could respond, a voice from behind you loudly interjected, “Bye.” With that, Jeonghan slammed the door shut with one hand.

“That was rude,” you said.

“Can I gut him like a fish?”

“That’s even more rude. Please don’t.”

“Whatever.”

You looked back at Jeonghan, who had one hand against the door that was right beside your head. “What’s your deal? He was nice enough to drive you back and help you to the couch.”

“Why do you keep ignoring me?” he asked, proceeding to ignore you at the same time.

“I-I’m not ignoring you!” you stammered. “I’m the one who helped you get back to the apartment!”

He had you backed up against the door, looking up at him with worry knitting your brows together. Jeonghan let his head drop to lay on your shoulder, leaving you frozen in place. You figured it was the alcohol rushing to his head, but you couldn’t help the fact that your heart was pounding in your chest.

“Human,” he mumbled against your collarbone, “why can’t you just stay by my side?”

“Huh? But—”

“I wanna be human, too.”

The words sounded strange coming from him. Almost like he was at his tipping point. Tender. Raw. Vulnerable. You were absolutely dumbfounded by what you had just heard. With no coherent response coming to mind, all you could do was raise your hand to gently thread through his soft strands of hair.

“Let’s get you to bed,” you replied softly, letting the demon stay in your embrace as you walked him back to your bedroom. He looked up at you quizzically when you sat him down on the edge of your bed. “It’s about time you stopped sleeping on the floor. I’ll take the couch, so—”

You cut yourself off when Jeonghan wrapped his arms around your legs and pressed his lips to your thighs. “Stay here with me.”

You stared ahead, straight at the wall, a dull ache throbbing in your chest. “What are you doing, Jeonghan?”

“What?”

“Why are you doing this to me?” you asked. “You only have months left to live. You should’ve just gone back with Joshua.”

He stiffened. “I didn’t want to.”

“Yeah, I guess you’ll just be reborn, anyway,” you muttered. “You never had anything to worry about to begin with.”

Jeonghan suddenly pulled away from you, his eyes cold as ice. Since he was always docile around you, there was never any reason for you to feel scared around the demon. However, the look he was giving you left you backing up slowly from him.

“I’d rather stay dead than be reborn,” Jeonghan said, “and I wouldn’t feel so agonized about it if I didn’t have to meet you.”

Tears pricked your eyes. You felt a lump rising in your throat, and you felt the hot, salty tears hitting your feet before you even realized you had started to cry. It took all of your willpower to keep the waterworks at bay. The demon’s cruel words were never supposed to get under your skin this bad. You held him at arm’s length for that very reason.

Maybe, all this time, you had been pulling him closer unintentionally.

“You think nothing hurts for me just because I’m a demon,” he continued, “but it stings every time you try to chase me away.”

“I’m not trying to chase you away.”

“Then why do you keep pushing me to go back to Hell?” he asked. You couldn’t exactly read his expression, but it was clear that Jeonghan felt tormented. The pain in his eyes was telling of that. “Why did you want me to go back with Asmodeus?”

You huffed. “I really don’t understand you. You don’t want to die and be reborn, but you don’t want to go to Hell either? Aren’t you going to die if you stay here?”

“You don’t get it.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to be reborn because I lose all my memories of the mortal world. I lose all my memories of you.”

“And you don’t want to go to Hell because…”

“The only reason you summoned me was because of Asmo—I mean, Joshua’s—need for pointless entertainment. Surely, with what’s been going down in Hell ever since I left, they won’t let me leave again until Pythius is quelled. That could take hundreds or thousands of years.” Jeonghan scoffed, shaking his head. “Pythius… one of the most fearsome and hideous demons. There’s no telling what he’d do for a seat with the Seven Princes.”

“I’m sure if I go back, he would try to kill me over and over again,” he continued, “because he detests me the most. That group of them—the Malebranche—they might be more sadistic than Lucifer himself.”

You frowned. “What’d you do to him?”

“Why do you assume I did something to him?” Jeonghan scowled.

“Because you’re the demon prince of greed,” you replied. “I’m sure you pissed him off somehow.”

He snorted. “Pythius rules the eighth circle where frauds are punished. He hates nothing more than the greed that consumes those humans. Of course he’d loathe the demon that represents the very sin.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you act that greedy here, though. Are you different when you’re down there?”

The dark glint in Jeonghan’s eyes nearly went undetected. You only managed to catch it because of the way his smile dropped in tune. His normally easygoing expression was replaced with the same serious look he wore when Joshua was around.

“I haven’t been this greedy in eons, human.”

You tried to think back to when Jeonghan had acted in such a way. Sure, there were the multiple times he gave you (mind-blowing) head and the time he asked you for the newest iPhone, but those didn’t seem as drastic to you. You expected the very demon of greed to be more selfish.

“Really?” You forced out a stilted laugh. “I think you’re about as greedy as a toddler, like, in a bratty way, but that’s it.”

Jeonghan stood up.

You took notice of his broad shoulders before, but now you felt swamped under his gaze. He towered over you with ease, looking down at you with a storm brewing in his eyes. There were no words exchanged at first, but one look at the demon told you that whatever he was experiencing was far too human for him to understand fully.

“I’m so greedy that I would let the hierarchy in Hell fall to shambles because of you,” he started. “I would abandon my seat and let Pythius take control just so I can stay here with you. I would rather wither away on Earth instead of going back to Hell where I can’t see you again. I would let Alastor, the chief executioner, torture me over and over again until the ache in my heart finally goes away—the ache you caused.”

His next words were no louder than a weak whisper when he grabbed your forearms and said, “I’m so greedy that I wanna just give up everything for you, Y/N.”

With that, Jeonghan muttered something about sleeping on the couch before he walked out of your room and shut the door. That was the first time he had ever called you by your name; yet, it didn’t even make you feel happy. The first salty tear hit the floorboards, then the next, then more. You could only watch the demon leave in silence, finally letting yourself cry once he was out of sight.

Crying because you didn’t want him to leave. Crying because your feelings were already running too deep.

Crying because you knew a botched confession when you heard one.

Just as you were about to settle in bed, burrow yourself in the sheets and sob until you fell asleep, you heard Jeonghan’s footsteps coming back from the living room. You had no time to regain your composure when he flung open the door, his eyes stony and his lips pulled down in a frown.

“I can’t sleep if you’re crying like this,” he murmured, walking over to cup your face with his large hands. “That’s foul play.”

He kissed you.

The motion was swift—a gentle grab of your jaw and tilt of your chin, and Jeonghan was kissing away your disquiet with surprising tenderness.

Temptation.

Temptation was the utmost desire that demons could draw from mortals, but you weren’t quite sure this was it. Jeonghan’s kiss felt different—more intimate. His lips moved against yours with hesitance at first, and he only deepened it once you reciprocated. It felt like he wasn’t trying to pull you closer; rather, he was waiting for you to find him.

Once you two were lost in desperate kisses and heavy breaths, Jeonghan jerked away with a light gasp. You stared at him, dazed, before he grabbed your wrist and pressed your hand firmly against his chest. At first, you weren’t quite sure what he was having you do, but the realization was a slap in the face.

A heartbeat.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

It was fast, like he had just run a marathon. You looked up at the demon quizzically, but he was already pulling away. Your hand hung in the air before dropping to your side, registering too late that he had already let go.

“You think nothing hurts me,” he mumbled. This time, he had his own hand flat against his chest. “I torture myself every day like this because I know, deep down, there’s no happy ending for us.” The demon’s eyes, normally masked with golden brown irises, glowed a dim red.

It started drizzling outside. Soft pattering of rain that drowned out the silence.

Everything would fall apart—slowly, gently, inevitably. Jeonghan, too, would eventually become nothing but a ghost of a raindrop that once streaked your window.

Post-party hangovers always called for breakfast at The Veranda. It became a tradition between you and Sooyoung to go there after a night of partying. That, or you two would skip straight to lunch and get pho. There was no telling when either of you would wake up the next morning.

Today, however, Sooyoung texted you early enough.

“We should get cocktails,” she suggested while looking down the menu.

“You already blacked out last night, you crazy bitch.”

To be frank, you had ulterior motives for this outing. For one, you wanted to get out of the house because the tension between you and Jeonghan was making you suffocate. The other reason was because you wanted to consult Sooyoung with your problems.

You started with, “So, there’s this guy,” and your best friend was already at the edge of her seat. Once you finished giving her the rundown (which only concluded after you ordered your food and were halfway done with your herb roasted chicken sandwich), Sooyoung paused to think, which stretched into about five minutes. More than enough time for you to finish your sandwich.

“I don’t get what the problem is,” Sooyoung finally said, tilting her head curiously. “If you two like each other, then just ask him out.”

If only it were that easy, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t spare her the details of how impossible the situation was. You weren’t in the mood to hear “if he wanted to, he would” when you were dealing with a guardian demon who was literally dying in the mortal world.

You hesitated. “Let’s just say that he’s not exactly available right now.”

“He has a girlfriend?” Sooyoung asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. She looked ready to start telling you off for being a homewrecker, so you had to clarify immediately.

“No, no, he’s single,” you said. “He’s just not… emotionally available to date.”

“So, he’s been getting all close to you without wanting to date you.”

“Uh, not really? He’s just—”

“Cut him off, Y/N.”

“What?” you asked, eyes widening. You figured the situation sounded bad from an outsider’s perspective, but there was no way for you to break it down without explaining that Jeonghan’s your guardian demon from Hell that ended up being trapped on Earth because of your statistics midterm and demonic intervention from Joshua, the other oddball from Hell. “I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can,” Sooyoung replied. “It’ll hurt at first, but you’ll get over it eventually.”

“But he’s…” you trailed off, wondering how the fuck you were going to defend a demon prince of greed. You settled with saying, “He’s funny.”

“So are clowns, Y/N. You don’t see me asking out Ronald McDonald.”

“Okay, it’s not that simple, Sooyoung!” you cried out. “It’s more like… he doesn’t have that much time left here.”

“Oh.” She sounded lost at first, but the confused look on her face was slowly replaced with somber understanding. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“No, you’re good. I didn’t know how to say it.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” she said, “why don’t you just make the most of the time you have left with him?”

Sooyoung’s words hadn’t left your mind ever since breakfast. Even after she dropped you off at your apartment, you were still replaying the conversation in your head.

You thought about it in the shower.

You thought about it while doing your homework.

And you continued to think about it when Jeonghan was spreading your legs apart later that day.

“Didn’t we just fight?” you asked, your voice unnaturally high. Despite your words, you came to realize that you were sort of feral when it came to your sex life. A little fight was just a chip on your shoulder.

“That was a fight?” Jeonghan asked. “I’ve been in fights before. They’re pretty gruesome. Usually some heads roll or someone gets disemboweled.”

“A verbal fight,” you clarified.

“I’ve been in verbal fights before, too. They usually end with someone getting stabbed.”

“Okay, well, that’s not a verbal fight.” You sighed. “I mean, aren’t you upset with me? You were acting like being around me was hurting you.”

Jeonghan looked down and went completely silent.

“Hello?” you called. Did you break him?

Jeonghan looked back up. This time, his cheeks were tinged scarlet red. Your eyes went wide at the sight of the demon fully blushing over your words. You were definitely adding this bullet point to the Blackmail on Jeonghan folder you kept in your Notes app.

“I let my emotions get the best of me, okay?” he mumbled. “Let's just drop it.”

You, however, were brimming with questions. “Hey, but you let me feel your heartbeat last night,” you started. “Did you always have a heart?”

Jeonghan pulled away to look at you with distaste dawning on his face. “Did I always have a heart? Of course I’ve always had a heart, human. How would I be giving you the head of your life if I was a corpse?”

Your demon was gradually evolving to develop a filthy mouth. You weren’t sure if this was improvement or regression.

“You have a human heart and you can feel human emotions,” you said. “What makes you and I so different, then?”

Jeonghan opened his mouth, but before he could speak, there was a knock at the door. You glanced at Jeonghan suspiciously, wondering if he invited Seokmin without your knowledge, but even he looked clueless. There was no one you were expecting, so you wondered if it was just the UPS guy dropping off a package.

When you opened your door though, it was indeed Seokmin, and he was pissed.

You had never seen him like this, with his nostrils flaring and his skin flushed red. It was almost as if steam was coming out of his own ears. But there was something very glaring about Seokmin that had you gawking at him.

His wings were on full display.

Snowy white wings fanned out behind him. You could hear a low, angelic hum faintly resounding from the feathers. You were in shock for a moment, unsettled and overwhelmed by the heavenly light that Seokmin was bathing in.

It seemed to have an even worse effect on Jeonghan. You noticed how he flinched at the sight, backing up slowly.

“Get back, Y/N,” Seokmin ordered. “I know this is gonna sound crazy, but your roommate’s dangerous.”

You wondered if he had some unexplainable power over you because your actions were going against your words as you found yourself stumbling away from the two. “Seokmin, don’t do this,” you begged.

He frowned. “What?”

But Jeonghan got his words in before you could. “Looks like the both of us figured it out before you did. You just found out you’re a Quartarion, huh?”

He was jeering, like he was taunting the angel to attack him. You couldn’t understand what the demon was thinking when he was clearly overpowered right now. Even if Seokmin wasn’t a pureblood angel, Jeonghan’s powers had considerably weakened ever since he entered the mortal realm.

“How…” Seokmin was shocked for a moment, straightening up and glowering down at you. “How did you know?”

“You found out recently, didn’t you? Mommy or daddy told you they were half, which meant you’re quarter—weaker than them,” Jeonghan pressed. “They kept it from you all this time, huh? Because your angelic presence wasn’t strong enough to be a threat, but then you started glowing brighter.”

“Jeonghan, enough!” you yelled, trying to mediate whatever was happening. You had no idea what Seokmin was going to do, but it definitely didn’t seem like he was here for another movie night.

“Mammon,” Seokmin said through gritted teeth. “That’s your real name, right?” Suddenly, the angel turned on you with an accusatory stare. “And you—how did you know about all of this? Did he tell you?”

You gulped before starting slowly, “Look, I accidentally summoned Jeonghan from my statistics textbook the day before you met him at the Olive Garden.”

Seokmin tilted his head, looking utterly puzzled. None of those words were in the Bible.

“I knew he was a demon,” you continued, “and he told me you were an angel. He could sense it, or something like that.”

“Oh,” Seokmin replied rather sadly, as if he had just discovered he had been the brunt of a joke all along. “Well, I’m sorry you were caught up in this Y/N, but I have to kill your roommate before he hurts anyone else.”

“Whoa, hold on—he hasn’t hurt anyone!” you cried, holding onto Seokmin’s shoulder to keep him from charging at Jeonghan. “You’re an angel; you can’t kill him!”

“Technically, he can,” Jeonghan noted as he just barely avoided the angel grabbing him. “Some angels are specifically assigned to keep demons away from humans. I think Seokmin’s just mad, though.”

“I’m not just mad,” Seokmin spat, although he was visibly seething. “I just feel stupid that I befriended someone who was trying to kill me this whole time!”

You turned your gaze to Jeonghan, who held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll admit I might have had murderous intentions at first, but come on! You would be dead by now if I really wanted to kill you.”

“You can’t kill him, Seokmin,” you repeated in a desperate attempt. “You owe him!”

Now the angel was lost. “And how exactly do I owe him?”

“Remember when your card declined, and I bought you that croissant on campus last week?” you tried. As soon as the words came out, you heard a loud groan from Jeonghan, and you were sure he was pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. “You owe me, who owes Jeonghan, so you owe Jeonghan!”

Seokmin was even more lost. “What?”

“Transitive property of equality: A equals B equals C, so A equals C.”

“There’s no way you’re actually applying the transitive property of equality to this situation.”

“And what exactly do you owe me for?” Jeonghan chimed in, equally as confused.

“Yeah, I can’t believe I’m agreeing with him on this one, but he’s a demon, Y/N,” Seokmin said. “If you feel like you owe him anything, it’s likely you were manipulated by him.”

“No, I wasn’t!” you protested before the demon could object himself. “I owe him because…”

You trailed off, wondering how you were going to string your feelings into comprehensible words. They were all a mess of jumbled vowels and consonants in your head, holding no significant weight until you thought long and hard, feeling it get heavier and heavier on your tongue.

The angel raised a brow. “Because what?”

Letters unfurling in your head. Piecing themselves together. You felt like your head was going to explode until you blurted out, “Because he showed me what love feels like.”

You looked over at Jeonghan to see him staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. He looked helpless at the moment, wild with pain, like he had let down all lines of defense at your declaration. A scarlet red blush stained his cheeks, and it was perhaps the single most human expression you had ever seen from him.

Seokmin moved forward, and an agonized scream tore itself from your throat before you could even think. His sudden movement chilled your blood, and all you could think about was how you needed to protect your guardian demon before he was struck by the angel.

And so you did.

Confession time: you kicked an angel in the balls.

You were pretty sure that was a one-way ticket to Hell.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” you kept repeating to a defeated Seokmin, who was now laying on the couch with pain drawn all over his face. “My fight response has been kicking in a lot more lately.”

“I wasn’t gonna hurt him,” he explained weakly. “My foot was just cramping up.”

“So you won’t kill Jeonghan?” you asked, brimming with hope.

“I… I don’t know,” he answered. “Jeonghan’s a demon, Y/N. Just because you have feelings for him doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of manipulating those emotions out of you.”

“He’s as good as human, Seokmin.”

“Y/N,” Jeonghan started, but you shook your head.

“I’m right!” you insisted. “Jeonghan has a heart, and it beats; I’ve felt it myself.” The two men were silent, so you continued, “He can’t handle alcohol at all; he’s more lightweight than I am. He likes building lego sets. He likes the rain, and he said it’s because that means an angel’s crying, but it’s really because he loves the way the Earth smells after rainfall. He likes coffee, but he always pours me some first before he takes any. You think he’d have the vocabulary of a Victorian man, but he knows more slang than I do. He… Jeonghan wants to be human. Isn’t that enough for you?”

Silence hung in the air. You wondered if you overstepped for a moment, aired out too much of his business, but then you could visibly see Seokmin at war with himself. You could see the internal battle in his eyes, fighting to believe in whatever the angels had instructed him to do.

He narrowed his eyes at the demon and asked in a calmer voice, “You swear you won’t kill me?”

“I swear on God.”

“You’re a demon. Swear on something else.”

“Um, okay… I swear on, uh, Y/N.”

“Please don’t swear on me,” you muttered, looking at your feet nervously as if the ground was going to swallow you whole.

Seokmin closed his eyes, exhaling loudly. “So, when did you stop wanting to kill me?”

“Y/N and I had a deal that I wouldn’t kill you in exchange for—”

You slapped a hand over the demon’s mouth immediately, successfully muffling the next words that decided to slip from his lips. It felt like your face was burning from how embarrassed you were. While Jeonghan shot you a confused look and tried to lick your palm to get it to budge, you exclaimed, “That detail isn’t important!”

“Anyway,” Jeonghan continued once you finally removed your hand, “I guess… part of me started enjoying those movie nights. Kinda hard to discuss the endings after you kill your friend, right?”

You could see Seokmin visibly soften, the fondness returning to his eyes. “You’re telling the truth.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“You can tell?” you inquired, wondering if it was some sort of angelic ability he had recently acquired.

“Yeah, I’ve always had some sort of sixth sense about these things,” Seokmin said, although you weren’t quite sure about this because you and Jeonghan had lied to him on numerous occasions. “I was only able to tap into it after I saw my wings for the first time.”

You then wondered if the longing etched bone-deep in Jeonghan’s face was also real.

It took a couple of hours for you and Jeonghan to explain everything to Seokmin, from beginning to end. You had to start from how you accidentally summoned him, which seemed to entertain the both of them, and you had to scold them both to take the situation seriously. Then, Jeonghan explained his side of the story, detailing how he didn’t have much time left because his mortal body was weak.

“What do we do now, then?” Seokmin asked, sitting up straight now. “You’re gonna die if you stay here, right?”

“That’s why he wanted to kill an angel,” you said, “but now we don’t have a game plan.”

The three of you sat in silence for several minutes, letting the situation sink in. Your nerves were still buzzing from your earlier confession, still unanswered by Jeonghan, but you knew it wasn’t the time to dwell on that. There were more important matters at hand, but no one knew what to do.

Jeonghan sighed. “It’s fine. I’ve already accepted that I’m going to die here and be reborn in Hell.”

“You think that’s fair to Y/N? Or me?” Seokmin burst out. “You’re basically telling us to watch you die, dude.”

“You think I wanted this outcome?” he snapped. “No, I didn’t think I was going to actually enjoy living in this realm! I didn’t think I was gonna fall in love with my human! I didn’t think mortals had such excellent marketing strategies!”

Seokmin’s eyes went wide. “You…”

“Jeonghan,” was all you could say, and his name came out no louder than a whisper.

“What?!”

“You said you love me.”

You looked toward Seokmin for confirmation, who answered with a quiet nod—an indication that not only had you heard it correctly, but Jeonghan was telling the truth.

To be honest, you were quite embarrassed that this was all coming to light in front of Lee Seokmin. He seemed very out of place in this otherwise tender moment. Yet, you were filled with inexplicable happiness and absolute dread simultaneously.

Once the grief settled, you were born again. Newfound confidence rising up your throat. You were determined to do whatever it took to mortalize Jeonghan.

“Oh, right.” The demon sounded nervous—enough to make you nervous. He simply stared at you for a moment before brushing the proclamation off with a wave. “Anyway…”

“Jeonghan!”

He shot you a withering look, glaring you down with every fiber of his being. “Seokmin is right there. Do you really wanna do this right now?” he whispered in an exasperated tone, turning his back to his friend so that he could converse with you. Although Jeonghan was lecturing, you were enjoying the way his blush rose to his cheeks. “We can talk about this after he leaves.”

“Okay, fine,” you agreed. “Why’d you have to blurt out a confession while he was here?”

“You did the same thing!”

“I can still hear you guys,” Seokmin reminded unhelpfully.

Somehow, Jeonghan took this as an opportunity to continue to chastise you. “See? This is all because you can’t keep quiet.”

“I can’t keep quiet?” You knew this was not the time nor place to bicker with your guardian demon, but he was an expert at getting on your nerves. “You’re the one who speaks in crazy demon lingo wherever we go!”

He scoffed. “I don’t speak in crazy demon lingo, human.”

“Yeah? Tell that to Chan. Poor guy had to witness your drunk ass going on about the Yog Sloth owing you or whatever.”

Jeonghan stammered and did a double take, looking at you like you had just kicked him square in the chest. “Wait… what did you just say?”

“Uh, Chan—”

“No, the other thing.”

“The Yog Sloth?”

“Yog Sloth,” he echoed, and then something clicked. “Yog-Sothoth? Wait, the Outer Gods—oh my god! They do owe me!” he all but yelled, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “Y/N, you’re a genius!”

Seokmin’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What’d she even do?” he asked, and you were glad you were on the same page as him.

“Yeah, what’d I do? Who the hell are the Outer Gods?”

For the next thirty minutes, Jeonghan went on to explain how billions of years ago, the most powerful beings of all creation, that rivaled even God Himself, were ruling over the universe. Before space and time was Azathoth—chaos. Azathoth even tried to disrupt the beginning of God’s Creation by starting a war. Each blow delivered from both God and Azathoth caused a rippling effect, creating infinite multiverses that were birthed from the clashing between darkness and light.

There was a period in time when the angels and demons had to side together for once to seal away the Outer Gods. Although they were no match for these cosmic beings, God was able to lock them in the Outerverse, where they have been slumbering ever since.

The key that locked away the Outer Gods had been missing for several millennia, but it happened to end up in the hands of Mammon and Belphegor. Mammon had the clever idea of reshaping the artifact into a human hand and hiding it in a fiery lake in Hell. It was called the Right Hand of Doom, but it hadn’t been touched ever since its reform.

“You reshaped a key of cosmic importance into a hand,” you summarized in disbelief. “That key has the power to doom all of our existences, and you turned it into a human hand.”

“You know, Belphegor had the same reaction after I created it,” Jeonghan said. “Actually, let me give him a call to fetch it for me.”

“Wait!” Seokmin exclaimed. “That key could wake the Outer Gods from their slumber. What are you planning on doing with it? Are you seriously considering using the Outerverse?”

“No, Seokmin, I’m gonna use it as a back scratcher.”

“Don’t get me wrong; I do want you to stay here, but this is extremely dangerous. It’s a really selfish decision, Jeonghan.”

“I’m literally the Prince of Greed.”

“Jeonghan, no matter how much I want you to become human and stay with me, this is just… it’s just crazy,” you said. “What if it goes completely wrong? What if you’re trapped in the Outerverse and killed by the Outer Gods?”

“Listen,” Jeonghan started. “When I first created the Right Hand of Doom, I was contacted by Yog-Sothoth himself—Azathoth’s grandson.”

“How did he contact you if he’s imprisoned?” you asked.

“These gods have their ways the same way demons do,” Jeonghan explained. “It’s kept on the down-low, but there are numerous worshippers of theirs that seek out ways to release them. None of them are ever successful, though.”

He continued, “Anyway, Yog-Sothoth isn’t as cruel as the others. He’s actually quite generous when he deems someone worthy, and I guess he thought I was that person when I refashioned the Right Hand of Doom. Millions of years ago, I helped the Outer Gods out by bringing them sacrifices to empower them, so they’re in my debt.”

Seokmin's face soured. “Why’d you bring them sacrifices?”

“Dunno. I was bored.”

“Let me get this straight,” you spoke up. “So, you’re gonna risk your life over the slight chance that you could be turned human?”

Jeonghan’s dark eyes pierced yours, as if he was saying, Look at me. Look at how far I’d go for you.

“Relax.” He cracked a smile. “It’s not like I’m going to the Outerverse myself. I just need the Right Hand of Doom to communicate with Yog-Sothoth across our realms. Even if he rejects my bargain, I doubt he’d try to crush me to a pulp from his prison.”

“If that’s all there is to it,” Seokmin started, a smile creeping to his face, “then I don’t see why we shouldn’t try.”

Jeonghan left the room momentarily to contact Belphegor, Prince of Sloth. He hadn’t exactly disclosed how he was going to summon the demon, but he returned with a scowl on his face, shaking his head as he explained that Belphegor was too lazy to retrieve the Right Hand of Doom at the moment. You and Seokmin asked when he would return, but even Jeonghan didn’t have an exact answer.

“Give me a call whenever he decides to show up,” Seokmin said before he went back to his apartment. You could tell that he was still shaken up from finding out that his friend had been a demon all this time, but you were glad that they were both being civil for now.

However, there were now other issues at hand. As soon as Seokmin left your apartment, you realized that the tension between you and Jeonghan couldn’t even be cut by a blade. To your surprise, your guardian demon was the first to mention it.

“You love me,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. It was like he was trying to wrap his head around the concept, trying to make sure it was real.

“I do,” you said bravely, “and you love me, I think. Seokmin seemed to believe it was true, and he’s an angel, so…”

“I think I do.” He looked pained. “These feelings are really confusing. I feel like I can’t breathe sometimes. You have a way of making me feel like I’m at the top of the world sometimes, but sometimes I feel like I’ve hit rock bottom.”

You understood that completely. When you and Jeonghan had your good moments together, you felt like you were soaring. However, when you were reminded about how little time he had left on Earth, you wanted to shut out the rest of the world and hide.

“We can figure it out together,” you told him, reaching forward to grab his hand and squeeze it.

Jeonghan’s eyes always looked different to you, like melted amber. They held many millennia of age and experience, so it felt like Jeonghan was unfazed by most aspects of life he encountered. Nothing could make the man falter.

But now, with evident panic in his eyes, newfound confidence surged through your blood that compelled you to get on your tip-toes and press a chaste kiss to his lips. It was a seemingly tame sign of affection, so you were thrown off when Jeonghan quietly slid a finger past the hem of your jeans. With his head dipped, the demon looked at you through his long, feathery lashes.

“Are you… are you hungry?” you stammered out.

“No,” he mumbled, raising his head to meet your eyes with his expectant ones. “Two people who like each other… Normally, this would lead to dating, wouldn’t it?” When you nodded, he continued, “How about it, then?”

“How about what?”

“Let’s go out.”

Your mind went blank for a moment. With how straightforwardly he said it, you would have thought Jeonghan was messing with your head, trying to push your buttons by teasing you. But his face looked determined this time, like he actually meant it. You could see the red glow of his eyes as he waited for an answer.

You blinked. “Like, as boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yes, as boyfriend and girlfriend,” Jeonghan confirmed, exasperated. He gripped your hand tighter, as if he was getting his feelings across with a gentle squeeze. “Like Hallie and Noah.”

“It’s Allie.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He scoffed, surprisingly tender in the way he cupped your cheeks and pulled you closer. You were still a bundle of nerves, but something about Jeonghan made you feel secure. Quite the opposite of how you theoretically should feel around a demon. “Hey,” he tried again, his voice no louder than murmur, “I wanna kiss you.”

You smiled. “Then do it already.”

And so he did.

Jeonghan had kissed you before, but it was nothing like this. It seemed so urgent before, like you both knew you were running out of time. This time, though, he was slow, taking his time to memorize the shape of your lips as he moved his mouth against yours. You felt his long lashes tickle your cheeks, and it almost made you giggle, so you had to pull back to regain your composure. Jeonghan looked down at you, chest heaving even though the kiss was nothing but gentle.

“Again,” you pleaded.

Immediately, his current expression turned cocky. The corner of Jeonghan’s mouth lifted in amusement, and he kissed you not-so-gently this time. He pulled your body flush against his, and you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his neck. The moment he slid his tongue past your lips, you heard a soft groan from Jeonghan that made your knees buckle under you.

Jeonghan held your waist with one hand and the back of your head with the other. Even though you were still standing on two feet, you were sure that he could hold you up, anyway. He gripped you like he never wanted to let you go.

“You taste good,” he mumbled against your lips.

“You taste like… coffee.” You made a face and let a giggle slip.

“Well, it’s a good thing you like coffee.”

“Not when I’m tasting it secondhand.”

“You know, a minute ago, I wanted to fuck you properly,” he said. “Now, I’m just miffed. Slightly turned on, but still miffed.”

“Fuck me properly?” you asked, sort of embarrassed by how high your voice got. You inched closer, allowing Jeonghan’s finger to toy with the waistband of your underwear. In return, you placed your hand flat against his abdomen, moving it down slowly until you reached his crotch. Jeonghan hissed when you pressed against his growing bulge. “You mean…”

“With my cock, yeah,” he finished bluntly.

It was silent for a moment. You removed your hand, swallowing carefully after realizing that your guardian demon was hard.

Jeonghan wordlessly slid his hand down your pants, maintaining direct eye contact with you. His hand cupped your clothed cunt, and although you tried to resist, you couldn’t help but throb for more contact. You wondered if he just wanted to see your reactions, and you confirmed this by watching his smirk form when you whimpered.

“Oh,” you breathed out.

“Yeah, you like that?”

His voice was heavy, ragged. You felt like you could get drunk off it, so, naturally, you backed up with him until the back of your legs hit the bed. You made a sound of agreement when he hummed, prompting you to answer his question. You couldn’t even form words when all you could think about was being under him. Jeonghan’s palming grew more intense, and you were having a harder time staying upright.

Then, he was occupied with your neck. Jeonghan dragged his soft lips along the flesh, nipping and biting where he pleased. You let out a soft whine when he sucked on that one spot that turned your brain into mush.

“I’m gonna lay you down,” he said, although it felt like a question with the way he was looking at you. His eyes were careful, like he was holding onto your every word before following through. “Am I doing this right?”

You laughed, delighted as he set you down on your bed and got over you. You looped your arms around his shoulders and asked, “What do you mean?”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Am I going about this the right way? I don’t really do this sort of thing.”

You were surprised at his sudden meekness. Judging from Jeonghan’s overwhelming confidence from your past hookups with him, you expected him to carry on with the same arrogance. You never thought he would be so hesitant all of a sudden.

“You’re doing perfect,” you reassured with a chaste peck to his lips.

“Right.” He did one of his breathless laughs, easing your nerves with his grin. “Just tell me if I’m screwing up, then.”

Jeonghan dipped his head again to pepper kisses across your collarbone, working his way back up to the column of your neck. He worked on your sweet spot, biting and sucking until he had successfully left a bruise. You squirmed underneath him the entire time, tugging your hands through his hair and begging for him to fix the ache between your legs.

The demon only chuckled darkly in response. As he bit the shell of your ear, he removed your jeans and underwear swiftly, which you aided by kicking the garments off your ankles. He prodded your cunt with nimble fingers, grinning wider when he saw the desperation in your eyes.

“You’re so wet,” he commented in a silky voice. “All for me, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, “and take your clothes off already.”

Jeonghan rose up to sit back on your thighs, staring at you the entire time he pulled his shirt off and discarded it to the side. You couldn’t help but ogle at his figure; he was absolutely gorgeous—sculpted by God Himself.

“Don’t do that,” he said gruffly when you reached out to poke his stomach. You deduced that Jeonghan was most definitely ticklish and trying to hide that weakness from you.

“But your reaction was cute.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled, his hands moving to tug at the hem of your shirt. “C’mon, your turn.”

“H-huh?”

Even when Jeonghan gave you head in the past, you always kept your shirt on. He, too, had never stripped down in front of you like this. Surely, you were expecting this to happen, but the thought of being fully naked in front of Jeonghan was intimidating. It felt like you two were reaching a level of intimacy and closeness that you thought was unattainable months prior.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I already know you’re not wearing a bra. You've gone braless for, like, almost a week now.”

You raised a suspicious brow at him. “You were staring at my tits?”

“No comment.”

Jeonghan placed his slender hands on your waist, squeezing your sides comfortingly as you pulled your shirt off over your head. He watched you with marvel in his eyes, eyes trained on the swell of your breasts. He leaned close to press soft kisses against the skin, whispering praise as he did so. You didn’t peg the demon to be so romantic, but you weren’t complaining.

You heard gentle pattering outside your window while Jeonghan kissed down your chest.

“It’s raining,” you whispered. The two of you broke apart for a brief moment while Jeonghan hastily got rid of his pants and boxers. “An angel’s crying.”

You looked to the side, and you nearly had to look away before Jeonghan could notice how flustered you looked. The demon stood in all his glory. You had seen naked men before, but Jeonghan was, of course, a creature beyond human comprehension. He was the most gorgeous being you had ever come across.

And, strangely enough, for the first time, you didn’t feel that uncontrollable tug of desire when you looked at him. You weren’t compelled to drop to your knees and submit to the demon. Your attraction felt innate, much like how the rain falls so naturally from the sky. Not that Jeonghan ever had you under a spell or anything, but it almost felt like he was becoming more human.

Whether that meant he was losing his powers or was growing accustomed to living as a human, you had no idea.

“You’re beautiful,” he admitted, looking down at you like you were the stars in the night sky.

“Thanks,” you replied shyly.

“That’s your reaction?” He beamed, amused. “Well, whatever. I’d rather you save your voice for when I make you scream, human.”

You thought it would be impossible at this point, but your cheeks grew even hotter. Yet, you couldn’t even chide the demon because he was already getting over you, promptly attacking your neck with more kisses.

You were a soaking mess already, so Jeonghan’s fingers slid into your cunt with ease. You were taken aback yourself by how effortless it was, but you figured two fingers couldn’t hold a candle to the girth of his cock.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch how Jeonghan fingered you. Both of you stared at the spot where his fingers disappeared in you, and the sight only turned you on even more. For once, Jeonghan was pleasuring someone else without the favor being returned, yet you had never seen him so satiated. He was thriving off of your moans and cries, like the sounds itself were feeding him.

A moan escaped your lips, fragmenting off into broken whimpers as Jeonghan’s fingers sped up. You felt your thighs start to shake—the preamble of your orgasm building up. Heat bloomed under your skin, and you dug your nails into the demon’s shoulders to warn him.

The warning only spurred him to move his fingers faster—in scissoring motions this time. His thumb found purchase on your clit, circling the ball of nerves slowly. Finally, you fell off the edge, crying out in ecstasy as boundless pleasure tore through your body. Your mind went blank, thinking about nothing but how good you felt. It was like you were bathed in heavenly light.

“I got you,” Jeonghan murmured, kissing the spot under your ear.

If you had half the mind to kick him in the shin, you would. Pretending to comfort you while torturing your swollen clit throughout your orgasm was pure evil. You expected no less from a demon.

“Will you do me a favor and fuck me already?” you asked, exasperated. For good measure, you flattened your palm against his stomach and slid your hand down his abs.

“Alright. Beg for it.”

You balked. “W-what?”

“You want me to fuck you that bad? Then beg for it,” he said with an air of haughtiness. You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but the man didn’t budge. “I’m waiting.”

“I am not begging you, that’s so—” You paused. Jeonghan raised a brow, prompting you to continue, so you admitted, “It’s embarrassing!”

He shrugged. “I think we’re both past the point of being embarrassed in front of each other, human.”

You sucked in a sharp breath. “Okay, fine. You want me to beg? I’ll beg.” You laid back down, looping your arms around Jeonghan’s neck once more and pulling him close. “I’ve been waiting months for you to fuck me, so please make me feel good and I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” The mischievous glint in his eyes was unmistakable.

“I’ll be good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” you whined, the agitation growing in your chest. “I’ll be a good girl, okay? I’ll be really, really good.”

“Alright, I’m sold.”

Jeonghan pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting out a light laugh before his demeanor completely shifted. His easygoing smile turned into a proud smirk when he practically folded you in half, throwing one of your legs over his shoulders so that he could line himself up to your entrance. He hummed, teasing your folds with the head of his cock.

You wanted to cry out, to push at his chest and beg him to just fuck you already. All of the teasing had you at your tipping point, and you were about to complain until you felt the tip of Jeonghan’s cock enter you slowly.

Your breath hitched. He hadn’t even completely entered you, and you were already throbbing at the thought of his cock inside you. Jeonghan used one hand to hold your hips down, pushing into you slowly but surely. You could tell he didn’t want to rush or hurt you, so he kept his eyes trained on your face the entire time, gauging whether to proceed based off your reactions.

“Sorry,” he apologized, placing a kiss against your stomach as he continued pushing his way inside you until he bottomed out. Your eyes nearly rolled back once he was fully inside, and all you could do was clench around him until he growled. “Hold still.”

“Keep going,” you begged, holding onto him like he was your anchor. If you let go of him, you were sure you would fall apart.

Jeonghan simpered, looking quite delighted as he started rocking his hips slowly. It seemed as though he was waiting for you to get adjusted to his size. Despite all, you were still clenching around his cock occasionally, leaving him holding onto you tighter and groaning into the crook of your neck. Jeonghan sped up his thrusts and left a bruising grip on your hips.

“You like that?” he asked, and, lord, you nearly came for the second time just by his words.

“Jeonghan!” you cried out, nearly gasping the words. “I… I want—”

“Want what?” he cut you off smoothly, smirking down at your disheveled appearance. He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust. “What do you want, princess?”

You whimpered. “I do wanna be your girlfriend.”

He froze for a moment, stunned. Apparently, that wasn’t the route he was expecting you to take.

Then, the demon’s shock wore off and was replaced with a warm smile. “Yeah?” he asked, leaning down to meet your lips in a sweet kiss. He pulled away to look into your eyes. “I’d be honored to be your boyfriend, Y/N.”

It was like clockwork—the way your orgasm hit you at that very moment. You tightened around him uncontrollably, the sporadic motions causing Jeonghan to cum as well. He pulled out right before his climax, ropes of cum spilling onto your stomach. You watched it pool together with hazy, unfocused eyes, still dazed from your orgasm and sudden confession.

Jeonghan was your boyfriend now.

“I see why mortal men are such fools for women,” Jeonghan said once he collapsed next to you. “If sex is always this good, I would start wars, too.”

“You’re a demon prince. You’ve started wars, anyway.”

“Oh, right.”

Afterward, you taught Jeonghan a thing or two about aftercare. The concept was completely foreign to him, so you informed him that good boyfriends took care of their girlfriends after sex. When Jeonghan told you to just grab a tissue and call it a day, you had to scold him to get him to clean you up.

To your surprise, Jeonghan did a satisfactory job. You half-expected him to do the absolute bare minimum, but you could definitely see that he was trying his best.

So, you bestowed upon him the highest honor: allowing him to sleep with you in your bed.

Jeonghan got under the sheets beside you, wrapping an arm around you once you cozied up to him. It was strange how comfortable you felt with him, especially considering he was your assigned demon. In some parallel universe, you and Jeonghan might have been normal people with normal lives, and you two probably felt the same level of closeness as you did right now.

Neither of you could sleep right away. Jeonghan traced patterns along your arm and you told him countless stories about your childhood. He smiled fondly, intently listening to the life you lived before him.

Later, he kissed you, and, between bated breaths, whispered promises of forever. And eventually, the soft trickling of rain lulled you both to sleep.

You woke up freezing.

At first, you thought Jeonghan had stolen the blanket. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for the Prince of Greed to be, well, greedy. However, considering your limbs were entangled with his, that didn’t seem to be the case.

The feeling was awfully familiar. It was the same sub-zero temperature you experienced when Jeonghan appeared in your room the first time. However, it was brief this time, dissipating as soon as it started.

Although you couldn’t identify the strange man who materialized in the center of your room, you had a good idea of who it was.

“Oh, Belphegor,” Jeonghan greeted without a care in the world, confirming your suspicions immediately. You were amazed that the half-naked demon was completely unfazed by his demon friend coming out of nowhere. Maybe this was just a regular morning for their kind. “About time you showed up.”

Belphegor made a noncommittal sound. “Yeah, well…”

“I can’t believe it took you centuries to fetch the Hand.”

“I was going to do it,” he said, “but then I didn’t want to.”

Jeonghan groaned. “You idiot.”

You gathered up the bedsheets, making sure to cover yourself fully before turning your attention back to the two demons. Maybe if you acted like everything about this situation was normal, it would distract from the fact that you only had a blanket to cover your naked body. The stranger seemed to have no interest in you whatsoever, so you figured he wouldn’t think anything of you and Jeonghan sleeping together.

“Jeonghan!” you hissed, glowering at your startled boyfriend. “It wouldn’t kill you to wake me up?”

“Oh, Y/N,” he started, seeming pleased with himself. He gestured toward the demon next to him, who looked like he had just rolled out of bed himself. “This is Belphegor, but you can call him by his human name: Wonwoo.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said cautiously.

“Hi.”

There was clearly no room for conversation between you two.

“Anyway,” Wonwoo continued, shooting Jeonghan a curious look, “what’re you gonna do with the key? You’re not opening the Outerverse, are you?”

Jeonghan shook his head. “I’m not gonna release the Outer Gods, I’m—”

“Well, that’s good to know,” Wonwoo cut him off, clearly uninterested in the conversation. “Now that I know you’re not trying to kill us all, I’ll get going.”

“Yeah, okay, good talk.”

Later in the day, you sat on the floor of your living room with Jeonghan and Seokmin. Jeonghan was giving him a rundown of Belphegor’s visit, which didn’t take very long considering he was there for a grand total of nine moments. You almost made an offhand comment about how Jeonghan didn’t give you any time to get dressed, but that would have exposed what went down between you two last night.

Neither of you had even mentioned to Seokmin about sealing the deal.

“Alright, so,” the Quartarion started, “how does this work?”

Jeonghan pulled out a ten dollar bill, a deformed-looking Twinkie, and a tiny bottle of bath salts from the pocket of his sweater. He laid them out carefully around the Right Hand of Doom before looking up at you and Seokmin. A smug grin spread across his face, but you and the angel were flabbergasted.

“A Twinkie?” you asked.

“He likes sweets,” was the extent of Jeonghan’s explanation.

“Primordial Outer God of space-time likes Twinkies. Good to know.”

“And the ten dollars?” Seokmin asked.

“He likes money, too,” Jeonghan said. Before either of you could question the bath salts, he pointed to the bottle and added, “These are just for the vibes.”

Nice.

“Anyway,” Jeonghan continued, “these types of invocations usually require human sacrifices or something along those lines.” Seokmin and him glanced in your direction at the same time, and you shot them each an icy glare. Jeonghan coughed into his fist. “We’re obviously not sacrificing you. I’m just saying he’s more likely to answer me because I’m a demon prince.”

Seokmin looked on edge. “So… are we starting?”

“I don’t want Y/N in the room,” Jeonghan answered.

“What?” you asked, shocked at the sudden dismissal. “Why?”

“He’s so powerful—even knowing of his existence can drive some mortals insane,” Jeonghan muttered darkly. “Seokmin should be fine since he’s an angel, but there’s a chance you’d go mad if you heard his voice, so stay back until I say so.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You were already starting to get to your feet the second he mentioned mortals going insane.

“I’ll stand in the hallway, then,” you decided, far too curious to lock yourself in one of the rooms.

You watched as Jeonghan and Seokmin took each other’s hands quietly and exchanged a silent nod of understanding before closing their eyes. Jeonghan then started reciting some strange incantation that was far more complicated than the one you used to summon him. It seemed to drag on for close to a minute before the air around them went still. It was as if they were trapped in a time vortex, suspended in space while all you could do was wait for them to be released.

You took careful steps backward until you were against the wall, and then you sank down to the floor. As much as you tried to calm your nerves, you were riddled with anxiety. You had to physically hold your thigh down to keep it from bouncing.

Jeonghan didn’t tell you how exactly this would go. Hell, he probably didn’t know himself. Because you were so unaware, though, you weren’t sure if what was happening right now was normal or not. The two men weren’t even twitching or breathing; they were like still images.

Minutes stretched on. You weren’t sure how long it had been, but each passing second felt longer than it should have been. There was nothing you could do but wait. Stare at the motionless air around the two boys and wait.

It had probably been around half an hour when Seokmin’s eyes shot open with a loud gasp. You scrambled to your feet immediately, badgering the poor boy with questions to find out what happened while he was just trying to catch his breath. Jeonghan, on the other hand, looked the very image of tranquility when he opened his eyes.

“What is it?” you kept asking. “What happened?”

Seokmin had a strange, distant look in his eyes. He tried to speak several times, but no words came out.

“Could you get him something warm to drink, Y/N?” Jeonghan asked. “I think he’s in shock.”

“I’ll—I’ll make some tea,” you stammered, stumbling over your feet before you could start walking properly. “How about you? Are you—” You stopped yourself once you saw the hint of fear in Jeonghan’s eyes, and it chilled your blood. You couldn’t even fathom what they had just gone through. “I’ll get you a cup, too.”

It took two hours for the two men to recover—slowly but surely. You brought them tea and gave them time to process what they had just been through. It mainly consisted of you sitting to the side and keeping yourself from asking any questions. You figured they’d tell you if they wanted, but you weren’t in any position to press them.

Jeonghan seemed to feel bad for letting Seokmin tag along. He kept glancing at the angel with sad eyes, seeming remorseful. Then, he turned his attention to you. To your surprise, he walked over to where you sat on the couch to sit next to you and lay his head on your shoulder.

“Hey,” you called softly. “Are you feeling better?”

He nodded, although he didn’t look you in the eyes. “You should probably go to your room. Yog-Sothoth told us he’s thinking about my request, so he could be making up his mind any minute now.”

“You’re going back?”

“I guess. It was more like my consciousness was transported there instead of my physical body.”

He said it like it should have been no big deal, but the two were clearly unsettled by their visit. You weren’t sure how to feel about them going back. It could break Seokmin for good. Even though he was an angel-blood, he didn’t have the power that Jeonghan had.

“The fact that he listened to Jeonghan’s request means that he’s considering it,” Seokmin spoke up after a period of silence between you three. “It’s a good thing you didn’t go, Y/N. The Outerverse is the most terrifying realm I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been to Alabama.”

You smiled a little. At least he seemed to be feeling more at ease now.

“They say Yog-Sothoth exists beyond our reality, so he can possibly see other streams of reality that aren’t connected to the branches of Creation,” Jeonghan explained. “That sounds insane, right? When you’re in the Outerverse seeing those pockets of different realities… it can make you go a little crazy. I mean, I’d give Hell a five star Yelp review over the Outerverse.”

Seokmin tucked his head in his folded arms. “I never wanna go to that place again.”

“Well, I’m not exactly planning to have my next birthday party there.”

“Mammon,” a voice boomed in your ears, and the sound itself was weird. There were undertones of echoes in its words, and you couldn’t even tell if the voice was in your head or not.

You didn’t have to ask who it was because the fear in Seokmin’s eyes was unmistakable. Jeonghan straightened up, panicked, but you assumed it was because you were still in the room because he swiftly placed his hands over your ears in an attempt to muffle the sound. You weren’t sure it would help, but you did feel safer that way.

“God of Time, I appreciate your presence.”

“I’ve decided to accept your offer,” Yog-Sothoth said. His voice sounded louder, even with Jeonghan’s hands over your ears. “I’ll help you.”

There was a way.

He removed his hands from the sides of your head, and you sat up straight again. You never thought those four words would light up so much hope inside you, but here you were, beaming like an idiot next to your demon boyfriend. There was a hope for a future between you and Jeonghan—hope that you two could live out the rest of your lives as humans. More importantly, there was hope that you two could live out the rest of your lives together.

For a moment, you were filled with doubt. There was so much at stake for this decision, and you couldn’t fathom someone loving you so much that they would give their world up for you.

“Jeonghan,” you murmured, “are you sure about giving up immortality?”

“I’d rather live a short life with you than spend the rest of eternity longing for what we could have had,” he declared with a fire blazing in his eyes. “I don’t want forever if it’s not with you, Y/N.”

His soft words coupled with his fierce gaze only sent butterflies to the pit of your stomach. You were hopeless when it came to Jeonghan; whatever he said left you like putty in his hands.

“Jeonghan,” Seokmin whispered, looking fearful. He was pointing at the makeshift summoning circle. “The Twinkie’s gone.”

So, the primordial Outer God of space-time was helping Jeonghan out because of a Twinkie. You decided against questioning why the all-powerful being was about to manipulate the fabric of reality over an over-glorified sponge cake.

“But,” Yog-Sothoth’s voice echoed in your ears as he spoke, “for this exchange, I require a sacrifice.”

“A sacrifice?” Jeonghan asked, frowning. “The Twinkie—”

“No, Mammon, not the Twinkie. I want you to bring me a loved one; an eye for an eye.”

You frowned. Jeonghan could split his soul into two—one residing in his demon form in Hell, and the other residing in his human body here—but he had to sacrifice someone he loved? You couldn’t understand how this was a fair exchange; he was already giving up a part of him for this ordeal.

“Sacrifice a loved one in exchange for what I want,” Jeonghan echoed, a faraway look in his eyes. “I’ve seen this before.”

“You have?” Your eyebrows narrowed. “When?”

“Avengers: Endgame.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Dude,” Seokmin chimed in, and you were starting to think you were the only one who understood the gravity of the situation. “This is literally Thanos sacrificing Gamora for the Soul Stone.”

“Stop embarrassing us in front of the Outer God!” you whispered harshly.

“Well,” Jeonghan started, his tone growing serious again, “I’m sure you know my choice.”

“Yes, I do.” Yog-Sothoth hummed, and something about it seemed calculative. You wanted to interject and ask Jeonghan what the hell he was talking about, but you felt like you were immobilized. “Very well, then.”

You looked at Seokmin to see if he understood what was going on, but he seemed just as confused as you were. Jeonghan just stared ahead, refusing to look either of you in the eye, and panic rose in your throat. You wanted to trust him, to confidently know that he wasn’t choosing you or Seokmin, but you really didn’t know who else it could have been.

Like Jeonghan told you before, demons didn’t care about anyone or anything. Only you and Seokmin were able to crack him open.

That was why horrifying realization was drawn across both of your faces. Jeonghan was choosing either you or Seokmin, and considering you were the reason he wanted to be mortal in the first place, you were terrified he was going to sacrifice Seokmin. And it seemed like Seokmin was terrified of that possibility, too.

You stood up and grabbed his shoulder. “Jeonghan, you—”

But before you could get any words out, you were sinking and the ground was swallowing you whole.

Everything went dark, and then silence followed.

You had gone under anesthesia once in your life. It was back when you were thirteen and the doctors had to perform an appendectomy on you. Being sedated didn’t feel like sleeping at all; it felt like closing your eyes and then waking up to a weird jumpcut in your memory. You remembered being extremely disoriented at first, not even realizing what had just happened to you.

Now, as your eyes fluttered open, you felt the same way.

You were tucked in your bed, which had to have been impossible because you were in the living room when everything turned black. You sat up to gather your bearings. Your head was a mess for a second, unable to focus on one thing at a time.

Jeonghan. Seokmin. Yog-Sothoth. Twinkies. Sacrifice.

The words etched themselves in your bones until you felt dread seep in. If you were still in your bed, completely unharmed, that meant Jeonghan had gotten rid of Seokmin. You looked down at your hands, and you realized they were shaking before you could stop yourself.

“Jeonghan!” you yelled, furious. Before he could hurry to your room, you stormed out, fighting back tears. Just as you thought, he was rushing down the hallway to see you, but you weren’t in the mood for a happy reunion. “How could you?!”

He looked confused. “Didn’t… didn’t you want this? I’m human now, Y/N.” A bright smile broke across his face. “Yog-Sothoth split my soul, so Mammon’s back in Hell where he belongs, but I’m here to stay as a human.”

You punched his shoulder. Hard.

“Okay, ow,” he complained. “Y/N, I—”

“Don’t,” you warned. Your voice was wavering and you could feel your throat closing up. “I don’t wanna hear it after what you did to Seokmin. You promised me you wouldn’t kill him!”

As if on cue, the angel-blood, who was supposed to be dead, peaked into the hallway from where he was in the living room. He had a bowl of ice cream in his hands, shaking his head at you repeatedly.

“I’m not dead,” he clarified, even though you could very clearly see that. “I’m alive.”

“Oh.” You had to take a step back because now, you were more confused than ever. “You’re alive.”

“You sound disappointed. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna steal your boyfriend.”

“I’m not! I’m… really fucking confused—wait, you found out we’re dating, too?” You turned to look up at Jeonghan. “Wait, so who’d you sacrifice, then? What happened after I blacked out? I feel like I’m so in the dark right now.”

Jeonghan looked down at his feet, suddenly glum. “I sacrificed my pet.”

“Mount Fu—I mean, Doljjong? I thought it was dead already?”

“No, my other pet.” He showed you his phone screen, which was on an article about Mount Vesuvius going extinct. “Jjongddol.”

“Oh, another rock.” You tried to sound sympathetic, but it was hard to feel bad for a volcano. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“He’s not even sad about it!” Seokmin argued, pointing his spoon at Jeonghan in an accusatory manner. “He gaslit the Time God!”

Jeonghan huffed. “I am sad, okay! Just because it took me a while to remember his name doesn’t mean I don’t have fond memories with Doljjong!”

“Jjongddol,” you corrected.

“Oh, right—Jjongddol!”

You smiled, taking his face into your hands. “You know what this means, though?”

Jeonghan looked at you, eyebrows lifting in pleasant surprise. “What?”

(“Oh, Christ, they’re gonna start making out,” Seokmin muttered and hurried back to the couch. “I’m gonna look for movies on the TV, Jeonghan!”)

“It means we finally have all the time in the world to ourselves, Yoon Jeonghan.” You got on your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips, which he reciprocated almost immediately. “I’m a little sad I don’t have a guardian demon anymore, though, even if he sucked at his job.”

“Hey, I didn’t suck!” He pouted a little, which you laughed at. “Now, though, you get to show me how to be a proper human.”

“Oh, shoot. We need to find you a place to live since my lease only allows one person, and then we need to figure out getting your documents in order, and then—”

Jeonghan cut you off with a laugh. “I’m on board for all that, but I’d really like to celebrate my new life right now by watching a movie with my best friend and girlfriend.” He slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer, and you couldn’t help but giggle. “And then tonight I’d like to—”

“Alright, alright!” you interjected, feeling your face go hot. “You know, the demon part of you might be gone power-wise, but I don’t know about personality-wise.”

“You love it, though.”

“Jeonghan, let’s watch Superbad!” Seokmin called from the living room.

“Okay!” Jeonghan turned to you and held out his hand. “Come on. I heated up popcorn and even put in some jalapeños for you.”

“Hey.” You stopped him, and you weren’t exactly sure why, but you felt so overwhelmed by your emotions at the moment. There were so many forces against you two, yet you still managed to fight the odds. A constant storm you both battled to stay together, and only now you felt like you could finally breathe. So, when Jeonghan looked at you, the words came out naturally. “I love you.”

He looked at you for a moment, before his face broke into one of those heartbreakingly beautiful smiles again. “I love you, too, Y/N.”

Now it was your time to smile and grab his hand. “Let’s go watch that movie.”

“Oh, is Y/N watching with us?” Seokmin asked.

“This may come as a shock, but this happens to be my apartment, Seokmin.”

And, as you three watched the movie, you and Jeonghan kept your hands interlocked, unwilling to let go. You thought it was beautiful how two hands could touch and forge a bond like no other. It must have been why you and Jeonghan had made it past every obstacle that came hurtling your way.

In some parallel universe out there, some stream of reality that didn’t branch from Creation, you and Jeonghan were probably normal people who found each other naturally. In that world, neither of you had to go through all the pain and suffering to find each other, to finally end up in each other’s arms.

But you would choose this reality over that one every single time. You would go through all the trails and tribulations for Jeonghan however many times you needed to because, at the end of the day, the love you two had for each other couldn’t compare to any other reality out there.

And you would never admit it out loud, but he was right; your guardian demon didn’t totally suck at his job.

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