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#but that's fine! doesn't count if i'm aware of it!
camellia-thea · 7 months
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#vent#i realised that i had a routine as soon as i was not able to do it.#was very upsetting#feels kind of like. i've just been having a... semester? basically? i think it started in like. may.#and i've just been having dips where i come out and go ''okay i'm finally fine again''#then i'm just clinging until the next thing takes me out#and it's just. searching desperately for things that give me control and make me feel at least vaguely a little better#and so losing a routine like that was really upsetting because having some videos each week to look forward to#god. i finally hit somewhere i think i have a baseline for with physical health and my mental health goes to absolute shit#i just want to be done with uni#but that comes with other problems#need to do things. feel like i can't. stressed either way.#feel like the world is falling on my head 24/7#constantly aware of how much it costs to be disabled and unable to work#and not wanting to live that way#but like. there isn't another option? me doesn't count as disabling for disability living support and i can't get a job#so i'm dependent on study to live and like. i want to work! i want to have a job!#and like. my life wouldn't be perfect with better support in that area#but damn would it be better.#all i do is think about it or being sick or feeling guilty about something that was completely fine actually#i just. want to not worry. i want to be taken out of my brain and body for a bit. not forever. just. for a while.#i just want some peace.
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dirtytomatoedwrites · 6 months
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THE RESIGNATION
Summary: You can quit. It doesn't mean Rafe will let you.
Paring: CEO!Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader
Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact
Warnings:  18+ Smut. Oral (w receiving) Masturbation (w), Rough Sex, PIV, Creampie, Fluff, Romance with a dash of Angst. AgedUp!Rafe. Not Proof-Read. Enjoy.
Word Count: 2k words
Author's Note: Something a little shorter, lighter and sweet. Happy reading and much love to you all ❤️
Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.
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*Buzzzzzzzzz*
“Yes.”
“Y/N is here to see you.”
“Send her in.”
Rafe watches in fascination as you shuffle in, your face taut and serious. Your eyes cast downward, clutching a file. As you tuck an unruly strand of hair behind your ear, he realizes you're nervous. The tension, his silence, makes you even more anxious.
“Sit,” he instructs, motioning to the chair across his desk. Meanwhile, he keeps his gaze on his papers. He continues to read and leisurely sign forms. Yet, he can distinctly feel your eyes on him, both of you fully aware of the meeting's purpose.
For Rafe, the dynamics at play are exhilarating. After finishing his tasks, he lifts his eyes to find you focused on your file, seemingly avoiding his gaze.
He unbuttons his suit jacket and leans back, his fingers drum lightly on the fine-crafted letter in front of him. The paper carries a soft hint of perfume. It smells like you.
There's a part of him that wishes to be cruel, to use biting words he's often used with others in his employ. Yet something about you prevents him. The game of power was always in his favor, but with you, the boundaries become ambiguous, shifting in unexpected ways. With you, it's always been personal.
“Why didn't you tell me you were unhappy?” he asks. His tone is calm, yet probing. You seem taken aback, eyes widening as they search his face.
He decides to try another approach. “It's clear to me now,” he points to your letter of resignation. “You were unhappy at Cameron Enterprises. How long have you felt this way?”
Your surprise is palpable, and he watches you closely, enjoying the tapestry of emotions that flash across your face, each one more captivating than the last.
“Well?” he prods.
You shift, straightening your back. “I am grateful for my time at Cameron Enterprises. Truly I am. The team has been so kind to me, and I'll honestly cherish the friends I've made—”
“But?” he asks, cutting you off, eager to understand.
“But, I believe it's time for me to pursue other opportunities,” you admit, measuring your words. You slowly nod your head, as though you have thought this whole thing out, and now you are not only resolved with the thought but you truly believe it. It’s this sureness, this resolution, that truly makes Rafe react.
“I see,” Rafe says as he presses a button, making the office walls turn opaque. "So, you think you've outgrown us."
“No—”
"No?" he interrupts, rising from behind his desk and walking slowly toward you.
"No. I just- I feel it's time for me to try something... new.”
"Something new," he repeats, his gaze lowers to meet yours while you look up at him. His eyes scrutinize you carefully. “I respect that,” he nods, and as you avert your gaze, he gently hooks your chin with his fingers, prompting you to look him in the eye.
“No, really. I do. What's the point of life if not to grow, right? But let me be crystal clear: leaving here is not an option. So, here's what I'm willing to offer," his voice is as smooth as honey as his thumb strokes your jaw. "First, a five percent raise. But seeing as you’re already on one of the highest salaries here, I suspect that won't really sway you. You’ll also be given a new title.”
"Raf—"
"And to sweeten the deal," Rafe interrupts, "a vacation to any destination you want. You'll be whisked away on the company jet, stay at a five-star, luxury hotel—every need pampered and taken care of. I'll see to that, and we'll get to that, but here's the thing—" he whispers, his voice low and seductive.
"You embarrassed me today—ah, ah, I'm talking," he asserts, his eyes commanding yours into silence. "If it were anyone else, anyone else, no one would have noticed or given a flying fuck. But since it’s you, your little resignation created a lot of gossip. It made us look weak, hinted at instability, and in a Fortune 500 company, that's not going to work. Do you think the board cares about your need to ‘try something new'? Hm," his gaze is drawn to your mouth as you clamp it shut.
"So for those reasons, I'm going to punish you,”he says, while his thumb gently taps your chin. "But how to punish you...” he muses. “That’s the real question.”
Pulling away, he slides his hands into his pockets and, after taking a few steps back, leans against his desk.
"Rafe, you know I was just— I mean I wasn’t trying to—”
"Spare me, all right? I'm not interested in hearing what you have to say. Not right now. What I want..." he said slowly as he tapped a finger to his chest "What I want, is for you to open your legs, yeah? That's what I want."
You're shocked — he gathers as much from the way you gulp, and Rafe can't help but let a smirk of self-satisfaction curl his lips.
"Don't look so surprised. You knew what working for me entailed when you agreed to it. Now, spread your legs. Let me see what I'm shelling out nearly half a mil for."
"Rafe, I… I" you murmur.
Crossing his arms, his gaze locks onto yours signalling the end of the discussion. Hesitantly, and with much caution, you eventually slide your legs apart, your skirt riding up ever so slightly.
"Wider," Rafe commands, "Lean back and open them wider."
Breathing heavily, you do as he asks. Leaning back against the chair, you spread your legs open fully, causing your skirt to ride up to your waist, revealing your panty-covered sex. The damp patch, dark against the bright red fabric teases him.
"Pull your panties to the side. Let me see how wet you are.” he whispers silkily.
You turn your head away shyly but eventually you hook a finger into the fabric and pull it aside, exposing your slick wet folds to his ravenous gaze.
Rafe smiles in approval.
"That's good." he purrs, "Now, touch yourself. That pussy looks like it needs a good fingering " his voice rumbles with authority as his gaze flickers from your face to your exposed weeping slit. You hesitate, breathing heavily while trying to form a protest.
"I… I'm not—"
"Do it," he interrupts firmly.
You hesitate for a few moments, but eventually obey by pushing a finger into your dripping sex. A moan escapes your lips when Rafe lets out a deep groan as encouragement. Your hesitation seems to disappear and you push another finger in.
"Fuck," he hisses. "Add another. I know you can handle it."
You nod slowly and introduce a third, while the middle finger of your other hand gently rub your clit. Sinking into the sensation you open your legs wider for more access, your fingers moving hard and fast.
Rafe groans in protest. “Go slow...This isn’t for you. It’s about what I want, and what I want is for you to tease yourself. You're not allowed to cum. Not yet. Not until I say.”
You whimper but follow his command. You slow your speed til it's teasing almost leisurely and Rafe soaks it all in. The jolts of pleasure that have you mewling, the way your chest rises and fall, breathless, desperate. The way you curl your fingers just enough to make you gasp. It's incredible to watch and as your hips begin to buck against your massaging fingers, Rafe finds himself looming over you, taking in the sight of your ecstasy-filled face and finger-stuffed pussy.
He leans in and kisses you. His tongue lashes yours, tasting your moans and desperation. He pulls away, eyes back on your wet centre, focused on your fingers moving in and out, accompanied by the sweet wet sounds it makes and your hips rising from the chair.
"Go on, make that pussy cum." he orders. In no time, your orgasm washes over you. He can see it build from your core as you shudder and your thighs shake, your breath hitches fighting to stave it off and then it radiates out from the depths of your soul in a moan of pure ecstasy.
Before you can catch your breath, Rafe pushes your hand away and laps at your essence with his tongue. His hands on the back of your knees, push your legs right to your chest, keeping it wide open as he tongue fucks you.
Eating you out was always an appetizer he savored, making sure you had cum at least twice from his efforts, but right now, with his blood boiling with anger and frustration, he's famished and desperate for the main course.
Urgently, he undoes his slacks and lifts your legs even higher, pinning your ankles above your head with one hand. Without giving you time to adjust, he smears his cock with your slick and plunges deep into your tight heat, pressing you into the chair with his body weight as he begins to pound you.
It's a painful position, and he's acutely aware of that. It's deep and aggressively forceful, the type of position that should be approached with care, or ease you gently into it. But right now, it's not about you. Right now he's too riled up to care and so he fucks you without remorse or restraint, reducing you to nothing more than a fuck toy- his fuck toy spurred on by the delicious moans that escape your parted lips.
Your hands cling to the armrests for dear life as you desperately try to maintain your balance. Rafe continues to slam his hips against the back of your thighs, taking pleasure in your inability to move while he plows you deep. You whimper, desperate to escape his grip, but it does nothing to deter him. Instead, he revels in your struggle, knowing that your lack of control will only intensify his orgasm and your own.
"You want to quit..." Rafe sneers. He watches you whimper and feels your pussy tighten like a vice, while simultaneously soaking the front of his slacks. It makes him feral and he redoubles his efforts, fucking you into the chair until it starts to scrape against the cherry-oak floor.
"You want to quit on me?" he strains, while he observes ecstasy wash over your face, your eyes roll back in a pleasure-filled awe. With one hand, he gently taps your cheek to keep you focused.
"You wanna quit on me? Huh?” And he leans in further, his cock repeatedly hits a spot so deep you’re shaking, babbling and barely coherent.
“You're not going anywhere. Not now, not ever," he grunts, "Now fucking cum. Fucking cum.” His ruthless demand pushes you higher until all inhibitions are obliterated. You scream out in surrender, bucking up onto his plundering cock while Rafe releases a guttural moan, filling you with ribbon after ribbon of thick cum.
Several minutes have passed when his movements gradually stops, signaling the ebbing of his energy. He's exhausted, his fervor having reached its climatic end. He pulls out, his balance wavering slightly until his back meets the glass desk behind him. A contented exhale escapes his lips as he takes in the sight of you.
There you are, looking thoroughly fucked out. Your legs are splayed open, a sheen of sweat glistens on your skin, reflecting the aftermath of passion. His cum slowly leaks out of you and you wear it like a carnal badge of honor. Observing your state, he’s acutely aware that his own appearance mirrors yours—fucked out and messy. His clothes is in disarray, his cock is hanging out and physical exhaustion makes his body seek support against the table.
Despite the disheveled scene, a wave of affection swells within him, washing over any remnants of his earlier anger. His chest heaves as he gulps in air, attempting to control his breathing.
"You're lucky I love you," he manages to say, each word punctuated by his effort to recover. His gaze locks onto yours, intense yet softened by the rush of emotions. "No one else has this infuriating, intoxicating effect on me. You drive me to the brink and back," he adds, a playful seriousness lacing his tone as he licks his lips. "For that little stunt, I should fire you," he teases.
Your fingers glide through the cum dripping from your sex, and Rafe can't suppress a sense of pride. He always takes pride in the chaos he creates, especially when you revel in it.
"I've been trying to talk to you, but you've been so distracted lately, you haven't been listening" you sigh, as you try to catch your breath. "What else was I supposed to do to get your attention? Hand me some tissues, will you?"
He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he digests your words, then reaches with a trembling hand for the tissue box on his desk. "When? When did you try to talk to me and I wasn't listening?" he asks. He takes a clump of tissues and hands them to you.
"This morning at breakfast, and last night during dinner. I barely started speaking before you turned the conversation back to contractors and deadlines and even when I gave you a solution, not just one Rafe but two- two concrete solutions you ignored me. It was like I wasn't even there. It's not the first time." you explain, accepting the tissues from him.
"I didn't realize—"
"You did," you interrupt, ensuring your eyes stay fixed on his to underline your statement. "Why do you think I kept singing the song about wanting to make some changes, wanting to try something new. I've been saying it for weeks on and off because this is clearly not working."
“I thought you were talking about remodeling the offices, not resigning from the company. It's a family business—how would it look if my wife quits?" His voice carries a hint of concern, not just for the optics but for the unspoken bond that this business represents between the two of you.
A soft sigh escapes you as you lock eyes with him, a delicate blend of frustration and affection. "Rafe, I don't want to walk away from this," you admit "But I need more than just a title and a desk. I need to feel heard, to be part of this with you, not just in name because I'm married to a Cameron. I want to be a part of the decisions and changes we dare to dream up together."
Rafe's eyes hold yours, a moment of realization dawning upon him. "I see you," he says quietly, the weight of his oversight apparent in his tone. "I'm sorry I wasn't listening. Do you really want to leave? Is that what you truly want?"
His question, earnest and laced with vulnerability, hangs between you, but you shake your head gently. "No, I don't want to leave, Rafe. I just want... more. More involvement, more acknowledgment, and yes, maybe even a little more attention. But leaving? No. This place, with all its madness, is where I belong."
He exhales, the relief evident in the way his shoulders drop slightly, the rigid line of worry softening around his eyes. "Thank fuck for that," he says with a hushed intensity. "Because I can't imagine doing any of this without you. But let's agree on no more 'resignation stunts' in the future, yeah? It's bad press and only makes for bad business—besides, I doubt my heart can take it."
You nod, agreeing, a mischievous glint in your eye as if to say you’ll find another effective way to get right under his skin, because in the end you always do. “Fine. But for the record, I do have some ideas for my office too."
He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and he pulled you into a messy, loving kiss. "We'll discuss it at home, Mrs. Cameron. For now, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"
"Speak for yourself. You're the one with your dick hanging out."
With a shared laugh and a sweaty kiss, you both begin the task of putting the office—and yourselves—back together, the line between professional and personal wonderfully blurred.
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A/N - See guys I can do sweet 😈 I tried to keep the reveal until the end shhhh 🤭 Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please reblog as it supports writers. Until next time ❤️
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futureman · 6 months
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it's been so long
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pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader
summary: you and mike are well aware of your feelings for each other, but it's a line you won't cross. maybe it's time you finally did.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, close friend!reader, sharing a bed, first time together/getting together, fluff, smut, unprotected piv, creampie, nipple sucking, cockwarming, size kink, mentions of painful sex
word count: <1k
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"Mike. Come on, you know we can't."
"Well, you won't let me sleep on the couch, and I'm not letting you sleep on the couch, so what else is there?"
"I take the bus home and sleep in my own bed."
"It's 3 o'clock in the morning. That's not happening."
"Then, I'll sleep on the floor in Abby's room."
"That's not happening either."
You're running out of options, and you've already given Mike every excuse in the book why you can't share a bed tonight. You both know exactly what'll happen the moment you climb in, and that can't happen.
But you're exhausted after a hyperactive day of watching Abby and a visit from their mentally taxing aunt, and his flannel sheets look especially inviting. Mike does, too, with his thick biceps and thighs, bare and ready to envelop you when you inevitably give in.
"Fine. But we're sleeping, got it? Just sleeping."
"Of course," he says matter of factly. "C'mere."
You're on your back with his lips crashing onto yours seconds after you make your decision. You knew this would happen, and he apparently hoped it would, because when he nudges you onto your side, he's already hard against your back. All those months of dancing around each other were always going to lead to this.
To his mouth sucking possessive bruises into your neck and collarbones, trailing lower to tease your nipples one at a time. You always thought Mike would be an ass man, but the way he caresses the curve of your tits and drags his tongue across the hardened peaks like he's licking an ice cream cone makes you rethink that.
And he's so good at it. He could probably make you cum like this if he really wanted to, but he clearly doesn't. As long as he's waited for this? You know he wants to fuck it out of you. You've known that since the day you met him—at the mall, both fresh-faced and learning the ins and outs of being security guards together.
The tension was there then, and it's still here now. It's shocking either of you lasted this long.
Which makes it less shocking when his fully-hard cock slips between your thighs and drags steadily across your cunt until you're all but drooling. Slicking himself up, he teasingly notches at your entrance before slipping past to bump your clit.
He's making you so wet, you can hear it. You both can. Muted, wet squelching fills the room from under the covers, and his labored breathing quickly joins it, evolving into soft keening the longer he fucks between your folds.
"Mike...Mike—baby, you have to be quiet. We can't wake Abby up," you tilt your head to murmur into his curls.
Tonight, you learn he likes being called baby. So much so that all you get is a pained groan in warning before he sheaths himself to the hilt.
"S'fucking tight," he mumbles to himself against your shoulder blade as if that's enough to muffle his words. "Knew you'd be tight, goddamn."
And you knew he'd be big. He's thick and hot like molten lava inside you, as searing as his lips against yours as he starts to fuck you in earnest. It hurts like hell, the sweetest, syrupy pain, but if he doesn't fuck you harder soon, you're going to lose your mind. Or maybe you already have, because you actually said that out loud.
"Fuck—okay...okay, baby, I got you," he rasps into your shoulder, more wrecked than you've ever heard him.
You decide you like it when Mike calls you baby, too.
It only takes a few more mind-numbingly hard thrusts before you're gushing around him, making a mess of him and those soft sheets you've been looking forward to. He crushes you against his chest as you cum, one hand splaying across your stomach to feel the muscles contract and relax with every spasm of your lower walls.
Somehow, he feels even bigger now. You're so tight around him, it's making you feel delirious like all of this is just a dream. You had to have dreamed this up, right? Your dream boy in your dream scenario, babbling utter nonsense in your ear as he cums buckets inside you.
"...you...fucking hell. Waited—w-waited so...long. So long," he groans out in a garbled mess. "...forever."
While you struggle to process his words, still wracked with aftershocks, his thrusts get sloppier until he stills, buried as deep as he can go. Now, any hope of coherency is long gone. He pulses violently against your walls as he cums with a series of soft whines, emptying into you and overflowing down your thighs, joining the sticky patch you already left beneath you.
He doesn't pull out. Not even when you're passing out in each other arms, covered in sweat and fluids, and he's lazily running his fingers through the drying cum between your legs.
"Nothing has to change," he mumbles groggily into the nape of your neck. "If you...if—," he sighs, nuzzling into your hair to ground himself. "If you regret it, we can just go back to being friends. We can still be friends, right?"
No. After that, you really can't.
"Everything's changed," you counter softly. But that's a good thing. You feel warm and safe, and full in a way you weren't sure was even possible with Mike. But it's starting to seem like it could be. "Doesn't mean we can't still be friends. We can be more than friends, too...if you want—"
"Yes," he cuts you off, and that full feeling intensifies. "Yeah—yes, more than friends is good. Definitely good."
"Good. Now, go to sleep or you're getting exiled to the couch."
thanks for reading!
(divider by @saradika-graphics)
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strangerstilinski · 1 month
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𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨
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𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers
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It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.
And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.
Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-
You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.
“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It’s like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.
His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.
“What are you even talking abou-”
“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.
“Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”
“God, you are hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”
Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and the boy's chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.
“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”
“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I don't think any of us were that invested hearing you talk about the ‘big tip’ that some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”
“Steve, c'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.
“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.
“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugged, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet. It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”
“What, and just 'cause you're a jackass that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.
“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”
“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you as the rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”
“Well I don't care if some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “So, I guess, if that makes me an asshole-”
“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, and I'm able to do so without acting like a fucking-”
“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”
The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? That was the highlight of your day, because the rest of it had been a fucking disaster.
You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. You'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks squelching wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd burned yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had no choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.
“Y'know what? Fine.”
You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the turn in your evening.
“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”
“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, like he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”
There are protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm still struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.
“Hey! Wait up.”
Steve's voice does make you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around. Your steps finally come to a stop when he calls out to you again.
“C'mon, honey wait, wait, wait-”
You blow out a frustrated breath as he finally catches up with you, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.
“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that’s begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”
You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back around. You lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.
The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. There’s warmth seeping into your palms from beneath Steve’s tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from inside. Your eyes are level with his chin, wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You’re still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.
“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly.
It’s only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face smelling of the gum he’s always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he’s leaning in-
The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can’t think, and you’re not sure you’re even breathing, but his lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You’re gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve’s arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.
His tongue brushes against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.
Your head is a little fuzzy when your lips separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you’re gasping comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve’s quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the back of your neck.
“You kissed me.” The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.
“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”
His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — casual, tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he’s kissing you just because he can.
“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”
“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.
“Why-”
Kiss.
“Are you-”
Kiss.
“Kissing me?”
Steve’s breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D’you want me to stop?”
“No. Hell no.”
And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.
He looks so pretty like this, you think. The light shining above your heads catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.
You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.
“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to shut you up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.
His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”
You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Maybe we will.”
When his lips descend on your own again, it takes ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.
It’s like there are hearts in his eyes.
593 notes · View notes
temptaetions · 2 months
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angel eyes 🪽 b.cc (m)
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a/n: the photo above is from stray kids' skz magic school shoot. i don’t own the media. i clearly got carried away writing this, because it's so long. however, i hope you guys enjoy it. obviously none of this is real...so does accuracy matter?
✩ spellbound secrets series m.list
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✩ synopsis: you’ll think you’re in paradise, and one day you’ll find out he wears a disguise, don’t look too deep…
✩ genre: idiots to lovers | love epiphany au | teacher x student
✩ pairing: ??? b.cc x fem!compassion conjurer!reader
✩ word count: 21.6k | lowercase intended.
✩ rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.
✩ warning(s): quite a few time skips. minor character death, mentions of a car accident, semi descriptive. y/n has a scar across her body (not self inflicted, how it was inflicted is not described), both y/n and chan have unresolved issues with love, chan's kind of a dick in the beginning. swearing, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, brief mentions of blood, y/n has a medical episode, once more horribly written smut [between b.cc x reader: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!), creampie, oral (f. receiving...he starts eating it thru the panties LOL), so much kissing, some (nude) grinding, missionary (because i'm an emotional bitch), light nipple play (clothed), crying during sex, multiple orgasms, reader begs a lot, some biting, light choking (m. receiving), a bit of alluding to sex as 'extra credit' and subtly feeding the professor x student power dynamic]. (more information about y/n: she glows, kind of like a glowstick, and she can float around instead of walking.)
✩ what to listen to: angel eyes - abba | the chain - fleetwood mac | bodyache - purity ache | if it isn't love - new edition | cherish the day - sade
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tuesday – november 02.
it's slow, the fall. it feels like liebesträume.
feeling lost is an understatement. 
he's been lost before - in grocery stores, not understanding assignments. shit, he's even been lost in the woods before. he knows what it's like to be lost, physically. he knows what it's like to not know what his emotions mean, either, so that also counts in his book.
but this? this feeling that he's just wandering the world? not knowing where his purpose lies, or what he's meant to be doing with said unrealized purpose? this is a feeling of damn near disorientation, isolation, off fucking course. it's all the same anyway. everything is the same, nearly everyday.
he wakes up, brushes his teeth. greets changbin and hyunjin at the table for breakfast, and gets ready for the day. goes to class, daydreams. he comes home, has lunch with jisung sometimes, and goes to the gym with changbin at seven-thirty. every few fridays, he'll go to one of the university baseball games, cheering on seungmin and jisung while sharing nachos with his ex-fling, sooyoung, and her best friend (who so happened to be seungmin's former girlfriend.) then, he's home again, he showers, he sleeps for a few hours.
every. single. day.
he gets bored, but reminds himself he needs to find peace in the routine. it's all he knows – he doesn't know what's keeping him here, but he's aware it's something. everyone knows it's something, but have no answers for him. he's sought after so many master sorcerers across all dimensions, begging to find an end to his equation, but to no avail.
he has no idea who he is, or what purpose he serves, and he pretends he's okay with it. he soothes by saying that not all can be known.
he pretends it's fine as he goes through his days, as he goes to class, as he talks to girls. he doesn't feel much of anything when he does these things, but the women he speaks to certainly do. they grin from ear to ear, like cheshire cats, when they get a moment to speak to the uncertainty that is bang chan.
but, it's fine. he's fine, it's really not a big deal.
he's in his last year of grad school, hoping to just bury himself in his studies to stop the feeling of impending doom. normally, you open up shop right after undergrad. you offer your services, barter for goods, sometimes get paid in a goat and two chickens instead of money. so many of his friends have already done so, relishing in the satisfaction that is being a sorcerer and mastering their craft. 
what the fuck is he supposed to do? study until his fingers fall off and his brain becomes putty?
"i dunno, man. you could become a genius." jisung spoke around a mouthful of blueberries, and chan grimaced. "what? i'm bulking up!" shaking his head, chan closed his notebook. shoving it into his bookbag, he sighs. "i don't think i want to know everything there is to know, ji."
"doesn't knowing everything you need to know, start with knowing yourself?" minho teases from across the table, winking at jisung over his coffee cup. the younger boy nearly chokes, getting a whack across the back to aid in not seeing god. "don't flirt with him, he'll have an aneurysm." "hey!" jisung sputters, but the three of them know it's true. how jisung was the campus' playboy, no one would ever know. chan didn't even know if jisung could read when they first met. "you know it's true, ji. i gotta head out, i have a night class this semester with professor y/l/n, i finally got my schedule fixed. changbin is going to hate me because i'm going to miss the gym every tuesday and thursday." chan groans as he swings his bag over his shoulder, and the two men watch as he slides his headphones on, walking out of the library.
he's insufferable lately, and they don't know why. they assume he needs to kiss someone, preferably sooner rather than later.
"you think the poor guy knows what he's in for?" minho mumbles, closing his textbook. jisung shakes his head, popping another blueberry in his mouth. "i hear she's ruthless. i mean, if i was an anomalistic prodigy with gorgeous thighs like hers, i would be, too." "shut up, you can't even kill spiders."
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your classroom is surprisingly cozy as he strolls in. the lights are dimmed, and there are blankets draped across many chairs. he looks around, spotting a green couch in the back. raising his eyebrows, he makes a beeline for it, hearing other people start to trickle in.
setting up his laptop on the table before him, he lets his eyes wander.
the walls are plastered with entomology posters, and he scrunches his nose as he sees a taxidermied praying mantis on your desk. he remembers what you said in your speech at your commencement ceremony – "the people of ancient greece and egypt saw the praying mantis as a guide. a guide for those who needed direction, and my god, have i needed it. life truly does go on and i am further amazed by how deeply it fills me with joy to stand here before you. the people of ancient greece and egypt saw the praying mantis as a guide, and i am so honored to be the mantis that prays for you."
you were the university's little treat, their trophy to parade. their only compassion conjurer and possessor of the will to practice benevolent magic. you cared of nothing more but to help those around you, you never said no. you never denied yourself to be utilized to find peace. he admired you, but not really. it was twisted, but he thinks you should…help yourself. he believes you should be selfish, at least once in a while.
he didn't really know you, but he hadn't expected to, either. you seemed like you were constantly on the go. you floated about, sort of like a ghost. your hands often clasped behind your back, a warm golden glow surrounding you. he'd heard from some people that they've seen it change color, but he never has.
but again, he didn't know you.
"chan!"
the voice whips him out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see yugyeom. he smiles, reaching his hand out for a dap from his oldest friend. "hey! how have you been? still on the baseball team?" "nah, i quit after i started dating doyeon. apparently, she has quite the track record with the team." he whistles, pulling out his laptop as he slides on the couch. "you quit the team for a girl?" chan questions, and yugyeom gives him a shy smile.
"she's not just any girl, chan. i think…she could be the one." he shrugs, a blush coating his cheeks as chan bumps his shoulder. "aww, that's so gross."
"shut up. what happened with you and sooyoung? did you guys break it off?" yugyeom takes a sip of his water, and chan nods as he sees more people walk in and take their seats. "yeah, we stopped fucking around. i wasn't as emotionally invested as she was, and i felt awful for it but we ended on good terms. i'm just not ready for a relationship and i should have made that clear. that was months ago, though, and we're fine." he shrugs, and feels an odd shiver down his spine. he shakes it off, continuing the casual conversation with yugyeom.
the door opens, and they both stop talking to look up. you're floating in gracefully, dark hair framing your face, a few scattered gold strands sprouting at the crown of your head. a bit like a halo, really. long, wine red nails reach for the light switch, dimming the lights even lower.
"good evening, everyone. eyes up front, please." your voice is softer than at your ceremony, but just as confident. you're looking around, your glow dimming lightly as your eyes stop in his direction. chan's eyes flicker to yugyeom, who is smiling at his phone, thumbs typing rapid fire. shaking his head, he looks up at you, your gaze on yugyeom. chan bumps his foot, and his head shoots up. your eyes are slightly amused, "you're paying for this class. i suggest you pay attention." "sorry." he slides his phone in his jacket, and chan bites back a laugh as he clicks his pen. smiling, you redirect your attention. "welcome to identity theory! i'm professor y/l/n, but you guys can call me y/n. you might already know me, as i'm the university's only compassion conjurer, and that is exactly why i'm teaching this class." you hold up the syllabus, and begin walking around to pass them out.
"this is an extension course to the one you took in undergrad, self-discovery 101. here, we are going to further delve into ourselves, and figure out who we are outside of our powers, or what purpose they serve. i like to focus on eudaimonic theory, but if you guys have any others you want to talk about, i'm open for discussion. i also want to apologize for starting the class so late in the year. i promise the workload isn't much, i was just having a hard time deciding if i wanted to teach this class. i wouldn't be doing much soul searching with you guys, i'm already the trophy wife of the administration."
he likes your voice. it's smooth, unwavering even as you apologize and joke, even as you let your feet touch the ground. he feels his chest grow hot as you graze everyone's table with your fingers, a soft chatter beginning amongst the students. he's not nervous, but you're very commanding. he likes the way you grab attention, despite it now seemingly about to be directed to someone in the room.
"your eyes are very pretty." you stop in front of him, and the class grows quiet. you look down at him, the soft light around you a little brighter. he feels his cheeks flush, as he nods in confusion. "do they glow brighter the more i make you nervous?" you tease, and he looks away.
"cute." you slide his syllabus in front of him, and he takes it with a soft thank you.
his eyes were the only thing that gave him that something that people always mentioned. they swirled, every now and again, the brown glowing slightly violet at their own will. nobody knew what it was, but it seemed to take your interest. you move forward with the lecture, not even attempting to hide the subtle boredom in your voice as you go over the syllabus.
"i will see you all on thursday! have a safe night!" you cheer, and the students seem to bask in your happiness as you let them out of the room. you float about, and catch chan at the tail end of the gaggle of students. "you, pretty eyes."
his headphones are in the way, and you place your hand on his arm. his skin is warm to the touch, and he jumps at the contact before turning around, sliding them off. "oh, i'm sorry. did you need me?" "i just wanted to say, i hope my teasing didn't make you uncomfortable. sometimes it just slips out." you smile, and you notice one..two dimples make their presence on his cheeks. "don't worry, it's alright. is that all?" "no, actually." you hold up his file, and he seems to know exactly what's coming. "i don't know my abilities, if that's what you're going to ask. and i won't answer any questions about my parents, that's also in there."
his eyes hold something heavy, and you notice your glow dim as he speaks. if he does, he doesn't mention it. "alright, then i guess that's it. i'm sorry if i disturbed some emotional blockage." your brows furrow lightly, and he raises his own.
"whatever." he mumbles, and slides his headphones back on. he walks away, and you feel your lips tug into a frown. you wonder what his problem is as you walk back into your classroom, sliding the file into your desk drawer.
"you try and make a classroom a home." 
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thursday – november 12.
hello, chan. this is professor y/l/n. i noticed you didn't show up to class last thursday, tuesday, or tonight.
i took it upon myself to look into your file again, with permission from the administration. i want to apologize for the sudden hot seat on tuesday after class, i was unaware of your situation and just wanted some insight. i can see how this made you uncomfortable, and i am sorry for causing said discomfort. i want you to be able to enjoy my class, and hopefully we can traverse that journey together.
that being said, i have come up with a new assignment for you, for the time being. since you don't really know what your specialties are, i can't grade based on performance or any papers delving into how they affect your life, personality, etc.
below is the rubric designed for this assignment. i spoke to the administration, and they're on board with this approach. if anything is too much, please don't hesitate to send me an email, or a text. my number is also below. have a good weekend!
signed,
y/n y/l/n
identity theory
spellbound institute of magic
psychology department
555-8212
he's been staring at this email for the last half hour. he even let hyunjin read over it, asking if he was seeing shit.
he'd skipped your class on thursday, and today. he didn't want to see you, so he avoided the psych hall altogether. he didn't really know how to feel as he switched tabs to the rubric you'd sent, essentially just saying you wanted an essay on how he's been coping with not being sure of his path in life.
how does he feel about it? does it bother him, and if he could pick, which abilities would he pick? his brain says the ability to never see you again, but his heart pangs as he rereads the postscript at the bottom of your email.
p.s. i am once again very sorry. i hope to see you in class on thursday, channie. - y/n
channie. ugh, his heart ached. he'd been so rude.
"you're thinking too hard." changbin sings from the living room, and chan sighs. "how would you know? you can't read minds." he rolls his eyes, shutting his laptop. changbin walks into the dining room, leaning over the back of a chair. "i know that look. the furrowed brows, the pout. you're thinking way too hard about this, and it was an honest mistake on your professor's part. you need to apologize, you grumpy bitch." "yeah, i don't really think it's a huge deal, either." hyunjin chimes in from the kitchen, and chan frowns. "you guys think i'm being overdramatic?" "i think your emotional repression is getting to you, you've been so insufferable lately. when's the last time you got laid?" hyunjin teases as he slides into a chair, and changbin wiggles his brows in agreement. "ugh, don't even." chan slumps his head against the wall. maybe seven months? he has a lot of pent up frustration. maybe not enough to write about his feelings and how annoyed it made him that you were digging into his life this early into him meeting you. what did you need to know, anyway? "isn't your professor that compassion conjurer paradigm? i heard the speech she gave at the convention last year, and i saw the photos. she's gorgeous, that glow around her all the time?" changbin whistles smoothly, and chan's stomach does a flip. he also saw the photos, but couldn't bring himself to think anything of them. he barely remembers watching your speech, too, but he certainly remembers the way your hips swayed as you walked off the stage.
he grimaces, feeling a bit gross at ogling you.
"she's fine." he shrugs, and changbin gives hyunjin a knowing look. "so, she's hot and you're into her. that's why she has you so worked up."
"i beg your finest fucking pardon, seo?" chan blinks, and hyunjin smirks. "then beg, channie. i'm sure professor y/l/n would like it if you did, she seems like the type. get on some dating apps, man. you need stress relief." chan scoffs, shoving his laptop into his backpack. "i'll be in my room, if you decide to stop talking about romancing my professor."
hyunjin and changbin snicker as chan storms off, his door slamming behind him as he flops onto his bed. sure, you were…okay. okay, you're hot. you're so fucking hot.
but, he doesn't like you. he doesn't like that you put him on the spot, and he doesn't like that you intended to ask so many personal questions right off the bat. he also doesn't like that his roommates are probably right – he probably is angry because he needs to get laid.
he groans into his pillow, fishing his phone out of his pocket. he unlocks it, opening the stupid app. "spellbound soulmates, how dumb." he mutters, unpausing his profile. he goes through it, updating photos and prompts. once he's satisfied, he goes to his deck.
left. left. left. left. right. right. left. left.
y/n, 26
compassion conjurer, benevolence magic
biography: sexy as fuck by day, sexy psych prof by night. everything you've heard is true.
interests: if your ass is phat, swipe right 🥵
his eyes widen, your smiling face staring back at him. scrolling through your profile, he sees mostly modest photos – you holding a tray of shots being the most scandalous. not a sliver of skin showing above your waist, but plenty of short skirts showing off your full thighs. you're smiling in every photo, but he can't think of anything except your lips parted, your thighs around his head. moaning his name.
alright, chris. he thinks. chill the fuck out.
he contemplates it for a bit, scrolling up and down your profile when he just shakes his head, closing the app and tossing his phone to the side. he flips onto his back, letting the pillow close around his ears.
he hates to admit it, because he doesn't know you. he doesn't dislike you, per say. but he's not very fond of your subtle insistence.
it's not necessarily your fault, but he really doesn't like talking about his family, especially his parents. only his friends know, and even then, it took all of four years to even bring it up. the fact that they're humans is a huge deal, and he can't risk their safety like that.
not to mention, admissions begged him to keep it a secret. they were toeing the line, chan being the third person in the university's history to have human parents. they knew about the world of magic, but didn't really have the abilities to take care of chan the way it was necessary.
so they didn't. they sent him to boarding school from a young age, and made it a point to frequently visit him. he sees them at least four times a year, but it's never enough time. he feels like he's missing a place to call home. 
he feels so alone.
it's not your fault. and he knows he needs to apologize. he just has too much pride right now.
he hears a knock, and changbin opens the door. "hey, what are you doing? i'm going to the gym, want to come with?" chan sighs, before forcing himself out of bed.
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tuesday – november 17.
he's sitting on your couch today.
legs spread, hair tucked under a cap. black, like the rest of his clothes. he looks relaxed, his fingers dancing across his laptop as yugyeom shows him something on his phone. he just nods, and you can't make out what his lips say. 
you'd been feeling terrible about the events of last week, and hadn't gotten so much as an email from him. not about the assignment, not about how he clearly hates you, or even addressing your apology. you didn't understand him, but you don't know him, either.
the past three classes, you'd gotten to know your students. minnie, soyeon and shuhua were your favorite (and only) group, giggling in the corner over their laptops. they were all herbomancers, and you could tell simply based on how giggly they were. they chatted, and last thursday, shuhua was so high she just sat against her chair and stared into the abyss. you found it a little funny, when soyeon and minnie would have to drag her out of your class.
mingyu was a constant flirt, and you attributed it to his matchmaking expertise. he was one of the few cupidancers on campus, and you'd seen him about before. he had the ability to entrance people, to get them high off his attention, and you often saw girls with hearts in their eyes after speaking to him. it was quite the sight, to see someone emotionally orgasm. the fact that you were his professor didn't stop him from smiling at you, making suggestive comments, overall trying to weasel into your heart. you simply played his game, making him flustered.
yugyeom was too enthralled with his phone, and his girlfriend, to complete the assignments. the fact that minnie had slid eighty dollars his way told you his spirit weaving ways were some for the books – and so did minnie – as she rambled about a party at beta tau that past weekend. "you should come sometime, y/n. you'd get so wasted but it'd be so worth it."
you liked that they felt so at ease with you, speaking to you like you were nothing special. you liked being their age, being able to relate to the crazy parties and not worry about how you'd get home the morning after. you enjoyed the intimacy of the small class, but not the coldness surrounding who you would deem your most intriguing student.
he just sits there and he looks so nice. the slope of his neck, the way his fingers bounce on the keys of his laptop. the sheen of his lips from the cherry lip balm he applies three or four times over the two hours of your class. the way your hue almost changes from gold to pink from staring at him, and you know you catch some of their eyes as it tries.
"why do you glow, y/n?" you can hear minnie's hazy voice from the back of the room, and you feel yourself a bit dimmer than usual as you fight down the feelings of lust. "i actually don't know. the master sorcerers never told me, but i know it can be several different colors. care to ask me what they mean?" you wiggle your brows, and minnie giggles.
"pink means you're turned on, huh?" mingyu calls from his seat between shuhua and soyeon, earning a smack from both of them. you chuckle as he pouts, "what? i hooked up with a compassion conjurer last year in the second dimension, forgive me for assuming." "i thought you were bitchless, gyu? what a nice surprise, loverboy." shuhua teases, and mingyu just rolls his eyes. "well, he's not wrong."
their heads whip back to you, and you're purposely glowing gold. you're glad they don't make it weird, their eyes full of glee. "i know those sex flashbacks gotta be good, y/n." minnie giggles, and sighs dreamily. "i once got one in undergrad during the ochem final. i ran out of time and failed."
you laugh, floating closer to their table. "the colors mean a lot of things. i can also change them at will, if one isn't overpowering the other. the hues and brightness also amplify how i feel, which makes it really hard to hide any of my thoughts. for example," you pause, closing your eyes. you feel the warmth of blue overtake you, and hear a soft ooh. 
opening your eyes, you give a quick spin. "blue means i'm sad, disappointed, or at ease. i rarely get this one, it usually happens when i'm with my closest friends and can act on impulse."
the quartet looks amazed as you continue to change colors, explaining them slowly.
green, for envy, and disgust. you also rarely turn this color, and it is amongst the most dim that you've ever been. pink, for lust. you say it's your favorite color, but not your favorite feeling. orange for anger, and you recall that you only turned this color when in your mother's presence, and that you hated this one. silver, for remembrance and emptiness, and they don't require an explanation as the light grows brighter, your face deepening in sadness before you shake your head.
you exhale, before letting the cold of indigo overtake you. they gasp, and you feel shivers rack your body before you can finally speak.
"this is the only one i don't understand. i can make it seem darker, too." you say calmly, eyeing the dimness of it. it glowed almost like a blacklight, and at your will, it turned a deep violet, lining your extremities in black pixels. "have you ever felt it before?" soyeon pops a piece of gum in her mouth, offering a piece to you. taking one gently, you shrug as you unwrap it.
"nope. this one feels cold, though. the others feel warmer, like a blanket. this is like, sub-zero temperatures." you slide the piece into your mouth, feeling your golden glow return as you speak. "that's so cool, though. thank you for sharing." shuhua is gazing at you, fondness riddled in her eyes. you feel your cheeks heat, as you smile.
"my pleasure. class is over in twenty minutes, so wrap up whatever it is you're doing and i might let you guys dip out early." you nod at them, floating in the direction of yugyeom and chan. looking up from your gum wrapper, you see chan looking at you intently, his eyes slightly swirling with that same violet glow from tuesday.
"hey, pretty eyes. so kind of you to grace us with your presence today." your teasing makes him grimace, a hint of annoyance flashing through his eyes. "paying for the class, might as well pay attention." he mutters, echoing the first words you said to yugyeom.
your brows furrow at his attitude, and you watch yugyeom slip away, beckoned by minnie with a piece of pink paper. chan glances at you, closing his laptop and shoving it in his bag with indignance. "why are you acting like this? i already apologized." you feel your glow flash orange, before feeling the soft tinge of blue creeping up your back. his eyes are still violet, but they've softened. "i'm just trying to help you, chan."
"i don't think you can help, when you're part of the problem." he mumbles, his gaze never moving from your eyes. you sense blue creeping up your neck, and succumb to it, letting it blaze. "how disappointing, for a teacher to try and aid you in finding your path of life." your annoyance is visible as you spin, directing your attention to the gaggle of students watching your interaction. soyeon's eyes are wide as you dismiss them, asking them to please let the door close instead of leaving it propped open.
the words aren't even out of your mouth when you hear the door slam, yugyeom pitiful eyes confirming your thoughts. they begin to stand up, heading for the door when yugyeom splits from them, circling back to you.
"don't worry about chan. he's being a dick, it's not your fault." he places a hand on your shoulder, and you give him a sad smile. "i know, yug. i know."
a soft squeeze to your shoulder and he's gone, you're alone in your room. you sigh deeply, letting the most overwhelming hue of all take over.
the same dark red you felt all those years ago, letting it overwhelm you entirely. you sink into your desk chair, letting the soft burn of grief sink into your skin. you can close your eyes and still see it, the wine color in front of you. the one that matches your nails, and on occasion, your lipstick. the one that makes you ache the most, and yearn for those who are no longer here.
you miss him.
just like you miss chan's wide eyes, not having heard the creak of the wooden door in your turmoil. he slips away.
— ☆ — — ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —
later that night, you're sitting in your bathtub, letting the hot water relax your muscles. you hear your phone ping, and you reach for it.
hello, professor y/l/n. i have read your email a few times since it was sent.
i accept your apology. i also accept this assignment, and will submit it as my final project grade, as per the rubric allows.
that being said, i will not be in class on thursday due to a prior commitment. feel free to email me back with any questions you may have, only those regarding the assignment will be answered.
signed,
bang christopher chan
spellbound institute of magic
general magic
you glare at the email, and let orange flicker like the light of your limoncello candle. you made no effort to question it, simply letting it slide. you send back an automated reply, sounds good! have a good weekend.
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thursday – november 19.
chan hated meeting his parents in secret.
like it were a crime, to want to see them. he hated acting like it didn’t bother him that his siblings were growing up and he didn’t know them, he didn’t know what they liked, or what they did for fun. he felt so left out of everything, but still framed the photos they sent him. he still tucked their letters in a box for safe keeping, he still yearned to be loved by them.
not that they didn’t love him, but obviously it’s hard to do so from a distance. so they sit in the middle of the forest that surrounds the university, exactly 50 miles from all civilization. they sit there, for hours, and catch up.
“any luck yet?” his father peers at chan over a steaming plate of food, and he shakes his head. “no answers yet. if i don’t find out before the end of the semester, the master sorcerers said they’d figure something out.”
his mother sighs, her spoon stirring the canteen that held her warm coffee. "it'll be alright soon, channie. have you focused on other things? maybe find a nice girl to settle down with?" his father watches as chan visibly tenses, before pulling his wife close. "jagi, maybe that's for another time." she grimaces.
"i disagree. if he's having issues with other parts of his life, he needs to put it on the back burner for a second and figure out other parts. when you can't find a piece of a puzzle, you pick another part to focus on, do you not? the goal of life is to not let one bad thing, or one disappointing moment deter you from finding the answer to your qualms." she rolls her eyes, earning a smile from her husband.
"okay, she has a point." his father relents, and chan just shakes his head. "i'm not ready for a relationship.' "what about that girl, sooyoung?" his mother won't back down and he knows that. "moving on from my love life, i'm content. i'm fine with things, i have my friends, i have my studies. i'll get an answer eventually." he shrugs, trying not to let it show how much it gets to him.
"chan." she slides her arm across the picnic table, grasping his hand gently. "you're not happy. you can't possibly be, with all the turmoil you feel. you're like an angsty teenager who has never stepped outside his room." "yeah, well. life goes on." he mutters, and she feels her heart sink as he pulls his hand away, checking the time on his watch. "i think i'd better start heading back. i have an early day tomorrow." he's lying. they know it, but they begrudgingly allow him to bid them goodbye. they watch him 
walk to his car, and flash his hi-beams as a final farewell before pulling off.
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thursday - november 26.
it's been about a month since chan started taking your class. 
and it's been about a month since he's been able to say a single word to you without the same tone of indignance on the tip of his tongue. seeing him look indifferent in the back of your classroom made it all the better, though, because at least now he was in class. he didn't speak to you unless you spoke to him first, but he was on time and attentive.
you liked something about him, but you didn't really know what. it's quite possible you just have a little lustful wishing for him, but it felt…weird. it felt strange, you could practically feel your skin on fire every time you glanced at him, catching his eyes every once in a while. he never held the gaze for longer than a few seconds. 
as for his violet eyes, you hadn't seen them since. you saw him smile with yugyeom. you've heard him laugh, the sound so sweet to your ears. you hated that your glow was so evident when his giggle resounded in the classroom.
you thought nobody noticed, the students didn't treat you any differently than their own friends. soyeon, minnie and shuhua made it a point to start inviting you out to drinks, and mingyu flirted with you relentlessly. you simply took the interactions in stride, and smiled politely as you kept the lectures going.
but tonight? chan wasn't in class (again) so you didn't have anyone to fawn over. mingyu was front and center, and the girls gathered around him as they conspired amongst themselves. they weren't very secretive, and you could hear them giggling as you floated over.
"what's the joke? i want to laugh, too." you teased with a soft smile, and mingyu flashed you his pearly whites before turning his phone at you.
message from: doyeon
[9:03pm] hey mingyu! tell yug i'm waiting for him at the party, and bring the girls with you!
[9:04pm] see if you can convince your professor to come, too 👀 i've seen her and she's hot! maybe she can take eunwoo off our hands, i'm sick of him moping over jisoo
you chuckle, your glow brightening a bit. "you guys want me to go to a party, at a frat house, on a school night?" shuhua nods her head, a giggle falling from her lips. "c'mon, y/n! live a little, there's going to be so many cute boys there." 
"yeah, y/n! plus, a little bird told me a certain purple eyed boy will be there." minnie wiggles her brows at you, and you smirk. "yeah? chan skipped my class for a party?" you glance at his empty spot on the couch, your glow dimming.
"c'mon, y/n. we all know you have the hots for him." mingyu says matter-of-factly, and you laugh. "i do not! he doesn't even speak in class, i don't know anything about him." you shrug, and mingyu smirks. "i've seen the way you look at him!" minnie chimes in, and you shake your head. "so what if you don't? he's hot and you're into that. he has nice muscles, i've seen him at the gym." mingyu sounds like he's trying to convince you, and you give him a smile before patting his shoulder. his cheeks tinge as you whisper, "are they as nice as yours?" soyeon teases mingyu as you float away, and their words stay with you as the class continues for another forty minutes. you type away at your desk as you bid them goodbye, but don't miss minnie sneaking away from her group to hand you a piece of pink paper.
"the address, in case you do want to see chan tonight." she slides it across the desk, a shy smile playing on her lips as she walks away. you glance at it, grimacing at the beta tau seal.
you sigh, pulling your phone to map the walk there from your apartment, receiving a text from your friend, jihyo.
message from: jihyo <3
[9:55pm] hey, you! come with me to a party, i want to scout for booty tonight 👀 i heard beta tau is having one
message to: jihyo <3
[9:57pm] funnily enough, i was about to text you, i got an invite. captain booty reporting for duty 🫡 wear something hot!
— ☆ — — ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —
the party was already in full swing when you and jihyo arrived, pinkies linked. it was apparently a student's birthday party, a short stop on the baseball team. you didn't keep up with the university's sports, but managed to snag a piece of birthday cake in a cup (meaning you dumped the rest of the pink whitney into your cup, and a splash of lemonade) as you let jihyo roam.
"y/n, you made it! you look so hot." you hear minnie from behind you, and you swirl to see her holding onto mingyu. "hey, guys! sick party, my friend jihyo also wanted to come." you shrug, taking a sip from your cup, and minnie gives you a knowing smile.
"hey, don't worry about it. lover boy hasn't kissed anyone since he's been here." minnie moves her head in the direction behind you, and you twist to see chan holding a red solo cup and talking to another student, short with wire rimmed glasses, and a waist you could only dream of. you turn back to minnie, who just winks at you before pulling mingyu away with her.
your body twists to look at chan, trailing your eyes down his figure. he's got on a white muscle tee, and mingyu had not been lying about his body at all. his chest donned what seems to be a rosary, nestled between his pecs that bounced lightly as he laughed. a sliver of his lower stomach was visible, mostly covered by a jacket he likely took off, but the red on the lapels looked good against his skin. silver hoops looped through his lobes and if you didn't sink your teeth into him soon, you were going to combust.
you don't have a crush on chan. not in the slightest. but, you're not blind.
you decided to worm your way to the bathroom, but you didn't realize his friend had spotted you staring. nor that chan's eyes were on you now, wondering what you were doing at a party on a school night, in that short black skirt and soft, flimsy blouse – with no bra. his eyes roll, asking himself why you manage to torture him this way. your coat is long, and covers most of your thighs as you walk away. he winces at the twitch of his cock against his pants.
"professor! what are you doing here!" you hear yugyeom shout from across the room, eliciting a woo from all the people at the party. you smile, and hold up your cup. "hey, yug!"
he waves you over, and you oblige, downing the rest of your drink. "here, try this! i made it." he holds up a long, brown bottle – and you smirk, letting him pour it into your mouth. a bunch of students are watching you down this burning liquor without a second thought, a low whistle emitting from one in particular.
tall, handsome. nicely chiseled face, hair slicked back. barely dressed. slutty.
not chan.
"who invited the trophy wife of the administration? that was hot as fuck." he leans on soyeon, who huffs and shoves him off. "shut up, san."
minnie screams before you can answer. "i invited her! she's cool as fuck, drinks up and tits out for professor y/l/n! wooo!" the crowd that had formed around you took their drinks, a few girls flashing their breasts at you. you let a laugh rip through you when you spot jihyo smiling at you in the crowd before knocking back the rest of her drink. you point to the hallway, signaling you're going to continue your way to a bathroom, before you suffocate on the smell of buchanan's and cheap beer.
the house gets quieter the deeper you go, aside from soft moans coming from a linen closet, obscene wet noises making you shiver as you turn left, finding a clean bathroom. you leave the door slightly ajar as you splash cool water on your cheeks. you let it drip through your lashes before you grab for the toilet roll, only to see someone slip into the bathroom in the mirror. 
"hey." chan's voice is low as you pat the toilet paper on your face, and you glance at him. "hey. skipped my class for a party, huh?" "what are you doing here?" he doesn't sound upset, moreso amused. his eyes shamelessly rake up your legs, and you give a snort in reply. "minnie invited me, and my friend jihyo wanted to scope out some ass." 
"yeah?" his eyes flicker to yours in the mirror, the violet swirl evident, and you feel your thighs clench in his gaze. your glow starts to change hues, and you roll your eyes as you glow pink instead of your normal yellow. "yeah. why, channie? are you here looking for babes?" you turn, letting the liquor talk as you lean against the sink.
"would it bother you if i was?" he tilts his head, sort of like a lost puppy. you smirk, shaking your head. "why would it bother me if my student wants to get some?" "do you always play this little game with your students, professor?" he takes a step closer, and you curse yourself for glowing a little brighter, but shrug as nonchalantly as you can. "beats being uptight like professor callaghan."
"god, you're so right." he chuckles, before his hands cage you in between his body and the sink. "i bet this glow thing gets really annoying, huh?" "you have no idea." you look up into his eyes, subconsciously tucking your bottom lip under your teeth. you wonder why he’s not questioning the color change, maybe he just knows, maybe he was listening last week. you wonder how many girls he’s gotten with, and how many he’s romanced with those angel eyes of his. "you look good." he says gently, almost as if he's giving you an out. almost as if, he's nervous.
"i taste good, too." you mumble, ghosting your lips over his. you can feel your skin start to singe, but you let him kiss you anyway. you let him lift you onto the sink, parting your legs to stand between them. you let him run his hands up your plush thighs, leaning into the kiss as deep as you can without completely absorbing him.
“can’t you get in trouble for this?” chan doesn’t really care, to be honest. you can tell he doesn’t as he drags his lips down your neck, his fingers tugging your skirt up gently. “hmm, no. not me, anyway. trophy wife of the administration privileges.” 
he laughs against your skin, and you give him a cheeky smile as he kisses your lips again, his thumbs gently working circles into your hips. “i don’t want to do this here. let’s find a room, yeah?” "mmm, i don't think so. students who don't participate in class don't get extra credit." you pout, patting his chest when your phone buzzes in your pocket.
message from: jihyo <3
[11:47pm] saw you dip with cutie, so i cozied up to that mingyu guy
[11:48pm] going back to his, u can get home safe?
[11:49pm] i'll turn around if u can't. bros before hoes 💪🏻
message to: jihyo <3
[11:51pm] go ahead <3 txt me deets l8r he's a massive flirt lol
you slide it back into your pocket, and chan's hands leave your skin. he quietly moves your skirt back into place, and his eyes flicker to meet yours. he doesn't look upset at your rejection, moreso a bit grateful. "you're cute. you ask too many questions, and i'm still upset with you, but you're incredibly cute."
it's just the liquor talking. he won't remember any of this, or change his behavior by tuesday. he seems to hold grudges, but you know it's really just emotional blockage. nothing you can't help with, but everything he won't let you help with.
"maybe come to class and i might let you cum in me. you'd like that, wouldn't you?" you mumble against his lips, a shiver going through his spine. "let me walk you home." he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours. you feel your stomach flip, the gesture so cute you just might let him sleep with you. you capture his lips again, sliding your hand up his chest, fingers softly wrapped at the base of his neck. his hand catches your wrist, sliding it higher.
you give it a soft squeeze as you slither your tongue into his mouth, drawing a soft groan from him. he pulls back, your lips chasing after him as he raises an eyebrow. "who's needy now, huh?" "shut up, let's go." you place a peck to his cheek, and you force your glow back to gold, albeit dimmer than normal. he has his hand on the small of your back as you exit the bathroom. he slides it around your waist, his fingers softly digging into your hip before he stops dead in his tracks. "what?"
you're whispering as you follow his eyes, seeing a blond guy in a baseball jersey staring back at him as he sneaks out of the closet you passed. a girl is gripping his hand, floating behind him. the guy turns on his heels, quickly weaving his way through the people crowding the hall, the girl giving a hazy smile as he drags her through.
"in a closet? really?" he shakes his head, and you feel his hand squeeze your waist. "sorry." "no worries. could've been us if you showed up to class." you tease as he guides you through the crowd, and you spot minnie watching you sneak your way through the people. she wiggles her eyebrows, and you just shake your head as chan opens the front door, letting you out first as he grabs his jacket from his friend.
"shit, it's colder than a witch's tits out here." you chatter, and chan quickly joins you on the porch, sliding the jacket over his arms. "it really is. which way do you live?" the walk is quiet, besides the leaves crunching under your shoes. he's close enough that his cologne meets your nose, but not close enough to where you can touch him and not be overdoing it. the taste of his lips was not enough to satiate you.
"why are you so mean to me?" you ask, not daring to look at him. he hums in response, before grabbing your shoulders, swinging his arm over you. you instinctively wrap your own around his waist, your fingers brushing the same sliver of skin you'd eyed earlier that night. you're burning up against him, and he welcomes the heat as your hips bump.
"i'm normally not this uptight." he starts, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "i don't like answering questions about my personal life, much less my abilities. or lack thereof, rather. it was too soon when you asked, i'm still trying to figure myself out. i'm very lost in that area of my life, and if i don't find out soon, i'm not sure how i'll make a living. please don't think i'm only this way with you, i'm just feeling stuck. it's like i'm running out of time." you take in his words, nodding silently. you know your magic is taking over him as he speaks, because you feel your glow dimming more and more as you keep walking. "i don't know what that feels like, chan. i'm sorry, genuinely. i truly do want you to understand that i am here to help as much as i can, not just as a professor but as…a friend, i guess." "mmh, i don't think you can help." he squeezes your arm gently as you make a left turn. "i'm too far gone, i believe. i thought about what you said, the emotional blockage thing. and i know that you're using your fingers to seep your funky little magic into me so i talk about myself and get things moving for your peace of mind." his fingers pat yours lingering on his hip, and you sheepishly go to move them.
he holds them in place, as you guide him to the gate of your complex. "i don't mind talking to you, or answering your questions. i really, really admire you as a person and sorceress. the selflessness, you're one of the kindest people i've ever had the pleasure of meeting. you just have to give me some time to warm up to you."
he stops in front of the gate, letting you punch in the code before sliding his arm off your shoulders. "i want to apologize for my behavior. i know i've been increasingly bitchy and standoffish, i'm just stressed. i'm sorry, and i'm sorry for taking it out on you. i know you're just trying to help."
"won't you come in? it's rather late and i'd hate to have you walk back alone." your eyes are slightly pleading, and he raises a brow. "are you sure?" 
you shrug, holding the gate open. he walks past you, not comfortable enough to slide his arm over you once more. he feels the warmth of you as you float past, and he follows quietly. unlocking the door, his eyes peer into your apartment, and it's just like your classroom. 
the lights are dimmed, and your couch is the same velvety green. it smells like bambinella pear and bergamot, and your walls are littered with photos and articles. many of them penned by you, he notices, as he skims them. "feel at home?" you chuckle, and he hears the rustling of your coat as you slip it off.
"mhm, it smells nice in here." he nods as he continues observing articles, before bumping into your side table. he looks down and sees a newspaper from seven years ago, a smiling face staring back at him.
spellbound prodigy involved in an automobile accident puts the world of wizardry at risk.
he skims the paper, seeing your name repeated over and over again but yet, no mention of the person in the photo. no age, no name.
"oh, you found that?" you're behind him, and you take hold of the paper, letting it droop over your hands. "who is that?" you sigh, your fingernail tracing the man's face. "minhwi. he was my best friend from primary school until the summer of 2017. that's when the accident happened." setting the paper back down, you pat the picture before floating to the kitchen, your golden glow gone as it begins to turn dark red.
"it's grief, the hue." you wave your hand at yourself as chan leans against the island, his eyes softening as you pour water in a glass, sliding it to him. the color dims as you turn to him, sitting on the bar stool. "i know, you're wondering how i'm involved in the accident."
chan looks down, and you let out an airy chuckle. "god, i hate talking about this." you rub your thighs, before looking up. "he told me he was in love with someone, and i encouraged him to make the hour drive to see her. i even offered to tag along, even though it was into the human world."
you're nervous, and chan can feel it. he rounds the island, sliding onto the stool beside you. you twist to face him as he takes your hands in his. how cute, you think.
"there was a really bad thunderstorm, but minhwi literally used to race cars for money. rain or shine, he was an expert behind the wheel. he won so many, and i was there for almost all of them. he called me his biggest cheerleader." chan's thumb wipes at your face, and you hadn't even known you were crying. you feel your chest ache as his hand lingers, before dropping back to your lap. "lightning struck one of the oak trees lining the backway route into town. minhwi tried to swerve out of the way, and we wound up spinning out. the tree landed on the car, and the weight crushed us, and there was glass everywhere. he died on impact."
you sniffle, and chan's eyes are glossy as he clears his throat. "and you blame yourself?" "absolutely." nodding, you interlace your fingers with chan's. "and the fact that i survived and he didn't, it kills me inside. it's not like he would've been able to, he was a…" you trail off, and chan's eyes match yours in size.
"...he was human." he finished, and you can't look at him. "you exposed the world of magic and our practices, to a human." you stay silent, before his arms envelope you in a hug. the burn you feel is almost debilitating, but you feel blue crawling up your neck as he rubs your back softly. "i'm sorry for your loss, y/n."
"that's it?" you blurt, and he laughs against your neck like he did earlier. "yeah, it's not like i can judge you, and it's not like humans don't know we exist. we're just frowned upon, it's not a crime to involve yourself with them. love makes us do crazy things." he pulls back, and you let blue overtake you. "i'm genuinely sorry about your friend. he sounds like he was a great time." "he was. i haven't talked about him since. all i have left is the scars from the accident." you shrug, taking a sip of your water. "scars?"
you flash a smile at him, before shaking your head. "just know, if i ever do let you in my pants, the shirt stays on, not because i'm insecure but because i hate looking at them."
he nods, a shy look crossing his eyes before he closes them. "can i ask you for a favor? before you go to bed, i mean?" "sure, anything." you tuck your hair behind your ears, sitting up. "that emotional blockage you spoke about, you can…remove that, right? i'm not too sure what your powers are." he mumbles as he picks at his nails, and you smile. "i can. would you like me to do that for you?" his eyes look to yours, and you see fear flash through them. "it doesn't hurt, channie. come on, i can do it right now." you slide off the stool, holding your hand out to him. he takes your hand, but instead of following you, he pulls you towards him.
your chest is flush to his, and you see a subtle blush on his cheeks as he dips his head, lips brushing against yours. you relax in his hold, letting your lips mold against his. you can't feel anything but heat and his tongue teasing yours, but it's no big deal (you're trying to convince yourself at this point.) his hands move to hold your face, his fingers burning your skin when he pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours.
"not tonight, i don't think i'm ready." he whispers against your lips, and you open your eyes to look into his hazy ones. nodding, you press another chaste kiss on his mouth. "whenever you're ready, channie. i'll be here."
"i'll take the couch." he plants one last kiss on your forehead, and you nod. "if you insist. goodnight, channie." "goodnight, y/n." he watches your glowing form trail down the hall, likely towards your bedroom.
and he sees a hint of indigo spreading across your back as you shut the door behind you.
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tuesday ��� december 15.
chan is a lot nicer as the next two weeks go by. still shows up to class, even early, since your escapade after the party. he finds himself staring at you more often than not, and you're not the only one who notices.
minnie often slips you knowing looks, and you find yourself growing shy as you look to see chan peeking at you over his laptop, eyes glowing that bright violet you've come to adore.
"alright, everybody. have a good weekend!" you smile cheerfully as they file out, your glow now bright blue. the girls had mentioned you looked much more relaxed these days, and you attributed it to 'more sleep.'
you didn't really know what it was. you'd woken up glowing indigo the day after the party, and almost everyday after that. you flickered indigo when you caught chan in the hallway before class on tuesday, and when he hung back a little too long on thursday. really, if you even glanced at chan, you'd flash the dark color and leave the students rubbing at their eyes.
chan, on the other hand, was constantly looking for ways to talk to you.
he saw the flustered flickering, the confusion of your body as it glitched from hue to hue. at one point you had splotches of indigo, pink and your natural gold all over you. you still flirted back at mingyu's advances, albeit he calmed down noticeably. he observed that mingyu was on his phone more often, and you later found out through minnie that he was utterly romanced by jihyo. you thought it funny, and teased him about it (and jihyo, the next time you saw her for coffee and pastries.)
"hey, can we talk?" chan is standing behind you as you wave off your students, and you jump at the closeness. "sure, channie. what's up? is this about your final project?"
it wasn't an unreasonable question. the semester was coming to an end, the students looked visibly stressed and you hadn't heard of any parties since.
but, you knew it was unreasonable for your situation with chan. you never missed his longing glances at your lips, or the fact that he was early to class. his friends changbin and jisung often trailed behind him as he walked to class, and he only introduced you to them because they wouldn't stop badgering him at the doorway. "she's even prettier up close," jisung had said dreamily, and you just gave him a soft smile as you watched him bump into the doorframe.
"not really? maybe." he rubs his neck, and you tilt your head. "what's going on?" 
"uh, i think i'm ready. for what we talked about…the night of the party." he swallows thickly, and you feel taken aback. "oh? what brought this on?" you float to the back, patting the same couch he sits in during class. you tuck your legs under you, holding your head up with the wall. his knees brush yours as he sits, and you wince at the heat you feel in your chest.
"i started the essay you assigned last night." he can't look at you, and you find your stomach to grow increasingly tight. "yeah?" "i can't write anything. i have six drafts already, and i feel so overwhelmed." he's nibbling on his lip, almost as though not to cry. you lean closer, his eyes glassy as they meet yours. frowning, your hand finds home on his jaw, your thumb wiping a few fallen tears. "i'm here, i can help. we can do it here." 
you get up, moving the tables back towards the walls. he watches you as you move, and your back is splotched with indigo. he still doesn't know what it means, but you shiver as it creeps up your neck. your hand flies to your nape, rubbing your skin. it dissipates, returning to your golden glow.
"need an open space. are you sure?" you motion for him to join you in the center of the room, and he nods. you can already feel the same heat on your skin as he settles in front of you, and the same eerie cold of indigo on your shoulders. you huff, sliding your cardigan onto the floor and rolling up your sleeves. "i have to touch your skin for this, okay? and don't worry about anything else, just keep your eyes on me." he's nervous as he lets you take his shaky hands, a soft pout on your lips as you close your eyes. "i got you, okay? i won't let anything hurt you, you're strong." you're muttering, but he finds comfort in your words. he's sure you say this to everybody.
until you start glowing a blinding blaze of indigo, your face scrunched, wincing as the room cools significantly. you're brighter than he's ever seen, possibly brighter than the fluorescent lights that line the university halls. your grimace grows as you furrow your brows deeply, the glow around you seemingly like a flame. he just watches silently as you drop one of his hands.
"can you lift your shirt for me?" your voice is strangled. your eyes are screwed shut, and he quickly does so, your hand trembling as it makes contact. your skin feels like it's on fire, and you don't know what's happening that you can only hear ringing. you'd never felt anything this intensely, but you persist as your hand palms around his torso, before reaching the center. you splay your fingers, pressing into his skin. 
you flash green for a second, so quick he almost misses it.
sliding your hand up his chest, you find the base of his throat. a sigh slips through your lips, and you pull him closer. placing his hand on your waist before moving yours in his hair. you flash slightly pink as he slips his other hand on your hip, his fingers digging into your skin. 
"this might feel a little cold." you murmur, and you dim entirely. the glow around you is now gone, a soft grey floating off you. it runs to the floor, like sand, and forms different grainy figures. kind of like…sandcastles. you open your eyes, despite the damn near inferno heat where your skin meets his.
"these are all your blockages." you pull his shirt down, and move his hands from your hips. to your right, is a grainy woman that splits into several more women. next to her, are two figures, who seem to disappear into another figure, a forest. you skirt around him, holding him in place with a hand on his hip. behind him, is another figure.
shaped kind of like you. your thighs, your arms, your hair.
"what…do they mean?" you're snapped out of your process by his voice, and you sigh. "this one…channie, you have to find better coping mechanisms. sleeping with women for stress relief is not good for you. i know it feels good, but there are other things you can do. ever tried puzzles?"
you sink to the floor, pulling him with you. you move the figures next to each other in front of you, the sand-like texture sticking to your skin. gesturing to the women, you keep talking.
"casual sex is awful, when you compare it to relationship sex. shit, even hate sex. at least you feel something other than lust for the person you're fucking." you grimace, and he nods. with a wave of your hand, the sand collapses. "these next three…you can pick which you want first." he glances at them, his hand subconsciously searching for yours. you grab it, and he points at the two people. you let your skin burn as you begin to talk, his fingers tightening around your palm. "these…are your parents, and the forest around the university." the room stills, and chan lets go of your hand. "what about them?" "you're afraid they're not proud of you. you feel like you're missing out on your experiences with them, because…" you wince as an aftershock racks your body, making you shiver. you miss chan's nervous glance. "because they're distant. you feel like an outcast from your family, and it affects the way you form bonds here. it's hard for you to build friendships, and it's hard for you to establish relationships because you fear being loved. or maybe loving, and not being loved back"
taking a breath, you pull your knees to your chest.
"the forest is representative of your lost feeling. all the trees look the same, and it makes you feel like you're constantly going in circles. everyone here is identical, we all have something special. you find it hard to relate because although you know there is something that makes you like us, you're unaware of what it is." he nods, and you let the figures drop.
"this one…" you're mumbling, and he leans slightly closer to hear you. sighing, you pull the figure of you closer. raising your arm, the figure raises her arm. "that's me." his head snaps to look at you, your eyes burning holes into the floor. you glance at the figure, collapsing it. all the figures pool together, and you lean forward, blowing it like you would dust off a bookshelf. it disappears, and chan leans back on his hands.
"what about you?" he murmurs, and you shake your head, moving to lie through your teeth. "i don't know." "you're lying." you feel your glow return, flickering gold. "y/n, tell me what it means." "i can't." you shrug, "i don't know what it means. did this help? do you feel better?"
he's peering at you, his eyes swirling violet. you raise a brow as you look at him over your shoulder, and he just shakes his head. getting up, he stalks back to the couch. you watch as he shoves his arms into his hoodie, and you simply get up, floating towards your desk.
he grabs your arm, pulling you closer to him. you sense the frost of indigo across your mid-back. you turn his hold, eyes glued to his fingers wrapped around your arm. "why?"
"hm?" "why can't you tell me?" his eyes are insistent in their violet glory. chills run down your back, indigo spreading over your hips as you run your eyes over him. he's so beautiful. "because…i can't reciprocate."
he doesn't understand, you can tell as he keeps looking at you. kind of like he wants to eat you alive, but also like he wants you to vanish.
"it means you're in love with me, or you will be. you don't like the idea of it, because it means you'll have to open up to me. that kind of…figure doesn't change, even if you want it to. you won't get the option to leave me out of your heart, and it will be unrequited for the rest of our lives. you will love me, forever, and you won't get a say in it." he lets go, brows furrowed, and his face is deep red in embarrassment. you take a step forward, and your hands instinctively reach for his waist. he allows it as he crosses his arms across his chest, his eyes fixated on you, waiting for you to speak.
"i can't love, chan." you whisper, and feel indigo overwhelm you. pursing your lips, you look down so as to not let him see the tears forming. "trust me when i say i wish i could. i wish i could love you, the way you deserve. i could wake up every morning and reach for you, but you would never be there because i can't give you what you need." the tears are dripping off your face now, pattering on the rug beneath your feet. you let go of him, your fingers tugging your shirt up, slipping it over your head. your hair falls to your shoulders, and you push it back, dropping your shirt on your desk. his eyes soften as he looks at the curve of the wide scar – like an insignia, it's carved into your skin. it starts on your shoulder, curving around it the way a fallen bra strap would. it trails down your sternum, before splitting at your diaphragm. a sharp point ends right under your left breast, while the other curves to the right of your belly button, ending on your hip.
"there is nothing i could do in this world that could ever get me in trouble, because i have this." speaking softly, you lift the cup of your bra, showing him where x marks the spot – directly above your heart. "the coven said this was my punishment for minhwi's involvement in this world, and the outrage i sparked. i can't feel love, and i haven't for so long that even if i did, i wouldn't know what it's like. i won't ever feel what it's like to be loved again, because i don't deserve it."
chan's eyes are glossed over as he brings his hand to your skin, the singe making you grimace as his fingers trace the border lightly. he tucks his lip in his teeth as he touches your shoulder, and your glow flickers slightly brighter. he pulls you in, burying his nose in your hair. "everyone deserves love. this is not your fault, i'm sorry things happened this way." you pull back, his eyes glistening with tears as he thumbs the scar on your shoulder. you give him a sad smile, shrugging in his hold. "it's life. life goes on, but for what it's worth…if i could, i'm sure you'd take great care of me."
"i still can." he says, reaching for your shirt. "i'm a pleaser, really. reciprocation has never been an issue." 
"are you seriously making a pass at me? after i just told you all of that? have some shame." you let an airy chuckle slip through your lips as you take your shirt from him, and he just smiles. one, two dimples. "not being able to love doesn't mean you shouldn't be able to cum. just saying." you gasp, landing a gentle smack on his arm before sliding your shirt on. "chan, stop it! what did i say about casual sex, hm?" pointing an accusatory finger in his direction, he cages you between your desk and his firm chest. "didn't we just talk about this? you know it's not casual." you know it's not casual.
"just once, think about yourself, yeah? do yourself a favor." he places a chaste kiss on your nose, and you feel your cheeks heat as he peppers his lips over them. you let a giggle bubble in your throat, his lips stopping over your lips. "just think about it." he gives your lips a quick kiss, before pulling back.
"it's late, let me walk you home?" he offers a gentle look in his eyes. you just nod, grabbing your purse from the back of your desk. you decide you'll move the tables back on thursday, sliding your cardigan up your arms. "aren't you cold?" he asks, sliding his arm over your shoulders like he did the night of the party, as you lock the classroom door.
"no, actually. i don't know if you feel it, but every time you touch me, i feel like i'm on fire." you chuckle lightly as you start walking, and his breath hitches. glancing at him, he just moves the two of you forward. "chan?" "mhm?" he doesn't look at you, and you stop walking. crossing your arms, he sighs. "it's not a big deal." he shrugs, trying to shake the subject by tugging you slightly closer. you frown, wrapping your arms around his waist. your eyes are fixed on him, and he can't help but coo.
"you're so pretty." he squishes your face with his free hand, and continues walking forward. "does it bother you?" you ask, your fingers drumming on his hip. the air is so frigid, and so is indigo as it fights chan's warmth. you just have to let me warm up to you.
he did so awfully fast.
"does what bother me?" he's tracing circles in your shoulder, the movement scorching. he seems so relaxed, so unperturbed by anything. you'd never seen his face so calm, used to the furrow of his brows or the bags under his eyes darker than they should be. "the fact that i won't be able to love you back." he chuckles, fingers squeezing your shoulder. "i'm used to it, as pathetic as it sounds. love is not my forte, or for the people around me. jisung is surprisingly able to get into almost anyone's pants, and can't settle down for shit. changbin is sickeningly in love with his best friend, and do you remember that guy we saw at the party? the one sneaking out of the closet?" 
you nod, and he laughs. "that's seungmin. that girl he was with, they broke up back in august. they've been fucking around ever since. if they're both at a party, they're hooking up. can't seem to stay away from each other, in a desperate attempt to stay on each other's minds, i guess? it's cute, i think." he shrugs. you feel your heart skip a beat, looking  down to see a white glow on your chest. you ignore it, probably glowing silver as you feel the emptiness, the longing to understand what he means.
"so no. it doesn't bother me, it never will. you get used to it."
it pains you a bit, to hear him sound so…well, used to it. so accustomed to settlement, so unbothered by a lack of reciprocation. selfless, really.
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wednesday – december 16.
chan wound up spending the night at your apartment. he insisted on taking the couch before you physically pulled him into your room. the moment his back hit the mattress, he ate his words as you tickled him, forcing him to admit that it was more comfortable.
really, you'd just wanted an excuse to wake up next to him. maybe see his bed head, run your fingers through it, exchange a morning kiss. all of that stupid couple shit that you would never fully experience.
because love makes you do stupid things, like spin out on a backroad and die. so you don't deserve to feel it, and really, it keeps you safe. you have no idea what it's like to love anymore and you pretend you're okay with it. you soothe by saying that not all can be felt, not all that can be desired should be had.
but fuck, if you didn't like chan before, you certainly do now.
there's no reason for this. for him standing in your living room, holding a cup of coffee as he reads through the articles you've written and framed. for him to look so cute in your old abba shirt that's too tight on his arms, for his eyes to be swollen with sleep as he blinks over the mug. for him to be so effortlessly unaware of his beauty, of his own effects. on you, on the people in his life.
"you're up." his voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you feel your cheeks heat as you nod. "your hair is a mess. here, let me fix it." 
he sets down his cup, calmly running his hand through your mussed hair. the curls fight him as he tucks them behind your ears, his fingers lingering on your lobes as you stare at him. your indigo glow reflects on his skin, his head tilted as he speaks. "what? cat got your tongue, professor?"
your mouth opens to retort, but you have nothing to say. nothing comes out. you feel orange flicker through you as you close your mouth, earning a squeaky laugh from the man in front of you. "cute. there's coffee in the kitchen, i just made it." 
he doesn't have morning classes on wednesdays, you figure as he follows you to the kitchen. because it's eleven thirty and he's still in your apartment, in your shirt, with his hands on your waist, and you don't care one bit as you pour yourself a cup of coffee.
"are you upset? you haven't said a word." his thumbs work into the small of your back, and you shudder at his touch, before you shake your head. "i'm not used to having people here so early." "it's nearly noon, y/n." he laughs airily, his breath tickling your neck. "still, so early." 
you try and ignore the heat in your chest, far stronger than it had ever been before as his fingers carefully dip below the waistband of your sweats, coming out just as quickly. "you weren't in bed when i woke up." you're muttering, but his proximity makes him hear you anyway.
"aw, did you want to wake up in my arms like they do in the movies?" he's teasing you. you scoff in embarrassment, eyes not catching the subtle white glow on your chest as you turn in his hold. "no way, pft. i like spreading my limbs like a starfish, you were crowding me all night." "hey, i offered to take the couch." he shrugs, and you just shake your head. "should've insisted a little more, then i wouldn't have felt so cold when i realized you weren't there." you joke as you set down your cup, and he raises a brow. "didn't think it would bother you, but that can be fixed." "chan–" you squeal as he hooks his arms under your thighs, your own flying to his shoulders. your legs wrap around his waist as he marches the both of you to your bedroom. "chan, don't you have classes today?" "don't you?" he kisses your forehead gently as he sets you down on your bed, pushing you back lightly. you roll your eyes, trying to hide your excitement as he slips under your duvet. he tugs you closer, your back to his chest. if he cares about the scorching heat of your skin touching, he doesn't mention it as he settles his head in the crook of your neck, reaching to intertwine your fingers with his. he holds your hand tightly, nestling it between your breasts. "if you wanted to touch my boobs, you could've just asked." "shut up, let me hold you. be selfish, for once." he nips at your earlobe, and you sigh. tender kisses trail your neck, and you can feel pink creeping down your thighs as he gives your hand a squeeze. "is this okay?"
"mhm." you can't speak as he lets go of your hand, fingers dancing across the exposed skin of your hip where your shirt has ridden up. he doesn't go up, but instead softly dips into the waistband of your sweats, snapping your underwear against your skin. a whine slips, and you freeze as he pauses. "should i stop?" his voice is raspy in your ear, and your hand grabs his wrist, bringing it lower. "it's alright. you can keep going. f-further, if you want."
you curse yourself at the stutter, hearing a soft chuckle in his throat as his fingers pad over the fabric of your panties. your breath hitches in your throat as he circles the wet spot you've been presented with, a shaky sigh escaping chan as he rocks against you. you feel pink envelope in its warmth as you turn onto your back, holding his hand in place as you capture his lips. he kisses you back fervently, his fingers never stopping their movements on your clothed heat. 
"c-can you…" you whimper against his lips, his hand never slowing as you move against it, brows furrowed. he watches as you try to form words, your eyes screwed shut as your hand tugs his away. "can you go d-down on me?" barely a whisper as you peel your eyes open, and he swears they hold the stars.
"i'd kill a man if you asked me." he shrugs, and you just roll your eyes. tugging your sweats off, he gets a glimpse of the way your panties stick to your lower lips, his heart racing in his chest knowing he's got you soaking.
he could make you cum with them on. he's positive.
spreading your thighs slowly, he watches as you hook your thumbs into the waistband. he pushes your hands away, not bothering to address your confusion as he holds them in place, sinking between your legs. he can't help but tease, dragging his soft lips up your skin, watching you shudder at the contact. he moves to grip your hips, your shirt rising and the end of your scar becoming visible. his eyes flicker to yours, "shirt stays on, right?"
"y-yeah." you look away, and he rubs your hip reassuringly. "s'alright, baby. i can make you cum just like this, if you want."
it's not a question, you can tell as he kisses the pink cotton of your panties. he has no intention of taking them off, he might not even fuck you, but you don't care. all that matters are his eyes peering into your fucking soul as he dips his head down, a chaste kiss pressed to your hip. he trails down, hands circling your plush thighs as he litters them with kisses. your eyes are watching him nervously, lip tucked under your teeth to stop the soft pants from echoing the room. you feel like you can't breathe as he pulls you closer to his face, pressing that strong nose into you, inhaling deeply. "you smell so fucking good, baby." he's not even doing anything, but the vibrations of his moan against you elicit a whimper from your throat, making you buck your hips forward. his grip tightens as he nuzzles his nose against your clit, placing a soft kiss on it before he speaks against it.
"be nice, or i'll make you scream." he smiles into your underwear, tonguing your clit through the fabric. he watches as your glow grows brighter, pulling you impossibly closer. he's letting you grind on his face, to use him for your pleasure, and you'd be lying if that doesn't make you that much more wet for him. "y-you don't want to take them off?"
your stuttering is adorable to him, and the way your fingers card through his hair and tug adds to his own pleasure. shaking his head, he snaps the waistband against you again, "you're so needy, aren't you? can't get off just like this?" "channie, p-please. please, i want your f-fingers." he hums against your clit, continuing his cruel lapping, the sound of your pussy against his face obscene and sloppy. "you can beg better than that. tell me how bad you want it, baby." "w-want it so bad, channie, please. please, i'll be g-good for you, p-promise. s-so good." you're almost sobbing, and he almost feels bad. a gentle laugh leaves his throat as he thumbs your slit, leaving sticky strings against his skin as he gives in. "so good? so, so good for me? is that right?" he slides the flimsy fabric down your legs, the exposure to the cool air making you shiver. he's watching your face contort as he collects your arousal on his fingers, before slowly teasing your entrance. "i swear to god, chan-" your retort gets cut off by a gasp, his fingers hitting just right, his lips sucking tortuously on your clit. he likes it messy, is all you can think in your fucked out state as you coat his entire hand in your slick, feeling him groan against your pussy.
"look at you, so pretty. you're a good girl for me, right? you're gonna soak the sheets, hm?" he feels you clamp around his fingers, another wave of your arousal glazing his palm as you sob. "fuck, you sound so hot." "c-channie..." you rasp, your voice so low he almost misses it. he peers at you over your soft tummy, your lips swollen and covered in your spit from biting back your moans. you're actively whining, grinding against his hand in a weak attempt at reaching your release. "aw, baby wants to cum? is that it?"
you whimper, making him curl his fingers inside your wet heat. he seemed to have found the perfect spot as you arched your back off the bed, attempting to pull away from him. his left arm holds you tightly in place, your fingers clutching his wrist as your choked moan rings blissfully in his ears. your thighs close around him, his soft shh doing nothing to quiet you down as you let your orgasm wrack your legs. his lips pepper kisses all over your pelvis, mumbles of praises as he works his way up. 
he hovers over your face, pressing his soft lips on your cheek. you wrap your arms around his neck, shivering at the way his fingers pinch your clothed nipple lightly. "you can give me one more, right? just one more, princess." he's murmuring against your skin, and you nod as he reaches your lips. 
"just one more?" you nip at his lower lip, before sinking in to kiss him. "just one. want to feel you around me, want to know how good i'm making you feel." you realize it's important to chan, despite what he said the night before. he wanted to be praised, he wanted to make somebody proud, even if this was the only way he felt he could do it. he could act like he's this statue, this emotionless, needless creature of nature – but he also desired approval, to be needed, to be wanted.
to be loved.
you don't say anything as you let his hands push your knees to your chest, his lips now suckling on your nipple through your shirt. your hands move to his head, pushing it away as you go to slip it off. his hands let go of your legs, entwining your fingers with his brows furrowed. "you don't have to." "i want to." you quip back quickly, tugging your fingers out of his grasp. you hook them at the hem of your shirt, lightly lifting off the bed to slide it off. he hesitates, his eyes tracing the curves of the raised skin. the way it glows lightly, almost as though it's losing its defined edges.
his eyes flicker to yours, your gaze intently scanning his face. did you think he'd be disgusted? maybe even repulsed? lowering his head, he brushed a kiss to your lips, before he allowed himself to sink to your chest. you breathed in nervously, your fingers gripping the sheets next to your body when you felt his mouth planting feather-light touches to your scar.
he can feel your skin heat under his face, the more he travels along the healed welt. the glow is slightly brighter than your overall pink, as you shudder under him, his hands pulling your fingers into his, the crumpled sheets forgotten as he pins your arms above your head.
"you're so beautiful. gorgeous, ethereal. no words could express how lovely you are." he whispers as he presses one final kiss where x marks the spot, and you jolt lightly at the singe you feel. it spreads, the whole insignia across your torso burning deeply as he moves back. his eyes are flashing with something you can't read. "chan…" "sorry." he shakes his head, his thumbs rubbing circles into your hands. you tilt your head at him, before glancing at his body, a smile spreading on your plump lips. "are you going to fuck me with all your clothes on?"
"i can." he smiles, and you raise an eyebrow. "off, all of it." 
standing off the side of your bed, he tugs your old abba shirt off, and you watch with sinful eyes as he flings it away. "stop staring at me." he whispers, and you shake your head playfully. "you said you'd kill a man if i asked, and gave me the best head of my life, but i can't watch you strip?" 
"the best, huh?" he ignores everything else he slips his sweats off, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed. "don't get cocky, or this won't count as extra c-credit." your eyes peer at him, the leaking head of his thick cock already teasing your folds lightly. his hands circle your legs once more, pulling one over his shoulder while folding the other close to your chest. he stares at your soaked cunt, the way it clenches around nothing. so inviting, so wet, so ready for him.
"that's alright, let's count it as the first class i missed. what was it, getting to know me? ask me something." he continues his teasing, watching as you squirm against him. "uhm, o-okay. what's your favorite color?"
"really?" he rubs against you lightly, his tip dragging over your clit so menacingly, you swear you could cum from just that. "hm, i like black." "black is an ab-absence of color, fuck." you dig your nails into your thighs as he shallowly thrusts into you, the lack of warning wracking a shudder up your spine. "mm, if you can't keep talking there's going to be an absence of dick in about two seconds."
"n-no, no please. shit, that feels so good." you can't keep your eyes open as he slowly sinks further into you, stilling his movements as you tuck your lip into your teeth. "ah, ah. eyes open, keep talking to me." his fingers lightly tap your cheek, your skin burning in embarrassment as you peel your eyes open. "next question, baby." "b-biggest accomplishment so f-far?" you swallow thickly as his hips are flush against your ass, allowing you to adjust to the size of him before making any more movements. he leans his head against your ankle, brows furrowed as he speaks. "probably making you cum so hard, you cry." you narrow your eyes as you look at him, "you h-haven't, though?" "but i will." he kisses your shin, giving an experimental thrust of his hips. your eyes flutter shut, a silent gasp from your lips turning to soft mewls as he starts a gentle pace. "next question." "d-do you believe in love at first s-sight?" you feel him hesitate, before he gives you a particularly harsh thrust. "somewhat." he rubs your thigh gently before continuing his brutal ministrations. "harder, please." silently, he obliges, letting your breathy moans fill his ears instead of talking. he hates talking, he hates answering questions, but he can't help and adore the tone of your voice, the softness of your queries, the avoidance in answering his.
"you feel so good, channie, holy shit." he can feel you clenching tightly around him, but lets your praise take precedence. the way you're arching your back off the mattress, hairline lined with beads of sweat as you let him fuck into you, just the way you like. the way you seem to love, as he lowers to whisper in your ear. "next question."
the proximity makes everything feel like it's a thousand degrees, your hands flying to his hair as he sucks on your collarbone lightly. "favorite s-song? ah!' you hiss at his teeth on your skin, feeling his grin against you.
"your voice." his thrusts are slowly becoming less steady, but you don't care. you don't care because his skin is scorching hot, he's holding you to him, you can feel the air of his pants against your neck and he feels so good.
there's no reason for this. for him to be blissfully ruining you while holding you flush to his chest, your nipples touching with every roll of his hips. for him to look so good while he defiles you, the way you're not even speaking coherently in his ear. for your soul to feel like it's aching for more of him, but how much more could you have when you can't love him. for him to be so effortlessly unaware of his beauty, of his own effects, on you, as the white-hot of your orgasm starts approaching fast.
"i…" you feel a sob rip through you, and he instinctively pulls away from you. "hey, hey. it's alright, baby." guilt fills his chest, his hands holding your face as the tears stream down your cheeks. "it's alright, we don't have to–" pushing yourself up on your elbows, you smash your lips to his, feeling yourself glow so hot you're practically on fire. it's all teeth and tongue, and you're wrapping your fingers around his throat before he can react. squeezing gently, he whines into your mouth, his hips snapping erratically against you. you swallow his sounds in your quiet sobs, the tears dripping down your neck doing nothing to cool you down. 
"y/n…" he whines pitifully against your lips, and you can feel his pout emerge as you clench around him. he settles his face in the crook of your neck, cheeks flushed. "p-please don't stop, don't stop, e-ever…" you're just as needy as he is, throwing your head back as he bites at your shoulders, your hand on his throat tightening as he sends you over the edge.
"fuck, baby." the whimper into your shoulder does nothing good for him as you clench around him, milking whatever is left of him, hips driving you both into overstimulation. he slows, his head lifting from your shoulder to peer into your eyes. you avoid them, letting go of his throat and wiping them off with the back of your hand.
the room feels heavy, with guilt. shame. maybe even a bit of hatred, but you’re not entirely sure as he kisses you gently, chastely, before pulling back. his eyes hold the sun, the stars, the moon.
"guess you got your biggest accomplishment, huh?" you chuckle thickly, and he shakes his head, pulling out slowly. his eyes avert to your center, watching his cum drip out of you slowly. he feels weird, it's such a waste. "are you okay? i should've asked sooner, i'm sorry." "no, no. it was…it was really good." you admit, feeling your glow flicker. you close your legs, scooting up on the bed as he reaches for your shirt, you cross your arms over your chest, fingers digging into your sides. "i really liked it, actually." "are you sure?" he's absent, you can tell as he wipes the back of your legs gently, before tossing the shirt over his shoulder. "i'm sorry for crying, i know it was really sudden. i just felt so overwhelmed and you felt so good, and i…" you trail off, and he feels his cheeks heat, shaking his head again. "no, it's fine. that was the goal, after all. i…do you want me to go?" your brows furrow, and you tilt your head. "go? why would i want you to go?" he shrugs, not meeting your eyes as he tugs on his sweatpants. "i don't know, i usually leave after…things like this." "what happened to 'you know it's not casual?'" you use air quotes, and you see his cheeks burn bright red. "i…i don't think i'd be able to do this, especially after what we talked about yesterday."
"do…what? we just had sex, it's not a big deal." you uncross your arms, ignoring your blatant nudity as he slips your abba shirt to you, taking it just to toss it to the side. "...act like i don’t care. i really, really like you, y/n, and i already feel so guilty about this." he can't look at you as he slips his hoodie on, the one you'd thrown over your desk chair last night when he said it was too hot to wear to bed.
you close your mouth, pressing your lips into a firm line as you grab the shirt, tugging it over your head. "i figured this would happen. maybe you should go, chan. clear your head, and we can talk later."
your brows are furrowed as you open your bedroom door, and he swallows thickly. he knew what he was getting himself into, so why does it bother him now? he said he wouldn't care, he said it so confidently.
and yet, he can't bring himself to say a word as he slams out of your apartment, eyes full of tears. leaving you feeling dejected, guilty and alone.
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thursday – december 17.
it wasn't until the next day that you noticed it was significantly smaller.
it didn't curve under your breast anymore, the subtle x on your skin gone. it didn't wrap around your shoulder anymore, and it stopped right next to your navel. the scarred skin was now a bit paler, and you'd grimaced as you tugged your shirt on.
you couldn't be arsed with thinking about it, really, because now you had to walk into your classroom and face chan. of course, the chances of him not being there were fifty-fifty.
which inherently, made you feel worse.
you didn't understand why you couldn't stop thinking about his words, and what he said. your voice was his favorite song, he didn't care if you loved him or not, he somewhat believed in love at first sight? he'd met you officially a little over a month ago, no one can fall in love that quickly.
groaning, you felt orange flicker across your body as you let your heels clack against the saltillo tile of the hallway, tossing your half-empty coffee cup in the trash can. upon entering your room, the air feels…cooler.
chan is sitting on the couch, his legs squished together as minnie and shuhua peer at his face. soyeon, mingyu and yugyeom are flipping through various textbooks, each talking about what could have caused a sudden irischroma shift. he probably feels the heat of your stare, his eyes flickering to yours.
they're a deep, deep indigo color. they flash lightly at the sight of you, and minnie looks up to see you standing at your podium. "y/n…you've gotta come see this." "i can…i can see it, minnie." your voice is faint as you feel your chest searing hot, your hand coming to soothe it. clearing your throat, you shake your head as you feel a little weary, shuhua approaching you quickly. "are you okay? y/n?" "yes, i'm okay." your breathing becomes a little labored, soyeon and mingyu rushing to your side as you sink to the floor. "just give me some room." your hands touch the cool floor, and you can feel yourself dimming by the second. 
"gyu, get help." minnie shoves mingyu out the door, and you can hear his footsteps fading as he runs to the infirmary. "chan, help me pick her up." yugyeom urges, and you weakly shake your head.
"i'm fine, i'm okay." you choke out, your hand clutching your chest as you feel chan's warm hands on your arms, circling around to lift you gently. "easy, easy. i got you, baby." he murmurs, and you feel your eyes sting with tears as he lets you slump against him, your glow fading fast.
"stay with me." his fingers dig into your side as he picks you up bridal style, carefully walking you over to the couch. yugyeom pulls their backpacks off, letting him lower you gently. minnie fans you with a stack of papers. chan peers at your face, your brows pinched as you breathe in as deeply as you can, his thumb instinctively padding at the crease. huffing, you tear his hand away, lacing your fingers in his. he acts like his heart doesn’t lurch forward.
"alright, everybody, back up." mingyu's voice rings in the room, and your bleary eyes can barely make out the oxygen mask that nurse taeyeon is slipping over your face. "there, there, professor. we got you."
you're shivering as she instructs chan to lift you onto the gurney on three, and you almost cry at the loss of contact when he sets you down. "chan, chan." your voice is nearly a whisper, and the students watch as you flicker, your glow lost as it glitches between colors. 
"maybe you should go with her." yugyeom nudges him as nurse taeyeon glances at him, and she crosses her arms as chan nods slowly,slipping his bag over his shoulder. he takes nurse taeyeon's place at the end of the gurney, rolling you quietly out of the classroom. you're flickering from color to color as he walks slightly faster at nurse taeyeon's command.
"what happened?" she asks, and chan shakes his head as they take a sharp turn, your groan resounding in the hall. "i'm not sure, she just started clutching her chest and basically fell to the floor." nodding, taeyeon stays quiet the rest of the walk, her eyes only glancing at his worried expression and your hazy one. they're in love, she thinks. this is love.
taeyeon can't really help you. her powers lay in the herbalism field, she has no idea what's wrong, and she can't get a specialist here fast enough. she watches as chan carefully positions you in the empty room, letting his bag slide onto the floor before taking a seat at the foot of the bed. she simply sighs, calling that she'd be back with a rosemary tea and to just sit tight as she calls for the master sorcerers.
his hand gently strokes your ankle, making you flinch. "chan, chan i can't breathe." you tug at your collar, and he quickly reaches to unbutton your top buttons. "it's gonna be okay, angel." he's whispering as your hand grasps his wrist, the oxygen mask doing little to help as you wheeze.
"chan…" his head lifts, and your eyes are teary as you hear footsteps approaching hurriedly. he doesn't acknowledge you as the master sorcerers burst into your room, taeyeon trailing behind them with a steaming cup. "excuse me, coming through." she perches at the edge of the bed, carefully pulling you up. you whimper softly, and chan feels his heart ache at your pain. "drink this, it'll help your stress. that's probably what this is, just some anxiety."
taeyeon's tone is soft as she takes off the oxygen mask, the master sorcerers waiting until they can swoop in. neither of them acknowledge chan, despite getting to know him insanely well over the past few years. he could dare to think that they were afraid of him, of not knowing what he was. master sorcerers my ass, he thinks.
"i can't…" you're breathless, and taeyeon's gaze softens as she lets you slump down on the pillow once more. "it's alright. the master sorcerers are here, okay? they'll take care of you." she pats your shoulder, and you nod wearily as the grandest of all, dr. kang seulgi, takes a step forward.
"bang chan, why are you here?" her sharp voice echoes in the room, and your hand weakly reaches for him as he slides off the bed. "i brought her in, dr. kang."
"i see. you can evacuate the premises." she waves him away nonchalantly, and he frowns deeply as he steps back, your eyes fixed on him. almost like you're begging him to stay.
"i think i'll stay, actually." he blurts, and dr. kang's eyes snapped to him. "i'm not asking you, chan, i'm telling you." "let the boy stay, what's the harm?" dr. min's voice rings from his spot against the door frame, and chan glances up at the nimble man. "c'mon, seulgi."
"yoongi, if you undermine me again, you're sleeping on the couch." she grits, her wedding band to dr. min glinting in the low light as she rubs her temples. your hand reaches for chan once more, a soft groan from your lips catching his attention. he takes it, entwining your fingers quickly, kneeling at your side. "of course, jagi. y/n, what seems to be the problem?" dr. min pushes past, noting the undone buttons of your blouse. your chest is glowing, but the rest of you is the dimmest indigo he'd ever seen. much less, having seen you never glow indigo. your breathing is still labored, chest glowing brighter as chan once more rubs the pinch of your brows away.
"y/n, i'm going to open your shirt, okay?" dr. kang pushes past dr. min, her nimble fingers undoing the rest of the buttons. your scar is illuminated, but…it's not really there. it's faded, and chan can tell this is out of the ordinary as dr. kang's brows raise.
"yoongi." her voice is low, bringing her husband to her side. "oh, my."
their eyes meet, as though they're speaking telepathically. dr. kang's eyes flash gold as she furrows her brows, her husband grimacing as his own flash green. they glance at chan, who is gingerly moving your hair out of your face, his fingers barely ghosting over your sticky skin.
you can barely see him through your foggy eyes, but you're scanning him intently. you can see the glowing indigo of his eyes, that matches yours. you're dimming, but he's brighter than ever and it sends a shiver up your spine. his hand squeezes yours, a wave of heat attacking your chest.
dr. kang looks back, her husband staring intently at her.
"he healed her, it seems." his eyes speak, and she shakes her head. "he's not a healer, remember? we tried that already." yoongi nods, eyes fluttering back to the both of you. chan's now sitting on the edge of the bed, your arm draped over his lap as he speaks to you gently. he can't hear what chan is saying, but the glint of adoration in his eyes tells him all he needs to know.
"chan, can i see you in the hallway?" dr. min speaks, and your head turns to him. you pout, your eyes filling with tears as chan pulls away from you. dr. kang gives him a hard glare as she takes his place, her cool hand placed directly on your hot skin, making you groan.
"yes, dr. min?" chan's eyes are enticing, and dr. min shrugs. "let's try a little something, hm?" chan follows dr. min's line of vision, the door of the bathroom ajar. dr. min makes a gesture for chan to wait, before ducking into the bathroom, shutting the door. chan hears a loud crash, and dr. min appears just as fast, with a bloody fist.
"dr. min, are you alright? i can get nurse taeye-" dr. min places his free hand over chan's mouth, a knowing look in his eyes as he holds up his injured hand. "heal me, chan." "what? sir, i'm not a healer, you know that." chan furrows his brows, and dr. min shakes his head. "channel it." dr. min's eyes are boring into chan's soul as he looks away, shivering as he tries to channel any sort of magical energy for this injury. he's not surprised when nothing happens, and dr. min nods his head.
dr. min simply heals it himself, and chan looks away as the skin closes quickly, the dried blood disappearing before his eyes. vitalis mendacium, he thinks it's called. "chan, i think i may have an idea of what's going on with professor y/n." dr. min clasps his hands together in front of him, and chan tilts his head.
"you're in love with her, aren't you?" dr. kang's voice rings from the doorway of your room, and chan gapes at her. "w-what?" "don't play dumb. she told me she helped you clear some emotional blockage on tuesday, and she showed up in your blockages." dr. kang crosses her arms, and a groan is heard from you, chan flinching at the sound. "chan, this is dangerous territory." his eyes narrow as he shakes his head. "i don't think what you did to her was right. i think we all deserve a chance at love, no matter our mistakes. you're wrong, dr. kang." dr. kang scowls, "you think we did this to her? the old coven did it, we had no say!" she points between herself and her husband, and dr. min places his hand on her shoulder.
"chan, seulgi is right. in this world, there is no amount of study done that could reverse what the old coven has done to y/n. they cursed layers upon layers of punishment on her, this was never intended to be something that could be undone." dr. min speaks slowly, and chan can hear you whining in the room behind the couple. he's antsy, he feels sick to his stomach knowing you're a mere ten feet away and he can't make you feel better. 
"i don't know what to do." dr. kang admits lowly, her hand covering her eyes as she looks away from the men in front of her. "i think…" dr. min trails off as chan pushes past them, sliding next to you. he watches chan fan you with his hand, your own wrapped around his waist as you shiver.
"you trust me, right?" he looks to seulgi, who nods her head. "always." his hands spin her around, making her face the two of you. "i think this is his to heal. look how quiet she is in his presence, she's barely moving. her breathing is more steady." "yoongi, he's not a healer." seulgi groans into her hands, her eyes catching a flash of white protruding from you as chan runs his hand down your back. she watches as he helps you peel your jacket off, your baby pink shirt transparent from the sheen of your sweat soaking through.
"maybe not for us, but for her." yoongi mumbles, seeing chan swipe your hair away from your neck, his lips pursed as he blows cool air against your skin. your groan is one of relief as he rocks you, and seulgi glances at her husband, swallowing thickly. "they're so rare, yoongi. there hasn't been one in this dimension in three hundred and twenty five years."
"i think we may have another on our hands." yoongi smiles widely as you slowly prop yourself up on your elbow, chan's worried eyes scanning your face for distress. you make a noise of disgust, your glow returning green steadily as chan helps you sit up. "what happened? ugh, i'm all sweaty."
glancing at your hands, you see them glowing indigo as it spreads up your body. you turn, seeing the master sorcerers staring at you from the doorway. grimacing, you glimpse at chan, who is looking at you intently. "hey, you alright?" his hand is holding your hip, and your frown falters as you look into his eyes. they're glowing bright as he looks you over. "what happened to your eyes?" your voice is raspy, and he looks away, shrugging.
"i'm not sure. they started changing last night." he swallows, and you shudder as indigo engulfs you entirely. "they look…pretty."
he snorts, shaking his head. "you might want to button up your shirt." feeling your cheeks burn, your fingers fumble with the buttons when you feel seulgi's cool hand on your wrist. "wait."
letting her lay you back, you miss chan's warmth as he slips off the bed, lingering from a few feet away as she opens your shirt. her eyes widen as she quickly beckons her husband over. his eyes snake down your torso, and his eyes glint with green as he meets seulgi's. they're silent, their faces moving as they communicate.
"y/n?" dr. kang's voice is low as she runs her hand through your mussed curls, and you meet her line of vision. her eyes are soft, staring at your torso. "y/n, do you know the history of psychosomatic healers?"
raising a brow, you nod your head. "yeah, they're the rarest of the healing trifecta. there hasn't been one in this dimension since 1699, and even then there's only seven recorded cases because they're so difficult to pinpoint at commencement." dr. min steps forward, noticing chan's eyes glued to the floor as dr. kang examines you further.. "y/n, i'd like to try something, if you don't mind." nodding, you allow dr. kang to take your arm in her hand, pulling your sleeve off your shoulder. 
with a quick swipe of her nails, you're bleeding. you gape at her, a scoff flying from your lips when chan looks up, the sound tearing him from his thoughts. "are you serious, seulgi?" you push her away, flickering orange and dr. min beckons chan forward. "touch her, chan."
taking a deep breath, chan gets closer to you, his nose scrunching at the blood seeping into your shirt. he takes your hand in his, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin. you look away from your shoulder, zeroing in on the subtle touch of affection when a white glow catches everyone's eyes. tugging at your shirt sleeve, seulgi reveals a clean shoulder, no injury visible.
"a psychosomatic healer can only heal those they love." she states, her eyes boring into chan's as he tries to tug his hand away, but you only use it as leverage to sit up. "what the fuck are you guys on about?" "there's no way you're that dumb, y/n." seulgi snorts, her manicured fingernail pointing at your chest. "i don't know how he did it, and i don't think we'll ever know. the curse the coven set upon you has been lifted by him." you look down — the raised welt where your scar once was has dissipated. widening your eyes, you peel the shoulder of your shirt down, the formerly scarred skin now smooth. your fingers tremble as you run them over your soft flesh, feeling the sting of tears forming. you can feel the burn of a sob in your throat as chan releases your hand, stepping back as you process.
the burning of his gaze, of his skin on yours, of your chest in his presence. the ache you felt in your soul yesterday as his lips brushed your neck with every roll of his hips, the way his answers confused you. the anger you felt while walking to class, at not being able to decipher him.
the way his angel eyes held the sun, the moon, and the stars. the way worry creases his brow though relief has washed over his frame, the way you're itching to hold him close, and never, ever let go.
it all makes sense.
"we'll give you both a moment." the master sorcerers bow their heads as they back out of the room, dr. min closing the door behind him. you sit in silence, feeling sticky and gross and overwhelmed.
"you're in love with me?!" you shriek, and chan throws up his hands in defense. "i thought we already knew this, why are we screaming?!" you swat his arm, and a nervous laugh bubbles up his throat. flopping back down onto the gurney, you dramatically cover your eyes with your arm, sighing. "now i have to cherish this, and we're probably going to get married and have kids and all that shit. are you serious? are you serious." "y/n…" you stand up, pacing back and forth in front of him, your hands weaving through your hair to soothe the onsetting migraine at the information. "how are you not freaking out, chan? you just found out you're one of the rarest healers in the trifecta, and not to mention the first in over three centuries! are you shitting me right now?" "y/n?"
you're not listening as you continue to ramble, pacing a hole into the floor when he grabs your shoulder, pulling you to him. taking both your hands in his, he looks you in the eyes. "you're spiraling." 
huffing, you nibble on your lower lip. "what happens now, chan?"
his smile is warm, it's comforting, it's making your stomach flip as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. "i don't know. isn't that the beauty of it all, though? not knowing where you end up?"
pouting, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing his warmth to seep into your skin. "i've never felt this, chan. i don't know what it's like to be lost, i've always had my answers." you can feel the vibrations of his chest as he laughs, his hand coming to stroke your hair gently.
"that's okay, it'll be like the blind leading the blind. for now, we can just focus on…us? maybe go on a date, have dinner…" his voice is soft as you look up to him, his eyes already scanning your face for any hint of rejection. "unless you don't want to." you do, of course you do.
"i'm all sweaty, and gross. we've had a revelation about your purpose in this world, your eyes are a different color, and you want to focus on us?" your voice is laced with incredulity, a hint of amusement peeking through as it tugs at your lips. "i have my whole life to focus on other things. when you can't find a piece of a puzzle, you pick another part to focus on, do you not? i have that answer, that piece now, but i'm already figuring this part out." squeezing your shoulder, he places a chaste kiss on your hairline, your nose scrunching.
"why did you come with me?" you poke his chest, and he smirks. "yesterday or today?"
gaping, you land a soft smack to his chest, his squeaky laughter filling your ears as your cheeks heat. "chan! not funny!" "sorry, i'm sorry! i saw an opportunity, i took it. but, i was worried about you." he starts, taking a piece of your hair between his fingers. "i saw how angry you looked before minnie spoke to you, and before you looked at me. you started looking faint when we met eyes, and i was…i was scared that something might happen to you and that i wouldn't be able to apologize for potentially overstepping boundaries, or ruining whatever little game we have going on."
"you couldn't ruin whatever this is even if you tried." you scoff, your words tumbling out before you can process them. "i've never felt anything this intense before in my entire life. my ears started ringing when i touched your chest on tuesday, here." you splay your fingers on his hoodie, in the same place.
"i couldn't hear a thing. that was me, the blockage, i was basically hearing myself. if we didn't have that moment, if you hadn't let me in, none of this would have happened." you speak softly, taking his hands in yours, his eyes glassy as he looks into yours. your smile is gentle, and he can feel his stomach flutter as you lean closer. "and i'm so glad it did. despite this whole day being so weird, despite the coven probably burning holes into the back of my head right now from hell right now, and despite the tears i can see about to spill out of your eyes, nothing could ruin this. okay?" he looks away, nibbling on his lip. your thumb strokes his cheek, catching a few stray tears as you make him face you. vision blurring, but you can see him clearer than ever.
"okay?" you insist, and he nods. "okay."
"good." pulling him towards you, you crash your lips to his, feeling your heart beating in your ears. your arms cross over his shoulders, his hands finding home on your bare waist, the kiss becoming heated. parting his lips, your tongue snakes its way in, a soft groan from chan as he pushes you back, your knees hitting the gurney. 
"not in here, guys." dr. kang's voice echoes in the room, and you spring apart like teenagers. wiping at your lips, you watch as chan grabs your discarded jacket, and his bag. outstretching his hand to you, you take it, letting him rush the both of you towards the door. quickly bowing to the master sorcerers, you giggle as the cool december air hits your chest.
"yeah, y/n! nice titties, girl!" you hear a holler from down the hall, your eyes catching a glimpse of minnie's teal hair. you smile widely, waving as chan continues, a blush coating his cheeks as you begin to float behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"where are we going?" you mumble in his ear, and he shivers. "to yours. i need to show you how much you mean to me." you let the butterflies bounce around in your stomach, knowing exactly what was coming your way.
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friday – january 08.
your relationship with chan had become the talk of the wizard world. several words were thrown your way, many to your detriment – but you chose to focus on 'love epiphany' and 'anomalies made to traverse together.'
he naturally passed your class with flying colors, what more could you do when he literally discovered himself? the students deemed it completely fair, with only yugyeom choosing to retake your course because he felt like he didn't really do what was necessary. mornings were filled with the buzzing of your phone – the students had made a group chat and continuously badgered you with memes, and mingyu with his graduation photos.
whereas, chan's mornings were filled with you, his phone long put on silent. your soft hair tickling his neck, only for your gentle lips to place chaste kisses along his jaw as he awoke. your warm leg draped over his waist, your knee teasing his crotch so early was something he'd never get used to. your arm, propping you up once he lazily peels an eye open, closing it the moment he sees your beaming smile, a blush coating his cheeks.
"do you always stare at me when i sleep?" he mumbles, his fingers dipping under the hem of your sleep shorts. "do birds fly?" "you're a creep, you know that?" laughing, he lets you hold his eyes open with your fingers, the indigo glow of them making you glow brighter in turn. that was what it meant, after all – the subzero color now warm, as you illuminated the room with your love for chan. "yeah? well you're creeping your fingers into my panties, so maybe shut up."
your lips are addicting, he could never get enough of them as you brush them against him. both sets, of course.
kidding. sort of. not at all. he loves you, okay? that's all that matters.
"you should check your email, channie." you murmur against his neck, and he nods his head, watching as you try not to smile. "oh i should, should i?" ignoring the raise of his eyebrow, you reach for chan's phone, plopping it on his bare chest. chan lolls his head back, hands relocating to your hips as he pulls you on top of him. your cheeks heat at the soft love bites on his pec, but shake it away as his voice snakes into your head
"you seem a little too excited, baby." he ruffles your hair as he unlocks his phone, and you just bite your lip as he scans the screen. "tell me, sorcerer, what's the news?" your voice bounces off the walls, with chan just squeezing your hip in response.
dearest bang chan,
it is our honor here at the spellbound institute of magic to let you know that you have been chosen to be published in this year's edition of the spellbound sorcerer. such an honor is only awarded to those with extraordinary skill. 
we've also made the unanimous decision for you to speak at this year's annual convention, taking over the healing trifecta's booth. more information will be provided as the date approaches.
we look forward to seeing you and professor y/l/n there.
signed,
dr. kang seulgi
dr. min yoongi
master sorcerers
spellbound institute of magic
his eyes flicker to yours, your grin so wide, it's infectious. "i'm getting published." "you're getting published!" you cheer loudly, and chan feels his cheeks heat as you pepper his face in kisses. "you're getting published, baby! we have to celebrate! let's ask your parents to dinner, yeah? we can get a cabin for the weekend, so they don't have to drive home so late."
he forgets how you pried the truth about his parents out of him, but he's almost sure it was last tuesday when you made him beg for you to sit on his face. almost sure, but he doesn't really care anymore. after all, he'd warmed up to you.
"i'm so proud of you, channie." your voice is gentle as you swipe your thumbs under his eyes, and he nods, burying his face in your chest as embarrassment spreads in his. "hey, you can't hide from me. what happened to the praise kink? don't you want to know how good you're doing?" "i told you that in confidence!" he swats at your leg as he nestles into your laughter. "i know! it's just me and you here, what's the problem?! let me praise you!"
"never. come on, let's read my stupid essay." he throws the comforter off his legs, and you huff as you climb off his lap. sitting up on the edge of the bed, you lean against his back, your arms hooked around his broad shoulders. the same ones full of your nail marks, a few imprints of your teeth scattered around them. "i graded it, i already read it." "well, praise me while i read it." he snorts, and you press a soft kiss to his shoulder. "mm, okay. i'll take what i can get."
bang chan
professor y/l/n
identity theory
if you're nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it. – tony stark, spider-man: homecoming (2017)
the fall was slow, like liebesträume.
feeling lost is an understatement.
i've been lost before – in grocery stores, misunderstanding assignments. i've even been lost in the woods before, riddled with anxiety standing within the trees. so uniform, full of belonging. those trees know where their purpose lies.
me? i've been wandering this world not knowing where my purpose lies, what i'm meant to be doing with said unrealized purpose. this is a feeling of disorientation, isolation, off course. it's all the same anyway, isn't it?
i spent years looking for answers – from the day i was dropped off at the academy to the day i met professor y/l/n. life was well sullied with fear, a feeling of desperation as i felt my time running low. i willingly put myself in danger, hopping from dimension to dimension with the aid of some friends to find something to ease my worries, and came up empty. answers will find you, not you them.
another thing i failed to consider was that i perhaps had my answer all along. from the natural instinct to protect and take care of the people i hold close, to the agony of being away from my family – all i needed was a catalyst. something to throw me even more off course, even more confusing than what life had come to be before her.
professor y/l/n has brought me to life. truly, i could never say enough to express the appreciation i have for her, but i will attempt it any chance i get. an enigma, an anomaly, a paradigm – she is far, far more than these words could begin to define. she's selfless, she's full of light and i could never understand that. my admiration for her goes well beyond this lifetime, and like the praying mantis, she was a beacon of guidance.
her story is full of twists and turns as she allowed me to indulge. from the flickering of the glow around her, to understanding that only the deepest of her indigo hue glows for me, i'm honored to say the least. i will never get enough of her story, of her truths, of her. the idea that love lies in the hands of the beholder is entirely true in this case. to be loved is to be known, and she read me far beyond my wildest dreams the moment her golden cast laid upon me. 
eckhart tolle says that, to love is to recognize yourself in another. i have never experienced something as deep as this, nor have i ever seen myself in y/n – and i'm glad i don't. my insecurities, my flaws, what i dislike about myself, are my own. however, i know she sees something i don't, and i trust that. i trust her, with my entire being. without her, i'd have no clue of my purpose. to younger me, who is still wondering the answer to that, i propose this.
your purpose is to love. love beyond your ways, love selflessly. love selfishly, like it's all you can do. like it's all you're capable of, because the moment you lay eyes on y/n? you will see, it is. loving her is all you can do. life without love is meaningless, life without her is hopeless.
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temptaetions © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.
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taglist: @cookiesandcreammy | @alician87
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a-writer-on-elm-street · 10 months
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Can I please ask for a smut Damon request using this picture. Imagine distracting Damon whilst he’s concentrating on a phone call to ric and he punishes you for being a naughty girl for interrupting his call and pins you to the bed . Sorry I’m just a very naughty minded girl when it comes to Damon 😜
Apologise
a/n: thank you so much for the request i loved writing this!! hope you enjoy! <3 (also, i'm so sorry it took so long)
pairing: damon x fem!reader
warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected sex
word count: 644
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You chuckle against Damon's skin, your lips dragging along his stomach as he squirms beneath you, his phone pressed to his ear.
You can hear Alaric's muffled voice coming through the speaker as you hook your fingers under the waistband of Damon's jeans, prompting him to curse at you under his breath.
But he doesn't make a move to stop you, only attempting to stifle a groan as he keeps his phone to his ear.
And you find yourself stifling a laugh when you hear Alaric ask if everything's okay.
"Yeah, Ric," Damon says, his voice strained as he squirms beneath you. "Everything's great. Nothing wrong here."
You find it all the more amusing by how hard he's trying to cover, despite the fact that he's practically groaning into the phone, one of his hands absentmindedly playing with your hair.
Once you manage to pull his pants off along with his boxers, you waste no time in wrapping your hand around his length, eliciting a startled sigh from him, his hips jerking into you from the contact.
"Are you sure you're okay?" You hear Ric ask him, and it makes you chuckle.
Damon glares at you as he speaks.
"Yeah, Ric, everything's fine." He assures him again, readjusting himself slightly beneath you. "But you know what, I uh─I might have to call you back."
Before you're even able to wrap your lips around him, he's threading a hand into your hair, pulling you up so that you're face to face with him now.
"Were you not aware that I was on a call?" He asks, pressing his mouth into a line as he looks at you.
"I was aware."
"Hm." He hums, twirling a finger through your hair. "What am I gonna do with you?"
Before you have a chance to offer him any suggestions, he's flipping you onto your back, his fingers snaking around your throat as he hovers over you.
"As much as I loved your hand around my dick." He smirks, his free hand trailing down your body. "You really shouldn't interrupt my calls like that."
"What're you gonna do about it?"
He doesn't offer you an answer, and instead you feel his fingers slide beneath the waistband of your jeans.
"Now, you've been a bad bad girl," he tuts, pressing a finger against you through the fabric of your panties. "And bad girls get punished."
You laugh. "And how is this a punishment?"
"Oh, you'll see." He smirks, sliding his hand inside your panties, his fingers swirling around your clit.
You sigh, throwing your head back into the pillows when he pushes a finger inside of you.
Except, he doesn't move, instead choosing to remain painfully still, a wicked smirk on his face as he looks down at you.
"Damon," you whine, looking down to where his hand had disappeared in your jeans. "Come on."
"What? I'm not doing anything."
"Exactly, you're not doing anything."
"What would you like me to do?" He asks, a knowing grin on his face as he moves his hand ever so slightly against you. "You want me to fuck you?"
"Yes," you sigh, nodding your head at him.
"Apologise."
"What?"
He smirks. "You interrupted my call. Apologise."
You continue to resist, shifting uncomfortably beneath him, but he won't let up.
"If you apologise," he says, slipping his hand out of your jeans now. "Then I'll give you what you want."
"Okay, I'm sorry," you finally say, giving in.
"That's right."
And with that, he's flipping you over onto your front, his hands already tugging your jeans off. And within seconds, he's inside you, already moving at a brutal pace as he holds you up, rough fingers digging into your ass.
"God," you moan, your mouth twisting into a smile as he fucks you. "I'm so so sorry. So sorry."
"And I forgive you."
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[Main Masterlist]
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catnippackets · 2 months
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disclaimer: as a sex-repulsed aroace person myself--
on one hand, there is definitely a bit of a double standard when it comes to handling canonically queer characters like, from what I've seen in the circles that I frequent (if you've had different experiences then great but I'm just telling it how I see it). for example, you're morally reprehensible if you ship a canon lesbian with a man or refer to a canon bi character as a lesbian. people will be so angry with you. and it's understandable, since there's so little queer rep in comparison to cishet rep that when there IS a rare actual queer character, the unofficial rule is "don't take that away from them when you add more headcanons to them". like, respect that this one is REAL and NOT just a headcanon. I think it makes perfect sense to feel upset when people take that away, even if it is just fiction and not even canon to the original source. and yet, whenever there exists a canon asexual character suddenly it's all "oh well asexual people can still have sex so it's fine if we headcanon THIS canon sexuality as something different". it makes me feel so genuinely heartache-y and depressed to see ppl ignoring that aspect of a character.
and by "canon" I'm also including characters that were never specifically referred to with a label but are very obviously coded as something, because those characters will still get the "even if it's not stated it's pretty obvious!!" treatment when it comes to showing attraction to the same gender, but not when they DON'T show attraction to any gender. like aro and/or ace coding just doesn't count. I understand that it's kind of hard to represent an absence of something, especially when you're only implying it and not even directly showing it, but it's not impossible. there's a lot of characters that you could argue are aroace coded the same way you could argue a character is gay coded. obviously to a degree every queer identity gets disrespected in fandom and it's something you just kinda have to deal with, but it's easier to notice when it's something you personally relate to. I don't think it would bother me as much if we didn't have that unofficial "respect the canon" rule and everyone just went wild with whatever, but the double standard does genuinely hurt me, especially when I see people I thought were cool about this stuff participating in it. so whenever I see someone fiercely defending an asexual character it really makes me feel good, like I'M being defended, not a random fictional character that I might not even recognize the name of. I feel safe, like that person will respect ME.
THAT BEING SAID,
AS a sex-repulsed aroace person who enjoys thinking about the entire spectrum of intimacy and where a character may fall exactly on that spectrum, ALSO as a person who is aware that "asexual" simply means "does not experience sexual attraction" and not necessarily "is violently repulsed by anything sexual", sometimes I DO want to play out scenarios for my own enjoyment. sometimes I DO want to think hm I wonder where this ace character's line is, compared to a different ace character. I wonder if there is anyone who would be an exception for them, and how they could go about dealing with that exception. I wonder if they're favourable, neutral, or repulsed. if those aspects of their character aren't explicitly stated then what's to stop me from playing around with them and working through my own issues in a controlled and non-canon environment? if they have the same identity as me, I am way more likely to want to play around with them like a doll and perhaps play out scenarios that I might have thought about before but don't actually want to do for real. I'm not taking away their identity, after all; I'm just, in this scenario, imagining this ace character as an ace that might have sex on at least one occasion for whatever reason. either just to try it, or because they do have someone they'd make an exception for, or if they got bored enough, whatever the reason. it isn't quite disrespecting their truth unless it's explicitly stated either in canon or by word of god that it's something they're uncomfortable with. and to be honest, if I see another asexual creator headcanoning a character as somewhere on the asexual spectrum and depicting them in sexual situations, it makes me almost happy, to know that they're still acknowledging that character's canon identity and accepting and exploring the nuance that could come with it, even if I personally believe that this specific character would be repulsed instead of neutral or favourable. there's this understanding of "I'm doing a character study exploration thing", and not "I don't care I just wanna sexualize this character"
but I literally feel GUILTY when I want to write what is essentially a thinkpiece disguised as a fanfiction or original story on asexuality and take an asexual character (canon or coded) and involve them in sexual situations to explore different avenues of the spectrum. I feel like I'm betraying everyone who's like me and is frustrated with how aroace characters are treated within fandom. I'm like "am I being just as bad as those other people who will disrespect a character's canon sexuality just because they think that character is hot and want to ship them with someone? do they do the same thing with other types of queer characters? how does this reflect that person's view of people, if they're explicitly told someone feels a certain way and decides to ignore it for their own amusement? or is it just because they're fictional and not real people and I'm being really sensitive and thinking way too much into it? am I not doing the exact same thing? do I have more credence to explore scenarios like this because I am aroace and sex-repulsed myself and therefore have a pass to do whatever I want and it won't come off as a little weird the way it might if someone who's allosexual did it?"
and these two opinions are at war in my mind constantly. like both of them can and do co-exist but I still struggle to accept that lol
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taylorman2274 · 3 months
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We Care About You (Part II)
The aftermath that follows is a struggle for everyone to comprehend.
Content Warning(s): N/A
Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader
Word Count: 1k
Previous || Next
Taglist: @silverstarred
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The past few days have been hard for your mind to wrap around.
Ever since that particular incident you had while playing Genshin, you've been extremely hesitant to log back on. Now that you knew all the people of Teyvat were self-aware, you were scared to imagine what they thought of you.
"Have they been self-aware the entire time that I've been playing? Have they always been able to hear my voice whenever I spoke aloud? Do the Traveler and their friends hate me for forcibly controlling their movements and actions like puppets? If that's the case, wouldn't it be better for me to leave them alone without letting them know?"
It doesn't seem like there's any part of your day where you're not thinking about how to follow up with the world of Genshin Impact. In fact, it's gotten so bad for you that some of your friends have noticed your change in mood and asked if anything was wrong.
Knowing that this situation is not only unheard of but also impossible to comprehend for anyone, you simply told them that you were dealing with personal issues, which honestly isn't that far from the truth.
Eventually, you began to worry if some of the people in Teyvat would figure out a way to reach you beyond the computer should you not reach back to them soon. In the past, you would've laughed at such a thought. But now that you've witnessed the impossible, you didn't want to wait around and find out.
"If I'm going to continue playing Genshin, I should at least try and accommodate their needs and wants better."
As much as you didn't want to delay your return to Genshin any further, you felt that researching all of your current playable character's needs, wants, likes, and dislikes took top priority over anything else in your life right now.
...Well...besides your needs and wants.
First, you took note of their favorite and least favorite foods. You would feel pretty bad if you kept feeding them food that wasn't their preference. Especially since characters like Lisa and Ganyu were vegetarians.
Second, you took note of everyone's talents. While you know that some characters had passive talents which gave you extra dishes when cooking or extra materials when crafting, you felt that those jobs should be left to the professionals, such as Xiangling and Albedo respectively.
"Let's see. First off, I should probably remove the people in my party with full-time jobs, as they take priority over exploring with the Traveler. So I should probably replace any Knights of Favonius, Liyue Qixing, Tri-Commission Member, etc. However, that doesn't exactly leave me with a lot of options to choose from. Although Xiangling works for Wanmin Restaurant, she's currently exploring Teyvat for ingredients. I assume accompanying the traveler would be fine with her. Bennett works for the Adventure's Guild so that works as well. But that also leaves me with a Pyro-heavy party, which may pose a problem for enemies such as Pyro slimes..."
However, the more you spent time researching, the more pessimistic and depressed you began to feel. Here you were spending all this effort trying to accommodate to all the characters you've obtained without even knowing if they gave a single thought or care in the world towards you.
"...I never really asked if they wanted to join the Traveler's adventures. ...So...maybe I should just only use the Traveler...?"
You sighed deeply. This was not gonna be good for your mental health.
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Meanwhile...
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The Traveler didn't know what to think.
On one hand, they were happy that [Y/N] was getting some much deserved rest. On top of that, they were also happy that they got to have a break from doing commissions all the time. But on the otherhand...
They were really starting to miss you.
This is the longest that they have gone without feeling your presence and they were starting to worry if they had accidentally scared you off due to that incident.
The incident that revealed Teyvat's self-awareness.
"...You're thinking about [Y/N] again, aren't you?" Paimon asked.
The Traveler chuckled sadly. "Is it really that obvious?"
"Kind of? Paimon thinks that's what everyone is thinking about."
They believe her. Zhongli, Venti, and a few others had reached out to them over the past couple of days for any news about [Y/N]. They were saddened by their expressions when they told them they had no news to give.
..."Y/N..." The Traveler sighed.
"Hmm?" Paimon hummed in thought, "What was that?"
"...To think that was their name all along. And to even think that they may be just as human as most people in Teyvat! It’s honestly kind of relieving when you think about it.
Although they weren't going to lie. At first, they saw [Y/N] as an unknown entity that possessed them to do its bidding. It was scary at first, knowing that neither them nor Paimon were able to figure out a way to interact with or avoid it. However, after solving both Mondstadt's and Liyue's respectable crises and powering them up with newfound strength, they started to see you as a sort of companion similar to Paimon.
"Yeah, even Paimon is starting to miss traveling and exploring with them."
"Is that so?" The Traveler taunted, "I thought that at one point you were trying to prove yourself as the better guide?"
"Hey! Paimon told you already that she has proved herself as the superior guide time and time again." She exclaimed as she crossed her arms.
They laughed. It felt nice to tease Paimon like this to distract them from the lack of [Y/N]'s presence, but they were starting to feel like they couldn't keep this up forever.
"Regardless, Paimon hopes that [Y/N] comes back soon. Everybody will feel a lot better once they do."
The Traveler looked up to the night sky and watched the stars flicker with light. Paimon followed their gaze and gave a sorrowful frown.
"I hope so too."
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Author Side Notes: I had an idea.
But in all seriousness, I'm flattered by all the positive comments, reblogs, and likes from the previous post. I only expected to get around 20 notes since it was my first post but somehow I've ended up at 800+ and counting? It's almost too much for me to handle lol.
As for the rest of this story, I've decided that it will likely take around six parts for me to reach its conclusion. We've got two down so far, so that makes four more to go. Of course, that's only if y'all want to read more.
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scarletlizzard · 3 months
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Epilogue
Sessions Series
Paring: stalker Wanda x female reader
Tags Minors DNI: stalking, mentions of a knife, smut, smidge of somnophilia, fingering, strap on use (R Receiving), surprisingly fluff. This type of relationship is super toxic, okay!!
Masterlist
A/N: Thank y'all so so much for reading this series. Truly has been so nice seeing everyones comments and reblogs (the tags kill me every time)! This was my first series and hopefully there will be more, I really enjoy writing and am happy to share with you kind people. Let me know if you have any questions, would love to know what you think!! Thanks 💚💚
New Years Eve 2018
Your senses were heightened as you became aware of a set of eyes on you. Her gaze fixated on you from across the room, behind the crowd of people that swarmed around you. You watch with a familiar spark in your chest, a sense of safety that your shadow was watching over you.
"They're about to start the countdown, I'm going to find Maria!" Natasha yells closely to your ear, breaking the eye contact you held with Wanda.
You give her a small smile and nod, "Alright, find me after!" Before kissing her cheek and giving her a short hug. You watch your best friend push through the crowd until you can no longer see her red head, and your eyes travel back to your shadow. Panic settles in when you realize she's nowhere to be found.
Around you people begin pairing off, touch hungry ones scanning the crowd for a last chance at a kiss before the New Year. A touch on your shoulder makes you smile and turn around, but instead of seeing your Wanda, you see a drunk man attempting to balance himself in front of you.
"Hi sweetie," he slurs, resting his hand on your shoulder. The '2019' glasses he wore took up most of his face, a drink in his other hand sloshed onto your shoes.
"I'm sorry, I'm looking for someone..." You groan and try to push his hand off of your shoulder. To your suprise, he keeps it there.
"I'm somebody, you found me!" His words slur together as he presses closer.
"Seriously? Get off!" You raise your voice and put your hands on his broad chest, pushing him back. It's only a second later that you feel a body pressed against you from behind, the intoxicating scent wrapping around you.
"Hey man, I'd back off." Wandas husky voice sounds from behind you, but she moves to step in front of you as the man steps forward again.
He laughs and holds up his drink towards her, "We're just having fun, you wanna join in?" He slurs again, and Wanda makes a face of disgust.
"Just go away before we do something we'll both regret," she threatens. It's then you notice her hand is behind her back, settled on what you know is a blade hidden underneath her jacket.
Instinctively you reach out, resting your hand on top of hers. You watch as her shoulders drop and her grip on the handle softens. A blush creeps up your neck as you once again realize the affect you had on her.
Who, really, was the mouse?
"Fine, fine, you two are no fun," the man mumbles with a shrug, leaving the two of you in the crowd.
Before Wanda can turn around, you wrap your arms around her stomach, hugging her from behind. You feel soft vibrations from her back as she chuckles, turning in your arms.
"Okay, little mouse?" She asks softly, her demeanor changed in an instant as her green eyes meet yours. You nod and slide your hands up to her shoulders.
"I was hoping you would show up," you bite back a smirk as she leans in. The crowd begins counting down, signaling the seconds to midnight.
10... 9... 8...
"I'm always there, you know that," Wanda rasps in your ear, placing a soft kiss just below.
7... 6... 5...
The thought doesn't bother you, of her always being there watching. Waiting. Instead of dread, you felt comfort. You knew she would always be there. One hand cups her face as she continues to leave soft kisses across your jaw.
You would take any bad, as long as you had this good. As long as you had Wanda.
4... 3... 2... 1...
As cheers errupt around you, shouting, "Happy New Year!" You waste no time pressing your lips to hers, your fingers tangling into her soft brown hair. Wanda holds you tightly against her as she slips her tongue into your parted mouth. You savor the flavor of mint on her tongue, biting down softly on her bottom lip. She groans into the kiss, and you can't help but smile.
"You're going to be the death of me, little mouse..." she sighs onto your lips, and you nod.
"You love it..." You giggle, causing her to laugh. She pulls back with an unfamiliar look in her eyes, lips parted like she wants to say something. You wait, but only watch as they pull into a crooked grin before kissing you again.
***
January 2019
Wanda peers through the darkness into the windows of your house, her figure disconcernable against the shadows.
You walk around, a prickling sensation on the back of your neck, knowing someone is watching your every move. Despite the comforting warmth in the room, a shiver runs down your spine, knowing your shadow was just outside.
But instead of fear, instead of unease, you simply walk to the front of the house and stare out the window.
Wanda remains concealed, her presence a silent observer in the stillness of the night. She looks with curious eyes before realizing what you were doing, and a smirk forms on her face.
Your hands move to the locks, opening them up with a 'click'. As you stare off into the shadows, a sense of vulnerability washes over you, the feeling of leaving the windows unlocked. You have to lock and unlock it three more times before you're comfortable.
"Little mouse.." A whisper in the dark, a body next to yours as you stir in your sleep.
You could've sworn it was a dream as her hand traveled down your body, cupping your clothed pussy. She ran small circles over your clit, the clothing between become wetter. You felt your skin burn under the covers, aching for her as she teases you. Then her hand slides inside of your pants, rubbing against your now sensitive clit.
You awake with a start and attempt to sit up, but her other hand immediately covers your mouth and presses you back onto the pillow. Your hands fly up to her wrist that held a hand over your mouth, your breathing ragged as you attempted to figure out what was going on.
"It's okay, pretty girl. Just let me take care of you.." Wanda whispers, slipping her fingers inside of you. Her body presses further against you as she moves her wrist, her fingers pumping in and out of you at a quicker pace. Your moans muffle from her hand on your mouth.
"Such a good little mouse.." She praises, trapping your moans into the palm of her hand. "You were just begging for me to sneak in, needed me to come fuck you huh?" Her tone is condescending, but you only groan in response as her lips attach to your neck.
"That's it, just like that," Wanda chuckles darkly as you squeeze her fingers tightly, her thumb moving circles on your clit. "Now I want you to be a good girl and cum on my fingers, okay?"
As she sucks the skin on your collarbone, you follow as she commands, coming on her fingers and biting down harshly on her hand. Wanda moans at the feeling and the way you fall apart for her. You knew by the sound of her belt unbuckling that it would only be the first of the night.
***
February 2019
"So you and Wanda, huh?" Natasha laughs, shaking her head. "Was the therapy that good?"
Your face turns a dark shade of red as you think back on your sessions, the dark road it led you down. You shrug and take a sip of coffee, "I suppose it was..."
There was no way you could tell Natasha everything. You wouldn't. The Cat and Mouse game you and Wanda played was special, just for the two of you. But there was no way you could hide your feelings for her anymore, or the marks she left on your body, from your best friend.
"You're happy?"
"For the first time in a long time," you answer honestly. Through the whirlwind of emotions Wanda caused you, you knew you were.
"Taking your medication again?" Natasha raises an eyebrow as you tap the side of your cup 4 times absemindetly.
"It'll never go away..." You refer to your compulsion, "But I'm learning to cope with it."
"Good! Now, when are we going to go on a double date?" She smiles widely at you.
A date... you couldn't imagine Wanda taking you on a date. Maybe you could sit at a nice restaurant and she would watch from across the street. Maybe four rows away from you as you sit in a movie theater. Would it always be this way? Always about the chase?
"Hopefully soon," is all you say, a small smile planted on your lips.
***
May 2019
The microwave beeps from across the kitchen, and you set your glass of wine down before walking over and pulling out a bag of freshly popped popcorn.
Wanda watches hidden in the shadows as you grab a second glass, filling it up and topping off your own. She raises an eyebrow at the sight. Jealousy seeps in through all the cracks of her chest. She knew for a fact that Natasha was with her girlfriend tonight, and you never had anyone else over, especially this late at night.
Two glasses of wine sit on the counter along with a bowl of popcorn as you grab your phone. Her heart races as she sees the smile spread across your lips as you stare at the small screen.
A vibrate from her pocket distracts her from you.
Wanda takes her phone out to check the text, shaking her head with a sigh. She laughs at the message with the ridiculous nickname. It was only fair, she supposed.
You - Want to watch a movie, kitty?
She looks up from the screen to see you standing by the window, waving at her. Wanda tucks her phone back in her jeans and walks towards your house, where she finds the front door unlocked.
"Do you ever get tired of watching?" You ask curiously. Wanda now sat next to you on the couch, her arm wrapped around your shoulders as you leaned into her warmth. New and uncharted territory, the most normal interaction the two of you had privately. It felt so natural. You longed for this.
"No," she answers sternly, reaching into the bowl you held and tossing some popcorn into her mouth.
In the months Wanda had revealed herself as your shadow the two of you became closer, but she still felt out of reach. You noticed during sex that she would never let you touch her, and you craved to reach out and caress her. You didn't know why, and any time you tried to ask her, she would shut it down and become distant. Wanda still watched, too, every night. Any time she wasn't in the room with you, you could feel her eyes on you. By now, you didn't mind it, but you were starting to want... more.
"What if you... didn't have to go far to watch me?" You ask casually, keeping your eyes on the movie that played in front of you.
"What do you mean?" Wanda asks, and by the tone of voice, you could tell she knew what you meant. She wanted to hear you say it.
You lean forward to set down the bowl on the coffee table and move to situate yourself to sit on her lap. Your legs straddled her thighs, and your hands rested on her shoulders. You let the nail on your finger scratch up and down the side of her neck softly.
"Baby.." You whisper to her, feeling her strong hands grip your waist. For some reason, Wanda loved when you called her that, and you saved it for times like this.
You grab her jaw in your hand, tilting it to the side so you had full access to her neck. Your lips descend upon the soft skin, tongue licking a stripe to her pulse point. Wanda shifts beneath you, fingers fidgeting against your hips as you begin to bite down and suck.
"Is that what you want then, little mouse? Did you fully think about what that means?" Her voice is laced with lust as you trail down and leave another mark. "It means you'll never be alone, you won't sleep alone. It means I can use you whenever I please..." Wandas hands travel underneath your shirt, exploring your back.
"I know.." You mumble against her skin, your hips rolling slightly down against her to find she was definitely packing.
"It means you'll belong to me. You'll be mine, completely," Wanda growls as you leave another mark, her senses failing her as you continue to grind against her.
But you stop suddenly and remove your lips from her neck, your hands on either side of her face.
"I always was, baby. I am... completely," you whisper and look into her eyes, finding that same look she gave you on New Years Eve.
Wanda kisses you passionately, slipping her tongue into your mouth the second she can. Her hands travel your body before she's pulling your shirt over your head, you do the same for her.
"I need you so fucking bad," you groan against her lips, the ache between your legs growing as you throb around nothing. Wanda nods and hums in response, lifting you up and laying your back on the couch.
She slides her hand into your panties, feeling just how badly you needed her. "All mine, huh?" Wanda chuckles as her fingers pump inside of you.
"Completely," you moan out as she begins kissing your chest. You reach around her to undo her bra, sliding it away so you can feel her breasts pressed against you.
Wanda marks your skin as hers, fingering you until you're falling apart underneath her. You watch with wide eyes as she takes her fingers out of you and puts them into her own mouth, sucking your juices off of them.
"Mmm, you taste so good, pretty girl.." Wanda gushes and then chuckles as a whimper leaves your mouth. She then leans down and kisses you in a quick and sloppy kiss, letting you taste yourself on her tongue. She parts to unzip her jeans, sliding them off of her before lining her strap up between your legs.
Wanda slides in, filling you up completely with her faux cock. The position, the closeness, this was all so new. Usually you were bound or on your stomach. This was different. It was so much more intimate. She moves her hips slowly against yours, a low moan escaping her throat.
"So good, detka.. always so fucking good," she groans and lets out a few Sokovian curses as she thrusts harder into you. Her arms rest on either side of you, holding her weight above you. You take the opportunity to wrap your arms around her.
She tenses and begins to pull back, but your legs wrap around her hips tightly to pull her closer into you. You both moan at the feeling of closeness, her being deeper than ever in you, and Wanda finds herself lost in you. She lets your hands roam the skin on her back as she fucks you.
"Baby - feels so good!" You cry out in her ear, the weight of her body pressed down onto you as she grunts against your neck. Your nails scratch down her back, causing a guttural moan to escape her lips. You throb around the plastic cock at the sound of it, wanting her as close as possible.
"I know, I know... so good... Christ," she praises you and moans in agreement, pace picking up. You can feel the muscles in her back flex as she pounds into you. The way she's moaning into your skin, you can tell she's close.
She fills you completely with every thrust, hitting that one spot that makes you see stars over and over again. Your fingers feel every inch of skin she'll let you touch, from the few moles that spread along the top below her shoulders to her back dimples on the bottom. You let your nails mark into her skin again, and Wanda feels on cloud 9. Pure bliss.
"Fuck, pretty girl I'm gonna cum," Wanda moans in your ear and picks her head up to look in your eyes, finding only pleasure written on your face. You nod at her words and hold onto her back, your legs still gripping tightly around her hips to bring her desperately closer to you.
"Me too, baby, I-I'm so close!" You gasp, feeling her lips on yours.
"Fuck, fuck! Always.. so good, fuck, I love you so much.. oh God," Wanda moans into your mouth as she thrusts into you, fucking you hard into the couch. You don't have time to register what she says before the tight coil that had built up inside you releases. A wave of pleasure crashing over you.
The two of you come at the same time, the sounds of your moans and Wanda chanting your name as she slaps her hips into yours. Wanda slows to a stop once she's sure she's taken everything she can from you.
Your chest moves rapidly as you look up at her, her jaw tense as she lets out one last groan. The muscles in her back tense up as your fingers trace small circles on her skin, and she begins to move away.
"Stay... don't move, please?" You whisper, pleading with her. Wanda sighs and gives in, too tired to move. Your heart races as you replay her words over and over again in your mind.
You bring your other hand up, stroking her brown strands of hair that splayed across the two of you and closed your eyes. Wandas arms wrap tightly underneath you as she rests her head in the crook of your neck.
She had never let you hold her like this before, touch her like this. You knew what she said was true. Her words were not just words spoken lightly. Maybe she hadn't meant to say it then, but you knew she loved you. You knew she would never let you go, even if you didn't love her back.
But you did. With all of your mind, body, and soul. Everything that you were, are, and will be.
More than you loved the special bottle of red that sat on the counter, more than the feeling of a paintbrush in your hand, more than I Love Lucy, more than counting to four.
Wandas breathing slows against your neck, her body fully relaxed as you caress her. You had never seen or felt her so at ease before.
"I love you..." You whisper as you hear soft snores fall from her lips.
It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep after, the sounds of her quiet snores and slow breathing along with the comforting weight of her body on top of yours, lull you to sleep.
Dreaming, hoping, there was a way Wanda would give in to you.
To let the game fade away.
But when you awake in the morning, you're alone on the couch. A blanket covers your naked body, hopes and dreams fading away into reality.
Wanda was gone, and the worst part was you knew she would be back, out of reach again.
You give yourself a moment on the couch, only a moment to cry, before wiping your tears and shaking the sounds of her soft snores out of your mind. The way her body melted into yours as your hearts beat insync, the way she kissed you lovingly, the words "I love you" slipping from her lips in a desperate, intimate moment. It was all a game, after all.
The wine glasses and popcorn bowl were missing from the coffee table. Curious, you wrap the blanket around your body and walk to the kitchen. The dishes were clean and sitting on the drying rack. It was then you saw on the counter a glass of water and a bottle of your medication along with a paper and pen. You slowly pick up the paper, an old receipt you had lying around, and read the note:
I'll be back later with some boxes. Don't forget to take your medicine.
The curved letters tug at your heartstrings, the next lines causing another spark to ignite in your chest.
I love you
I love you
I love you
I love you
If the game was still afoot, Wanda was winning, because you were utterly and irrevocably hers.
***
October 2019
In the sunlit room, you stood in front of a canvas, wooden brush in hand. Each stroke, movements precise and deliberate, guided by a vision taking form in your mind. You inhale the scent of oil paint as you take some more on your brush before leaning in, adding intricate detail to breathe life into your creation. Time seems to stop as you lose yourself to the creative side of your brain.
You don't hear the creak of the door opening, or feel Wandas gaze on you as she stands in the doorway, admiring you.
The large button down you wore loosely was covered in paint, a work of art in itself from all the leftover paint of paintings you had done. You hummed along to the music, playing softly behind you, tongue between your teeth and brows scrunched together as you concentrated on the small details.
Wanda can't help the crooked smile on her face as she takes in the sight of you in your element. Her heart pounding out of her chest as you brush a piece of fallen hair out of your face. She walks closer, setting her hands on your waist.
You gasp at her touch, the feeling of her nose tickles your ear as she kisses your neck.
"Baby.. you scared me," you giggle and rest a hand on top of hers, leaning back against her.
There it was again, that feeling Wanda would never get used to. The feeling that wanted to drop her to her knees right there and whisper devotions between your legs, something she did more often since you had moved in with her.
"I got tired of watching," Wanda jokes, a rumble in her chest as she laughs. You turn yourself in her arms, resting your hands on her chest.
"I don't mind you watching... but I prefer you touching," you whisper the last part sinfully, the word darkening Wandas emerald eyes. She picks you up easily, you squeal with excitement, and wrap your legs around her waist.
And there on the floor, in the room Wanda had transformed into your art studio, she whispered those devotions against your skin and between your legs.
You lay on the cloth tarp that covered the floor underneath your canvas, drawing patterns on the skin of Wandas stomach. You turn in her arm to look at her.
A jaw sculpted by God, green eyes blessed by the angels, and a smile gifted from the Devil.
The sun shines on her face, highlighting smudges of green paint on her cheek. You giggle and let your fingers travel to the colored paint stripes spread across her body, a handprint on her shoulder.
"You're my favorite work of art," you murmur to her, feeling her thumb brush the paint on your hips. She smiles, your favorite crooked smile.
"Little mouse?" Wanda asks, her voice low and calm as she stares into your eyes.
"Yes, baby?"
"Marry me.."
And it's not a question, it's a statement. A declaration. You didn't need a moment to think, because you already knew you were hers, forever.
"Yes," you say anyways, nodding your head. Wandas' smile widens, and she lifts you on top of her, kissing you the best she could without letting her smile go.
***
Christmas Day 2021
The snow crunches under Wandas' boots as she watches you walk from the kitchen to the living room, a towel on your shoulder. Your hands fumbled with something unseen, hidden from her view. Your brows furrowed in concentration, and you shook your head, mumbling something to yourself.
And then you looked up and saw her. The widest smile overcame your face. You radiated pure joy.
Wandas' heart sped up at the sight of you as she carried wood and walked towards the front door.
"Reminiscing, kitty?" You purr as you greet her at the door with a kiss and a hug, she hums against your lips.
"You don't miss it, little mouse?" Wanda chuckles and kisses your jaw, the wood dropping to the floor.
"Not when I have all this..." You sigh happily as she kisses down your neck, her hands moving under your shirt.
A cry from the other room interrupts the moment.
"Mm, those boys always know when to start, don't they?" She mumbles, "I knew when I heard twins, they would be trouble."
Wanda hears a radiant laugh escape your lips, and she gives you a crooked smile in return. You cup her face in your hands, the ring on your fourth finger on the left hand is cool against her cheek.
"I loved you then, and I love you even more now, Wanda.." you whisper, breath fanning against her face.
"I love you even more, little mouse.." she says softly, giving you one last kiss before walking into the living room, your hand in hers.
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moooncats · 3 months
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✿ Pick A Card: Traits/Aura of Future Spouse ✿
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✿ Pile 1 : Clarity & Generousity ✿
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✿ The Giver ✿
Your future spouse is very much advanced when it comes to deep thinking into ones own conscious. They know how to separate their own intuition from the mental chatter that is going on in their heads. The clarity of their intuition is a sweet, simple fruit that tastes familiar to them. The mental chatter is a bitter rind that they peel off and chuck into the garbage (or compost heap, when their mental chatter seems to be organic cx ). They are also very generous, they will shower you with compliments, gifts, anything they can physically give to you. I'm seeing the giving tree in my minds eye. They will always be there for you and will love to be the one that you count and depend on. No matter how much, or how little they have, they will give, give, give. They intuitively know that there is enough to go around, and the main key is to allow it to keep going so the cycle can continue on forever- without stopping. If they don't give it is like they are the one person in the stadium who doesn't do the wave.
✿ Future spouses Aura: Green tones ✿
Your future spouse may have a green thumb and devle in green magick. If you don't know what that means, they are a master planter when it comes to bringing green life into fruition. They may also be rich as well as green is the color of money. Green is the heart chakra, they have many love to give when it comes to you and their heart chakra is forever open you those around them. It is quite infectious! They have unconditional love, empathy, and emotional equilibrium. (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) 🌱✨️
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✿ Pile 2 : Trust & Warmth ✿
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✿ The Gentle Giant ✿
Your future spouse has trust in the divine universe and is very brave when it comes to knowing that everything will be fine in the end. They have this instinct knowing in their gut that everything is always going to be okay. They rather live a fun life with trust and confidence than be a defensive weiner. All their focus is geared towards warmth. They let it guide every interaction that they have with all beings, little or big. No matter how other's behave, they choose to respond warmly. With warmth, they can melt any icy exterior. They can soften any hard feelings. They have adopted the saying "kill them with kindness". Omg pile 2, I'm hearing "Cuddly Teddy Bear"! Your future spouse is a Gentle Giant and they choose to be the kind one in every and any situation. They have lived many lifetimes. This is not their first time around the block. Their empathy shows no bounds when it comes to you and others in their vicinity.
✿ Future Spouses Aura : Blue/Purple & Indigo ✿
Your future spouse uses their throat chakra a lot to convey sweet and empathic messages to the world. They do not shy from spreading peace and positivity out into the world. They are also very much in tune with their intuition and gives trust to the universe to guide them and give them hidden messages. They are very self aware and give into their gut feeling and 6th sense. I'm hearing when you two meet they will know instantly as you are litteraly the person that they have been having constant dreams about. Omg this is so cute pile 2!! I love this for you. 🌠💫✨️ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ
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✿ Pile 3 : Individuality & Boundless Love ✿
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✿ The Alien ✿
Your future spouse was definitely the black sheep of society. Pile 3, I am going to be honest with you- this is the pile that I had a bit of trouble getting energy from. Your future spouse is very independant and they like to be lowkey. Take what you may with that information. Okayyy, now back to the reading. I'm hearing they may have a mental illness (Autism, Schizophrenia, OCD, ADD, etc) that has caused them to look through the lesnses of life with their own flare and style. Im hearing Neuro Divergent. They show delight in being their own quirky person, even if they connect with their friends/family/siblings/children/cousins/cats/dogs/sea monkeys- they see the unique beauty in being their own (sometimes crazy cx ) self. It's alright if their near (or far) and (mostly) dear ones don't always understand them. To be honest, they kinda take it as a compliment. Because of being a black sheep/ alien can cause isolation to some, they have developed an amazing super power- boundless love. They made sure to have their heart open for everyone so they can be known as a person who is just flipping wholesome! On the outside they may look a bit eccentric, or odd looking... but once you get to know them you'll see how multi faceted and just delighful they are! (: They understand that the world is filled with tiny miracles, with this in mind it is quite easy for them to fall in love over and over again, with anything from the honey bee's to neon signs. Whenever they are feeling inspired to love- everything sort of just falls into place.
✿ Future Spouses Aura : Light Tan / Blue ✿
They are so unique! Omg, Light tan is connected with brown. They are very earthly and in tuned with the inner core of the world. They may have had emotional trauma and learned coping mechanisms as a child to deal with it. With the additions of blue, they are in tuned with their throat chakra. They do not shy away from saying things that come from their uniquely structured brain and will have a blast partaking in deep thought provoking conversations with you! 🧠🗣✨️(✿◠‿◠)
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Mahalo for reading my 4th ever tarot reading! This is my first time playing with colors and do I dare say, I am digging it! (: Please remember to hydrate and continue on being your amazing selves. I love you all, moooncats out! (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)🚀🌌✨️
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forever-rogue · 11 months
Note
Omg for miguel requests!! Can i request one where spider-reader is very bold and always flirting with miguel and one time he flirts back and she gets super flustered and doesnt know how to respond😭
Thank you so much!! I love your writing youre so talented
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AN | No, but this concept was aces! I hope you enjoy 🥰
Warnings | [Suggestive] Language
Pairing | Miguel x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 2.6k
Masterlist | Main, Spider-Man
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You could hear his angry footsteps before anything else and you braced yourself for his fury. Instead you busied yourself with looking at your suit to make sure everything was intact…or at least pretending to do so.
"What the fuck were you thinking!?" ahh yes, there it was. He was definitely angry, but you tried to keep it cool. You weren't about to admit that he made you nervous, even if the nerves were slight. You looked up from your sleeve and blinked innocently at him, "don't do that!"
"Do what?" You kept your voice sweet and soft, "what are you talking about, Miguel?"
"You - I - you are so infuriating!" he waved his finger in front of your face and you simply shrugged, "you never listen to me! I don't know why I even let you stay on the team!"
"Oh Miguelito," you gently reached up and brushed his hand out of your face. You were well aware of what he was talking about - you'd directly gone against his orders. But, to be fair, things had turned out just fine despite choosing your own method. It wasn't like you'd fucked up some cannon event, "everything's fine and no one got hurt!"
"But you don't listen," he sighed heavily, "that's the problem. And one day, it's going to get someone hurt. I'm not going to let you do that to anyone…or yourself."
"You're so cute," a dreamy sigh escaped your lips as you touched his face, brushing your knuckles across his cheek. He lightly slapped your hand away, "but you're going to give yourself wrinkles if you keep worrying."
"I'm being serious!"
"So am I," you raised your eyebrows and sighed at him, "I won't do anything bad and I'd never put anyone else in danger. You know that."
"One more fuck up from you and you're done," his voice was low and dangerous and you pulled back slightly, "I mean it. Just because you think you're so cute and charming doesn't mean I can't see right through you."
"Miguel," you looked at him with wide eyes, "I don't think I'm cute - I know I'm cute. But not as cute as you, handsome. Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta go and make a few suit adjustments."
"This isn't over!" His cheeks darkened as he watched you walk away. 
"I'd be disappointed if it was," you gave him a small salute, "see ya, Miguelito!"
He let out a sigh of exasperation as you walked away. It was definitely a challenge not to stare at your ass but he was just a man after all. So he definitely stared at your ass.
"Stop staring," Peter popped up behind him, causing Miguel to flinch, "just tell her you're in love!"
"I'm not…" he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I'm not in love with her and I'm not doing this with you right. Get back to work, Parker."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It had been a few days since what you had decided to dub the incident had occurred. You'd more or less ignored Miguel, deciding to let him cool down on his own terms. You missed getting to give him a hard time and missed getting to tease him as you loved. 
The thing was, you didn’t hate Miguel. It was…quite the contrary in fact. Over the last year that you’d been working for the man, or on his silly little team as you liked to tease him, you’d found yourself getting more and more attached to him. You really liked him and you weren’t shy about letting him know. You thought you were being obvious, but apparently you weren’t obvious at all because he didn’t seem to get it. Or, if he did, he really wasn’t interested and chose not to acknowledge your moves. It was Miguel though, and you were sure he would have just told you…but then again, would he have? Maybe he was just a simple-”
“What’s wrong, princess?” you started at the sound of his low, gruff voice. You hadn’t heard him sneak up and his sudden appearance almost scared you off your chair. Clutching at your heart, you looked over to see Miguel leaning against the edge of your desk, a lazy smile on his face. You were stunned by both his appearance and his casual display of affection, and could only manage to open and close your mouth a few times, “cat got your tongue?”
“Miguel?” you looked at him with wide eyes, “w-what are you doing…here?”
“Just wanted to come and see my favorite girl,” okay, there was definitely something going on. You highly doubted you were his favorite girl (that was probably Jessica or Mayday), let alone his favorite anything, “I have something for you.”
“For me?” your mouth ran dry as he nodded. Was he flirting with you? Surely he couldn’t be, “what would that be?”
“Here,” he reached behind his back and pulled out what looked like your suit…only this was slightly different. He placed it on the desk in front of you before moving to stand behind you. His larger frame easily dwarfed yours, and that was something you tried to push out of your mind. You looked over the suit, trailing your fingers over the soft fabric, “I made some adjustments to it. I think you’ll find it easier to access web fluid and its got better repair tech. Something new Parker was working on.”
You let out a small breath of amazement; this was an incredibly kind gesture from anyone, spider-people did happen to be generous for the most part, but this was next level. You re-familiarized yourself with the pink, blue, and purple fabric. A smile crossed your features as you turned your head to look at him. You found him watching you intently, “thank you, Miguel. This is…amazing.”
“You’re welcome,” his voice was near your ear, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin, “maybe it’ll help you to listen next time, hmm?”
“Miguel,” you turned in your seat and found yourself face to face with him, noses almost brushing. Whatever you were about to say quickly left your mind as you looked into his pretty brown eyes. A sharp inhale escaped your lips and you noticed the smile on his face grow larger, “I, ugh…I…”
“Hmm?’ it was a small sound of the back of his throat as he regarded you. He reached up and touched your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “what’s up?”
“I umm,” you stammered nervously, trying to ignore the feeling of his skin on yours, “I gotta go. I-I think Peter needed me for something.”
“He’s out on assignment right now.”
“Mayday then,” you volunteered slinking out from under his arm and grabbing the new suit, You felt your entire face warmed up as he started to chuckle, “Mayday needs me-”
“She’s a baby!”
“And I love her,” you squeaked, “so I gotta help her!”
You took off before he could say anything else or fluster you even more. Something had gotten into Miguel O’Hara and you weren’t sure you could handle it. You weren’t sure you’d survive the man you’d longed after for so long returning those very same feelings. 
Well. This was going to get interesting.
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You came to the decision, made after much contemplation and tossing and turning at night, that you were going to ignore Miguel. Not ignore completely but ignore his advances. If he did happen to flirt with you again, you weren't going to say or do anything. Not that you expected them…but, you know, just in case it happened.
When you got to the headquarters the next day, you kept to yourself, taking your coffee and making your way to your little assigned corner and refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Maybe if no one saw you, you could get away with being practically invisible. 
But the universe wouldn't have it, of course it wouldn't.
"Hello there," his voice was sticky sweet like toffee and that didn't land well with you. Rather it did land well in the sense that it shouldn't have made you feel the rush you were currently experiencing, "you look pretty today."
"I, ugh," you looked down at your outfit and shrugged helplessly. You were dressed simply in a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and sandals; nothing that you would consider exceptional, "umm…thanks?"
"What's wrong?" He knew exactly what was wrong, the bastard. He could probably hear the erratic and wild beating of your heart, "you seem…nervous."
"N-no," you shook your eyes but your wide eyes and pretty pout were anything but convincing, "just…tired?"
 "Are you sure about that?"
"No," you answered. You could have beaten around the bush all you wanted, but you knew that he wasn't going to give up. That wasn't Miguel at all. The best option - the only really - was to just come out and tell him the truth. Once it was all out, the chips would fall where they may, "why are you suddenly flirting with me? W-wait, are you flirting with me?”
“I am,” he admitted this so easily that it caught you off guard. You knew he wasn’t one to lie per se, but you didn’t expect him to just outright admit it. Confusion colored your features as you tried to get your mind to function again, “I am…flirting with you.”
“Oh,” you nodded and turned back to your computer screen before it all set in, “oh?”
“Oh,” he teased, reaching forward to brush some of your rogue locks of hair behind your ear.
“Why?” you reached up and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, gently pulling his hand away, “is it because I’ve been flirting with you?”
“It’s one of the reasons…among others,” alright. Now you were curious, even more than before, as to where this was going, “is that a problem for you?”
Nope. No. Nah. Not. At. All.
“Ummm…” you felt ditzy and dazy as you looked over at the handsome man. He really had you thrown for a loop, “I just…if I made you feel uncomfortable with it, I’m sorry. I never meant it to be mean or anything. I just…meant it.”
“Meant it?” he parroted as you swallowed thickly, “you meant it all those times you were flirting with me?”
“Y-yes,” your confession was soft and gentle as Miguel practically preened under your words. He wasn’t sure what answer he had been expecting, but somehow it wasn’t this one. He hadn’t flattered him with the idea that you would seriously like him, “I did - I do, Miguel.”
“Hmm,” he mused softly as you blinked at him with wide eyes, “do you want to know something?”
“Y-yes? Yes,” you nodded, tummy fluttering with butterflies and heart pitter-patter rapidly.
“When I’ve been flirting with you,” he leaned down so he was almost face level with you, “I’ve meant it too, princess.”
“No way,” disbelief flooded your veins as the first conclusion you came to was that he was lying. Perhaps this was all to get back for going against his direct orders during your last mission. That must have been the reason, right? You leaned away from him and almost slid off your chair as you rolled back to create a bit of distance between your bodies, “y-you’re lying. You have to be…”
“I’m not lying to you,” this time he was in disbelief. He’d never once lied to you��why would he start now?
“You have to be,” you sounded so pathetic as you grabbed your stuff and almost ran away, “you can’t like me like that!”
“Why not?!”
“I dunno, you just can’t!” you almost ran into Peter as you tried to get away, “sorry!”
Peter was dumbfounded as he looked between your quickly disappearing figure and Miguel, “what happened now?”
“I wish I knew,” Miguel exhaled heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose, “fuck.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You kept your distance from HQ for a couple of days after your embarrassing outburst. You had replayed that very moment over and over in your head, trying to see it from all different angles.
The only conclusion you kept coming to was that he was telling the truth. And that reality was hard to come to terms with at first…but then it was blissfully exciting. Miguel liked you! But then it was more like Miguel liked you…holy shit. 
But then you decided that more than anything, you needed to know the truth. 
You practically ran over to his office, causing the curious glances of other spider-people to follow you. You could hear their hushed murmurs, but didn’t stop to address them. News traveled fast around this place and you had no doubt that as soon as whatever happened between the two of you, the news would spread like wildfire. 
“Miguel!” you didn’t even bother to knock and announce your presence, bursting into his office without ceremony. He turned around to face you, a few different expressions crossing his features before settling on surprise, “I…”
“Yes?” suddenly every single coherent thought escaped your mind as you stared at him. He cocked his head to the side and looked at you expectantly.
“Did you mean it?” you whispered, taking a step closer to him, “the other day when you said you flirted with me because you meant it. Did you mean it?”
“Yes,” he promised, closing the gap even more, “of course I did. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“Me neither,” you insisted, catching yourself, “lie to you, I mean. So…”
“So we’re on the same page now?”
“I think so,” you smiled hesitantly at him, and the two of you locked eyes for a few moments. 
Before you could stop yourself, you closed the little bit of distance remaining between your bodies before practically jumping into his arms. Almost as if he had known what you were thinking, he effortlessly caught you, wrapping his strong arms around you. You beamed at him, melting as you watched him practically glow at you. 
“I want to kiss you,” you touched his face, and he practically leaned into your touch, “may I?”
“You may-” you prevented him from saying anything else as you crashed your lips onto his, kissing him with a fierce determination and eagerness. 
Neither of you dared to pull back until you were both breathless, looking at each other through hazy eyes and soft smiles. He gently set you back on the ground and you stared up at him. 
“Do you want some more honesty?” he asked gently, stealing a few more kisses, which you eagerly gave him.
“Of course.”
“I plan on doing that a lot more,” and yeah…that made you practically jump his bones then and there, “if you’re down for it.”
“Yes,” that came without hesitation, “I definitely am.”
“Better close the door then,” you did as you asked, looking at him with round, eager eyes, “you know how nosey they can be.”
“The nosiest…”
“Now, c’mere,” he held his hand out to you, “and let me prove I wasn’t lying to you.”
“Yes, please.”
1K notes · View notes
morallyinept · 6 months
Text
Trick Or Treat? - A Dark!Frankie Morales x Dark!Joel Miller x Dark!Dave York Halloween One Shot 🎃
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Summary: It's Halloween and you're settling in for a creepy night alone with a scary movie, when three masked intruders break in. And they have more tricks than treats in mind for you. 🎃
Pairing: Dark!Frankie Morales x Dark!Joel Miller x Dark!Dave York x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It's you, bub.)
Word Count: 10.5k ish - 'Issa long one. Better grab some spooky snacks. 👻
Scoville Smut Rating: 🌶🌶🌶 "You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here
Explicit: DARK/DDDNE/implied noncon/implied dubcon/CNC/free use/anything goes/implied forced/established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/squirting/anal play/restraint/dirty talk/derogatory/some mild degradation/some mild assault in the form of slaps, scratching, biting/jump scares/mentions of clowns & a clown mask image below the cut - eh, some people hate 'em. Dave York comes with his own warning. 🥴
NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don't come at me; you've been plenty warned.
Author's Note: Happy Halloween!! 🎃 I'm fully aware that this might not be for everyone, and that's totally fine. You can just move on quietly if it's not for you. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.
Couldn't think of any better trio of Pedro Boys to mess with you on Halloween, other than Frankie, Joel & Dave.
Enjoy! 🖤🎃
MASTERLIST
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The lounge is dimly lit. 
Shadows curated from the trenches of nightmares claw across the walls as you perch on the edge of your worn-out couch, crowded with the mass invasion of mis-matched cushions. 
The eerie glow from the flat screen casts an otherworldly pallor upon your face, accentuating the nervous flicker around your eyeballs that are wide with bulging scleras; watery white orbs in the dark.
The room is drenched in an unsettling silence, broken only by the haunting soundtrack of the horror movie slashing its way across your screen, from which you can’t tear away your fixed gaze. 
Every creak of the house, every groan in the walls, sends fleeting shivers down your spine as you clutch one of the cushions tightly, pulled further into the chilling world of the movie. 
It's Halloween night and the bowl, brimming full of sugared candy treats for the Witching Hour to begin, is resting languidly on the coffee table ready for the barrage of trick-or-treaters bound to harangue you all night long. Until you stop answering the door and devour them all for yourself. It always happens. 
But, as you watch the movie, engrossed in the suspenseful carnage that is about to erupt, slowly bringing mouthfuls of warm, buttery homemade popcorn up to your mouth, you start to regret it.
You always do this to yourself; cue the manic paranoia afterwards, lying in bed and getting freaked out by strange noises rattling around in the house. Turning the light off and running up the stairs really, really fast so a crazed, masked killer - that is purely a figment of your over active imagination, whose just endured copious hours of jump scares - doesn't get you.
As the movie’s tension mounts, so too does your own. Your heart races in sync with the frantic, heavy beats of the ominous bass that vibrates in through your toes. Fear creeps up your spine with icy tendrils, constricting your chest with each suspenseful twist. 
A young Jamie Lee Curtis is running for her life across the screen; a giant man in a boiler suit and waxy mask wielding a kitchen knife is chasing her, and you're yelling at her to run.
Run bitch!
You're invested wholly in the terror of the movie. Your fingernails leave crescent imprints on the fabric of the cushion you clutch, as if they could anchor you to reality amidst the growing dread that consumes you. 
The room’s shadows deepen, feel heavier somehow in the darkest corners and seem to slink and shift in the periphery of your vision. Your mind plays tricks on you, conjuring grotesque shapes from the inky void to float towards you, but any sense of your own mild panic is marred by the screaming on the screen that pulls your attention away. 
The rest of the house is unusually quiet around you, its existence ebbing away. Oblivious to the malevolent, unseen eyes that seem to pierce through the darkness, you continue to fill your mouth with the salty, puffed kernels.
"Run, why are you standing there, just fucking run!" You crunch to Jamie Lee; your eyes wide and the music hammering around you loudly as the killer is in the house with her, and she hasn't realised it yet.
Oh, the irony.
A figure continues to emerge from the swirly shadows, edging towards you in the dark where the light of the TV hasn't reached. It moves with a haunting grace as if it's part of the very darkness it inhabits. You feel hairs prickle up on the back of your neck as you watch the tension on the screen play out. 
You know how this shit goes down; you've seen this movie millions of times, but it still gets you. Still makes you jump out of your skin at the right parts and-
"BOO!" 
A maniacal laugh pierces your eardrum from behind and you screech in absolute terror.
The bowl of popcorn ends up all over the floor as you launch yourself up from the couch like you’ve been tasered, turning and screaming as you hear that sinister laugh morph into one you begin to recognise.
Big, splayed hands reach for you from within the dark and you squeal louder, backing up as the sinister marauder advances on you.
"Hey it's me, muñeca. It's me!" But he's still laughing and it's not fucking funny.
Your heart is trying to make a dash out of your throat and you swear to God some pee might’ve trickled down your leg.
"What the Hell are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?!"
You slap his hands away angrily as he reaches for your shaky ones, and the light from the TV assures you it's Frankie, still chuckling to himself from behind a cheap, neon-coloured clown mask.
"Jesus Christ," you sigh, catching your breath. 
You're still trying to choke your thrashing heart back down into your chest. It's not going down without a rowdy fight apparently as you cough and splutter. "Why would you scare me like that?! What are you wearing?" You query with a shudder as he pulls off the grotesque mask. 
It's a sinister, somewhat ugly clown, complete with rainbow coiffed curls, white cracked rubber for a face and peeling red nose. All your explicit, childish nightmares come true to form and are made graphically real - too real. You shiver again as you see it, now crumpled up in his hand.
"You should've seen your face!" He's laughing again and it's hard not to punch him right now. Or drop kick him in the balls.
"I fucking hate clowns." You growl, shoving him in the broad shoulder, as he tries to pull you towards him, but you resist in protest.
"Hey, it's just me." Frankie reassures, pulling you into the stack of his chest and trying to kiss your cheek in attempted fuzzy apologies, but you still repel him. 
"I know," you say, rubbing your arm uneasily and pouting at him. “It’s not funny.”
"Aww, hermosa. Come here, I'm sorry. Voy a parar, lo siento. Lo siento." He pulls you closer into his strong arms wrapping you up tight for a moment, and closing your eyes you're immediately in your safe place; safe in Frankie’s arms where nothing horrific can get you.
You feel your heartbeat regain its usual steady tempo and your body melts into a heated pool of slush as he soothes you, rubbing his large hands up and down your back.
It's hard to stay mad at him when he holds you like this. 
"Aren't you going to be late?" You murmur a few enraptured seconds later into his warm neck skin; your nose nuzzling into the soft, sparse scruff that roots there. You taste it as the oaky scents of his heady cologne makes your mouth water. 
He groans deliciously, stirring a flurry again in your rib cage, as you run your tongue up towards his ear and suck gently on the lobe.
"Mmm," he smiles blissfully, crushing your bones into his. You feel his hands now sliding down further, past the small of your back, and pawing at the pliable meat of your ass. 
You tug hard on his ear with your teeth and he hisses as you clamp down.
"Ow!" He whines. You snicker up at him. 
"Revenge." You titter. 
“Eso duele,” he gripes, pouting. 
"Look at this mess." Your bare feet are crunching into the popcorn that’s all over the floor as if an Arctic blast has just hit. 
"I'll help you clean up." Frankie offers, tossing the clown mask onto the couch. You make a mental note to throw the ghastly thing in the trash once he’s gone. 
"No, you go. The guys are waiting for you." 
"You sure?"
"Yeah." You nod with a soft smile, and watch as Frankie retrieves his favourite blue cap from his back pocket, unfolds and fixes it back into its rightful place on his tufty curls.
"I'll just be a few hours. Beers and some cards..." He smiles with cocoa eyes.
"Take as long as you want. I'll probably be asleep when you get back anyway." You say grimacing down at the mess.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Just gonna finish up the movie then climb into bed early." 
"Hardcore." He teases, pulling you towards him again. 
You kiss him on the lips gently. He wraps his hands around the small of your back and you can feel him. Feel that mounting swell of him against your belly as he stiffens in his stonewash Levi’s. 
The kiss between you intensifies, his tongue slipping slowly into the hungry void of your mouth. A polluting convergence of wanton desire and longing as he murmurs into your wet gums. It sizzles in your bloodstream, warming you from the inside out. 
"Might have to wake you up…" Frankie purrs as you pull away, breathless; your heart thudding, as well as your clit that feels like it’s growing in size and weighing you down.
You grin, clenching internally at the thought of how Frankie specialises in waking you up.
You pull on the lapels of his jacket, twisting the artichoke corduroy, working through the mental images of tossing him on the couch, straddling his face and sending him to the guys with your slick drying in his facial scruff. 
"Go on, get going, you jackass." You warn, bending down to pick up the popcorn bowl. You feel a gentle swat on your butt. 
"Enjoy the movie, baby." He says.
You smile standing upright. "Say hi to Joel and Dave for me." 
Frankie turns back to you, his eyes appearing like black shiny marbles in the dark shadows, and smiles sinisterly at you. 
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An hour or so later - the clown mask successfully dumped in the trash ceasing to haunt you - and you’ve already given up answering the door to demanding, greedy little witches, hobgoblins and mummies wrapped up in cheap ply toilet paper. 
The bowl of candy is now nestled snugly in your lap; the floor clear of the discarded popcorn. Your eyes are glued back to the flat screen as you finish the remainder of the movie, sinking down further into the couch so that you’re almost horizontal, as you chew and suck the candy corn clacking around your teeth.
A knock on the door a little while later makes you jump, but you ignore it, deciding the kids in your neighbourhood have had their fill. You reach for your phone - the light illuminating your face in the dark with Frankie’s beaming grin whilst he noogies you set as your wallpaper - to see it’s a little past nine PM. 
You toss it on the couch beside you, absorbing in the movie, reaching into the candy bowl for more as Michael Myers terrorises Jamie Lee to no end.
The door knocks again, this time a thudding hammering.
What the hell?
You pause the movie and get up with the candy bowl, padding over to the hall and towards the front door. The knocks grow louder, more insistent, making you flinch.
“Alright, Jesus!” You call out as you open the door, expecting to see a cluster of snarky little demons holding out their treat bags gluttonously.
But as you wrench the door open, you’re met with only the stark emptiness of the dense night. Frowning, you poke your head out further and see there's only vacant spaces hidden in the shadows of the porch. 
You shut the door, convincing yourself it’s a harmless prank from bored teenagers that you’ve become a victim to.
You run your hand around a niggling crick in your neck from slumping on the couch for so long and head back towards the lounge. 
Before you reach the end of the hall, another barrage of hammering rattles through your body. Turning, you march towards the front door and pull it open again.
“This isn’t funny, you little dipshits!” You holler out determined to catch them in the act. 
Again, there’s nobody there; the street is empty, devoid of any life or wily children making the rounds for poison candied apples. You hesitate, torn between curiosity and a faint bleed of fear haemorrhaging somewhere within your muscles. 
“The fuck…?” You query as a cold breeze nips at the tops of your shoulders as you step out onto the porch.
“Hello?” You call out, nerves already frayed as they're going to get this evening; your patience is running thin.
The eerie silence of the night that greets you back seems deafening as it plugs up all your senses. The breeze restlessly pulls the goose bumps out of your pores and you instantly feel foolish, if but a little rattled. 
Sighing, you retreat back inside. You wait for a few moments, listening, waiting again for the sound of the phantom knocker. You shake your head listlessly and with a stupefied mirth to yourself, even though the lingering sense of unease remains, trying to claw at your ankles.
You bolt the chain across the door before you finally walk away, convincing yourself that it’s nothing more than your paranoid mind left to its jangled devices. 
Of all the nights to play fucking pranks. 
Once the movie is over, you climb the stairs up to bed; washing up in the bathroom, now dressed in your matching shorts and shirt pyjama set, and brushing out the candy now cemented in your molars. 
Once you're sunk into the softness of your mattress, you roll over onto Frankie’s side, missing his shape wrapped around your body and the feel of his breath warming the back of your neck as he snores lightly.
The musky scents of him linger in the sheets and you inhale deeply, reminding yourself that you live in reality and not some torrid nightmare with crazed, masked killers. 
As you drift off, you smile at the thought of him losing at poker to Joel and Dave, and how much shit you’ll know they’ll both give him for it too. 
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It wakes you, bleeding into your chromatic unconsciousness and interrupting your stunted, dreamless sleep. 
A sense of unease washes over you, amplified by the eerie stillness that still hangs in the air as you glance the time on the alarm clock. It sears its menacing red vitriol into your sleepy retinas brightly. 
It's just past midnight and Frankie’s side of the bed is still empty. 
You lay still and clammy in the sheets, straining your ears to hear what had interrupted your sleep, trying to discern whether it’s real or if your mind had yelled at you from somewhere in the void, pulling you out with a jolt instead. 
You close your eyes and roll over again, your arm tingling numb from sleeping on it, when you hear it again. 
At first you dismiss it as a product of your overactive imagination, still haunted by the spooky shenanigans of the night, or the creaks in the house coming out to taunt you further for shits and giggles. But it’s there, unmistakably. A faint sound ruminating from downstairs. 
“Frankie? That you?” You call softly, sitting up. 
You listen out, the waves of your heartbeat rolling and crashing into the tide of your eardrums, disturbed only by a siren passing in the night.
You slip out of the sheets and pad over to the bedroom door that’s ajar. You're certain you'd shut it when you came up. 
“Frankie?” You call over the landing and wait. 
There’s a loud clanging noise that startles you and you step backwards. 
Nope!
Dashing into the bedroom, you reach into the closet for Frankie’s old college baseball bat that’s beaten up and splintered to hell, but it’ll serve as some protection.
You grab your phone with the intent to call Frankie to come and kick some ass. You swipe across the screen and dial Frankie’s number. It rings off as your battery dies.
“What?” You murmur as you fiddle around with the wire, certain you had plugged it in to charge, trailing it down to the socket and find it’s unplugged and left loose on the floor. Shit!
The noise from downstairs stirs your attention, making you jump, and you’re more than convinced there is someone in the house. 
“Frankie, if you’re fucking with me again, I swear to God, I’m gonna kill you!” You mumble to yourself, standing up and tiptoeing towards the door. 
It falls quiet and you step closer to the top of the stairs. 
“Frankie!” You hiss out, assuming he’s probably drunk and rattling around down in the kitchen and making a mess, but you also don’t want to take the chance in case it’s not.
You descend down the stairs slowly, quietly as you can muster; the bat firmly in your hand and poised ready to swing. You convince yourself that you’ll be able to take them. Frankie’s shown you a thing or two about how to carry yourself.
Yeah. Come on, you fucker.  
With your pulse rising in your ears, you step into the hall, glancing at the front door. It's still chained up and the dread fully overtakes you.
You raise the bat and round the corner into the lounge. You reach for the light switch and flick it up, but the lights don’t come on at all. You flick it up and down a few times, but you remain in the swamping dark.
Fuck! 
You hear the sound again, and it’s indeed coming from the kitchen. Loud and rustling. 
“Frankie?” You call out gently. The sound stops and you’re certain you hear footsteps. Perhaps, realising that you'd locked him out, he's come home through the back door.
"Frankie, answer me."
You head towards the kitchen, the orange light pooling in from the lamp post outside illuminates the trash can that's now overturned on the floor. You look down and kick it warily with your foot. You think you can see a shadow moving to your left.
The air shifts heavily against the back of your neck, and you yelp, swinging the bat with conviction. 
“Uh-ho, we gotta live one!” A thick voice booms as a giant hand catches the bat mid swing.
The voice comes from underneath a creepy vampire mask, complete with fangs and a bloodstained cleft. He wrenches the bat from you, in easily the biggest hands you’ve ever seen, and you hear it clatter away across the tiled floor. 
You scramble backwards. A leather gloved hand clamps over your mouth, as your arms are crushed behind your back, muffling out your panicked screams. 
You struggle and recoil against the body that holds you in a vice-like grip, despite your legs thrashing like you’re fighting against the tide. 
You glance up behind you and see another mask, this time a ghoul with pieces of skin missing, greets you. It's too dark to see the eyes through the slits. But you can hear his laugh; a cold mist of breathy chuckles as you struggle and fight against him.
His gloved hand presses harder over your mouth drowning out your squeaks into frantic inhalations as you struggle to breathe around it. All you can think of is Frankie. Doing some desperate Jedi Mind Trick shit to conjure him here to beat the crap out of these intruding assholes. 
The Vampire steps towards you, cocking his head and his hulking frame immediately intimidates you, terrifies you even. 
But a flood of adrenaline makes you kick out and your foot collides with his kneecap. 
He growls as he jolts. “Hey now! There’ll be none of that, darlin’,” he warns sinisterly. 
In a nanosecond, that voice registers somewhere familiar in the back of your skull, but before you have time to churn and process it into coherent thought, your arm is twisted further up your spine making you cry out around the gloved hand pressing against your teeth; the pressure making them ache. 
“Grab her legs.” The Ghoul instructs as The Vampire reaches for them and clamps tightly around your ankles as you try to repl against him. 
They manoeuvre you into the lounge where another figure emerges from the shadows, now illuminated by a couple of gloaming candles flickering on the coffee table. 
Your eyes widen as you recognise the gnarly clown mask from the trash, shaking the lit match in his fingers until it's extinguished.
You’re tossed face down into the couch and you scramble, gasping and yelling out as they pin you quickly. 
"Get off of meeee!" 
The Ghoul on your right, The Vampire on your left. Their auspicious, maniacal laughter ringing in your ears; their tight grip cementing you in place, pinching painfully against your skin.
The Clown steps closer peering down at you through the mask; his chest rising and falling, steadily puffed out in his menacing stance.
Your eyes widen as he advances closer, his hands moving towards his belt; thick, long fingers slowly unbuckling it.
You yell out, struggling, but it’s futile. “No, NO!” You kick and scream, the dread poisoning your bloodstream, and they all laugh. 
"Help! Hel-pffh!"
The gloved hand of The Ghoul wraps around your throat murdering your yells into dying croaks that choke out of you like sloppy hiccups. 
"Ain't no-one gonna hear ya, darlin'." The Vampire mocks. "S'just you n’ us, pretty girl. All night." 
The Clown kicks at your ankles separating them as The Vampire yanks your left leg towards him. The Ghoul follows with your right leg and it feels like he pulls it out of the joint.
You're completely opened up, your shorts riding tight up against your centre, and locked into place unable to move. You focus on The Clown and the sinister way in which he moves, head slightly cocked and revelling in your plight; a sadistic voyeur in this cruel fate.
Your breathing is frantic, sucking in too much oxygen making you a little light headed. 
The Clown edges closer, his horrifically masked face craning closer towards yours and you can see those dark eyes staring back at you, unblinking and unflinching.
“Trick or treat?” He simply taunts. 
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You’re frozen, paralysed. 
The fear has gripped you tight in a vice so binding that you’re unable to process basic motor functions. Both your fight or flight senses have left you, fled screaming into the night.
You can hear them. All around you. Their rabid voices hitching through the masks; verbal plotting laced with undulating horrors of menace. All the ways they want to feast on you rattles tinny in between your ears. 
Their hands paw at you, tear at your supple flesh like a pack of ravenous wolves; groping, scratching, pinching. Tugging lewdly at the light cotton of your pyjama shorts and shirt. 
The monsters harangue your every sense, flood your synapses with their ill intent. Their white noise deafens you. 
Then, like you've been dunked head first under ice cold water, the sudden awareness of your predicament shakes you with alarm. It's enough to pump fast adrenaline through you like Popeye's spinach as you twist, screech and fight back with all you’ve got.
You’re not sure how you manage it - it's one for your brain to calculate the physics later - but you’re up on your feet, shoving The Clown backwards as he unzips his flies, leaving The Vampire growling.
But The Ghoul is up just as fast and chasing you down as you make a daring dash towards the front door. 
Your fingers rattle clumsily around the chain, cursing yourself that you attached it earlier, unable to get a steady grip on it, when you feel The Ghoul slam into you from behind. 
Your face is crushed hard into the wood as he pestles against you, stars flooding your eyes. You hear him snarling fistules of lava in your ear. He grabs your arms and drags you back. “No you don’t, bitch!” He seethes. 
Now begins the physical struggle that you’re bound to lose. You might have torn at him with your nails, but it barely marks him. Your desperate imploring of him to stop, that he's hurting you, has no effect either. His need is too desperate now for him to even hear you.
You feel his urgency, and realising there’s nothing further you can do or say, your body submits to him as he drags you along with ease - he’s simply too strong for you to fight off - they all are. 
He slams you down, bent forward, over the dining table; your temple and cheek slapping against it, dazing you for a second. 
You feel hands on your body, one hand slipping easily around your throat, the other slipping around the front of your belly pulling you back tight against him.
You feel him, feel the excitement of your helplessness goading him on. Feel that hardness of his twisted desire. Your wrists are restrained at your back, held in place as he easily and quickly manoeuvres them despite your struggles. 
“Please!” You cry out louder.
His voice is rough sounding in your ear. "Don't you dare scream, or I'll snap your pretty little neck!" Foul menace is hissed into you insidiously from The Ghoul. And you know he's not messing around. 
Through the commotion, you hear a chair being pulled out, creaky scrapes, and The Clown takes a seat at the opposite end of the table. He tosses a couple of black cable ties across the polished wood to The Ghoul.
The Ghoul secures your wrists together, sharp and snapping, and you whine with tears pooling in your eyes for them to let you go. To not do this. To please just stop.
The Clown, drawing one denim clad knee up, sitting back in the chair, watches darkly. 
You jut your leg out backwards in a last ditch attempt to not go down without a fight, clocking it into The Ghoul’s thigh and he growls and slams his fist on the table mere inches from your face.
He’s had enough now. 
He tears off his mask and presses his body over yours, suffocating you with his crushing strength. He grips round your chin and turns your head. The face that is presented back to you, smirking with dark brown eyes burning into you like hot embers, renders you useless as he twists your face to meet yours. You can hear your neck crack. 
Oh fuck.
“D-Dave?” You query confused. He grits his teeth, mouth pursed out as he stares you into a weak submission. He's pissed, livid.
You see movement over his shoulder as The Vampire emerges. 
“Cat’s outta the bag, hmm?” The Vampire says to Dave, a hefty hand resting on his shoulder. 
You watch in shock, and with something else starting to flare over your body, as The Vampire removes his own mask, crushing it in his large palm to reveal soft, greying curls slick with sweat in the chocolaty roots. 
“Joel?" You gasp. 
“In the flesh, darlin’.” He sneers through a smile that’s more unnerving than Dave’s fury somehow, completing this picture of terrifying machismo. 
“What is this, w-what’s going on?" You pant, your wrists burning as they struggle around the plastic snare keeping them together and tingling your fingers with numbness. 
Dave’s gloved hand squeezes around your jaw popping your lips open.
“Ssshh.” His leathered index finger pushes tightly to your mouth. Black butterflies dance over Dave’s features. You're tempted to bite down, but sensing this, he pushes another finger in and you heave as it tickles the back of your throat. 
Joel chuckles softly at your plight as he watches you choke around Dave's invading leather digits.  
"So this is what you look like sucking on Frankie's cock, hmm?" Dave taunts.
"Real fuckin' nice." Joel agrees, licking his lips. You catch him palming himself over his jeans and you feel a heavy flutter start to rustle from the grave in your core. 
You try to swallow but your mouth is stuffed so full of the padded leather that your saliva pools out the corner of your mouth and runs down your chin. 
Dave grips the side of your face with his other hand, his hips pushing you against the table. Joel lurches behind him like a stacked shadow, sealing off any gap for a potential escape. 
You want to be furious, you want to push him off you as he pushes his fingers into the furthest reaches of your throat and becomes mesmerised by it as you gag and retch. 
Instead, and in some fucked up depravity stirring from the pits, you melt under his force; enjoying the feel of it and nuzzling into his hand with your eyes closed, until he yanks your hair backwards and holds you still and taut.
You gasp out as he sniffs all over your neck and face like a dog. "Oh, you want this don't you, slut?"
Dave's sudden change in demeanour again does something to you; something wonderfully perverted and untamed. Something unexpected and he picks up on it immediately like a Bloodhound.
He pulls his hand out of the glove, but leaves it in your mouth, pressing it in further until you gag more and your cheeks fill with it.
"I can smell your cunt," Dave says in a voice you don't recognise. It's sinister and deep, yet with a jaunty bounce of a little chuckle on the end of it.
His macabre smile does nothing to appease the angst simmering away inside your stomach. Instead, it seems to intensify it to boiling point and it begins to ache in your gut like a heavy pull.
But then, a surge of devious pleasure swills in your bloodstream, seemingly from out of nowhere; you're aroused by becoming aroused at such a thing. A blooming in between your legs, the slickness of your pussy waking up to join this fucked up tea party. And the feel of your body becoming heated for him makes you sweat.
“Ain’t she pretty, hmm?” Joel taunts. 
Dave runs his mouth over your cheeks; he becomes possessed, animalistic almost as he glides it back and forth, back and forth. You feel his lips drag against yours but he doesn't kiss you, even though you're suddenly desperate to latch onto his lips - to feast on them like you're starved, despite the glove stuffed so unceremoniously into your mouth.
It sends shivers down your body and tingles inside your hair follicles that he’s pulling on tightly. The smoothness of his marble-like jaw, the plumpness of his bottom lip; a kaleidoscopic wonder of him that you've never really paid attention to before.
Somewhere, deep inside of you, you realise you’d always thought Dave was attractive, handsome. And now whilst he’s terrifying and rough, that attraction rears its ugly head and dives haphazardly into wanton lust.
The electric sparks zap down your spine and surges through your nipples that are tightening inside your pyjama shirt. You’re unconsciously squeezing your thighs together as your clit throbs. 
He's right. You do want this. 
"You know, I've always wanted to fuck you." Dave's hand reaches for his belt. 
You see Joel kneel down to your level as your eyes widen. You feel Dave yank down your pyjama shorts as he practically tears them from your legs. 
You sound your resistance out around the glove, but all that comes out is incomprehensible moans.
He swipes between your legs, and his fingers slip over your puffy cunt lips, and it's a dead giveaway at how drenched you are.
You feel Joel pat your shoulder. “S’okay, darlin’,” he soothes with maddening eyes. “We’re gonna take real care of ya.”
"Yeah. Feel that tight cunt that Frankie says you've got squeeze round me." Dave snorts. "Fuck, you're so wet…"
You hear yourself audibly whimper as his fingers find you soaking and wanting. He runs them up and down your fleshy seam and pushes two of them into your folds with a loud, undignified squelch.
He slides further up and knocks against your clit that aches and your thighs judder uncontrollably as he circles it. 
Joel reaches between your legs and takes a swipe for himself. You watch as he sucks your slick from his fingers and smirks. 
“Someone’s ready to be fucked, aren’t ya, darlin’?” Joel says to you. 
You shake your head and it clatters against the tabletop.
Dave moans into your ear, "what a little slut. Wet for me already. What would your boyfriend think?"
You whine as he increases the pressure on your clit, your legs already buckling underneath you. 
"Why don't we ask him, hmm? Hey Frank. What do you think about that?"
Your eyes dart to The Clown, watching you silently with tented fingers. 
"Frank!" Dave grunts again through gritted teeth. "Take that thing off and watch me fuck your girl.” 
A hand goes to The Clown's face and you recognise Frankie's features as they're revealed to you from under it. Your heart surges, feeling heavier in your chest. But Frankie doesn't look how you expect him to.
He doesn't look aghast or in disgust, or furious with Dave and Joel. No. He looks positively delighted and smirks darkly at you as Dave lines himself up against your oozing slit.
Frankie tosses the mask across the table. "Fuck her until she screams, Dave." He says casually cold. 
You watch helplessly as Frankie's lips twist up into a chilling smirk that ices right through your blood. 
You whimper helplessly. Your body is shattered with an agonising realisation as Frankie teases and encourages your plight rather than halting it.
You can feel your heartbeat hammering wildly in your chest cavity - pumping courage into your veins, preparing you for what is about to happen. 
He’s not helping you, he’s not stopping this. You realise that he’s heinously a part of it. Tears well in your eyes, threatening to blind you and it feels like every bone in your body has snapped.
Dave shunts his cock into you so hard, that the table screeches and jostles forward against the floor. Frankie slaps his palms down so that he isn't crushed in the gut by it. 
"Shit! Never knew ya had it in ya, Yorkie-boy." Joel remarks with an impressed grin. 
"Fuck you, Joel." Dave pants from behind you. 
He’s not gentle as he drills in, pushing himself into the deepest parts of you he can reach as he fucks you. Your pussy welcomes him in, sucking around him, despite your body clenching initially.
Slowly, you’re unfurling, you’re taking it, taking him, whether you want to or not. Your mind is still trying to figure that part out.
He’s packing you out and filling you to the brim as he surges into a vile, hypnotic rhythm. You’re gasping around the glove; groaning and moaning as your body performs the ultimate betrayal against you, and starts to unwillingly peak. 
“Mmph, nufffph…” You lament helplessly around the suffocating glove. 
"Look at this slut, coming already. Barely fucked you, sweetheart and you're coming all over me!" Dave cajoles as though he's unimpressed. 
"His cock feel too good in ya, honey?" Joel asks, stroking at your sweat laden face.
You whine, unable to speak with the glove still stuffed in your orifice.
"Oh, I know, darlin'. Let's get that out, shall we?" Joel reaches for the leather and slowly pulls it out of your stretched, dry mouth. "That better?"
You nod, licking around your taut gums. "Uh-huuuah…" You groan as your back tenses and your body arches.
Dave pistons in deep, grabbing a hold of the meat of your hips with sharp, tight fingers. You can already feel the bruises forming as he squeezes around your malleable flesh. 
Joel smiles, grabbing at your jaw, squeezing it tightly in a binding crush of his fingers and stubby thumb. "Tell me how good it feels with Dave’s cock in ya cunt." 
"G-goo-ood." You whimper, snottily. You say it to appease him; it’s what he wants to hear, but Dave’s hitting those spots inside you that creep up your shoulders and whisper in your ear that it does, in fact, feel good.
Your muscles are tense all over your body making you feel like lead, but that building heat is melting it all away until you’re a boiling, metallic liquid running off the table to melt Joel’s boots. 
"Just good?” Joel frowns. “Ya can do better than that. He’s giving it to ya hard, honey n’ you’re telling me it’s just good?” He shakes his head disapprovingly. 
"S-so goo-ood…" you stutter, your words being forced out of your larynx with every brutal thrust Dave gives you as he riles and growls behind you.
"Tell him it's the best fucking cock ya've ever had." Joel prompts with a controlled voice. 
"It's t-the best cock… I've ever ha-haad." You hiccup through your wails.
Dave continues to pummell you. You can't take it anymore, it begins to hurt as he nudges against your cervix like a battering ram. It begins to charge and stew. It begins to turn you out, kicking and screaming by the ankles as your fingertips fizz and your eyes roll back into your skull as though possessed by the emergence of another haunting orgasm, only this time stronger than the last.
It's burning, licking all over your skin and melting you. He's taking from you, owning you. 
And it feels oh so fucking good.
"Oh God, oh fuck!" You cry. “Please! Fuck, yes!” You’re babbling; possessed by the inucubus-like demons that twist and trick and convince you that you want this as they lick at your ear. That somewhere, in the back of your mind, this has always been a dark fantasy that you’ve been reluctant to walk the path of.
You can feel the drool from your mouth pool on the table under you, sticking to your cheek like syrup. 
Joel slaps your face and it stings you back to reality for a second. "Louder darlin'!"
"It's the… aaah-ha! Oh God! The-best-fucking-cock-I've-ever-fucking-had! Aaahh! Fuuuuuck!" You wail as Dave snaps his hips into you and you fold completely in half. 
You're shaking and can't seem to stop, Dave's dastardly grunts filling your ears as you squeeze and flood him. "That's it baby, soak my cock. Just like that you little slut." 
"Ohh. Frankie. Man. That's gotta hurt." Joel snorts as he lets your face go and it falls back against the table with a heavy thunk. You've no energy to keep it up right now as you succumb to Dave’s cock tearing you open whilst your bones dissolve. 
Frankie purses his lips as Joel stands up with a smirk tossed at him. The two men watching you as Dave brutally gives you a pounding that feels like it’ll never let up.
And you kinda don’t want it to. 
“Enjoying the show, boys?” Dave pants around a wheezed laugh. 
He reaches forward and pulls at your hair again, snapping your neck up, your spine bending backwards on itself like a screwed up question mark, as he holds you there in a warped contortion and your body can only take it. 
It shouldn’t feel like this, it shouldn’t feel good and devouring. You should be repulsed, you should be frightened with how he's invaded you. You should be doing everything you can to fight him off. 
But you don’t want to.
You want him to snap your spine in half and eat your insides. You want Dave to annihilate you and pulverise your body into ashy dust. You want him to make you come again. 
“Watch me break your girl in half, Frank.” Dave croons evilly, as if able to read your thoughts. 
“Oh god... fuck... please!" Even your mouth betrays you now, begging him for more. "Dave! Pleasepleaseplease…"
But somehow your cries and begging him only make your orgasm that much more intense. And while he laughs, while they all laugh at you being railed on the dining table, deep derisive chuckles at your utter humiliation by Dave’s hands, you come again right on top of the other; your entire body shaking and trembling as you’re being exorcised of any reluctant demons left inside you.
You want this. You want them all to have their fill and to fill you up. You want to be tossed around and shared by them all. Left muddied and stained. 
"Daaaaaave!" You wail.
“That’s it, scream for me! I fucking love it when little sluts scream. Little sluts who scream like they don't want this cock buried in their cunt." Dave grunts into your scalp and he’s all teeth. 
You’re completely out of breath. Your body is caving into him as he ruts and fucks you harder, deeper and without any intention of stopping soon.
You’re starting to believe it when he said he’d always wanted to do this, always wanted to fuck you. And now that he his, it's more terrifying and wonderful than what you could have imagined. 
You can feel him speed up, really giving you his all, as his breathing starts to wane. His thighs are constant thuds against your ass cheeks, so much so that you imagine the skin between you is now one.
“Fuck!” He yells out. 
When Dave comes, it’s like he’s howling at the moon; turning himself around his bones and sinew as he pants and wheezes like an animal with bloodied carcass strings hanging around his teeth.
You feel him pump into you, his thighs buckling and his hands releasing your hair from around his grip; you feel like you’ve been scalped. 
He lets go of you completely, tossing your used body onto the tabletop like garbage, as his cock slips out and you can feel his come pooling at your entrance. You inadvertently squeeze to stop it sluicing down your thighs as your panting subsides.
You’re dizzy, you’re seeing spots in your vision as you try to remember how to breathe. 
You’re given no remission; Joel’s there immediately as Dave steps back, catching you before you slide off the table into a heap as your legs finally give way. 
“I got ya, darlin’.” He scoops you up into his strong arms with ease, and carries you through to the lounge. 
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Joel makes his way with you in his arms; his heavy boots crunching in some of the popcorn spilt on the floor in your earlier fright from Frankie that you'd missed clearing up.
He sits on the sofa, cradling you in his wide lap and stroking through your hair gently. Your arms are aching, feeling like they're on fire as your wrists are still lashed together tightly behind your back. 
You look up, in a heady stupor, to see Frankie still watching from the dining table with a blank, unreadable face and dark eyes, and Dave pouring a glass of water and gulping it back, clearing his throat, naked from the waist down and puffing out his cheeks that are pink with the exertion. His face shines with sweat. 
“Let’s get these off ya, darlin’,” Joel says. 
He pulls a switchblade from his back pocket and you flinch as the blade flicks open. He waves it under your eyelashes and you tense. 
“M’gonna cut ya free. Ya try anythin’ and I’ll slide this into your belly, y’hear me?” He pinches the fat of your stomach under the flaps of your pyjama shirt to emphasise the point. 
You nod frantically as he cuts the cable ties from your wrists. 
Tucking the knife away, he brings your hands around to your front and massages the feeling slowly back into them. They have purple rings around them that itch and weep from raw blisters. 
He brings your wrists to his lips and presses gentle kisses over the broken skin whilst holding eye contact with you.
An urge surges through your fingertips; you feel compelled to stroke through his curls, feel him nuzzle into you at his gentle nature. Run your nose over his facial scruff and see if it smells different from Frankie’s. 
But you don’t, he keeps your twitching hands firmly in his own as he kisses delicately, runs his soothing tongue around the welts. 
“Better?” Joel asks you after a few minutes. 
You nod as he pushes your knotted hair behind your ears.
“Alright, darlin’. Lay back. M’gonna fuck ya now.” 
"Please-" you start in a weak protest. Your body isn;t ready for another pounding yet.
"Shut up. Ya gonna take what I give ya like a good girl." He menaces in the same gentle tone, which is unnerving as it is heated. “In fact, let’s get you down here. Can splay ya out. S’better.”
Joel picks you up like you weigh nothing and lays you on the wooden floor, pushing the coffee table out of the way with his other hand effortlessly. It creaks across the wooden floor.
His foreboding, giant hands grip either side of your pyjama shirt lapels and wrenches it open with a quick yank; the buttons tearing and popping off, some never to be found again.
"Fuck," Joel groans as your breasts spill out at him. He leans forward over you, taking a nipple between his lips and sucking on it, pulling on it with his teeth and making you hiss. 
"Such a nice pair, darlin'. Jesus." He gruffs tonguing around your nipple as it hardens in his mouth. He runs his mouth across the valley and peaks of your breasts, his tongue lavishing attention around those stiff nipples that he teases.
You feel him bite down on the meat of the left one and you hiss as he sucks the skin in around his teeth ferociously. He rises up when he’s left a purple mark. “Something for ya to remember me by,” he says. 
Your eyes water, yet you groan in response to his biting, and shut them as he leaves another mark on your sternum. You feel a sharp sting across your cheeks; you open them again in shock.
"Eyes on me." Joel warns. "Want you to watch me turn ya out." 
“Please, Joel…” You whine, trying to resist him and the way he can simply knead and spread you about with ease like you’re a pliable plasticine doll. But your body is too strung out from Dave’s gruelling punishment. It has no fight left in it.
You try to close your legs, but Joel’s too strong. He wrenches them apart with a simple shove of his hands making your thigh bones crack: his stocky body filling the gap and stopping you from shutting them again as he slots in between like a giant cinder block.
"Don't act like ya don't want me inside ya. I know you've been thinkin' 'bout me doing this to ya. You're a fuckin' tease." 
Joel's always been big. With his broad shoulders and biceps that often strain under his plaid shirts, he's the quieter one of the three of them, the softer one.
A gentle giant that would always come to your aid if you needed him. And he knows how to grill a mean steak when he invites you and Frankie over for barbecues and he makes for the perfect, gracious host. 
But tonight, he's showing you a side of him you never thought could exist. A side of him that's turning you on explicitly, despite the creeping exhaustion and pursed reluctance.
Joel's a Texan gentleman through and through. But tonight, he's a wild fucking animal. 
“Y'gonna hold ya girl steady for me, Frankie? Squirmy lil' thing ain’t she?" Joel grunts as he unbuckles his belt. 
Momentarily, you feel Frankie lifting your head into his lap and securing your arms above your head as you wriggle and headbutt against his thighs. “Don’t fight it, hermosa.” He warns. 
"Gon' make a mess of ya, darlin'," Joel smirks as he shuffles his jeans off and you spy his ominous cock; massively hard and dripping. It's huge, almost comically so, and you gulp. 
Fuck!
"Ya ever had a cock this big before? Gon' break ya open." Joel spits into his palm and smears it all around his fat head as he pumps himself. 
You gasp; a deep guttural howl transmorphing into a silent scream as Joel pushes the head of his engorged cock against your hole and begins stretching you out.
"Oh God… so fuckin’ tight. Ya didn't tell me how good this would be, Frankie." Joel groans through a slack jaw. "Ya can't be keeping this pussy to yourself. That ain't fair." 
You hear Dave snicker in agreement above you as he repositions himself on the couch to get a better view of your plight. 
“Oh fuck…” You cry out as Joel continues to push in further.
Frankie's cock was big, he often left a delicious ache deep inside you for days after. Even Dave's cock you'd feel bruising around your insides in the morning. But Joel? Fuck, Joel wasn't joking when he said he'd break you open.
It burns and sears and you feel so full despite him not being all the way in yet.   
"Fuck Joel, you're… it's too much. I can't-" You protest, shaking your head and screwing up your eyes.
"Suck it up." He grunts as he pushes his hips further into yours. 
"Take it," Frankie grizzles, as you try to thrash against his hands, pinning your arms down. Your whole body feels full of Joel as he finally stills; his full, fat length buried inside you and you can feel yourself rib and pulse around him, already on the cusp of falling apart. You're whimpering and shaking already.
"Well look at that, seems ya can take me after all, sweetheart." Joel smirks, the crest of his hips now pressed flush against yours. The weight of him crushing you somewhat. He looms over you, his gigantic palms flat on the floor by your head. 
"Please move," you whimper around grinding your teeth. “Oh God, Joel, you’re too fucking big-”
"What's that, darlin'? Ya begging me to fuck ya now?" Joel chuckles. "Ya girl's really greedy for cock, Frankie." 
“Fuck her,” Dave encourages. 
Joel pulls backwards and slams forward into you with a hard shunt. "There we go." 
"FUCK!" You wail, water blinding your eyes as they mist over. You feel him; one quick, hard shunt of his cock inside of you and you gasp at the full invading breach as he bottoms out.
Although it feels like he’s ripped right through your back. 
He does it again and your breath is pumped out of your lungs into the air above you as you flounder, trying to suck it all back in. 
Joel's large paws grab at your hips as he kneels up and steadies himself into a brutal pace, rattling your bones with each powerful thrust. 
Your hands squeeze into fists and you glance up at Frankie; a poised smirk over his upside down features, a few renegade curls falling into his face, watching Joel's thick cock hammer into you. 
Joel's grunts fill your senses, mesmerised by the way he looks down to see himself pull back and admire how wet his cock is with you before he raises his eyebrow up and smirks accomplished. “Greasin’ me up good, darlin’.”
“Joel!” You wail as he slams on in again. You’re just a body for him to fuck, a toy for him to twist out of shape and break apart. “Oh fuck, please, nuuaaaahhh!"
Your gasps and cries are soon silenced by Dave straddling your face and planting his heavy balls into your mouth. "Shut up and suck." He commands.
He strokes his now hard cock again, and groans as you’re forced to suck whilst Joel continues to annihilate your cunt. 
Dave smirks at Frankie who’s still pinning your wrists in place. 
You look up at them both, staring into one another as Dave jerks his cock and Frankie holds his eye contact with flared nostrils.
Dave grips onto Frankie's shoulder with a heavy clap. He growls whilst you suck on his balls that have completely filled your mouth, squeaking around them as Joel forcefully pulls another orgasm from you. 
Frankie rests his forehead against Dave's as he groans, fucking into his own fist. 
You see Frankie's lips twitch, whispering to him, but you can't hear anything over your own muffled squeaks and Joel's rabid panting.
You think you lipread Frankie telling Dave to come. To come for him, and that thought alone makes you surge and cry out as you release all over Joel's cock uncontrollably.
Meanwhile, Joel is destroying your cunt as he thrusts deep and with intent on making you feel it; feel him with every shunt that leaves you gasping for oxygen as it's pushed out of you by his dick. There's simply no room in your body for both. 
Your squeaking around Dave's balls reaches a fever pitch and the humming against them only makes him grunt and growl heavier. 
His grip on Frankie's shoulder tightens, screwing up his t-shirt as he pumps his cock faster. He tenses and you feel his balls lurch in your mouth as he spurts ropes of thick ejaculate all over Frankie's denim clad thighs. 
He hoists himself off of you, panting and sitting back on the couch. "Clean him up," Dave instructs you with a click of his fingers. 
Joel pulls out of you and flips you over onto all fours and ploughs back in as you shakily get to licking Dave's come off of Frankie's jeans. 
"Good slut," Dave praises as he sits back on the couch, his arm slung over his face and breathes deeply. 
You feel Joel pry apart your ass cheeks. You feel a wet globule of his spit on your ass and you flinch at it, feeling it cool and sloppy as he rubs his thick fingers around it, teasing your puckered hole.
You then feel Joel's thumb stretch through your rim. You instinctively clench and he growls. 
"Clench and it's gon' hurt. I'll make sure of it." He smacks your ass as you yelp from the sting.
"Relax, hermosa," Frankie instructs, grabbing hold of your face and focusing your attention on him.
You shake your head frantically; the thought of Joel’s cock ploughing in your ass fills you with utter dread and horror. “No,” you implore Frankie with wide eyes. 
“I said, relax.” Frankie says squeezing your cheek bones tightly. You can feel Joel twisting his thumb deeply in your hole.
 A dewdrop of Dave’s come is smeared on your cheek and Frankie scoops it onto his finger and holds it out to you. He hisses, biting his lip as you suck it off, eyeing him the whole time.  
"You're such a good fucking whore for us, aren't you, baby? Quieres esto tan mala, ¿verdad?" Frankie nods encouragingly as you fall under his dark spell. You feel his own thumbs stroke at the sides of your face now as you pant and whine. 
"Yeah…" you nod too, straining not to clench as Joel's thick thumb hooks fully into your ass. 
"There we go, snug as a bug, darlin'." He emits a chuckle that seems to grab at you and shake you with its eerie, sadistic violence.
“Does ya girl squirt Frankie?” Joel asks as you inadvertently start pushing back against him as he fucks you more laboured now.
Frankie chuckles and nods. “Just gotta know the right place to stroke.” He looks back at your face in his hands, sweaty and panting. “Isn’t that right, baby?”
Joel nods in agreement. “I reckon you can squirt for me, darlin’.”
“She can. Let me get some of that pussy.” Frankie says, highly enthused at the prospect. 
Joel pulls out and rolls you on your back as you collapse into the floor. You can see Dave sitting forward, elbows on his knees and watching you intently with those dark eyes. You reach around his ankle and tug gently and whine and he responds to your wanting.
He slips down and slides behind you, propping you up, groping and massaging your breasts.
You catch the glimmer of his wedding band as his hands work your tits and you can only wonder at what Carol is assuming he’s doing this evening.
Those thoughts are cut short as Joel kneels up, slipping his thick cock back inside you, and Frankie lays down beside him on his stomach and starts sucking on your clit. 
You whine, watching intently as Joel’s hand comes down on the back of Frankie’s head, sifting through his curls and groans. His mouth is practically on Joel's cock too, and it does something to you as your body fizzes in response to the delicious sight of it. 
“Fuck!” You cry out, biting down on your lip. 
The pressure on your clit and the way Joel hits that spot deep inside you just right starts to build in your body. It all centres, gathering deep in the pit of your core as the warmth starts to choke you up.
You feel it tightening, bunching. Your toes start to curl, your fingers crack. Your back lifts and arches of its own volition and your thighs shake and stiffen.
You feel a pull, a heavy sensation as you bear down. The pressure mounting, pushing… You see those phosphenes glimmer at you as you close your eyes.
You can hear Dave’s snarls close to your ear, feel his fingers tugging on your nipples. Feel Frankie’s skilled tongue drawing those fast, dizzying circles on your clit. Feel Joel hitting that spot again and again that’s going to annihilate you imminently.
They're everywhere, they're all over you.
Your climax is almost violent; you buck and shudder as you release the pressure, always feeling for a split second like you'll pee, but don't.
You're gushing loudly, and uncontrollably, over Joel’s cock and Frankie’s lips. It bears down again, that weight inside of you erupting as you release. Frankie laps it up like a starving animal as it soaks his scruff. It feels like you’ll never stop. 
“Holy shit!” Dave remarks with a smirk watching you squirt. He squeezes your tits together as you place your hands over his and giggle deliriously. He squeezes your fingers around his. 
The combination of having Joel’s thick cock in your pussy, while receiving a tongue fucking from Frankie makes for a most lewd and unabashed scene whilst your head thrashes against’s Dave chest as he chuckles just as bewildered by it as you are.
You can’t believe it, your cunt is absolutely gushing as the three of them work in tandem to completely destroy you. And you’re loving it. 
Frankie licks his lips that are dripping as he rises up, the collar of his t-shirt is soaked, and Joel grabs a hold of you and fucks harder, quicker. More determined as he nears his own release. 
“Joel!” You wail as you squeeze against Dave’s fingers, feeling like you could crush them.
Finally, Joel comes roaring like an animal, and pumps himself liberally inside of you. 
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"Fill her up now, Frankie.” Joel nods with a puff as he pulls out.
The mess that is over the wooden floor between your legs is obscene.
Frankie pulls off his Levi’s, runs a hand through his messy hair, and crawls over you.
"Who's pussy is this?" He asks slipping a finger side of you and feeling the spend of both his friends in there, warm and silken.
"Yours," you whimper.
"Really? I think you need reminding, hermosa. Seeing as you've been such a fucking slut tonight, hmm?"
"Frankie..." you whine as he pulls you forward towards him. He lines himself up with your pussy, pushing in.
"Aah!" You groan.
“Fuck, Joel stretched you nice and good, baby. Shit. You feel loosened up.” He growls thrusting hard and fast. You can only clutch onto him, only whine and groan as Frankie gives you his all.
"My pussy. My fucking pussy." Frankie seethes at you, hips snapping furiously into you. He pants, growls. Garbled Spanish and English flows from his lips as he pummels you.
He finishes inside of you quickly, too riled up from this whole scene to not bust a nut quickly. 
“Got all three of us in that slutty pussy now, don't you?" Dave taunts.
“Which one of our kids ya gon’ have?” Joel smirks as he pats your tummy gently. “Cunt’s filled to the brim.”
The three of them dazzle you, utterly fucking you up. Working together like a team; a gang of insidious spectres dominating and taking their turns with you.
And you fucking love every single second of it. 
After Frankie fills you, Joel pulls apart your legs to watch the cream pie spilling out of you. 
He runs his fingers through it, pushing it back inside you. He then brings them to your face, Dave holding onto your jaw and bringing it forward towards Joel's drenched digits. He rubs them over your lips. "Lick ‘em clean. Taste all of us." 
They all watch with praise and smirks as your tongue moves out tentatively, licking the salty cream from Joel’s fingers until he finally pushes them in your mouth.
Your lips wrap around them tightly as you suck them like you would Frankie's cock.
“Mmm,” you whine, giggling. "You all taste good."
Dave chuckles behind you and Frankie laughs, his chin leaning on Joel’s broad shoulder.
“Good slut,” Dave praises in your ear.
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You lay there in a crumpled heap, gradually gathering your thoughts; striving to understand and come to terms with what has happened this spooky evening. 
But initially you’re still too confused, still swimming in a blissed out fracture of reality bobbing along the surface of a choppy existence.
Baffling questions bloom and wilt quickly as you have no answers to appease the turmoil of embarrassment, shame… of pure unadulterated pleasure. 
You can hear the shrill echoes of the guys in the hall, dressed and murmuring with Frankie. You can't hear much, the ringing in your ears from your body being mauled and torn at still hums, but you think you can make out Joel saying something. 
She’s a good sport… Hope she liked it.
Take care of her tonight. Dave adds. 
Ya still coming over Sunday, for the game? Joel checks.
You feel like you zone out for a while, only coming to when Frankie stands above you, towering and looming; his presence breaking the barriers of your heavy consciousness.
The look on his face is unreadable, impenetrable. 
You peep up at him from behind the scraggy mess of your knotted hair, your scalp still aching from how hard Dave had tugged on it. 
"I can't believe you did it." You grin, the concealed violence of this night escaping through your teeth into blissed satisfaction.
Frankie’s cool look instantly melts into a warm sunbeam. "Was it what you wanted, querida?" He asks, crouching down, knuckles running against your leg affectionately.
You nod. "It was better than I could have imagined. Creepy. But so fucking good." You smirk dreamily. "I really got into it."
He smiles accomplished, a faint blush of pink creeping under his eyes and in the crinkles there as he grins. "Good. How are you feeling, you a little sore?"
"My whole body feels like I've been tackled. I think Joel broke me." You start laughing as your pussy flinches in horror at the recall of him stretching you wider than you've ever been. 
"He's a big guy." Frankie chortles. 
"You're telling me. Jesus." You reach down and cup your battered pussy. 
"Come on. I'll run you a bath." Frankie scoops you up in his arms and carries you up to the bathroom.
You plant a delicate smooch on the side of his golden neck. “Thank you for this,” you murmur. 
“Cualquier cosa por ti, mi amor.” He runs his soft scruff against your cheek as he navigates the stairs. You can smell your cunt in it and you smile. 
He gets in the bath with you, pulling you back against his soft belly and soaping your body down with a hot washcloth. Your wrists are still purple; he smiles insidiously, feeling a rush through his cock at the decay of them.
"Did you enjoy it?" You query as his soapy fingers interlock with yours and you feel his breath cool against the shell of your ear. 
"I loved every second of it," he assures. 
"No jealousy?"
"None at all. I trust them. We discussed it in length. I told them anything goes, but no kissing you on the mouth and they respected that. It's all good."
You nod and mull it over, enjoying the hot water soothing the embryonic bruises you know will gestate overnight on your skin. You glance down at the purple bites Joel left on you. You press on one enjoying the masochistic flare for a few moments. 
You think back to so many things, but then you remember Dave and Frankie and that intimate moment you witnessed where Frankie was whispering to him. 
"Have you guys… ever done stuff together?"
"No. No, never." He says. “First time. For all of us actually.”
You nod, admittedly feeling a little swell of disappointment. But it’s washed away by the thought that perhaps they’ll be up for it again, one day.
"Well, this is going to make poker nights interesting now, hmm?" 
You feel his chest vibrate against your back as he laughs. "Yeah." 
"Dave is just… an animal!" You exclaim chuckling.
"Poor Carol." Frankie says, and you both start laughing and find you can't stop for a little while.
You both stay in the water until it starts to cool and the bubbles have all gone, just enjoying Frankie noodling and fussing over you, and relishing how lucky you are as he wraps his wet arms around you, and you could happily drown in the bath water.
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It's late; the dawn is on the cusp of rising on the first day in November and you watch as Frankie climbs into the sheets, naked as the day God created him with golden tan skin, pulling you back against his body that moulds itself around yours like warm putty. 
His thumb draws gentle circles on your navel as he buries his face into the nape of your neck. You reach for your phone, previously plugging the charger back into the wall.
“Did you do something to the power?” You query.
He chuckles. “Yeah. I switched off the breaker. Joel must’ve reset it when they left.” He yawns. 
“You guys thought of everything.” You smile. 
"We were in the house for a while. You were asleep." You hear him smirk into you skin.
You smile. You see a message that had come through whilst your phone was off, from Frankie, and click it open.
It's a selfie of Frankie, Joel and Dave outside on the porch with the Halloween masks on, possibly taken moments before they stormed the house. 
Underneath is a message typed out:
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You smirk as Frankie stirs behind you, rubbing your back, and you put your phone back on the table and rollover into his arms.  
The light from your phone stays illuminated on your previous message thread with Frankie:
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“I love you,” you murmur into his skin as you settle, closing your eyes. You plant a couple of small kisses on his chest.
"Yo tambien te amo, hermosa." Frankie whispers, his fingers dancing slowly in your hair as you finally drift off into an exhausted sleep inside of the Devil’s arms. 
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I really hope you got a spooky kick out this story. I'd love to know your thoughts and I hope you enjoyed reading it on this Halloween Fright Night. 🖤🎃
🎃 Re-blogs & comments fuel me! TY!💀
MASTERLIST
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tainsan · 1 month
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misfits XIII
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⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader
⇥ warnings: self deprication but thats it I think :O, mentions of suggestive content
⇥ word count: 9.1k
⇥ a/n: hello guys, it has been a while. sorry for my inactivity and all the people waiting for new chapters, i havent been very well the past few months. i am okay though!! i hope you enjoy this chapter even though it is somewhat of a filler
⇢ masterlist ⇠
previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter...
Finishing typing the last sentence of your assignment, a sense of accomplishment washes over you. But even in that moment of triumph, the proposition from your roommates continues to occupy your thoughts. It had been a distraction throughout the day, and it had affected your ability to concentrate on your work.
The internal struggle you are experiencing is rooted in a mix of emotions. You yearned for the affection and love your roommates offered, wanting to be part of a relationship that felt incredibly meaningful. But doubts lingered in the back of your mind, like shadows in the corners of your thoughts.
‘Am I good enough?’ The question had haunted you throughout the day. You wondered if you were deserving of their affections, if you could truly measure up to their standards. Insecurity gnaws at you, and you can’t help but compare yourself to the admirers and fans your roommates had.
The cryptic message you had received added another layer of uncertainty. You were aware of the intense scrutiny and potential backlash that came with being in a relationship with the ‘famous’ campus group. The fear of facing hate and criticism from others weighs heavily on your mind, making you wonder if you have the strength to endure it.
Your curtains are open, allowing the dim, amber light from the streetlights outside to filter into your room. It's nighttime, and the glow of the streetlights casts soft, gentle patterns on your walls. The air in your room is crisp, and the faint aroma of dinner cooking wafts through the air, creating a cosy and inviting atmosphere. Your laptop sits on your desk, its screen illuminating your face as you sit in quiet contemplation, lost in your thoughts and the gentle ambiance of the night.
Closing your laptop, your roommates' proposition still loomed large, a complex and challenging choice that required careful consideration. You knew that the path ahead wouldn't be easy, but you also knew that your feelings for them were genuine and deep. 
Suddenly, a knock resounds on your door.
"____, dinner is ready," San's voice reaches you through the wooden door.
You close your laptop and push back your chair, acknowledging his call. "Coming," you respond, but the weakness in your voice doesn't escape San's notice.
Stepping out of your room, you find San waiting for you in the hallway, his brow furrowed and concern evident in his eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle, as he takes in the change in your usual behaviour.
You pause for a moment, meeting San's gaze with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. It is clear that he sensed something was amiss, and you appreciated his concern. You manage a faint smile, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes as you offer a reassuring nod. 
"I'm fine," you say, a small white lie slipping past your lips. You didn't want to burden San with your worries or concerns, not when they were already so caring and supportive.
“You aren't good at lying, sweetheart.” San's expression remains filled with concern, the nickname making your heart skip a beat. 
"It's nothing, San," you say with a forced smile, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes. You walk past him into the dining room without making much eye contact, leaving him with a gnawing feeling of concern in the pit of his stomach.
San watches you go, his brows furrowing deeper with worry. He knows you well enough to sense when something is wrong, and tonight, something definitely doesn't seem right. Your usual enthusiasm and energy have been replaced by a quiet reserve that's completely out of character.
As he makes his way to the kitchen, he can't help but feel a growing unease. San has come to know that you have a tendency to keep your worries to yourself, often trying to spare others from your burdens. But tonight, it feels different, and he can't shake the feeling that you might be going through something you're not sharing.
In the kitchen, he finds Hongjoong, who's busy with some last-minute preparations for dinner. San doesn't waste any time and approaches him, his voice low and filled with concern. 
"Hey, Joong, have you noticed anything strange about ____? She's been acting really off tonight."
Hongjoong, focused on his task, pauses and looks at San, his brows furrowing in response to the worried tone in San's voice. 
"Off? What do you mean?"
San briefly explains how you've been unusually quiet and distant, and how your smile seems forced. Hongjoong's expression shifts from curiosity to deep concern as he listens.
"Thanks for letting me know, San," Hongjoong says, his own worry now evident. He sets down the utensils he was holding and sighs, his thoughts consumed by concern for you. "We should keep an eye on her. Maybe after dinner, we can talk to her and see if there's anything she wants to share, just in case there’s something bothering her.."
Just as they're discussing their concerns, Mingi, who had been in the hallway and overhears their conversation, joins them with a troubled expression. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but the gravity of the situation had drawn him in.
"What's going on, guys?" Mingi asks, his voice laced with worry. "Is something wrong with ____?"
San and Hongjoong exchange a glance, realising that their concerns had been overheard. Hongjoong explains the situation to Mingi, filling him in on your unusual behaviour and the sense of unease that had settled over the house.
Mingi's expression darkens with worry, as Hongjoong and San scurry to continue preparing for dinner, Mingi takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words pressing on him. He clears his throat, his voice steady but filled with concern.
"I've noticed it too," Mingi begins, his eyes darting between San and Hongjoong. “She was really quiet when we walked home today, usually she talks about her day in detail…”
Mingi’s voice trails off and Hongjoong notices he has more to say.
“What is it, Mingi?” He asks, concerned.
"I can’t help thinking about what she told us the other day, about her depression and the night up on the rooftop.”
San leans against the counter, his brow furrowed in sadness as he remembers your heart piercing words. 
“I'm worried that whatever's bothering her tonight might be related to that. I hope it's nothing too serious, but... I can't help but worry if it's making her have those thoughts again.” Mingi lowers his voice and walks towards the two, “her anxiety has been really bad recently, she had an extreme anxiety attack a while ago, I thought her mind had slipped completely."
San and Hongjoong exchange glances, their worry deepening as they absorb Mingi's revelation.
Hongjoong nods, his expression determined. "We need to talk to her, then. Make sure she knows we're here for her, no matter what."
Mingi and San both agree, and their shared worry for you becomes the driving force behind their preparations for dinner. They want tonight to be an opportunity for you to open up, to share whatever is weighing on your mind, and to remind you that you're not alone in this journey. Mental health is something they take seriously, and they're ready to offer their support in any way they can.
Seonghwa, who is seated beside you, shoots you a concerned glance as he notices your quietness as you enter the room, along with your distant expression. 
"Hey," he says softly, reaching out to gently touch your hand. "Is everything okay?"
You blink, snapping out of your thoughts and offer Seonghwa a faint smile. "Yeah, I'm just... thinking," you reply, your voice trailing off as you continue to wrestle with your internal turmoil.
Across from you, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Jongho exchange worried glances, their usual lively banter subdued by the palpable tension that seems to emanate from you. They had all picked up on your unease the second you entered the room and were extremely concerned about your well-being.
Yeosang, who is sitting at the head of the table, clears his throat and speaks up, his voice gentle yet filled with genuine concern. "You've been really quiet today. Is there something on your mind?"
You glanced around the table at the faces of your roommates, each one displaying a mix of worry and care. They have been so patient and understanding, and you can’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the bonds you had formed with them over time. You appreciate their concern, yet it feels almost overwhelming for them to be questioning you.
Taking a deep breath, you realise that they will likely not drop the situation until they have an answer. 
"Just a busy day," you reply, attempting to brush off their concern with a forced smile. However, you know that your roommates can see right through your facade. 
"You can't lie very well," Jongho's soft voice speaks up from in front of you, his eyes holding a gentle concern that's difficult to ignore. You can feel the weight of his worry pressing down on you, and it only intensifies your own anxieties. 
Before you can respond, the atmosphere in the room shifts noticeably. San, Mingi, and Hongjoong enter the dining area, their faces reflecting the tension in the room. They exchange quick glances, and it's clear that the others have noticed your change in demeanour.
Wooyoung, Yeosang, Seonghwa, and Jongho keep their eyes on you, their worry palpable. They know you well enough to recognize when something is bothering you, and it's evident that your previous statement didn't satisfy their concerns. They exchange subtle glances with each other, a silent form of communication that you're all too familiar with.
You continue to insist that you're okay, not wanting your concerns to burden them. You don't want them to know about the malicious messages you've been receiving, along with the fear of not being good enough. You were on the verge of saying yes to their proposition until those messages arrived, and they've left you feeling frightened and uncertain.
Despite your attempts to reassure everyone, they keep pressing you, their genuine concern for your well-being on full display. 
San leans in slightly closer, his eyes searching yours as he says, "love, we're just worried about you. You don't seem like yourself tonight."
Mingi adds, "Yeah, you're usually the one who brings the energy to the group. We hate to see you like this."
Hongjoong chimes in, "If something's bothering you, you can always talk to us. We're here for you."
Seonghwa nods in agreement, his expression soft and caring. "You don't have to carry your burdens alone, ____."
As their questions and probing looks continue, you can feel your patience wearing thin. You're caught in a whirlwind of emotions, torn between wanting to open up and fearing their reaction to your struggles. The thought of burdening them with your problems only adds to your anxiety.
Finally, you stand up, your irritation bubbling to the surface. "I said I'm fine, okay?" 
Your voice is sharper than you intended, and you can see the hurt in their eyes. You immediately regret your outburst, but the pressure of the situation has become too much to bear. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to…”
Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, the sounds of their worried whispers following you like a haunting melody.
Leaving the dining room, the tense atmosphere you've left behind still lingers in your mind. You're not sure where you're going or what you plan to do; you just need to escape the overwhelming concern of your roommates for a moment.
However, as you turn the corner towards your room, you unexpectedly bump into Yunho, who seems to be on his way out of his bedroom. His eyes immediately catch the distress on your face, and he can sense that something is wrong.
"Tiny, wait," Yunho calls out, his voice laced with worry as he takes a step towards you, trying to scan what is happening.
But you're already moving, your steps quick and determined. You can't handle the concern of another person right now, not when you're struggling to hold yourself together. With a mumbled apology, you hurriedly walk past Yunho, your heart racing with a mixture of emotions. 
Yunho watches you for a moment, concern etched across his face, before realising that you're not going to stop. He knows he can't force you to talk if you're not ready, but he can't shake the feeling that something is seriously bothering you. Yunho makes his way to the dining room, his heart heavy.
Back in your room, you shut the door behind you, your heart heavy with a mixture of emotions. You're not hungry anymore, and the thoughts of the messages and your own insecurities continue to haunt you. The room feels suffocating as you wrestle with your fears, wishing you could find a way to escape them and open up to your roommates about what's truly been bothering you.
Meanwhile, in the dining room, your roommates are clearly unsettled by your abrupt departure and your obvious distress. They exchange concerned glances, their worry for you evident in their expressions. 
Mingi is the first to break the silence, his voice filled with unease. "I'm assuming you all notice something is very wrong?" he asks, his brow furrowing.
Seonghwa and Wooyoung nod in agreement, both clearly affected by your behaviour. 
Seonghwa speaks up, his voice soft but laced with concern. "She's been distant all day. I thought it was just stress or something, but this is different."
San clenches his fists, his frustration and guilt bubbling to the surface. "We should've noticed something was wrong. She's been dealing with something, and we didn't even realise it."
Wooyoung places a comforting hand on San's shoulder, trying to calm him down. "San, don't blame yourself. We all missed it. What's important now is figuring out what's going on and how we can help her."
Yunho chimes in, "You're right, Wooyoung. We need to support her. She's one of us, and we can't let her go through this alone."
Yeosang adds, "I agree. We think we should give her some space for now, but we can't just leave her like this."
Jongho, ever the caring and empathetic one, speaks softly, "Maybe we should send someone to talk to her. Make sure she's okay."
Hongjoong nods, considering the options. "I'll go."
Yeosang offers, "And bring her some food. She didn't eat anything, and skipping meals won't help."
With a unanimous decision to have Hongjoong talk to you, your roommates feel a mix of concern and hope. They know that Hongjoong's leadership and caring nature make him the right choice to approach you in this delicate situation. 
As they continue their meal, their thoughts are with you, hoping that you'll open up to Hongjoong and that whatever is troubling you can be resolved. They also feel a sense of unity and support among themselves, knowing that they'll be there for you no matter what. Hongjoong finishes his meal quickly, determined to check on you and make sure you're okay.
-
In the confines of your room, tears stream down your cheeks as you huddle beneath your sheets. The weight of your emotions presses heavily on your chest, making it hard to breathe. Negative thoughts swirl in your head, each one more self-doubting and destructive than the last.
“Why did I snap like that?” You question yourself, your voice barely a whisper amidst the tears. "They're going to think I'm a burden, that I can't handle this."
You bury your face in your pillow, muffling your sobs as you contemplate the possibility that your roommates might stop liking you because of your outburst. It's a fear that gnaws at your heart, leaving you feeling vulnerable and alone.
Thoughts of inadequacy and worthlessness swirl relentlessly in your mind. You replay the dinner table scene over and over, each time emphasising how you snapped and how you failed to explain what's been troubling you. The fear of being a burden gnaws at your soul, and you're convinced that your roommates must be tired of dealing with your issues.
"Why can't I just be normal?" you whisper to yourself, your voice trembling with self-recrimination. "Why can't I handle this like everyone else?"
The tears continue to flow, unabated, as you feel like you're drowning in a sea of self-criticism. You wish you could push these thoughts away, but they cling to you like a relentless storm, obscuring any glimmer of hope or positivity.
In this moment, you long for someone to rescue you from the darkness, to pull you out of this suffocating abyss of negativity. You crave understanding and acceptance, but the fear that you'll never find it keeps you locked in a cycle of despair, feeling more alone than ever.
Just as you feel like you're being swallowed whole by your negative thoughts, a faint but unmistakable knock on your door breaks through the darkness. It's a sound that pierces through the gloom like a ray of light, a glimmer of hope that someone cares enough to check on you.
With a shaky breath, you sit up in your bed, wiping away your tears as you call out, "Come in."
The door opens slowly, and Hongjoong steps into the room, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. His presence alone feels like a lifeline, something to cling to in the midst of your emotional turmoil. The moment his eyes land on your tear stained face, his heart tugs in his chest, feeling as if it dropped to his stomach.
"Hey," he says softly, his voice filled with compassion.
You swallow hard, your throat still constricted from crying, but you manage to find your voice. "I... I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. It's just... I've been feeling overwhelmed, and I didn't know how to explain it."
Hongjoong takes a step closer, his eyes filled with empathy. "Shh, you don't have to apologise. We all have our moments, and we care about you. You're not a burden, ____."
"I'm sorry, Hongjoong," you murmur, your voice heavy with emotions.
Hongjoong moves closer, his heart racing with the need to provide you with comfort. He stands before you at your bedside, hesitating for a moment before finally taking a seat beside you.
"Can I touch you?" he asks gently, his eyes filled with concern.
Looking at him, you see the glaze in his eyes. He looks nervous. You nod in response, granting him permission to offer his support. 
Hongjoong takes your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. His heart pounds in his chest, a silent declaration that he cares deeply about your well-being.
"You don't have to apologise, ____," he says softly, his voice filled with understanding. "We're here for each other, through the good times and the bad."
Your eyes meet his, and you can see the sincerity and compassion reflected in his gaze. It's a comfort to know that you have someone who genuinely cares about your struggles.
The contrast between the authoritative and sometimes stern Hongjoong you've seen before and the gentle, comforting side he's showing now is striking. It makes your heart flutter and leaves you feeling surprisingly vulnerable. 
You've always respected Hongjoong's leadership within your group of roommates. He exudes confidence and commands attention effortlessly. But seeing this softer, caring side of him makes you realise there's so much more to him than meets the eye. 
As he sits beside you, offering his support and understanding, you can't help but be drawn to him more than you have felt before. His caring demeanour is like a soothing remedy for your troubled soul, and you find yourself appreciating him even more.
"I appreciate you being here," you admit, your voice quivering with emotion.
Hongjoong responds with a warm, reassuring smile, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. 
"Anytime," he reassures you.
Hongjoong continues to offer you his comforting presence, yet he notices the lingering sadness in your eyes. He can tell that there's something more troubling you, something beyond what you've shared so far.
“I would appreciate knowing what is going on. We want to help you.”
You hesitate for a moment, struggling with whether or not to open up about the malicious messages. But his sincerity and the trust you've built in this vulnerable moment encourage you to share.
"It's…” you begin to talk, yet you feel the familiar pit of anxiety forming in your chest.
Hongjoong turns towards you, his worry evident as he scans your slightly shaking body.
“It’s okay ____.” 
“I want to say yes.” you say, “to be yours.”
The weight of your words settles in the air, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. Hongjoong's heart races, and the room feels charged with a new energy. Hearing you express your feelings for him so openly and sincerely is something he never expected, yet it's the most beautiful surprise he could have imagined.
His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mixture of surprise, joy, and a deep, profound affection. He searches your gaze as if trying to read every emotion, every thought that lies beneath the surface. Yet when he sees the hurt expression on your face, he wonders what else you have to say.
“I don't know if I can.” 
The moment your words leave your lips, a heavy silence settles between you and Hongjoong. His expression shifts from one of hopeful anticipation to a mixture of surprise, disappointment, and hurt. It's as if the air has been sucked out of the room, leaving behind a palpable tension.
Hongjoong tries to find his words, but his voice catches in his throat, and for a brief moment, he can't meet your gaze. He looks away, his jaw clenched as he processes your rejection.
“I… I see.” he finally manages to say, “why… is that?”
“The messages," you finally admit, your voice shaky. 
Immediately Hongjoong is confused about your statement. He doesn't understand what the messages have to do with you rejecting him.
“What messages?”
You take a deep breath, your eyes welling up with tears as you try to explain. "I've been receiving some weird messages… about all of you.”
“What do you mean? What do they say?” 
“Well, I only got one, but it was strange.” 
You show Hongjoong the message, "have fun with my boys…" and you witness as Hongjoong's eyes narrow in recognition, and his fists clench even tighter. 
It feels as if his world is crashing down on him as he pieces together the puzzle. Hongjoong's expression morphs into one of anger, his jaw tensing as he absorbs your words. The protective instinct within him flares, and he clenches his fists, visibly seething. He knows exactly who sent the messages. Despite his rising anger, he remains composed in front of you, not wanting to further burden you with his own emotions.
"It's okay, just ignore that message," Hongjoong says, and though he attempts to conceal his anger, you can sense the underlying frustration in his tone.
Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you press, "Hongjoong?"
He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Don't let other people's opinions define our relationship. It's about us and no one else."
“Hongjoong, I’m scared of starting a relationship with you guys.”
Hongjoong's expression softens as he senses your vulnerability. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.
"I understand," he replies softly. "Starting a relationship with us might seem daunting, but remember that we care about you deeply. We'll be here every step of the way, and you don't have to face anything alone. Please don't worry about what others think. It is just us in this, no one else."
His words provide you with a sense of security, and you begin to realise that you have a strong support system with the boys.
You let out a sigh, your worries spilling out. "It's just... I'm afraid I'm not good enough for you guys. You're all so amazing, and I don't want to hold you back or bring any problems into your lives." voicing your worries, a wave of self-doubt begins to wash over you. 
Before you can delve further into your anxieties, Hongjoong moves with a surprising swiftness. He places a gentle hand under your chin, lifting your head to meet his eyes, effectively silencing your anxious thoughts. His touch is feather-light yet firm, a reassuring gesture that instantly grabs your attention.
A split second later, your breath catches as he leans down, his warm lips tenderly pressing against your forehead. The kiss feels like a soft promise, an unspoken reassurance that sends shivers down your spine. You're momentarily stunned by this unexpected display of affection, your heart racing in your chest.
Without any hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The embrace is warm, secure, and filled with an undeniable tenderness that envelopes you entirely. It's as if his arms are a sanctuary, a place where your worries and doubts can find refuge.
"My treasure," he murmurs, his voice a gentle whisper against your ear. "You are more than good enough. You're unique and special in your own way. We care about you for who you are, not for any other reason. Please don't doubt yourself. We're here because we want to be, and we'll support you through everything. We love you."
In his embrace, you find refuge and a sense of belonging that you've been longing for. The weight of your worries slowly dissipates, replaced by the comforting warmth of Hongjoong's presence and the knowledge that you are cherished just as you are.
In his embrace, you begin to feel the weight of your worries slowly dissipate, replaced by a warm sense of belonging and acceptance.
"You love me?" You pose the question, the words hanging in the air, your heart racing with a mix of hope and trepidation. Hongjoong looks at you, his expression a blend of surprise and realisation, as if he's just spoken without fully thinking through his words.
Chuckling softly, he pulls away from you, a confident and sincere look on his face. 
"Yes, I do," he affirms, his voice steady and filled with genuine emotion, yet you can see he is nervous for your response.
“Hongjoong, I think I love you too.” you admit, your face flushing hot. 
“Fuck ____.” Hongjoong swears through his teeth, then looks away from you. You look at him confused, your eyes wide.
“What?” You ask, confused at his reaction, scared of what he will say.
Hongjoong turns to glance back at you, his eyes meeting yours, and in that moment, he feels as if he's teetering on the edge of losing his mind and sanity. 
Your wide, doe-like eyes, filled with a mix of curiosity and a hint of mischief, hold an inexplicable power over him. It's as though they can peer into the depths of his soul, unravelling the layers he's tried to keep hidden. He cannot seem to get over how adorable and innocent you look. The way your words have such an impact on him leaves his mind swirling with many thoughts.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I won't be able to hold back.”
His unexpected words leave you utterly shocked, the abruptness of the confession catching you off guard. Yet, the way they make you feel is nothing short of indescribable.
A rush of heat surges through you, starting from the tips of your fingers and toes, and spreading like wildfire throughout your body. Your cheeks flush as a wave of flustered embarrassment washes over you.
But beneath the shock and embarrassment, a more primal, intoxicating sensation takes hold. You feel an undeniable surge of desire, a raw, visceral attraction that courses through your veins. Your heart races in response to the unexpected intensity of the moment. Hongjoong's words have an electrifying effect on you, leaving you in a state of arousal that you can't quite ignore. It's as if the room has suddenly grown hotter, and every inch of your skin tingles with a newfound awareness of his presence.
In this moment of vulnerability and desire, you find yourself torn between your instincts and your rationality. His confession has unleashed a torrent of emotions that you never expected to confront, and the magnetic pull between you and Hongjoong is impossible to deny.
“Hongjoong,” you whisper, your fingertips on fire as you play with your clothes.
“We should discuss the relationship with the boys when you are ready with your answer.” Hongjoong says, quickly, trying to ignore the way his heart is pounding in his chest.
Suddenly, a profound realisation washes over you: there is seemingly nothing in this world capable of undermining the unbreakable bond you share with the boys. After years of yearning for one another's company, you are now reunited, and it feels as though no external influence could ever drive a wedge between you. While you are fully aware that maintaining relationships can be challenging, with the boys, it all seems effortless. There's a natural understanding between you, a deep knowledge of each other that makes everything feel remarkably smooth and naturally occurring.
Amidst your personal struggles with mental health, a lingering concern lingers in your mind; the worry that these challenges might adversely affect your relationship. However, the boys have consistently demonstrated their unwavering support, proving time and again that they not only embrace your struggles but are also somewhat professional at navigating such turbulent waters. Their understanding and expertise in handling these issues have become a reassuring pillar of strength, reinforcing the belief that your bond can withstand any storm that life may throw your way.
“I want to say yes.” 
Hongjoong's eyes, once covered with nervousness, now lit up with an intensity you had never seen before. It was as if a constellation of stars had suddenly burst into existence within his gaze, filling the room with their luminous glow.
“Come, we need to talk to the boys.” 
Hongjoong's touch was gentle as he clasped your hand, coaxing you off the bed. You yielded to his pull, your feet finding the floor. But there was something lingering, something unsaid that held you back. You tugged him slightly, your grip on his hand urging him to pause. Confusion knit his brows, and his concern was palpable in his searching gaze.
“You don't have to hold back.” you whisper, with some fear as to his reaction, yet you start to feel confident upon seeing Hongjoong’s flustered state.
"Doll," Hongjoong whispers, his voice a seductive murmur as he closed the distance between you. His desire was evident in the way his eyes smouldered with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. His words hung in the air, thick with promise, and they caught you off guard.
"Let's talk to the boys," he continued, his tone laced with anticipation, "and when the time is right, I’ll show you everything I have been waiting to do for years.”
The boldness of his statement sends a rush of arousal coursing through your body. It is as if a dormant fire had been ignited, and your heart races at the thought of what awaits. The anticipation of sharing your desires and fantasies with him, of finally giving in to the passion that had simmered between you for so long, leaves you breathless with longing.
“Let’s go.”
Hongjoong walks behind you as you step back into the kitchen where your roommates' eyes immediately turn toward you. There's a mix of relief and concern in their expressions, like they've been holding their breath until your return.
Wooyoung, who's drying dishes with Yeosang, flashes a warm smile your way, but his eyes are filled with concern. Seonghwa and Yunho, chatting at the counter, both turn towards you with wide smiles on their faces, but their gazes are searching, trying to read your mood. Mingi, Jongho, and San, who are seated at the island, exchange subtle glances, and it's clear they've been discussing something among themselves.
It's like a silent symphony of emotions playing out in their eyes, and you can sense their collective concern hanging in the air. You take a deep breath, realising that it's time to address the situation, to clear the air and let them in on your feelings, just as you've allowed Hongjoong to do. Before you can speak, they collectively pause what they're doing, waiting for you to make the first move, to share your thoughts and feelings.
“I’m sorry guys, for rushing out like that…” You begin to say, yet before you can continue, a chorus of ‘It’s okay’ and ‘don't worry’s sound out, filling you with an intense feeling of gratitude.
"I, uh, wanted to say something," you begin, your voice carrying a mix of nervousness and anticipation. The room falls into a hushed silence, all eyes fixed on you, their expressions a blend of curiosity and affection.
Taking a deep breath, you look towards Hongjoong, who gives you a reassuring nod, making you feel more confident as you continue, "I've thought about this a lot, and I want you all to know how special you are to me. I think we should give it a try."
Around you, the boys freeze in their tracks, their expressions shifting from disbelief to sheer elation. Your words land in their hearts like a gentle caress, and the impact was profound. It was as if a wave of pure joy had washed over them, leaving them floating in a sea of happiness. Their faces light up with radiant smiles, their eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy. The room seemed to shimmer with an aura of warmth and contentment that only your words could bring.
Seonghwa, the embodiment of tenderness, takes a step closer, his voice filled with emotion. "You have no idea how much those words mean to us," he admits, his eyes glistening.
San, who had dreamt of this moment for years, is overwhelmed with gratitude. "I can’t believe this is happening," he said, his voice trembling with sincerity.
Yunho, the eternal optimist, can’t stop grinning. "This feels way better than I imagined!" he exclaimed under his breath, yet you manage to catch it, causing your heart to race even more than it already was.
Jongho, the pillar of strength, looks at you with profound appreciation. "Thank you for choosing us," he says, his voice steady with emotion.
Yeosang, usually reserved, couldn't help but express his delight. "I've been waiting for this for so long," he admitted, his eyes shining.
Mingi and Wooyoung, the jokers of the group, let out joyful laughs, not being able to speak any words, their happiness immeasurable.
Hongjoong, whose emotions were always close to the surface, openly shares his feelings. "I can't express how happy I am right now," he confesses, his voice quivering with emotion.
They surround you, their words and expressions convey the depth of their joy. It feels like a moment of pure happiness, a shared understanding that something beautiful is beginning. With hearts full of love and excitement, you know that your journey with these incredible individuals was just starting, and it was going to be an extraordinary adventure filled with love, passion, and unforgettable moments.
“Boys, back up a little,” Hongjoong speaks out, his usual tone of authority present once more as he realises all eight of them huddled around you, making you feel slightly vulnerable. 
The seven boys gathered around you pick up on your tenseness. It wasn't that you minded their presence in your personal space; in fact, their company was something you cherished. It was the attention focused solely on you that made you feel a bit small, like the centre of the universe in that moment. 
San, always attuned to your feelings, senses your unease. He takes a step back with the others and speaks gently, "Hey, we're here because we care about you, but we don't want you to feel overwhelmed. We can take things at your pace."
Thankfully, nobody seemed to mind your tenseness, realising the reasoning for it.
“So how is this going to work?” You manage to ask, not quite sure as to how a relationship with nine people is going to work out. 
Sitting down at your usual place at the table, you notice the boys rush to their own seats also.
“It's just like a normal relationship really.” Hongjoong answers your question as he takes a seat down in front of you.
“Just there’s a lot of love going around, I suppose.” Jongho adds, “it’s not too different to a monogamous relationship.”
“You probably will go on a lot of dates,” Seonghwa jokes, chuckling gently.
“And receive lots of affection,” Yeosang says quietly from his seat, and you can’t help but notice the blush covering his face. 
“But like every relationship, you are allowed to say no to us, in any way. If you aren't comfortable with something, don't be scared to let us know. We would hate to ever make you uncomfortable or upset.” Yunho says, a reassuring smile on his face, yet you can tell his words are important to him and the others around him, as they nod and agree to Yunho.
“If you have any questions don't feel scared to ask, but remember, this isn't a contract, it's a relationship, just go with the flow. You can do whatever you would like, and… leave whenever you want.”  Hongjoong says, his words slightly sorrow, which you are quick to reassure him.
“We don't need to think of that now, I’m not planning on leaving any time soon.” You quickly say, not wanting to see the hurt expression on Hongjoong’s face any longer.
Little did you know, your short but heartfelt statement brought joy not only to Hongjoong but to all eight men surrounding you. Their smiles grew wider, and their eyes shimmered with happiness as they soaked in your words.
“Like most relationships though,” Hongjoong begins, catching everyone’s attention, “although there are eight of us, not that I think you would ever even think of it, you can't be with anyone outside of this group. I want you to fully understand that.”
“Of course, I’m in a relationship with you eight, not anyone else and I think cheating is for sore losers who aren't happy with their partners but can't find the guts to break up with them because they are scared of losing the only person who cares about them in their lives.” You quickly cut off your rant, upon seeing the confused, yet agreeing expressions on the men around you.
"Damn girl, did someone hurt you?" Wooyoung playfully says, his tone light and teasing. But as soon as the words leave his mouth, a sense of realisation strikes him like a bolt of lightning as he sees your slightly hurt expression and his heart twangs with guilt. It wasn't just a casual remark; someone had, indeed, broken your trust, and the implications of that hit all the men around you like a ton of bricks.
Wooyoung’s playful expression shifts to one of concern and protectiveness in an instant. His eyes darken with a mix of anger and empathy as he realises that you have experienced pain and betrayal.
The other members, too, sense your change in behaviour . They exchange glances, silently communicating their readiness to support you.
San, who is observing you very intently, caught on to the change in your demeanour. He leans closer, his face reflecting his own concern. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks gently, his voice filled with genuine worry.
“It was a while ago, I'm rather glad it was a short lived relationship, he turned out to be such a dick.” 
“Does he go to our school?” Yunho asks, his eyes narrowed in some form of mixture of jealousy and anger.
“I am not going to answer that question.” You chuckle, “but don't worry about anything, I only have eyes for you guys now. It was one of my first relationships anyways, so I’m still quite new to the whole affection thing.” 
"Just how experienced are you?" Wooyoung can't resist teasing, a mischievous glint in his eye and a playful smirk on his face as he witnesses your flustered state.
San, standing beside Wooyoung, couldn't help but chuckle at the teasing. He playfully slaps Wooyoung on the back of the head, a gentle reprimand for his impulsive curiosity. However, it was evident that San, too, was curious about your past relationships.
The other members exchange knowing glances, their expressions a mix of amusement and interest. They were already accustomed to each other's past experiences, and your life is now intricately entwined with theirs, they can’t help but wonder how far you have gone into a relationship with someone. Naturally, they are curious about your past and the experiences that have shaped you.
It takes you a second to regain your composure, and you realise you could make some fun out of it while you're here. 
"Well, let's just say, I know what I like and what I want to try," you reply with a clearly suggestive undertone, a playful glint in your eye. Your words hang in the air, and it does not go unnoticed by the men surrounding you. Their eyes darken with desire as they absorb the implications of your statement. You hear a few sharp intakes of breath from around you, and you can't quite believe how much your words impacted the males around you.
In this moment, a tangible tension fills the room, the air crackling with unspoken desires and fantasies. Each of them felt a surge of longing, their own desires awakening in response to your sudden openness.
Hongjoong's usually composed demeanour wavers for a brief moment, his restraint tested by the allure of your words. Along with your words in the bedroom earlier, it seems like a potent mix that you are almost teasing him with.
San's eyes gleam with a playful challenge, as if he is ready to explore those desires with you. Desperately wanting to find the time with you to show you everything he’s been dreaming of for years.
Yunho feels a rush of heat, his thoughts consumed by the possibilities your words hold. The kiss you two shared reaches the front of his mind and he has a hard time hiding his excitement as he imagines what would happen if, next time, you don't stop.
Yeosang's usual calm exterior betrays a hint of excitement, a silent acknowledgment of the passionate connection that has been ignited.
Mingi's playful grin hints at his willingness to partake in such adventures. Wooyoung's creative mind is already racing with ideas of how to indulge in your fantasies. 
Jongho, although rather inexperienced himself, finds himself wanting to explore his own desires alongside you.
Seonghwa's dark gaze locks onto yours, his expression a mix of intensity and anticipation, his sultry gaze causing butterflies to rush through your stomach, his lustful look making your heart beat rise. 
In that charged moment, you were the epicentre of their desires, your words kindling a fire within each of them. It was a shared understanding that there were unexplored realms of passion waiting to be discovered, and they were eager to embark on that journey with you.
The room seemed to shrink as their longing gazes remained fixed on you, a silent invitation to explore the depths of desire and pleasure together. It was a promise of intimate moments yet to come, a tantalising glimpse into a future filled with passion and connection.
It is Yeosang’s voice who breaks the silence, although it is shaky, he holds some sort of power as he speaks, his brow raising slightly, “and what would those be?” 
Feeling awfully in control of the situation makes you feel somewhat powerful. With a cheeky grin, you raised your eyebrows in response to Yeosang's curiosity. 
"I guess you'll have to find out," you teased, your tone laced with playful mystery.
Your words hung in the air like a tantalising promise, and they didn't go unnoticed by the men around you. Arousal simmered beneath the surface, and each of them found their thoughts running wild, their desires ignited by the prospect of discovering the depths of your desires.
“Holy shit,” you hear San groan under his breath, avoiding your gaze.
With a mischievous giggle, you gracefully rise from your seat, a sense of satisfaction in the air. Playfully, you send a wink in their direction, a silent promise of more exciting moments to come. 
“I’m going to get ready for bed,” you say. With a playful skip in your step, you make your way to the confines of your bedroom, leaving the men behind, their thoughts still simmering with desire.
Disappearing into your room, you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement and anticipation. The playful banter had ignited a passionate spark among you all, and the possibilities for the future seemed endless. You knew that the intimate adventures awaiting you would be filled with desire, pleasure, and a deep connection that bound you together.
Wooyoung and Mingi quickly rush to stand, wanting to follow you into the confines of your room, to see exactly what you meant by your suggestive words. Seonghwa and Yunho shuffle in their seats, restless, also wishing to follow you to your bedroom. Yeosang, and San share a knowing glance, their faces both a deep shade of red. San chuckles to himself, clearly affected by your words, yet he finds the humour in your playful teasing, bringing a smile to his face. 
Just as Wooyoung is about to make a dash for the exit, Hongjoong's voice cuts through the air, stern and authoritative. Without even sparing a glance at the two behind him, he asks them to sit down. His commanding tone brings both Mingi and Wooyoung to an abrupt halt, and they immediately sense the underlying seriousness in Hongjoong's demand.
Once again, Hongjoong's leadership qualities are not to be underestimated, and the weight of his words hung in the air, stopping any hasty actions in their tracks. His stern demeanour makes it clear that there was something important he wishes to address, and it has the full attention of those present. Mingi and Wooyoung exchange a quick glance, silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation.
“What is it, Joong?” Seonghwa asks, his concern showing as he sees the furrowed expression on Hongjoong’s expression.
"I didn't want to bring the mood down, we should be happy right now," Hongjoong began, his voice filled with a hint of frustration. He runs a hand through his hair, a sign of his unease, before continuing, "I think Ryu knows about ___."
Mingi's reaction was immediate, and he couldn't contain his shock and anger. "What the fuck?" he exclaims, his eyebrows furrowing deeply.
The collective mood among all the men took a nosedive, plunging from happiness into a pit of uncertainty and concern.
San, always ready to protect and defend, stands up from his seat, his initial confusion giving way to anger. "What? What makes you think that?" he demands, his voice laced with frustration.
Hongjoong's revelation had thrown a dark shadow over the previously joyful atmosphere, and now, questions and fears raced through their minds. Gently Yeosang grabs San’s hand, momentarily calming his anger, although Yeosang himself feels as if he is seeing red.
“When I went to check on her, among other things, she told me the reason she was upset was because she received a message from someone.”
“What, from who?” Yeosang questions, his voice slightly sharper than usual, it does not go unnoticed by the seven around him.
“You can make a guess…” Hongjoong replies, looking down at his fingers which are picking a piece of dead skin on his nail. 
“Are you sure it is from her?” Seonghwa begins, his hand resting on Hongjoong’s hand, stopping him from the bad habit of picking skin. 
“In the message was the heart, with the eight, I’ve only ever seen her use that.”
“That’s her then.” Yunho says, his teeth gritted, looking forward to nothing in particular.
The tension in the room escalates as the seven men around Yunho struggle to process this unexpected revelation. The mere mention of Ryu's involvement casts a dark cloud over the previously uplifted atmosphere.
The unknown intentions of Ryu gnaw at their minds, leaving them feeling uneasy and apprehensive. While they had been able to protect you from Ryu's potential interference within the confines of their home, this new development has thrown a wrench into their plans. Things had suddenly become far more complicated than they had ever imagined.
Each of them wore expressions of concern, their thoughts racing as they contemplated the potential implications of Ryu's knowledge. The unspoken question hung heavily in the air: What was Ryu planning, and how would it affect you?
“Should we have waited until we knew Ryu was gone before we started our advances on ____?” Mingi questions, more to himself than to anyone else.
“It’s our relationship, another person shouldn't have a say in what we can and can't do with our girlfriend.” Jongho exclaims, his fists tightening in his lap.
"I get what you're saying, Jongho," Wooyoung exclaimed in response to Jongho's statement. He can empathise with Jongho's concerns, but he couldn't entirely agree with his viewpoint.
The situation was undeniably complex, and their protective instincts were at odds with the desire to see you happy and free from any past entanglements. It was a delicate balance they had to strike, and finding a resolution that would ensure your well-being while allowing you to pursue happiness was a challenge.
Wooyoung's voice holds a note of understanding as he continues, "But we can't just ignore this, can we? If Ryu does something, it means our guard might not be enough. We need to figure out what's going on and how it might affect ___." His concern for your safety was evident in his words, and he is determined to address the issue head-on.
Hongjoong's voice is contemplative as he speaks, his eyes reflecting his own internal analysis. "You're right," he admits, addressing the group. "We were excited when she forgave us, so we let our guard down."
The admission hung in the air, a collective acknowledgment that their happiness had, in a way, overshadowed the need for continued vigilance. It was a humbling realisation that their happiness with you had momentarily clouded their judgement.
Hongjoong continues, his tone firm and determined, "But that doesn't mean we can't rectify it. We need to be cautious, not just for our sake but for hers too. We won't let Ryu's presence threaten ___ or our relationship."
His words carry a sense of resolve, and it is clear that Hongjoong is committed to protecting you and ensuring that nothing would jeopardise the bond you had all worked so hard to rebuild.
The weight of Hongjoong's determination and leadership settles in the room, and the tension among the boys seems to ease slightly. There was a shared understanding among them that when Hongjoong took charge of a situation, there was little need to worry.
Hongjoong's ability to provide guidance and assert control over challenging circumstances is a source of comfort and reassurance for the group. His leadership has always played a crucial role in navigating the complexities of their relationships and disagreements in the past and the trust that he will ensure your safety and happiness.
In that moment, their trust in their captain’s abilities becomes a source of strength, a reminder that they are a unified front ready to face any challenges that come their way. The collective determination to protect you and preserve the chemistry you have found together was unwavering, and they knew that, under Hongjoong's guidance, they can face whatever lies ahead.
“Do you have any idea what she might want?” Yeosang asks gently after a few moments of reflective silence.
The seven men turned their collective gaze to Hongjoong, who had a deep furrow in his brow as he spoke. "She said that we are 'her boys,' not ___'s," he explains, his voice tinged with concern. He raises a hand to gently massage his temples, a sign of the weight of the situation.
Mingi's reaction is immediate and passionate. "That's insane! She was the one who hurt us. How could she possibly think that we belong to her?" His voice rises with anger and frustration.
San tries to diffuse the situation. "Calm down, Mingi. We don't want ___ to know what's happening." He emphasises the importance of keeping you in the dark for the time being.
Wooyoung, however, is torn. "That's stupid? ___ should know what's going on," he exclaims, his concern for your well-being outweighing his desire to keep you unaware of the situation.
The room is filled with conflicting emotions and opinions as they grapple with the complex web of feelings and loyalties surrounding Ryu's unexpected return and her claim over them. 
Hongjoong's voice remains steady as he reasons with the boys, his calm demeanour a contrast to the escalating tension in the room. "If the situation escalates, we will tell her," he asserts firmly, emphasising the need for caution and measured responses.
While his decision received some negative reactions from the others, Hongjoong stood his ground, resolute in his determination to prioritise your safety and well-being. He understood the gravity of the situation and believed that, for the time being, it was best to shield you from unnecessary worries. It was a difficult decision, but he believed it was the right one to make.
"Try to focus on the positives right now, boys," Hongjoong encourages, his voice carrying a note of reassurance, "___ is finally ours. Let's lighten up a little."
Hongjoong's attempt to lighten the mood doesn’t go unnoticed. He speaks with a gentle tone and tries to muster a warm smile, which some of the boys returned more easily than others. Despite the lingering concerns and unease, there is a shared understanding among them.
His words are a reminder of the joy and happiness that have come with your forgiveness and acceptance. While the challenges they face are significant, the boys share a deep sense of happiness knowing that you were officially a part of their lives.
Amidst the uncertainties, their bond with you remained a source of strength, and they are determined to cherish the positive moments and continue building a future together.
----
⇢ taglist: @lilactangerine @plutoneu @abby-grace @sunkissed725 @lixiel0ver @acciocriativity @hyukssunflower @sunukissed @khjcoo @stopeatread @meginthebuilding27 @mychickentendou @sunnyhokyu @rxnexxi @croa-yevon @arabelleum @randomness7198 @dysftopia @lucymultistan @sookacc @starillusion13 @daceydeath @theamazinggrace-000 @smilingtokki @hasgalore @pytssamworld @just-a-really-bored-kpop-fan @satsuri3su @theonesoldtoonedirection @wooya1224 @deadpoetsandhoney @skztrophy @kunhengie @tinyelfperson @l0vetiny @simplyalfie @doggopepper @seungily @dino-teezerr @silentcry329 @formulateez @senpai-of-doom @aaaaajonghooooo @ijwsbdinp ​@liniiiaa @channiespup @heyitstacy @eightmakesonebraincell @araknoid @lilbugs-things
im sorry to say but the taglist is closed from now onwards.
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Text
Rightfully His ❙ TP Optimus Prime x f!human reader ❙ NSFW 18+
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Word count: 2500+
Warnings: Smut ( Fingering and spike penatration ) low angst, possessive behaviour, jealous behaviour, size difference and robot x human. NSFW 18+.
Notes: You people are sluts for dom Optimus, and I don't blame any of you. He a snack! Um, so, here you go you filthy animals.🥰
Also to add, Optimus Prime is using mass-displacement, though he's still large, if you get what I mean. I didn't want this to be a repeat from the first one I did so that's why I went with this approach.
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A day at the beach sounded perfect. Optimus was kind enough to drive you there himself. You enjoy spending time with him. Though once there he would need to remain in his vehicle mode while you take a dip.
Wearing your favourite bathing suit you take a dive and enjoy yourself, waving at Optimus with a beaming smile which everyone will see as you waving at a truck. Not weird at all.
While you were enjoying yourself a few guys approached you. They introduced themselves as you did too, making small talk. They were nice, and the casual talk turns into flirting, and you can't help but beam in return with a flushed face.
It's not often guys flirt with you so it was kind of nice to have it happen, though you weren't really looking for any kind of relationship at the moment. You already had your eyes on someone but you doubted they felt the same back, so you didn't hold your breath about it.
For now you enjoy the attention from these guys.
Not aware, Optimus watches. Being in his vehicle mode you couldn't tell he was glaring hard at the guys, wanting nothing more than to scoop you up and hide you from their prying eyes.
What bothers him more is that you're enjoying the attention.
It's not until afterwards that you finally leave the beach and jog towards Optimus' truck form. He stares at your breasts under the bikini bouncing with each move and that makes him groan lowly.
"That was just what I needed. Thanks Optimus, it was really nice of you to drive me." You say happily as I put the towel on the leather seat and sat on it so you don't get too wet or sand everywhere.
This was a last night thing so you didn't bring any spare clothes.
"So, you had fun?" Optimus asks through a hint of dullness, which you didn't pick up on right away.
"So much fun!" You continue to beam softly before relaxing against the seat. "So, my place? Wouldn't want you returning to base at a late hour."
"Of course." Optimus can only sigh before leaving the beach with the sunset setting across the long strip of road. The drive is perhaps an hour from your place, so you get comfortable.
Optimus watches you as he drives, stretched out on the seat wearing only your bikini, skin damp as the setting sun glitters across you. He notices your perky nipples through your thin top. He lets out a low groan, forcing himself to rev his engine to try and hide it, which doesn't work as you pick up on this.
"Are you alright?" You question curiously.
"I'm fine." His answer was dull and that's when you start noticing his odd behaviour.
"You don't sound fine." You point out, more curious as you sit up more against the seat. "What's wrong?"
Optimus knew he wasn't able to hide it anymore, not after so long. "Those men from the beach, they seemed very friendly with you."
"Oh those guys? Yeah I guess they were. It's nice to be noticed honestly." You can't help but giggle lightly.
"You liked the attention they gave you." He adds and that's when you furrow your brows. He goes on before you can answer. "You were friendly back, smiling, blushing. Do you often flirt with other men like that?" Now this is weird to you.
"Um...I don't know, I guess? It's not everyday I have guys flirting with me. Why does that bother you?" You can't help but cross your arms.
It was quiet for a moment before he finally answered. "I don't want you flirting with other men, or accepting such behaviour from them towards you." He can't be serious?
You can't help but let out a scoff. "Seriously? Optimus, it's harmless flirting. Besides, why do you care? It's not like we're dating." You answer through an annoyed pout.
It's Optimus. He's the one you've got your eyes on. From the moment you both first met you've been overly fascinated by him, and you're already friendly with him, taking any chance to spend time with the big bot. But you were both completely different and you don't think he felt the same way towards you, so you never advanced to push your friendship any further.
However, now it seems things are getting on thin ice.
"Jesus Christ, you sound so jealous. No, you don't get to be jealous, alright? If I'm going to flirt with guys then I'm going to flirt!" You are honestly annoyed. How dare he!
"No." His simple answer doesn't settle well with you.
"No?"
"No. You won't. That's an order." This is getting out of hand.
"An order? No, you don't get to order me around! We're not dating!" You had to repeat again.
"Are you refusing to follow my order?" You have no idea what's wrong with him, or why he is behaving like this. Surely he doesn't have feelings for you?
"Yes...I'm disobeying your order, Optimus Prime! Fuck you!" You lose your temper as you shout, feeling both angry and emotional.
Suddenly the seat belt tightens around your body and pins you against the leather seat causing the air in your to be pushed out.
"Optimus?" You can't help but whisper his name, staring at the dashboard as if that's where he is staring at you from while he drives.
"I'm taking you back to base." He simply answers, tone casual and dark at once.
Swallowing thickly you try to adjust yourself but he made it hard with just how tight the seat belt was on you and he wasn't going to loosen his hold on you.
"N-no, I said take me home." You remind him but he refuses.
"No. You need to be taught a lesson, and reminded." This get's your heart racing. What is he talking about?
"Lesson? Reminded? Of what?" You can't help but question.
"That you're mine."
His? What the hell is he saying?
You couldn't move and you heart rate wouldn't slow down. Optimus has never spoken to you like this before and that kind of scared you. He is acting possessive, as if you really did belong to him but you didn't. Right?
The rest of the drive was dead quiet. You can't bring yourself to say anything or even struggle, and your heart rate never once slowed down.
Once returning no one else was around you figured this out. Optimus transformed with you still inside him which he's never done before. It makes you yelp in surprise before oyu find yourself in his servo.
He doesn't look down at you as he walks into his quarters and over to his berth where he finally places you. Stepping back he stares, watching you. You are still damp from the beach and in your bikini you can only sit there and stare back, breathing heavily, wondering just what he is thinking.
Finally he moves towards you. He sat on the berth right beside you making your breath hitch, before something happened you didn't think possible. His large frame starts shifting, shrinking himself until he is at her level.
The sudden action leaves you speechless, unable to form words as you stare at him. He still has that firm stare on him and you go to say something but he cuts you off.
"Remember, you're here so I can remind you who you belong to." Your response is to give a nervous nod, but you can't help the thrill that burns through your core.
"Optimus, you sound upset?" You manage to say through a shaky breath. "Have I hurt you?"
"You have." His answer is not what you expect. "For a long time I've admired you, wanted you, but I saw you felt something towards me but I feared I might've been wrong. Seeing you with those humans, that bothered me. I don't want you doing that anymore."
"Anymore? So...what does this mean? What am I to you?"
"You're mine. That's what."
Suddenly he leans closer and you find yourself laying back on the berth where he had laid a blanket for you. He's hovering across your shivering body, his shadow consuming you.
"What are you doing?" You whisper through a heated gasp. Your body was reacting in a whole different way, one that is arousal.
"What I've wanted to do for a long time." Suddenly, he kisses you.
You can only let out a muffled yelp against his lips, which are oddly enough soft and warm. You respond through a low throaty moan, hand sliding up against his cheek plating as you savour his lips. You've imagined this for so long but never thought it would be this beautiful to feel the primes lips against your own.
Optimus responds back through a deep moan himself before gently pushing his glossa inside your mouth making you gasp and return the same with your own tongue. Both your hands were against him, caressing his face and slowly deepening the kiss more.
You love him. That's right. As silly as it might sound, you have been deeply in love with Optimus for a long while. But now, he was your obsession, an addiction you craved. All this time he wanted you and you had no idea. He was good at hiding it. Not anymore.
His servos move across your body, dancing over your quivering skin before feeling his digits tug at your bikini bottoms, the lace flying loose as he tosses them aside. Next is your top and that is gone pretty quickly with some help from you.
Bare naked, you wrap your arms around his neck and move your thighs up over his hips, grinding yourself against his plating which causes him to moan back in approval.
You need him, you want him, you ache for him.
"Optimus..." His name whispers from your lips as his mouth moves to your neck where he gently nips against your tender skin. "Feels so good."
"I only want you to feel good, and to know only I can ever do this to you." He says softly before moving his servo down to your core where he rubs his digit between your folds before gently pushing one inside your depths.
The sudden feel of his thick digit makes your back arch and he doesn't stop there, pushing further and curling into your clenching walls.
You respond perfectly, hips arching up and grabbing hold onto his shoulder pads, moaning loudly without any care who might hear you, and it didn't seem to bother Optimus either.
"I want everyone to know you belong to me, y/n." He says once again, as if you had forgotten. His digit pumps into you before he adds a second, stretching you so nicely. "I want you to be mine. Do you want me to be yours?"
"Yes!" You answer with glee and without doubt. "You, I want you!"
Optimus smiles hearing this. "Good."
He removes his digits from you and you grab hold of his servo, bringing it back up and sucking at his moist digits, letting out a low moan as you taste yourself.
Optimus lets out a low growl of approval as his vents kick in, metal heating up as his throbbing cable presses against his panel, demanding to be released.
You feel him rutting gently against your bare core, moaning loudly as your swollen clit grind against his plating. You needed him inside you, now!
"Optimus," you whisper his name into his audio before finishing, "Fuck me."
Any self control was gone.
You hear the sound of metal shifting, Optimus as well, before suddenly feeling the warm tarped tip of his cable pressing against your core and moving within, not holding back as he fills you completely, flushing his hips against you firmly.
The sudden fullness feeling his throbbing spike invade you is an experience you only ever imagined, and it's nothing compared to the real thing. He fills you so much, to the point you hiss through a moan and move your hand to your belly where you feel the tightness, only to gasp when you feel a bulge caused by Optimus.
"So full..." You moan out. "Feels good."
"Y/n." Optimus whispers your name as his optics flash through the arousal he was feeling building through him.
"Please move, I need to feel you fuck me, please." You plead while you caress his face under your hands, biting your lips as you clench around his more get him going.
Optimus does as you want, or what he wants, whichever it is. He rolls his hips back before driving forward again, pushing more deep beautiful moans from your plump lips.
His pace doesn't flatter as you wrap you legs tightly around his rocking hips, tugging him against you more as you hands grip into whatever armour plating you can get your hands on.
You feel every ridge of his throbbing spike brush along your inner walls, the tip pressing up against your belly, bobbing with each thrust Optimus gives you.
All you can do is pant and hold on, embracing your desires and what you've dreamed of now finally coming true. If only you knew he could change his size, perhaps you might've said something sooner about your strong feelings towards him and avoided the fight you two had.
It doesn't matter. The past is the past, and this is now, moving forward.
Optimus lets out long groans as he fills you over again before adjusting himself a little, and gaining a better angle before his movements become more firm and short.
The sound of his soft metal slapping against your damp skin filling both your ears and his audios added to the growing pleasure between you both.
One servo grips into your hip as he sets a more firmer pace, grunting out as you clench more around him, making it very difficult for him to hold himself from finishing so soon.
But you want it, to feel his fluids fill you deeply right now. You'll have other opportunities to explore and experience another time. This won't be the only time that you know.
"Please, Optimus, I want you to fill me so badly! Don't hold back, please. Just let me feel it all, please! I'm yours! Only yours!" You can't help but chant over again through your arousal as you feel yourself already nearing your orgasim.
Through your chanting Optimus lifts your hips up and ruts against your core, speed strong as his vents kick in and throat moans grow more furiously.
You let out a half broken sobbed cry of bliss as you suddenly feel your orgasim crush through you, and Optimus at the same time let out a strong burst of energy as he fills you deeply with his fluids, belly full of his spike and the warm liquid he spills within.
Holding on you relish every second, body shaking through the after shocks of your orgasim before eventually he slowly pulls out from you, feeling so empty now as some of his fluids follow behind.
In your orgasim daze you didn't realise that Optimus had turned back to his normal size self and held you close in his warm servo.
As you lay in his servo you curl your body around his digit before he brings you closer to his face where he gives you a soft nuzzle making you smile and hum in return.
Even after being in control and possessive over you, he also has some loving aftercare for you in store. He cares about you deeply, you know this, and you care about him.
"You'll always be mine. Understood?" Optimus says tenderly and you can only nod softly, having no complaints about that.
"Always. Does this mean we're dating?"
"How about I take you on a date?" The offer makes your belly fill with warmth.
"I would love that."
"Then we're dating." He confirms proudly.
You are rightfully his.
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dhorrl · 6 months
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NNN-Katsuki Bakugo
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Katsuki/Reader
Content/Trigger warnings: Edging, fingering, oral, cursing, NNN
Enjoy the fic? I made a bot to go with it!
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17 days… he had made it 17 days without touching or even so much as looking at you in any sort of sexual way, though that was slowly becoming more and more difficult.
That's how you ended up here, sprawled beneath him on the couch, still fully clothed, though his hands gradually made their way under everything, fingers splayed out over every inch of your skin. You had tried and failed to push him off you as he ripped off your most innocent pair of pajamas, a baggy and overworn pair of Dynamight-themed pants that you deliberately put on to dress more modestly.
"I'm not gonna cum, just wanna touch on you. Maybe, put the tip in… I promise I'm not gonna cum." His voice was ragged, trembling with barely contained desire. He was already aware of the consequences of his actions but couldn't help himself.
"Kats… we both know it won't just be the tip, and we both know you'll cum. Come on, babe, do you really wanna lose this challenge to Denki? That pervert is still going strong!" You knew the only way to attempt to reign him in at this point was to attack his ego, his need to be the best at everything.
Katsuki grumbled, a fresh wave of determination washing over him; there was no way he would lose to that dunce face. However, that didn't stop him from leaning forward and capturing your lips with his own, growling into them.
"Fuck, babe… why do you have to be so irresistible?" His cock strained against his boxers as he tried to push away the urge to sink into you, reminding himself again of this damned challenge.
"Fine! I won't fuck you, at least not tonight," he smirked, his red eyes burning into your own. "Just let me touch you." His hand slipped back under your shirt; his release might be off the table, but there was nothing in the rules about pleasuring you.
You covered your face, stifling the moan that slipped from your lips. You had been abstaining as well in support of Katsuki, but his hands always worked magic against your skin. He pushed your shirt up over your bare chest, latching onto your nipple, swirling his tongue aggressively while his free hand pinched the other, trying to pull more of those delicious sounds from your lips.
Katsuki was thoroughly enjoying the torture he was putting you through despite his own hunger for attention. Hearing your moans did things to him, brought out those inherent primitive desires that he'd be more than keen to act on any other month. Suddenly, Katsuki had an idea, one that could potentially help him get through the rest of this hellish month or be his complete undoing.
"How 'bout this... I'll get you off as many times as you want, and in return, I get to feel your mouth on me?" He proposed, his voice husky as the image of you taking him into your mouth flashed in his mind. "It doesn't count if I don't cum, right?"
You let out an almost pained shudder, mouth watering at the thought. "Fine… if you wanna edge the fuck out of yourself, then it's your fucking funeral."
"Deal." With an animalistic growl, he pulled your panties down, his gaze falling on the glistening pool of arousal coating your cunt, fluttering around nothing as you felt his hands sliding up your thighs.
He was so fucking hard it hurt, his cock begging for release - a release that he knew he couldn't afford. Once he felt you relax into his touch, he slid two of his fingers inside you, enjoying the wet sloshing sounds your pussy made around his fingers.
"Fuck, babe. You’re so fucking wet." His voice was low and husky, trying to keep his breathing under control. A groan escaped his lips as he felt you clench around his fingers - he really was teetering on the edge, but he was determined. His thumb started rubbing against your clit, his rough thumb flicking over the sensitivity bud.
"Fuck... you're gonna cum for me, aren't you babe?" You were panting under him, legs shaking violently as he pushed you over the edge. Your hand reached down to grab his wrist, fucking yourself against it as you came undone, screaming his name.
“Kat-su-ki!” Your eyes rolled back as the mind-numbing orgasm hit you hard and fast.
"Fuck, baby... you look so fucking hot when you cum," he growled, pressing a sloppy kiss to your neck.
He continued to thrust his fingers in and out, relishing the wet squelching noises around them. Those sounds, along with the sight of you squirming beneath him, were enough to drive any man insane, and Katsuki was already teetering on the edge. But he had to hold out. He had to finish this thing, no matter what.
Once he was sure you had come down from your high, he withdrew his fingers, bringing them up to his lips to taste. The taste of your arousal was nothing short of intoxicating, quickly replaced by the feeling of emptiness as he realized he couldn't have you the way he wanted. With shaking hands, he unbuckled his pants, his massive length thudding against his stomach. "Your turn, babe, now get to fucking work."
You grinned sadistically as you switched positions, pushing him onto his back. You had never seen him this hard, cock like solid steel. Your lips eagerly descended on him, taking him to the hilt, tongue swirling around to suck down all of the endless amounts of pre-cum dripping down.
His groan echoed through the room, hands instinctively entwining in your hair as he gripped it firmly. Every nerve in his body was on fire as you took him in, your warm mouth enveloping him, causing him to buck up involuntarily.
"Shit, babe…" His hips twitched, desperate to thrust in time with your motions, but he refrained. His hands were twitching, every instinct in his body screaming at him to shove deeper into your welcoming mouth, take what was rightfully his, and paint the back of your throat with his seed. Despite the heavenly feeling, Katsuki was teetering on the edge of an explosion he couldn't afford.
The sight of you between his thighs, his length disappearing into your mouth and then reappearing, slick and glistening, was enough to drive him crazy. He was pulsating, so close to the edge. He had never felt anything this intense; the feeling of your warm lips enveloping his cock, not to mention the torturous pleasure of being so close to climax without the release, was a new experience to him, and he had to admit he was enjoying it – at least a part of him.
"Fuck..." Barely able to keep his self-control, Katsuki tightened his grip on your hair and pulled you away with a groan. "Stop... I'm gonna fucking...ugh...."
You grinned, dragging your lips off his shaft with a satisfying pop, chin dripping with saliva. "Alright, babe, you got what you wanted, right up to the edge. Since when are you such a masochist?"
"No fucking comment, princess," Katsuki grumbled, a blush creeping onto his face. Pulling you against him, he shoved his tongue in your mouth to claim the lingering taste of himself. On any other day, Katsuki would have flipped you onto your back and fucked you into the cushions, giving you both the release he so desperately craved. But for now, he'll have to bide his time and bite his tongue.
He huffed, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he stared at you with wild eyes, his chest rising and falling with every shaky breath he took. His was still hard as a rock, but the moment had passed, and he somehow managed to retain control. He reached down, adjusting his painful cock into his pants. "I'm going to take a cold shower; I fucking need one now."
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helaelaemond · 7 months
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Teach Me Your Touch - Michael Gavey x Reader
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HELAELAEMOND’S KINKTOBER
thank you @arcielee for the banner!
Pairing:  Michael Gavey x f!reader
Word count: 3k
Summary: You missed a lecture and have your classmate Michael Gavey share his notes and help you catch up. He's not good at teaching, and he makes you feel stupid. He makes you feel bad. When you cry, he wants to fuck you all better.
Content warning(s): light elements of bullying (prior to smut), feelings of intellectual inferiority
KINK CATEGORIES: public sex, crying, inexperience/loss of virginity (male), fingering (female receiving)
Rating: E
Tagging those who showed interest: @llemes @assortedseaglass @sapphire-writes @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @humanpurposes @underjeno @st-eve-barnes @arcielee @babyblue711
Michael's voice is snappy. "Are you listening to me?"
You look up at him in defeat. "Yes, I'm trying! But I don't-"
"I can't make it any clearer!"
You lean forward on the table and rest your head in your hands. "You're making me feel stupid."
He huffs. "Maybe you are."
Arsehole. Why did you even ask him for his help? You know he's a dickhead, but he's also smart. Last semester, you worked on a group project with him and although he was terrible working with other people, his understanding of the subject was unmatched. He's like a walking calculator, for God's sake, and that intellect seems to apply to every module.
Besides, last time, he had a mean streak, but he also seemed to soften with you. You're not exactly a bombshell, but you're still a woman, and he's a lonely man. You were kind to him last time you worked together, and it made him kinder, too.
Whatever rapport once existed between you, though, seems to have faded. Now, you're sat on the second floor of Radcliffe library under the tall arched ceilings at 2am. No one else is around to see your shame, thankfully.
It's been a long time since you've felt simple. You shouldn't feel stupid - you're on the same course as him! You only missed one lecture! It shouldn't be this hard!
"You're not making it easy to understand," you mumble.
"What?" he asks, irritated.
You lift your head and look at him, eyes red. "My mind doesn't work as quick as yours. I need you to explain it differently."
He blinks at you from behind his thick glasses, and you watch as he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing above his buttoned collar. "Right. Fine. You did the reading, and you understand that a tangled hierarchy is a hierarchical consciousness system in which a strange loop appears. Right?"
Clenching your jaw, you nod. "That much I understand, Michael. I'm not as simple as you think."
"I don't think you're simple. I think you're acting simple."
It's too late and you're too tired. Hot tears spill down your cheeks. "You're acting mean."
"What?" He has the audacity to look shocked. "I'm helping!"
"No, you're not." You stand up and shove your notes into your rucksack hastily, along with your pens and library copy of the required reading. "You've spent the last three hours making me feel stupid and small and unintelligent, and you've enjoyed every second."
"No!" he protests angrily. "Don't tell me how I feel!"
"Alright! Well, that's how you've made me feel! And that's not fair! God, I really thought-" You cut yourself off and take a deep breath. But you're still crying, and it's embarrassing, and you furiously wipe away your tears. They're quickly replaced.
Michael stands up and follows you as you stalk off down the rows and rows of bookcases. He calls your name, but you ignore him. It's loathsome how hearing him say it gives you butterflies. "Will you just wait?" he shouts.
You whirl around to face him, making your rucksack fall off your shoulder and onto the floor. The noise echoes in the cavernous library, and you're suddenly very aware of how empty it is of other people. It didn't bother you before. It doesn't exactly bother you now, either, but... but there's something intense about the way he looks at you. It's angry, it's apprehensive, it's... it makes your skin crawl.
"What is it, Michael?" you ask. You're caught somewhere between anger and weariness.
"It's not my fault you feel stupid," he says defiantly.
"For the love of-"
"Because you're not stupid. You're just acting it. Like I said."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
He swallows. "Yes. You're not as smart as me. But that doesn't mean you're stupid."
You laugh dryly. "I don't know why I was ever nice to you. You have no interest in being nice to me."
Again, confusion flickers over his face. "I agreed to help you, didn't I? that's nice!"
"I think you only agreed to it so you could make me feel like dirt." You pick up your bag again and continue your way to the stairs that will take you down to the main entrance. You're still crying. He's absolutely shattered you tonight, and it's not fair.
Suddenly, there's a hand around your wrist, and it stops you in your tracks. It becomes abundantly clear that Michael Gavey is far stronger than he looks. You're left breathless when, out of nowhere, he pulls you between tall bookcases. He towers over you. You've always noticed how tall he is. Despite his somewhat bookish appearance, there's something about him that has always been nice to look at. Perhaps it's his thick hair, or his sharp jaw, or his pretty blue eyes. Something about him, despite his nasty streak, makes you wish he approved of you.
"Stop crying."
You sniff and look up at him in shame. "I'm trying."
"Try harder."
That makes your face crumple again. "Leave me alone."
"I want to help."
"Let me go."
"You're kind to me," he says, his voice suddenly quieter. When he says your name, it cracks. "I'm trying to make you feel better."
"It's not working."
"Teach me," he whispers. The intensity with which he is now looking at you in almost too much.
"Say something nice about me."
"Oh. Um." His hand loosens slightly on your wrist. You're all too aware of how clammy it is against your skin. You don't care. Any touch from him is, unfortunately, welcome. "Your work on our projective geometry project was good."
"I know it was."
"Alright." He licks his lips. His eyes dart to yours. "You're... good at explaining things in different ways. I'm not."
You sniff, and look down at your feet. His body is close to yours, and your gaze catches something in his trousers. Perhaps his zipper is caught on something. Or perhaps... perhaps...
Your heart races.
"Why did you agree to help me?" you ask, eyes still downcast.
"You asked."
"Why?"
"I..."
"Tell me the truth, Michael."
"Um."
It's so late, and you're so tired. The uncertainty makes the tears fall again. Your head hurts so much. "I'm going."
Michael cries out your name throatily. In a heartbeat, he grasps your shoulders and pushes you against the bookcase, and then his tall, lean body is pressed against yours and his clammy hands find their place on your neck. "Don't cry," he tells you. His face comes closer to yours. His glasses begin to steam up.
"You've done this to me."
"I want to make you feel better. But..."
"But?"
"But you're so pretty when you cry."
And then he kisses you.
It is messy, wet, and needy. He doesn't hesitate to push his tongue against yours, and his glasses press against your face. It should make you squirm away. But it makes you whimper quietly. Your bag drops to the floor, and your hands fly to his narrow hips. You open your mouth wide against his desperately, your teeth clinking against his, and he mirrors you until your lips, your cheeks, your nose, are wet with his spit.
He doesn't know what he's doing. You hardly do, either. And it's so fucking good.
"Michael," you whisper between hard and deep kisses.
He groans your name. "I've thought about this since we first met."
"You thought about me?"
He nods, before burying his face in your throat. His greedy mouth kisses up and down before they settle where your neck and shoulder meet, and he sucks. At his hips, your hands ball into fists around his belt. The carabiner he wears on it with a collection of USBs knocks against your fingers and you tug on it.
You want to fuck him.
"Yeah," he murmurs against your skin. "Think about you in lectures. What I wanna do to you."
To you. Not with you. God, that should make you want to leave. Instead, you resolve to stay.
"Yeah?" you ask breathlessly. "Show me."
"Okay."
Nervous sweat dampens his forehead, but you don't care. You feel it when he presses it against yours and palms you over your jacket. Your soft bra is padded, and you can hardly feel his touch. It's driving you mad. In frustration, you unbutton your shirt quickly and look up at him. "Touch me. Please, Michael, please-"
He breathes loudly through his mouth. His lips are wet with sailva; he's practically drooling. He hesitates.
"Have you been with a woman before?" you ask, chest heaving with need.
His grits his teeth, anger flashing across his face at the question, the mere insinuation that this is his first time. You take that as a no.
So it's your turn to teach him. But just from his desperate kisses, you're almost blind with desire, and there's not much patience left in you. So you pull your breast free from its cup, and press on the back of his head. He's so fucking tall. "Kiss me here," you whine softly. "Suck my nipple."
He is a better pupil than tutor. Perhaps, if you were less aroused, you would tell him to be gentler. But as it is, his eagerness is rough and hard and just what you need. The sharp pull of his mouth sends electricity through you, from your head to your toes, and you arch up against him.
"Your hand," you tell him. "Down my trousers. You thought about that, right?"
Against your breast, he nods. He bites your nipple, and you dig your teeth into your lip to keep quiet. It's the middle of the night, but anyone could walk in.
He fumbles with your button and zipper, and then his hand is down the front of your jeans and you spread your legs. He palms you hard, and instinctively, you grind against the touch.
"Let me show you something." Your breathing is laboured already, just like his. He releases your breast from his mouth and meets your gaze with pupils blown wide. You feel your heartbeat under his hand.
You wriggle your jeans down to your knees and then push down your underwear too, enough that you can spread your legs and cover his hand with yours. You guide his long fingers against your cunt, and it takes no time at all to show him how hot and swollen your clit is.
"Like that," you whisper as you press his digits into a firm and fast pace.
"God," he whimpers. "You're so... you're wet."
You nod. "Yeah. Means I want you."
Without needing to be guided this time, his touch strays down, and he presses his middle finger through your folds. When he finds your entrace and slips inside, he moans so loudly that you have to clamp your hand over his mouth.
His eyes are wide and pleading with you. He watches your face so closely as he pushes a second finger inside of you, and he kisses and sucks at your palm against his mouth.
"That's good," you tell him quietly, nodding your head. "Rub circles around my clit with your thumb. Oh, God, yeah, like that. That's good, Michael. Oh, God, don't stop."
When your hand against his mouth goes slack, he takes the opportunity to kiss you again. He shoves his tongue back into your mouth and it's so messy, so needy so erotic, that you have to quickly push his hand away depsite your previous order.
"What?" he asks, suddenly panicked. "What did I do wrong?"
"Nothing," you gasp. "Gonna make me come already."
His cheeks flush a deep red. "Really?"
He grins lopsidedly, and you whine, "want you inside."
Gulping, and with shaking hands, he unbuckles his belt and the clink of metal seems to echo loudly in the cavernous hall. He shuffles his trousers down his hips, mirroring you, and you look down to see how his hard cock strains against the soft briefs he wears. God, there shouldn't be anything sexy about the y-fronts he's sporting, but you can see the thick outline of him, his heavy balls, and its maddening.
Neither of you care that you're in public now. He pushes his underwear down, too, and when you whisper for him to lift you up, he does it with surprising easy. You kick your trousers and underwear off, spread your legs for him, and grasp the bookshelves at your back for support. His arms are hooked under your thighs and he watches with glasses slipping down his nose as his cock lines up against you.
Instinct takes over. He shoves his cock through your folds, back and forth, coating himself with your arousal, and he presses over your clit with his tip time and time again.
He moans your name too loudly.
"Shh," you soothe, as if you're not fighting with all of your strength to stay quiet. "God, that feels good."
"Inside?" he asks, unable to take his eyes off his cock on your cunt.
"If you want."
"I do." He meets your gaze. There's a vulnerability in him that you haven't seen before. And then you clench, and he feels your muscles tighten, and desire wins out. After a moment of slipping through you, he presses his blunt head against you, and pushes into you in one, swift movement.
The speed takes you by surprise. He's bigger than the vibrator you've been satisfied with lately, but that's alright. You're wet and throbbing, relaxed enough to take him. But it's still a stretch, albeit a blissful one. It's a stretch that borders the line between sweet and stinging, and tears prick your eyes. Good tears, this time.
"Okay?" he asks, voice cracking.
They drip down your cheeks but you smile, biting your lip, and nod. "Yeah. Hard. Go hard, Michael. Need- God, need you!"
And he does as you tell him. "Think about you," he grunts as he thrusts hard and fast. He's on the tip of his toes, knees bent, as he sets a brutal pace that has your body aflame. "All the... fuck, all the time. Oh! Oh!"
You clamp your hand back over his mouth to stifle his moans, and they dissolve into whimpers that match his hard, laboured breaths. They come through his nose and make the skin of your hand prickle. Michael grips your hips hard enough to bruise and it's so good, it's so fucking good. He wants you, he needs you. That's why he agreed to help you. That's why he accepted your kindness.
He likes you. Buried six inches deep in you, you realise this. It makes you bury your face into his neck, and you bite his earlobe. He whimpers in response. "Shh," you soothe.
"Close," he groans against your hand.
"Me too," you breathe. The coil in your stomach is tightening. The tension in your thighs spreads up your back, between your shoulders, and all the way down to your toes. As you wrap your legs around his slim waist, you wonder, in the back of your mind, if the shoes you still wear will leave a mark on his shirt.
"Oh, fuck, fuck, so good, fuck-!" He comes suddenly, buried deep inside you, and you feel him spurt inside of you. But it doesn't matter, you're so undone it doesn't matter, it doesn't fucking matter-!
He whines your name and presses his groin tight against your as his orgasm stutters over him. Dropping his head on your shoulder, he pants, and whispers your name.
"Michael," you protest quietly. "Plase, I'm not there, I'm-"
You rock your hips against him needily. As if it is the easiest thing in the world, he sets you down and pulls out, and immediately replaces his cock with his hand. Just as you showed him before, he buries his fingers back in your pussy and circles your clit with his thumb, and you appreciate it, you do, but it's not enough, it's not enough-
"Oh, God," you groan softly. "Like this."
You're trembling close and youre's so needy, and you grab his hand and press all fingers against your mound, showing him to press as hard and fast as he can. It hurts in the best way, and his hand is almost a blur, and he studies your face with an open mouth as your expression crinkles, tightens, your jaw slack and eyes scrunched closed.
The orgasm he gives you explodes through your body and you white out, knees giving way and balancing falling through. With his hand still firm against your cunt, he catches you and holds you steady, and you clutch against him blindly for balance. "I've got you," he grunts. "Easy."
But there's pride in his voice. He keeps his hand against you even after your orgasm has washed over you. Your flesh there twitches, hot and swollen, and his fingers gently press in different places to learn about you. Whatever information he gathers makes him smile.
After a long moment, enough strength returns to you that you can stand steadily again. "God, that was..."
"Acceptable?" he asks hopefully.
You're bending down to pull your underwear and trousers back on, and you glance up, trying not to grin. "It was good."
He smiles slightly and nods, looking away as if deep in thought. "Alright, that's good, then. Next time, should I wait for you to... to finish first?"
"Next time?" you ask with a quiet laugh. Standing upright, you do your trousers back up and he does the same, the USB still swinging from his belt.
"We have to do this again." Michael says it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. And then, he brings the hand up covered in your wetness, and he licks his fingers clean. His eyes close in bliss. "You taste so sweet."
Biting the inside of your cheek, you smile even wider. "You don't have to do that."
Swallowing, he murmurs your name and smiles. It's the most genuine smile you've seen him wear. "Oh, I do. You know me. Always had a sweet tooth."
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