#third floor apartment and walking to work and etc etc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tenderlyrenjun · 11 months

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. AGE MUST BE VISIBLE TO INTERACT.

summary: jisung and the reader get a third (jeno) before talking about their feelings

includes ... threesome (obviously), oral sex (m + f receiving), excessive use of pet names, double vaginal penetration, spanking, hair pulling, slight possessiveness, squirting (f), referenced over-sensitivity, fwb jisung, fwb jeno, etc.

word count: > 12k (lol)

minors + empty/inactive blogs do not interact. age must be visible.

minors get blocked AND REPORTED.

Jisung rarely shows up to your apartment unannounced. It happened maybe once or twice in the past, but usually, he schedules his booty calls, as to not throw you off and to keep his calendar organized. He even spent the last hour, in his car at the gym, debating over his messages - whether to actually text you or to just go through your most recent video; working out always makes him a hundred times hornier than normal.

When he finally gets to your apartment, on the third floor, you serendipitously open the door, before he has a chance to knock, wearing an unfamiliar oversized Demon Slayer t-shirt and sweatpants.

Jisung frowns.

He didn’t know you watched anime without him. It’s supposed to be your thing, the thing he shares with you. Just last week, you watched Suzume together, him leaning on your shoulder while you stole popcorn out of his lap.

“Oh.” You put a small trash bag behind the doorframe and draw your hands behind your back, pushing forward the design on your shirt. “Ji, what - what are you doing here?”

Jisung pushes your door open wider and steps one foot inside your apartment. Instantly, he grabs your upper arms, holding you still. You comply, pupils darting across his face, shoulders slumping into his hands.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he says, huskily, confidently. Then, he does it. He tilts you backward, down the entryway, and kisses you.

You falter a little bit, tripping on your heels, even though he moves slowly, muscles still controlled by his workout adrenaline. But you don’t stop him. So, he keeps going. Jisung walks you toward the wall, hands trickling down your sides to protect you from the furniture into which he accidentally bumps, and the media chest rocks on its legs.

“Ji,” you mumble.

He hums back (what?), licking the seam between your lips more broken.

“Jisung,” you repeat a little firmer, although still lax, barely gasping more air.

He doesn’t stop. Jisung moves down your jaw, to let you breathe again, tilting your chin up with his thumb for better access.

“Sung, I have company.”

“Don’t care.”

“Jisung,” you gasp, half-moaning, when he licks at your collarbone and mills a thigh between your legs. You shudder, entire body draping across his torso. And he thinks tonight will be easy or quick to make you cum, if you’re already so sensitive. “Jisung, I -”

“Jisung?”

A deep voice breaks him off you, and he sighs, head dropping to your shoulder. He lingers in the light citrus scent, both familiar and not. When he turns his head to your bedroom, Jisung’s jaw falls free:

“Jeno?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Me?” Jisung points at himself, eyebrows furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

“Wait.” You put a hand on Jisung’s chest, patting your fingers between his pecs. Both boys look at you, but it does something to Jisung’s heart, that you only look at him. He waits for you to continue, as does Jeno, probably, and slips his hands more chastely down your sides. You lick your lips tentatively, darting your eyes at Jisung, breath breaking before you say, “You two know each other?”

“He’s my roommate,” Jisung tells you, nodding. He rubs his thumb into your hip bone reassuringly, subconsciously nudging you deeper into his chest. You follow him, moving both your legs between his now.

“Roommate,” Jeno scoffs.

And Jisung looks up to find him with his arms crossed over his bare chest, pants hanging below the waistband of his Calvin Kleins. Oh, you do have … company.

“We’ve been friends for over nine years,” Jeno reminds him. He tilts his head to the side, frowning. “Are you two …?”

“Are you?” Jisung challenges. He wraps an arm down your waist, partially hiding you behind him, with him, in his jacket. It’s not the first time Jisung has fought with Jeno, a side effect of that nine year - bordering 10 years - friendship, but this feels extremely one-sided, the more Jeno keeps his composure.

You groan, burying your face in Jisung’s arms, hugging him tightly, apologetically. “I told you that I have company over,” you whisper, lips virtually pecking the folds of his jacket. He brushes away a few strands of hair from your face, and his fingers linger on your warming cheeks. “This is so embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not,” Jisung assuages, rubbing your sides.

Except, it is.

Embarrassing.

He feels embarrassed. You’re sleeping with one of his best friends. And he came over unannounced during said slumber party. And he engages in a one-sided argument with that best friend, over you.

“We’re not exclusive,” he reasons, as if that makes things better.

His fault, too, by the way, his brain reminds him. He told you that he wanted no strings attached, that he didn’t want a serious label. He even slept with other people! Well, not recently, but still, he cannot expect the same level of exclusivity from you when he has said nothing thus far.

Jisung turns to Jeno, who just stares at the both of you, now leaning on the hallway door frame.

“Neither are we, by the way,” Jeno says casually. He scrunches his nose.

“Cool.” Jisung nods shortly, dissipating the edge in his voice.

“Yeah, cool …” Jeno nods too, an eyebrow raised, and Jisung slowly turns back to you, stroking the longest parts of your hair. “So, are you here for …?”

“Are you?” Jisung bites, automatically.

Then, he winces.

He needs to let it go.

Like, yeah, obviously, Jeno is here sleeping with you, though neither of them articulate it. Why else would Jeno walk around your apartment shirtless?

Jisung bends his neck down and catches another glimpse of your anime shirt. Oh. It’s not unfamiliar; it’s just unfamiliar on you.

“I’ll go,” he says, starting to pull away, but you slip your arms around his waist, shifting your face into his chest.

“‘M sorry, Ji,” you mumble in his neck, leaning as tall as you can on your toes. Jisung can feel your breath under his jugular.

In the past, when you did this, you always dropped back into your heels and stammered something about trying to whisper a secret before complaining that he is too tall. Now, though, Jisung catches you, keeping you tighter against his chest just a second longer until he has to leave … to give you … and Jeno privacy.

“We can talk about it later?”

Your entire body freezes, breath stopping in your throat, then you nod.

“Yeah, ye - yeah, okay.”

You pull away even quicker, retreating to Jeno, who gives you both curious looks. The way you answer him makes Jisung swallow a thousand times, forcing his mouth slightly open in case he ends up word-vomiting it all back up. And he wants to say goodbye, properly, but you have company, as you told him, tried to warn him. So, Jisung takes an imperceptible step backwards, on his heels, closer to the door.

He watches Jeno open an arm for you to slide underneath, and you comply.

“I mean,” Jeno starts, and the both of you divert your attentions to his face, though he mostly looks at Jisung. “You don’t have to go.” Jeno clears his throat, massaging his larynx. Jisung shifts his weight to the tips of his toes, and you angle your neck just right at Jeno. “You could … stay.”

You grab his hand, threading your fingers through his. “Jeno,” you whisper, “I’m here with you.”

Everyone ignores the obvious that this is your apartment. If you wanted to kick either of them out, they would have to comply.

“No, I mean,” Jeno coughs, “Jisung could stay,” he tells you, eyebrows raising. Jisung cannot discern what that means, and he wants, so desperately, to be let into your bubble. “With us, he could stay.” Jeno turns to Jisung. “If you want.”

“You mean …” like join you?

“If you want.”

Jisung looks at you, and you bury your face in Jeno’s shoulder, covering your eyes with his arm. He knows that he got here too late, that he got here after Jeno, so he would feel even worse, kicking him out, especially if you just slept with him. Jisung bites his lip and shakes his bangs in front of his hair, which makes it look like he said no.

“I … I …” he pants, eyes darting between Jeno and you, lingering a little bit longer on you. “Can I join?” He swallows, taking a small step forward. “Please?”

Jisung kisses you first, but Jeno kisses you harder.

Jeno grabs you by the neck, his fingers sliding behind your nape, tearing you away from Jisung, physically taking all your breath across the half-tousled bed, another reminder that you slept with his best friend. “Mine,” he whispers.

And Jisung sighs, his hands falling to your hips. His thumbs crawl up your waist, pushing back Jeno’s t-shirt. “This is counterintuitive,” he mumbles, bitter taste leaving his lips. “It wasn’t even my suggestion.”

“N-no,” you stutter, agreeing with him. You pull off Jeno and slip back into Jisung’s lap, above his grey sweatpants. He repositions you into straddling his lap, your hands falling high on his shoulders, but you slide them back down, kneading the muscles. You also lean into his collar, pressing a compliant kiss there, and Jisung almost monopolizes you again. “You hate sharing,” you point out, drawing little zig zags under his jacket. And Jisung smiles. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this then,” you sigh, “if you’re both going to be so …”

“So what?” Jeno scoots closer to you two, nearly sandwiching you and kissing Jisung himself.

“So possessive.”

Jisung looks at Jeno, and Jeno stares back. Possessive is not a word that he would use to describe himself, to be honest. Jeno, yeah, a little … or a lot. It’s just that he has never done this before. There are so many logistics, and he wants you to be the most relaxed person here, since you will have to overcompensate for two people. Jisung feels you wrap your fingers around his wrist, gently circling your nail into the bone.

“Are you changing your mind?” he asks, eyes fluttering down.

You shake your head. “No, I - I want this, I promise.” You glance at Jeno briefly, over Jisung’s bicep, then back at Jisung. Your fingers stop tapping his skin, and he frowns. “I-if you still want this, I still want it, too.”

“I want it,” Jeno mumbles, stealing you into the pillows at the opposite end of the bed with him, your legs now tangled together. “I want you,” he mumbles, a hand cupping your face. His palm brings your lips even further away from Jisung, and Jisung looks away, twiddling his long, idle fingers.

Sometime between your kisses, your hands crawl into Jisung’s. He fumbles forward, chasing you before Jeno can pull you away again, and kisses your heartline, temporarily opening your palms, cupping his face. Jisung starts moving down your wrist, sucking where your blood thumps the hardest. He slowly flies higher and higher, brushing his lip low up your shoulders. You shudder, sliding into his arms.

“How are we going to do this?” Jisung whispers in your ear, before clearing his throat (or so he tells himself; it sounds like another groan). You just give him a blank look, pulling off Jeno only slightly, barely enough to blink at his face. Jisung pecks you reassuringly, bottom lip catching between your teeth, before he laughs and looks up at Jeno mouthing along the outer silhouette of your boobs.

To be honest, Jisung has a small idea of what he wants. He’s had it since he drove to your apartment, beelining past his own place: he wants to fuck you - which seems difficult, right now, as he tries to adjust for another person, for one of his best friends. Jeno finally meets his eye, and Jisung’s question reflects across his pupils, almost begging Jeno to say something, too. He doesn’t want to be the person who rushes the moment too fast.

“I don’t know,” Jeno rasps, also clearing his throat. He massages your waist, and Jisung looks down at you. Somewhere in the tangles, you tensed. And he didn’t notice. Neither of them noticed, really. But he didn’t notice, and he notices this, too.

A beat passes, temporarily fracturing the tension.

Then, another one, as Jisung and Jeno stare at each other, wordlessly coming up with a plan. Jeno dips his gaze at you, Jisung following, and you squirm again, bedsheets knotting your hair. You swallow thickly, once you see that their stares don’t waver.

“We can take it step-by-step,” Jisung says, more confidently than any of you feel. And eventually, met by little resistance, he resumes kissing your neck, turning you back into him.

Things pick back up pretty quickly; quicker than Jisung anticipated.

You react near immediate, straddling Jisung into the mattress, and Jeno helps you topple him, hands on your ass. Jisung, by contrast with his assurance, easily starts feeling overwhelmed. So many fingers keep brushing his body, despite him still wearing all his clothes - a simple hoodie and sweatpants, really, which makes him heat up effortlessly, too. You stare at Jisung for a second, slowly teetering on your knees, then kiss him, breathlessly, in the same way he entered your apartment.

And you, he thinks, look so pretty like this, kneeling above him, cradling his face, like you want to take care of him. Jisung crawls up the bed, on his elbows, until he leans fully against the headrest. Jeno moves, too, finding more purchase on your ass. And they kinda look like they just switched places, like they’re taking turns. But he is unwilling, right now, to relinquish your focus, so Jisung bypasses your hands, folding your neck backwards. Smoothly, he copies your position. His long fingers dip behind your ears, and he exhales sharply over your cheeks, restarting kisses every couple of seconds.

If one lasts too long, you might decide that his turn is over, so he presses his lips against yours in rapid succession, like he found a cheat code.

“Jisung,” you moan, even though he barely does anything. It makes him a bit curious, as to what Jeno is doing, especially since you start kneeling higher (not that it does much to his position, because his torso is so much taller than you).

“Hi,” he mumbles back, simply, cheekily, smirking, after you say nothing. He likes how you say his name. “Feel good, baby?” he asks, and your lips hum in return, closing off his tongue, making him smile wider.

Then, you start pulling away, slowing down your kisses into brief pecks. His tongue trails after you, hooking under your top lip to keep you here, with him.

Don’t go, he implies, tangling the tips of his fingers in the roots of your hair. Jisung slips his tongue even further inside your mouth, practically tying you to him. His hand falls down your curves and grabs the first thing he can, which is, incidentally, Jeno’s wrist. He doesn’t let go, though. Jisung actually holds on, squeezes, a minute longer, until you draw back completely. He stares at you, wide-eyed, through his lashes and licks his lips. Jeno, in front of him, behind you, watches, equally frozen as you wrap your fingers into Jisung’s palm.

You sit on your heels, retreating even more, sinking your ass into Jeno. “You’re not being fair, Ji,” you whisper, peeling him finger-by-finger. He watches you drop into Jeno’s waiting arms and mumble something to him too - something Jisung can’t hear. And he frowns.

Jeno laughs. “Relax, princess.” He smiles at you innocently. “We’ve got you.”

You whisper something else, again, exclusive just to Jeno, and Jisung frowns deeper. Jisung pulls his sleeve into his left palm, scratching the hem so tightly that he hears the microfibers break (not really; the sounds of you whimpering for Jeno envelope his ears). Jeno laughs again, his shoulders rising, and you bring him back down to your lips.

Jisung crawls up your lap while you continue making out with Jeno, whose hands support your boobs above his Demon Slayer shirt, keeping you locked on him. You whimper something incoherent, and Jisung follows you with his eyes, his ears, his body. Through his lashes, he bitterly watches Jeno swallow your tongue, flicking it inside his mouth. You turn your head to the side, hand falling onto Jeno’s waist, your leg brushing his dick, obviously, by the way Jeno twitches in his pants.

And Jisung frowns. Again. Jisung flips you on your stomach and smirks, lopsidedly, when you yelp, which makes Jeno yelp because you bite his lip. He created a small domino effect.

“You’re not being fair, baby,” Jisung mumbles, sliding up the black t-shirt, pressing vibrating kisses down your abdomen. His fingers accidentally graze Jeno’s thumb, and both boys tighten their grasps on you, jostling you closer between them.

“Ugh,” you groan throatily. And Jisung takes the momentary lapse to climb up your torso, indirectly driving your ass into Jeno’s dick. “It’s h-hard,” you stutter, “balancing you both. I don’t know who to pay attention to.”

“Oh, princess,” Jeno calls softly, running the back of his hand down your cheek. Jisung feels compelled to look away, and he focuses on the waistband of your sweatpants. They are your sweatpants, he concludes. You spilled gochujang on the floor and your knees while making tteokbokki, that one time he visited you before work; you both decided, then, to not cook anymore. Jeno gives you another kiss, presumably, by the way silence seeps back into the bedroom. “Just pay attention to how you feel. You’ll feel so good,” he promises.

At that, Jisung drops down your thighs and folds your waistband lower. Instinctively, you lift your hips, giving him permission to take them off - which he does. Just the sweatpants. He stares at your underwear: a light coverage thong. The wide back string disappears between your ass. He slips one finger through both leg holes, briefly tugging the entire thing up. And you whine. You squirm into Jeno, grabbing his shoulder, gripping him tightly. Jisung pulls again, then slides his fingers down your panties, freeing your pussy completely. His knuckles skim your labia, and he feels you drool into his palm.

“Last chance, baby,” Jisung says loudly, one a few inches from your cunt. “One word, and I stop.”

You give him two: “Don’t stop.”

Jisung pushes your thighs more open, hooking them over Jeno’s legs. And Jeno, attached to your back, helps him, holding one of your knees firmly, his other hand closing under your chin, fisting your neck. Jisung pants on your pussy, his tongue flopping outside his mouth, drooling saliva onto your fluttering hole, too dazed in his admiration to taste you just yet. You should be used to this treatment - the way he makes you wait, makes you want him more, because he does it on purpose; he tells you that he does it on purpose because he likes your full attention. Jisung wetly kisses your inner thigh, where some of your pussy drool sticks. You kept squeezing your legs together and, now, you keep rocking up Jeno’s hard-on, spreading the dampness.

“Jisung,” you choke on Jeno’s lips, syllables chopped as you fight another moan to beg. He slurps your labia, kneading apart your ass cheeks. You paw his hair, fingers petting his scalp as you struggle to grasp him. Jeno drops his hands on your hips, massaging your sides. Eventually, he pulls his shirt up, exposing your tits. Jisung feels you tremble when Jeno pinches your nipples, and he licks your pussy harder. “Jeno,” you moan, rolling your hips. Your clit finds Jisung’s pretty nose, and he tilts his head to the side, spitting more saliva in your hole.

“Pretty girl,” Jisung mumbles. He kisses your pussy, then laps his tongue inside, rolling it into a little cup that can hold your clit, flicking the tip from behind. “Greedy girl.” Jisung sucks one last time before he stands up. And you whine, instantly grabbing him by the hair, weakly guiding him back to your legs. “Baby, I’m so hot -”

“Yeah,” you agree, moaning. Jisung watches Jeno’s fingers slowly replace him, touching just outside your pussy. You mewl, so high-pitched, and turn into him.

“Are you going to let me leave a mark, princess?” Jeno asks, your mouths breathing on each other. Jisung can hear the way his breath hitches, and he works faster to take off his clothes. “Hmm?” Jeno nurses your neck, behind your ear. “Gonna look so pretty covered in me?” He slowly straddles you, kissing you impatiently. “Princess, answer me,” Jeno mumbles, “Otherwise, I’ll stop.”

“No,” you sob, in protest, not an answer, Jisung assumes, as you claw Jeno’s bare shoulder. “You - you can leave a mark.”

Jisung pauses, at the foot of your bed, where he stands, hoodie in hand, shirtless. He meets your eye, over Jeno’s shoulder, the latter caging you, as disproportionately naked as him, to the bed. You gulp, blinking away from Jisung. He tilts his head to see you better, scanning your face. You always let him mark you. He’s left tiny hickeys and bruises along your collarbone, thighs, hips, any place, really, that you would let him. Granted, they’re superficial, but still, Jisung frowns, you let him mark you all the time. He tucks his own hair behind his ear, puffing his cheeks before he joins you again.

Jisung’s knee dips into the bed, as you and Jeno brush each other’s hair away from your faces, smiling at each other. Intimate. Jisung looks at his giant hands. Sex is intimate. Obviously. He knows. You may not be his first (or last; he slept with Yooyeon a couple weeks ago), but Jisung knows how intimate sex is. This moment, though, between you and Jeno keeps his attention on the ground. He doesn’t want to be the first person to strip completely naked. It would accelerate the mood, would insert him in your moment. and he’s not sure whether you want that. Even though he wants things to move along. He wants to touch you, too, again. Things go faster when he has you alone; mostly because he has to leave almost just as quickly. Not always, but most of the time.

He wonders if this is how you and Jeno set your pace, or if he is just the outlier.

“S-sung,” you hiccup, cutting him off before he gets too far in his head. You took off your shirt, too, while he wasn’t looking. Your free hand slides down the bedsheets, fumbling through the folds for him, while your other hand holds Jeno steady at bay. And automatically, Jisung threads his fingers into yours, pressing a kiss where your thumbs meet. “You’re so far away,” you whisper, tugging him into the mix. “Come here.”

Jisung falls next to your sides and kisses the skin under your boobs. He slips his hand between you and Jeno, gently repositioning you in the middle. It breaks you two apart (you and Jeno), and you both stare up at him, again, as if he knows what to do, just because he said to take this step-by-step.

And maybe he does.

“Can you start taking us, baby?” Jisung whispers, softly, voice small. He pulls down your lip with his thumb, and before he can take it back, you swallow it, nodding down to his web.

“Ye-yeah.”

“Princess?” Jeno asks between a kiss, his eyes closed. “Do you think you can take two cocks in your mouth?”

Jisung snaps his neck up, but Jeno just stares at you intently. He … His dick twitches. Jisung didn’t think beyond the logistics, to be honest. He knew that you would work overtime, to accommodate him and Jeno, that your holes would be filled at any given time, but both of them? Simultaneously? Jisung had to train your esophagus, for weeks, just to take half his cock, then another couple sleepovers to take the rest. Nevermind actual penetration, which seemed to take longer, your pussy suffocating the both of you.

“Jen, I don’t think -”

“I can do it,” you interrupt, shaking your head. Both boys widen their eyes, and you sit up, rubbing their arms. You give Jisung a longer squeeze, convincing him that you’ll be okay, then push them both on their backs. Jeno crashes into the mattress first, fast, but Jisung … He falls slower, walking on his elbows to read your body language. You wobble tall, on your knees, and your hands shake a little, so Jisung holds one - the one on his chest. He rubs tiny circles into the back of your hand, just staring at you, making sure you know that he notices you. “I can do it,” you reassure Jisung.

And Jeno briefly looks at him too, when you go to untie their pants. “This’ll make it easier, la-later,” he explains, “when we both - fuck - fuck her - Mmmh.”

You push your fingers into Jeno’s mouth, restraining his tongue. Then, you nod at Jisung, direct with eye contact, and they realize that he mouthed ‘quiet’. Inversely, Jeno hollows his cheeks around your hand, trapping your fingers when you try to pull away. You scrunch your nose at him and push him harder into the mattress.

It’s impossible, Jisung thinks, not to catch Jeno’s dick, even out the corner of his eye. He might even believe that his body has a built-in echolocation with the way you slobber down Jeno’s dick first. You barely managed to get their pants off, discarding them over the edge of your bed (Jisung didn’t even realize when you finished undressing them) before you grease Jeno’s dick with your saliva and dry rub Jisung. He feels you work him slowly, slower than you move on Jeno, maybe even gentler. Any thoughts he had about yours and Jeno’s pace goes in one ear, out the other, and he almost recants it completely. You might just be slower with him, because he’s fast to get you naked.

You pull off of Jeno, with a hoarse groan, mouth open. Your lips glisten under the ceiling light, too, swollen. And Jeno is first to compliment you. Jisung thinks he sounds so far away, even though their elbows nearly touch. Your index finger ruffles Jisung’s slit, tracing the outline with the pad of your finger. His hole twitches, and the entire length throbs, then you swallow him, only partially, choking a little less than halfway down. You offset the rest of his cock by playing with his balls, fondling them like large Baoding balls.

“H-how are you going to take us both, baby?” Jisung stutters, half-still apprehensive. “You can’t even take me all the way.”

“‘M cam doom it,” you mumble, indignantly, almost telling him to stop doubting you. “‘M wamt to doom mit so bad.”

Jisung just thinks you look cute like this: small and defiant, mouth wide and throat destroyed, squeezing your legs together and milling your own clit between your thighs.

And he wants to ruin you.

You take Jeno’s cock first, sucking tightly on just the tip. And Jeno groans, throwing his head into the blankets with an audible thud. He screws his eyes tight, fists accidentally bumping into Jisung’s hip. It takes Jisung less than a second to realize that Jeno is trying not to face fuck you, which is honestly more control than he would have in the same position - which is also saying something because his entire body currently burns.

You stick to three easy moves: head bobbing up and down; tongue keeping the tip inside your mouth; wrists jerking back and forth. And Jisung knows them all so well. Jisung has cum from them all, on multiple occasions. Jisung could cum again, right now, from all of them.

You pull off Jeno, slowly, sizing up his penis with slightly narrowed eyes. Jisung almost asks again, this time more concerned, if you’re sure, before you bump their dicks, together, on your lips, trailing their precum across the vermillion. You feed them into your mouth, just the tips, stretching out the corners. Jisung feels the veins in Jeno’s cock graze his own tip, as you shake your head down both of them. You unintentionally swallow more of Jeno, nearly pushing Jisung out of your mouth, but you slowly push him back in, and they both groan again.

“Careful, princess,” Jeno grunts, when your teeth graze their dicks. You purr, obediently, and Jisung feels your tongue soothe the lines in their cocks. “Fuck, shit, yeah, like that.”

Jisung bites his lip, turning it white. His fingers itch to touch you, and he almost reaches forward, but Jeno, by his side, keeps fisting the blankets, so he keeps his hands to himself, letting you jerk them off. Your mouth squeezes their dicks together. You try to keep them separate, even licking a gap between their tips, but Jeno thrusts forward, bulging your cheeks with both of them. Jisung wipes a tear from the corner of your eye and cradles your face as you noisily swallow more, choking once they hit your breaking point. You continue gagging on their tips, barely a quarter of their cocks (more of Jeno’s) filling your mouth, before you take them out, holding them in one hand. Your fingers don’t close properly, like an adjustable bracelet, or cock ring if Jisung were luckier. Jeno’s dick rests higher than Jisung’s, looking half an inch longer, and you realign them more equally, their tips stacked Jisung on top of Jeno. You stroke them, tightly, together, and Jisung could cum like this, with both loads pointing to your face, Jeno’s cock throbbing above his.

But Jeno stops you.

And Jisung whines, like a kicked puppy, his pouty eyes fluttering to him.

“I want to cum inside you,” Jeno clarifies, staring at you.

It makes Jisung question Jeno’s refractory period, then he considers that this might just be awkward for all of you, more than anyone is revealing, or this might be Jeno’s way of taking it easy on you - Jisung can’t decide. He does remember liking the prospect of Jeno’s initial proposition though: the both of them fucking you. And he decides to prep you. But the moment Jisung splits your legs open, tired of you squeezing your thighs together emptily, without them, you start rutting your cunt over his fingers, piercing whines ascending.

“Jisung,” you cry, voice cracking in the middle. “Jisung, please, gimme.” He almost laughs. Cute. You roll your hips in wide circles, trying to slip his fingers past your pussy lips - a tactic you have used on him recently. Just the other day, actually, when he had to answer some texts from his friends on their discord server. He should have been paying attention to you, honestly, hence why he went over, not to completely ignore you in your own bed. So, now, he lets your pussy swallow two of his long fingers (his middle and ring fingers), but he pulls his palm down, not letting you cum so fast. A little bit of payback, even though Jeno stopped the double blow job.

You turn your face into the pillow and fist the meat of it, suppressing even more of your whines. The bed dips in front of you, and you screw your ass into the mattress.

“Jeno?” You look up at him. And Jisung flings his eyes with you, mouth a hair away from your cunt. “Jeno?” you ask again, as if he would give you the relief. Your tongue pokes above your bottom lip as you pant, entirely breathless, your forehead sweating.

But Jisung draws your attention, curling his long fingers. They bend awkwardly, knuckles pointed in opposite directions, and you arch your back off the bed. “Can you cum like this, baby?” Jisung asks, mostly curious, half-teasingly.

You stare at him wide-eyed, biting your lip nervously, then shake your head. No.

Jeno pulls one of your legs to the side, lifting in the air to cut off the friction that Jisung gives you. He sucks a tiny, little circle behind your knee, and you whine again. And Jisung groans. Your thighs felt so good around his ears, goading him further into your pussy. He dives even deeper, adding his lips on your clit. Jisung pushes the pads of his fingers downward, completely twisting his wrist 180-degrees. Then, he takes away his fingers and suckles your clit, his jaw moving obnoxiously wide to devour your pussy whole.

“Can you try, princess?” Jeno mumbles into your flesh, nipping around the skin. “You’re doing so well, right now. I’m so fucking hard.” He puts your leg back down and slips his cock in the crevice behind your knee, now soaked with his saliva and your pre-cum. Jisung, too, is equally hard, if not harder, as he languidly jerks off, pointing his slick cock in your blankets. “Can you cum like this?”

“No,” you object, though Jisung feels otherwise. “I wan - I want to cum on your cocks.”

Cocks.

Plural.

Jisung sucks harder, accidentally, choking on his own gasp, and you shriek, cumming all over his lips.

“Fu - ah - ck,” you shriek, breaking the single syllable in half.

Jisung keeps going, cleaning your pussy. It clenches around his tongue, and you have to yank his hair, pulling him on your stomach, to stop him. He gives you another kiss, around your belly button, praising your body for cumming so well.

“She’s a liar, Ji,” Jeno grunts, pushing his cock all the way through your knee.

“Mmhmm,” Jisung agrees, feeding his dick into your loose hand. “Begged for two cocks in her mouth, then came with an empty hole.”

“Is that it? Hm?” Jeno replaces Jisung between your legs, circling the tip of his cock around your entrance. Jisung looks down at your glistening folds, pulsing around nothing. So, this is how your pussy looks, he thinks, when you beg him fuck you. It’s so wet and sticky, and your labia flanks outward, exposing your swollen clit like a diamond setting. “You don’t need to be filled, princess? Is that it?”

You lift your hips up, in the same manner that you took Jisung’s fingers, and slip Jeno’s cock inside your pussy, a little more than halfway. “Ah, Jeno, no, please, please,” you whine. Jisung would cave, almost caves. And he thrusts even faster in your hand. “I want you so bad.” You prop yourself on your elbows, incidentally squeezing the middle of Jisung’s dick, which makes him groan. “I want you both so bad.”

“Fuck.” Jeno puts a hand on your stomach and fills you in one thrust. “You always clench my cock so nicely.”

“God,” Jisung groans, copying Jeno’s hips. “I need to be inside you, soon, baby.” He screws his eyes shut tightly, willing himself not to cum, because he could. He could cum like this. He actually could have cum at any point today, so far, if you and Jeno would let him, but also, “I want you, too, baby. I want you.”

Jisung opens his eyes, instantly, when you squeak, and finds you already staring at him. “You … you can …” You bite your lip, and Jeno stops thrusting, slowing down; he also grabs your boobs to still the moment.

“Go ahead, baby,” Jisung encourages you, breath winded, voice hoarse.

“You can both fuck me,” you whisper, then bat your lashes, innocently toward Jisung. "At the same time, please?"

Jeno squeezes your ass. “Mm, you liked having two cocks in your mouth that much?” He groans, and Jisung looks at where Jeno buries himself inside you. “Fuck, you’re clenching so much.”

“You need to be filled, huh?” Jisung licks his lips. He watches Jeno lift your ass up, arching your lower back, adjusting his entire cock inside your pussy. You almost look like the videos he takes of you sitting on his cock. “Turn her around, Jen.” He wants to see you, but more importantly, he wants to prep you.

Jeno obeys (after three more quick thrusts) and slides his dick into your pussy from behind, the shaft skimming the curves of your ass. He lays on his back, taking you with him, and Jisung spreads your legs, again hooking them over Jeno’s before descending on your heavenly pussy again.

“Won’t take too long,” Jisung promises, even though he flicks your clit with his tongue. It tempts him to lie. But then, he catches a small taste of Jeno’s dick and readjusts taller. He would rather not get hit in the chin by Jeno's balls.

“S-sensitive,” you squeal, the moment Jisung’s lips retouch your pussy. He retracts a second, mouth parted, but you dissolve into staccato moans as Jeno steadily fucks you slower. “Mmhmm,” you answer nothing, “Feels so good.”

Jisung goes back to your pussy and sucks your clit on time, hard, cheeks hollowed, as Jeno carries your legs in the air, his entire cock fed to the base inside your hole. You whimper again, thighs shaking, knees twitching toward Jisung’s ears. And Jisung pushes his fingers in your cunt, three at once. His knuckles hit your labia, grazing beside Jeno’s dick, almost slipping out again, but your hole squeezes the both of them, forcing Jisung’s palm up, his three long digits curling into the tight space. And, shit, you’re still throbbing. Jeno is throbbing. Jisung looks at his own cock, flopping between his legs, aching, and he humps the air.

He is so hot, so warm right now, that if anyone touched his dick, he would cum on the spot.

“Jisung, I -” you choke, letting him know what he found. Incidentally, he pushed his fingers all the way inside your cunt, pressing the pads of his fingers down. He can feel Jeno’s cock skid on his knuckles, and he has to inhale deeper.

“Hnn, princess,” Jeno heaves, tightening his hands on your legs, lifting you higher. You instinctively grab Jisung with your feet, keeping some attachment to the ground. “It’s my cock. Inside you. Say my name too.”

“Jeno,” you moan.

And Jisung feels your cunt suck him closer, which pulls him toward your clit again. He sucks it, of course. His mouth pushes apart your lips, making your clit stand out, and Jisung closes around it, tongue flicking the hard underside.

“Jeno, Jeno,” you chant as both boys fill you to the brim.

Jisung hunches over your pussy, adding more pressure on your stomach, essentially driving Jeno’s cock even further up your cervix.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you whine, voice breaking higher and higher. You start shaking your head and biting your lip. “Jisung, fu- shit.” You close your eyes, fisting the sheets. “Jisung, I’m ready, you can - shit, shit -“ Your boobs bounce widely. “You can fuck me now, too.”

Jisung kisses your pussy one more time, and Jeno graduates down to a pause. They glance at each other a second, before Jisung grabs his dick, stroking it a few times with your pussy drool. Yeah, they’re really going to do this. No going back. Jisung slides the tip of his dick above Jeno’s, pushing through the initial resistance. All three of you moan, and Jisung has to anchor himself on your waist, panting a few times before continuing. He feeds a full inch inside your pussy, then another, and another. When he gets a third of the way inside, his dick bends under Jeno’s. Neither of them realize it until their cocks curve into each other like pretzels.

“Oh, fuck, there - you - it’s so much,” you babble, biting back high pitched squeaks. “You’re so big,” you say to no one in particular. Jisung knows they’re both above average.

“God,” Jeno is the first to say after your pussy gets filled completely.

Jisung stumbles on the last thrust, accidentally pulling out an inch, dragging Jeno with him, before he shoves them both back inside you. The double helix makes it hard for any of you to move, minus the rapid twitching from your hips.

Every time Jeno pulls out, he has to slam back up, balls slapping, just to bottom out again. He ends up catching your ass, spreading both cheeks for a wider hole. And every time Jisung starts thrusting, he can’t commit to one fluid movement, stuttering between two pairs of legs. He pushes one of your thighs into your chest, biting light kisses around your ankle like little charms.

You clench around them, and Jisung spanks you.

“Don’t clench, baby,” he whimpers. “I want to fuck you for a long time.”

You try to release, wiggling your ass down Jeno’s abs, and Jeno moans. Jeno brushes your hair off your shoulder, biting rough kisses around your carotid. Jisung feels their tips bump each other, your cervix nearly tying them together. He keeps thrusting, tracing the outline of Jeno’s dick into your pussy walls. Jisung grunts and plants his arms around you and Jeno, snapping his hips deeper.

“Fuck, Jisung,” Jeno moans, “When did you get so good at this?”

Jisung doesn’t really have an answer - that he wants to share. He just knows how to please you. Well, he knows how to please a lot of different people, but he keeps that to himself. Neither you nor Jeno need to hear all the ways he practices his techniques. You, though, are his favorite guinea pig, for the obvious reasons.

“You both just feel so good,” Jisung praises.

And much to his surprise, Jeno whimpers. Jeno bites his lip and digs his fingers into your waist, lifting you easily, like a simple fleshlight. You yelp, with the first thrust, then relax into his neck, moaning hotly.

“‘M gonna cum,” Jeno breathes, open mouthed, driving his head into the pillows for better leverage. He roots his feet in the mattress and lifts his hips, trying to match Jisung. “Just like that,” he moans, “Yeah, eung, hnn, so c-close.” Jeno thrusts faster and faster, getting faster than Jisung, who sticks with long, sharp movements to keep both cocks buried inside your pussy.

“Je-Jen, S-sung,” you gargle, twisting and turning.

Jisung pins you onto Jeno, crunching over you. He smashes his lips onto yours, feeling you and Jeno get closer and closer to your orgasms. Your pussy squeezes and squeezes without relief; Jeno starts shaking, slowing down his thrusts, which has Jisung overcompensating for the lapse (so that he can cum too; there is something so intimate about everyone cumming together, and he doesn’t know if he can handle being left out, especially by you).

Jisung kisses you again. He feels Jeno’s cock swell through the base, but Jisung kisses you again. You reciprocate, as much as you can, given that two boys fill your pussy to the brim, moments after your first orgasm, after edging you for half an hour, and Jisung accepts every bit. He savors it.

Jeno cums first, then you, a millisecond after, as if triggered by it. And the way you pant into his mouth, breathless, choking on your own moan, has Jisung grunting quickly to join you. He kitten licks a small part of your tongue back into your mouth, then slams your lips together, nearly bruising himself on your teeth as his orgasm rushes full force. Jisung didn’t even realize it had been building, too enraptured by the taste of your kiss. But his abdomen tightened and his hips popped, and he feels himself slowly release all the tension in each muscle. His sore cock splatters all over your cunt, the tip bouncing on Jeno’s dick.

Jisung pecks you once, twice, chastely, incessantly, thrice. You mumble an mmm, smothered by his repetitive embraces, and he lifts your chin, too, for easier access, with his index finger and thumb.

“You did so good, baby,” Jisung whispers, his lips resonating. “So good.” He blinks at you, brushing away your hair. “So pretty.” Then, he gets up. But you stop him, a hand on his strong bicep, and he laughs. “Someone needs to clean you two,” he nags lightly. And Jisung usually works through his exhaustion anyways. He goes to sleep at 1 or 3 AM, eventually waking up a few hours later for his early schedules. Plus, you and Jeno look like you could collapse. This … activity might not have been his idea, but he still feels inclined to repay you both for letting him into your intimate moment.

Jisung grabs both his and Jeno’s cocks in one hand, enveloping their dwindling shafts easily. He accidentally jerks them off, and Jeno grunts - to which he apologizes repeatedly. Cum follows them, mixed together in one giant puddle, absolutely drooling down your gaping hole. Cautiously, Jisung bows his head, between yours and Jeno’s legs, pushing all four a little bit wider. He uses Jeno’s dick - just the tip - to catch some cum, wiping it away and licks the excess. Both of you whine. Jisung apologizes, quietly, but still his two fingers push the cum back inside you. He feels your pussy squeeze around him again, and he feels the pool of cum just resting in your throbbing cervix.

Jisung licks his fingers clean a moment after, not completely ready for another round, then tugs on his pants and goes into the hallway bathroom. He blinks, rapidly, after he flicks on the lights, and examines himself in the mirror.

You left a few marks, as you usually do, but it reminds him that Jeno asked for permission to mark you. And Jisung frowns. He stopped asking around the fifth consecutive day that you slept together. Maybe he should start asking again, he thinks while running a washcloth under the tap. Jisung catches himself in the mirror again, then, without turning off the water just yet, he touches the bruises and scratches adorning his clavicle. One of them resembles a cloud. He thought of you, the other day, when he saw one, but just like a cloud, the thought passed after Renjun messaged their discord server.

“Okay, this isn’t too hot, but -” Jisung walks back to your room, but he stops outside the door frame and hides behind it.

“You did so good, baby,” Jeno commends lazily, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. While Jisung was gone, you shifted into Jeno’s arms, burying your face in his chest too. “Baby?” Jisung frowns. He calls you ‘baby’. Jeno calls you ‘princess’. Or, at least, that was the unspoken agreement today, especially since Jisung claimed it first. Jisung strains his ears as Jeno hums; you must have said something, incoherently.

“I asked -” You lift your head, enunciating more clearly, though your voice sounds hoarse. “- if you’re going to leave, too." Your voice get clearer, "Jen?"

Jisung frowns. He also used that nickname with Jeno. It makes him wonder if you interchangeably used nicknames between the two of them, or anyone else with whom you sleep. Not that Jisung can complain.

“What? No, of course not, princess.”

When silence permeates the room again, Jisung walks inside. Jeno catches him first and presses a single finger to his lips. Shh. He pulls back your hair, showing off your closed eyes and steady breathing, and Jisung nods. You fell asleep. Jeno looks two steps away from falling asleep, too. Jisung sucks in a breath, then wipes down your thighs. He innocently kisses the spot around your knee, no intention behind it, and slips a shirt onto you, briefly taking you away from Jeno for a second. You stir, making him cradle you a second. He waits for you to slip back deeper into sleep and traces little circles in your arms, then hands you off to Jeno.

Jisung ignores Jeno’s curious stare and retreats into the kitchen, making sure to grab his hoodie and phone on his way out.

“Hey, so - Relax. It’s just me.”

Jisung jumps, drawing a ceramic cup toward his chest to avoid dropping it in your kitchen … again. He broke one, the first time he slept over at your apartment, after accidentally bumping his hip on the island. You cleaned it up for him that time, but he made a point to never do it again by getting to know your kitchen - hence why he uses the ceramic cups, not the slippery glass ones. Jisung turns around slowly, also careful not to spill water on the tile.

Jeno stands behind him. “Do you like her?”

Jisung’s tongue rolls down his jaw, head pausing on half a nod. But he stops. He stops to scan Jeno’s expression.

“Why are you asking?” he counters tentatively, loudly enunciating each syllable. He puts the cup on the counter and crosses his arms over his hoodie, forearms exposed ever since he rolled up his sleeves. The vulnerability from the last few hours wore off when he left the bed, and he desperately needed a cover after seeing Jeno tuck you in the duvet.

Jeno shrugs. “It seemed like you did.” Do. “Back there.”

Jisung licks the seam between his lips, drawing a quick breath. “Do you?”

“Eh, not really.” Jeno moves around the cabinets. He goes to the bottom drawer, the one with the Tupperware, then closes it and opens another. Jisung watches him rifle through a few more cabinets before finding the honey butter chips you keep on a shelf under the island. Jeno stares at Jisung a hard second, fingers peeling the bag open, before he retracts, “Not like that.” Jeno opens the bag and eats a fist full of chips. “We just sleep together occasionally.”

Yeah, but … Jisung puffs his cheeks and brushes his hair through the middle. What does ‘occasionally’ even mean? “I’ve never heard you call anyone ‘princess’ before,” he mumbles, suddenly searching for his water.

It’s right next to him.

“I’ve never heard you call anyone ‘baby’ before,” Jeno mocks, muffled by a chip - which is a lie by the way. Jisung frequently uses the term of endearment with anyone he wants on his arm. And Jeno has seen it, or been the victim of it. Plus, “baby” is arguably the most common nickname between couples. Not that you and he are a couple; you’re not exclusive. He said that earlier.

Jisung frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure about what? That I’ve never heard you call anyone ‘baby’?” Jeno wipes his hand on his pants and folds the bag closed. “No, I think you called that bartender ‘baby’ a couple weeks ago when we went out for Haechan’s birthday.” Right, and Jisung left your apartment early that day, too.

“N …” Are you sure you don’t like her? Jisung stops himself, again. He’s not sure whether or not he can handle the answer. “Then why do you think I like her? Because of a nickname?”

“No, Jisung,” Jeno sighs, brushing his hair away from his forehead. His defined biceps flex along with his pecs, and Jisung tugs on his own sleeves, covering his palms. “That was you. I was just teasing.” Jeno purses his lips, scanning Jisung.

“Then what?”

Jisung leans on the tops of his toes, a quiet fist resting on the counter. He always wears his heart on his sleeve, wiping away every emotion off his face, because he never actually says it out loud. He doesn’t even think he’s mentioned you to his friends, not even to Renjun, the one who helps him organize his thoughts the most. Jisung keeps his sex life relatively private from everyone, much to their annoyance as they swap sex stories on occasion. He sighs. Evidently, he kept it too private, given the intimate way he just unintentionally introduced you to his group.

“The way you lo -”

“You know,” you grumble, walking pants-less into the kitchen, only Jeno’s stupid Demon Slayer shirt covering your legs, “aftercare if allegedly important.” You rub your eyes and slowly blink them open, staring first at Jisung, who quickly averts his gaze.

His water is really interesting.

“Only a couple minutes,” Jeno answers, voice initially pointed at Jisung, curious, before he slowly turns to you. “Sorry, did we wake you?”

“No,” you reply, faster, slipping onto the stool closest to Jisung. He passes you his water, and you take a small sip, holding it in both hands an extra second before giving it back. “I was just wondering where you went. I might have been offended if you just hit it and quit it.”

“If you wanted another round, princess, you could’ve just waited,” Jeno laughs. “We’d be back in a second.” His voice tells you not to worry, incidentally soothing Jisung, too, because it ends the previous conversation and Jisung won’t have to concern himself with whether or not Jeno lied to him about having feelings for you. If he does, Jisung will back off and stop sleeping with you. If he doesn’t, then … Jisung has to cope with the consequences of his actions.

Jisung reaches his hand across the table and rubs the back of your palm with his thumb. “When have we ever done that?” Jeno is right. They would have gone back to bed with you, just out of sheer fatigue. Or, Jisung might have laid in the living room. Your couch is incredibly comfortable, and he’s spent a night or two there before today.

“You haven’t,” you answer him, before inhaling sharply and withdrawing your hands into your lap. “Not recently.” Not anymore! (mostly). “You did when we …” You glance at Jeno, then whisper, “when we first started sleeping together.”

Jisung winces. Yeah. He also catches Jeno’s darting eyes. Yeah. It was mostly before he had to work or when he had to meet up with his friends, not willing to take you with him. Although, that turned out so well. Jisung chews his inner lip. He hasn’t left before you woke up in a long time, but maybe friends with benefits is a bad thing without exclusivity. Jisung doesn’t regret the threeway - it was hot; ten out of ten would do it again. It’s just that some unspoken secret now hangs over all of you.

“Should we do it again?”

You and Jisung look at Jeno, then at each other, then back at Jeno, who raises his arms like white flags.

“We don’t have to,” he says smoothly. “It was just an offer, since it seems like no one is going anywhere anytime soon, and we don’t have much to talk about right now.”

Right now.

Jisung’s breath catches in his throat, and he glances at your side profile, waiting for you to say something first.

“Yeah, sure, I don’t have plans today.”

Jisung kisses the shell of your ear while rutting just outside your pussy.

You whined something, just before he pushed you onto the bed, about them needing to take care of you because you still felt sore from earlier. He complies, of course, simply giving you tiny massages: his dick rubs your labia; his hands knead your sides; his lips mouth along your jaw.

“You’re so …” Jisung’s voice dies in his throat. And he glances across the other half of your bed, where Jeno is folding his pants onto a chair. He could praise you, in this isolated moment of privacy. He could call you pretty and baby, like he does when you’re alone, like he praised you the last few hours, but somehow, that, now, feels more intimate than his best friend getting to know him this well. So, he settles elsewhere, falling on his hips. Jisung tucks your hair behind your ear (it slips out easily) then pulls your back against his chest, the hem of Jeno’s shirt riding up your ass. He lifts one of your legs above his waist and slides his dick over your folds again, the tip catching your hole each time up. “Still sensitive?”

You nod, a little too absentmindedly, and lully your head into the crevice of his neck, your jugular now exposed with a soft moan.

Jisung calls your name. It’s a bit impossible, from this angle, to whisper in your ear, so he doesn’t try. Your shoulders roll forward, and your hips dig deeper into the mattress, all just a second, before you relax in his arms. Jisung catches Jeno during the moment though, and Jeno raises an eyebrow, which Jisung ignores.

He just says your name again, instead, asking, “Do you need a break?”

“No,” you mumble. You shake your head, leaning more on the mattress than him now, burying your face in the blankets. “Just …” You sigh. Jisung feels it through your entire chest. He pulls your hair away from your cheeks and kisses up your shoulder, to your neck, to your ear, nearly folding your legs in half. You stop him, pulling your legs together and dragging his arm across your stomach, under the t-shirt. “Just go slow,” you ask, “For now?”

Jeno kneels onto the bed now too, only wearing his boxers. He lifts your face with his index finger, saying:

“Of course, princess, whatever you want.”

He kisses you, deeply, slotting his mouth around your bottom lips, audibly sucking. Jisung feels you relax, slightly, and he pecks the back of your neck to be part of the ensemble too.

“You took a lot,” Jeno says softly, “Earlier. Let us take care of you now.” He glances at Jisung, and Jisung nods, singularly.

“We got you,” Jisung agrees. He cranes down to your nipples, sucking and biting. And you gasp into Jeno’s mouth, Jisung’s name, broken, on your lips. He travels up your neck, gently plucking you away from Jeno (which is fine, since you started jerking him off).

“I’m right here, baby,” Jisung mumbles.

He’s not going anywhere. Still though, you thread five fingers in his hair and yank.

“Shit,” Jisung moans.

“I like it when you swear,” you tell him, eyes half-lidded.

“Mmm, you’re so fucking good for me.” Jisung rarely swears. He prefers to praise you. But sometimes, you catch him off guard, and it’s the only thing he remembers to say. “‘M gonna fuck you now, okay?”

You nod. Okay.

Jisung inhales and grabs his hard dick. He strokes it once, twice, sliding it over your wet cunt, drenching himself in your natural lubricant. You exhale shakily, anticipatorily. Jisung feels you shake your hips, so he holds you down again then enters your pussy in one fluid motion, and you clench around him instantly, wrapping your legs around his tiny waist.

“Fuck, baby,” Jisung whines, shallowly thrusting half his cock toward your cervix. “Je-Jen, how many times did she cum today? She’s so - shit, shit - sensitive.”

“I don’t know,” Jeno babbles, and Jisung turns his head to him. You swallowed his cock, laying there pliantly while both guys wreck your holes. This is what Jisung had in mind, to be honest, earlier when Jeno first suggested that he stay - one of them pounding your pussy and the other bruising your esophagus.

“Maybe six,” Jeno guesses, raising his brows even though he screwed his eyes shut.

“Six? Jesus.” Jisung straightens his back and brushes his hair backwards. No wonder you and Jeno were putty in his hands.

“Do I need to catch up, baby?”

Jisung stacks your legs together, and his thighs slam into your ass. You’ve felt prepped all afternoon, a byproduct of having slept with Jeno already, but shit, Jisung still struggles to bottom out completely, as if your pussy resizes to the perfect, most snug fit. Even your hands find his and perfectly clasp your fingers under his.

“You’re so -” Jisung moans your name, then he bites his lip, slowing down again, his hips making sharp punctures.

“Mmmm,” you blubber, choking on Jeno’s dick.

Your eyes roll back and your tongue pushes Jeno out of your mouth. Everyone moves too fast for Jisung, in contrast with what he wanted earlier, so he angles his dick away from your spongey, little G-spot.

“Jiji,” you whine, slightly muffled. Jeno’s dick hangs on your tongue like a lollipop, the tip as equally glossy from your spit. You hold him by the base, and the shaft involuntarily bobs in and out of your mouth. “Ji, n-no, harder, harder, please.” Your nails claw into his carpal bones, painting his veins more prominently.

Jisung kisses the junction between your boobs.

“I’m going slow,” he tells you, like you asked. He kisses you again, in the same place, loitering another moment. “Let me take care of you.” Jisung flickers his eyes and tongue up your neck, missing the way you looked at him.

“Seems like you enjoy slow,” you mumble, taking Jeno’s cock back in your mouth, gargling again.

Jisung frowns. “Is that a bad thing?”

You shake your head, no.

Before you can answer him, Jeno moans, loudly - because you still suckle his cock.

“Ba - Princess,” he coughs. “I’m gonna cum.”

You purl something incomprehensible, so Jisung has to look up one more time: Jeno flimsily pushes half his dick in your mouth, and you squeeze the base. He could thrust more, if he wanted, because you can take it, but given the way you came six times already, nevermind how many he did, Jisung guesses that Jeno might be overly sensitive, too.

And he’s proven right, another moment when Jeno cums again today.

“Fuck,” Jeno groans, flopping down on the bed almost a foot away, “I don’t think I have anymore cum in me, princess.”

You swallow, audibly though not very thickly and crawl your torso toward him to plant a kiss on his shoulder. Jisung looks away. He pokes out his tongue to lick his lips, but you stop him. You climb into his lap, almost toppling him over, had his core strength not been as firm. He steadies you, at your waist, and simply scans your face; he can’t read you. Jisung likes to think that knows you well enough to decipher all your emotions, but all he can do now is stare. And you stare back, slowly sinking into his arms. You slide your arms down his shoulders, clasping your hands behind his neck. Jisung parts his lips again, tongue hanging on his bottom lip. You lap it back into his mouth.

“You’re gonna get dry, sweetheart,” you whisper, lips vibrating, “and I like it when you’re wet.”

“Mmm,” Jisung mumbles, unwilling to fight back.

Your knees dip into the mattress, on both sides of his tiny waist, as you steadily rock into him. Jisung’s hands meet your hips, guiding you down all the way, harder. He claws at your ass, both cheeks, dragging you into a stable pace that doesn’t disturb the other half of your queen-sized bed. You yank his hair back and slot your lips together in tune with the tempo at which your hips move.

“Feels so fucking good,” Jisung groans lowly. His deep voice resonates through his own ears. “Really, really good, baby,” he repeats. You whine, quietly, breathily, hotly. And he feels your hips twitch. Jisung smirks. He knows how much you love his raspy voice. Sometimes, he teases you over the phone, asking if you can cum just from hearing him. It might also feed your dirty praise kink (that you vehemently deny). Jisung cups the side of your face and puckers his lips prematurely, before drawing you closer. “I need you to cum, baby. Can you cum for me, hmm?”

“Y-you can cum first,” you tell him, almost trying to convince him. You even swirl your hips in his tight grip. He keeps you locked in his arms, barely letting your ass leave his lap. And when your pussy clenches, getting tighter and tighter around his tip, Jisung groans in your neck. His biceps flex and squeeze you equally hard, and you run a single hand down his chest, pausing on his pecs, giving his nipple a little brush. And Jisung cums.

He cums so hard with your permission, slamming up into your cervix, just the once, until he empties his balls. Jisung kisses your shoulder, longly, repeating gentle pecks along your trapezius before slowly rocking his heavy cock between the ridges of your pussy walls. His thighs flutter, spanking your ass. He feels his cock still reach the back of your cunt, shaft thumping, pulsing, on your sensitive, squishy little spot. You pinch his pecs even harder, nails scratching toward his shoulders, and whine in his ears.

“Sung, sweetheart, babe, oh, my God, fuck,” you whimper, syllables chopped into shrill squeaks, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Jisung, right there, yeah, fuck, fuck, Ji -” You cut yourself off on a moan and hug him around the neck, as tight as your orgasm rushes over you.

“Mmm, baby, shit,” Jisung moans, too. Your cunt throbs around him, wringing out the last of his cum. You teeter a little bit taller over him, slipping some of his cock out, and he feels your pussy drool down his thighs. “You squirt, baby?” You bite your lip and nod through your lashes. And Jisung kisses you again. He scanned your face first, blazing through the euphoria, then kissed you again, palm cupping your face, thumb drawing hearts in your cheek, lips closing around yours in long successions. “You’re so -” Jisung swallows, then pecks you quick. “You did so good, baby.”

“Mmm.” You kiss Jisung this time, holding him tight. “Jisungie, too. You are so perfect.”

You and Jisung stare at each other for a moment, probably a few seconds, before you break it to fix his hair. His after-sex hair usually looks worse, when you’re alone, because of all the times you pull his hair and all the times he twists his head in the sheets while you ride him. But now, he doesn’t know what it looks like, so he just trusts your judgement. You needlessly wipe your fingers in the blankets (he’ll clean it up later, he swears) and pluck his bangs perfectly into place.

“Do you think you can make it to the bathroom?” you ask. Jisung nods. “I’ll clean you up. Come on.”

True to your word, you run a small washcloth on Jisung’s most sensitive parts in your narrow bathroom. It was made to fit two people max, but he’s so tall, having gone (and still going) through so many growth spurts that you both have to bend into more ridiculous poses just to tend to each other. Jisung thinks you could have cleaned up independently, especially since you work in silence, but he didn’t want to share you again today (tonight?), not even with yourself.

Unfortunately, you left the room first, breaking the silence to talk about Jeno, who passed out in the other room (Jisung doesn’t blame him; if you came seven times today, half from the both of them, he can’t imagine what Jeno and his fragile refractory period went through). Jisung stayed, mostly to examine himself in the mirror and take one breath of fresh air. His eyes traced all the red lines in his skin. Some of them disappeared pretty quickly, but he found a hickey or two after lifting his arms.

You ultimately meet him in the kitchen, once he slips back into his hoodie and sweatpants, minus the t-shirt and boxers. Unlike Jeno though, you don’t scare him.

“Jisung?” you call, despite the direct eye contact. He tilts his cup of water at you, offering, but you raise your hand. “No, thanks.” You slide your hands up your hips, tucking them into the waistband of your athletic shirt, incidentally lifting your shirt - his shirt. Well, it looks like one of his missing Adidas shirts, just based on the length bunching behind your waist; he has to buy larger shirts to accommodate for his height. You inhale sharply.

“What’s … what’s up?” Jisung drinks more of his water.

“Can we talk?”

He purses his lips and stops himself from saying the obvious: that you’re already talking. Then, he remembers that Jeno could wake up at any second, and he puts his water back down.

“Ye - yeah.” Jisung approaches you, cautiously, his hands bringing your elbows down.

You fold, instantly, nuzzling your nose in his chest. Jisung can’t imagine how he smells, not having showered fully since the early morning. You, though, smell nice, smell sweet, as he accepts your hug, sinking into your hair.

“Don’t go,” you whisper, “this time. Please?”

Jisung glances at your bedroom. “You have Jeno,” he says cryptically. He has no intention of leaving just yet. “I don’t … “ Jisung sighs. You wait for him, while he finds the right words, trying to physically pull them into his mouth, and you’re first to pull away from the hug, staring at him. “I don’t leave.” Anymore hangs in the air - which doesn’t make it any less true. He stays, now; has stayed, after sex, for the last few months. But still, he left, in the beginning. “Hi,” Jisung whispers, like it can erase all the times he did leave. He smoothes the lines around your eyes.

“Hi,” you whisper back, albeit a little louder.

“Is … is that all?”

“No, I -” And it’s your turn to physically drag the right words into conversation.

Jisung wishes you both could be more direct. But it’s hard. He certainly can’t ask you for exclusivity, not after what just happened, not after predicating this … arrangement on a lack of exclusivity. And even worse, Jisung has an idea of what you want to ask him. He wants the same thing, hopefully. Some (a lot) doubt lingers, scratching the right part of his amygdala.

“You don’t have to say it,” Jisung tells you, his thumbs rubbing into your sides again. “We can always talk another time. I’m - I’m sorry,” he chokes, “that I came here unannounced. I’ll let you know in advance, in the future, so that we don’t … you don’t have overlapping … people at your apartment again.”

“Jisung …”

“Unless you want to do it again,” he rectifies, cutting you off. You always relinquish the floor to him, he noticed, and he takes advantage of it now. “I don’t mind sharing,” he lies, not so smoothly. “What - whatever you want.”

“Jisung.” You grab him by the face, making him look you in the eye. He does. Jisung freezes, hunching his shoulders to make it easier for you to hold him. “Can … can I say something, and you won’t …?” Jisung nods; he won’t leave, no matter what you say. “I … oh, God. I hate this.” You swallow once, then lick your lips and swallow again. “I want you.”

“You’re not tired?”

“No, Ji, I -” You sigh, and he feels it in your chest, the way your pulse quivers. “God, this is so embarrassing.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. Not with me.”

You take a deep breath and wince at the thought. Then you whisper something, incoherent, that he’s not sure anyone could hear or read off your lips, and he has to encourage you again.

“Jisung, I like you. So much.”

He stares at you, blinking so slow that his lashes might fall off. He barely registers when you start pulling away, and he scrambles to return you into his arms. You let him manhandle you, falling pliantly over his forearms. Jisung scans your face again, too. His hand creeps onto your cheeks, and you rest into his palm. Gradually, he leans down, without breaking eye contact. He connects your lips, tasting the light bitter taste from this afternoon, only briefly.

“Me, too,” Jisung breathes. “I like you so, so very much.” He presses a singular, chaste, long kiss to your mouth. “I wasn’t going to confess like this,” he admits, tongue breaking the spit on the seam of his lips. “I - I wanted to tell you, but I wasn’t sure how.” He swallows, nervously, but you alleviate it, smiling at him. “I thought it would be more romantic than this, to be honest.”

“You didn’t think about confessing to me with another guy watching?” you giggle, almost jumping into his arms to kiss him again, evidently not expecting a real answer. You do, by the way. You kiss him, this time, pecking to the tempo of Morse code. “So, you’ll stay?”

“Yeah,” Jisung nods, matching your smile. “We can even kick Jeno out, if you want.”

You slap his chest and scrunch your nose cutely. “Don’t be mean, Sung.”

“You’re right,” he concedes. “There’s always the couch.”

#nct jisung x reader #park jisung x reader #jeno x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream fanfic #nct fanfic #nct smut #jensung smut #jeno smut

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moni-logues · 1 year

Text

Kintsugi 3

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 11.1k

Content: more jokes about killing herself, jokes about death etc., reader tries to make herself sick (NOT food/ED-related, does not succeed), mention of a suicide attempt, Yoongi has a depressive episode

A/N: thanks to @btsgotjams27, @purplewhalewrites, and @here2bbtstrash for the help with this one. I hope we got there in the end!

Chapter Two | Masterlist | Chapter Four

Chapter Three – What doesn’t kill you makes you wish you were dead

You woke, able to see without opening your eyes that the sun was streaming, bright and strong, into the room. Your whole body hurt, an all-over bruise; your head was pounding; your mouth was desert dry. It seemed impossible that you could be awake and feel this awful. That this wasn’t actually death. You prayed and hoped that it would somehow be 4am and you could go back to sleep, at least for a little while.

Then you rolled onto your back with a groan and were disoriented to find that it wasn’t your bedsheets against your skin, your mattress beneath you. You couldn’t remember where you were, why you weren’t in your own bed, why you weren’t in any bed at all. With a resigned sigh, you squinted one eye open and the world fell into place.

Yoongi’s apartment. The sun beaming through his floor-to-ceiling windows. Him asleep on the sofa across from you: his legs curled up, his hands tucked sweetly between them, his mouth a tiny pout.

Fuck.

You fumbled around for your phone and found it wedged between the sofa cushions beneath you. The bad news was it was not 4am and you had managed to sleep through your alarm, the first one at 6 and the second at half past and the third at 7. The good news was at least you weren’t late for work... yet. You pulled yourself off the sofa and crawled towards the kitchen, where you chugged a glass of water and felt guilty looking in Yoongi’s fridge for something sugary to drink. No luck. You opened his cupboards quietly, looking for something you could eat. You found the frangipanes from last night and offered up a silent prayer of thanks to whoever might have been listening. You grabbed one – yours or Yoongi’s you neither knew nor cared – and shoved it into your mouth where it immediately turned to ash. You choked it down with another glass of water and dropped the remainder of the tart on the counter.

That was the moment you knew you were really in trouble. A bad hangover could be cured with sugar and fried food and a lot of it. A death hangover could not.

You sat, feeling sorry for yourself, slumped on the floor, leaning against the cupboards, from which vantage point you could see the sideboard you had leant yourself over last night. When you and Yoongi fucked. You closed your eyes—instantly regretting it when it transported you to the high seas of your hangover, the world lurching around you—and tried not to think about it.

Not because it had been bad. Not because you hadn’t wanted it. It hadn’t been. You had. But the twisting of anxiety in your guts made you feel even sicker and you didn’t have the space in your brain to unpick it.

You crawled back to the sofa for your phone and were about to turn to leave the apartment when you looked at him again.

Yoongi. Yoongi who just broke up with his girlfriend. His cheating girlfriend. Yoongi who came from nothing and now could live in luxury. Yoongi who bought you knives to say sorry. That Yoongi. You couldn’t just leave, walk out, ditch him. At the very least you would have to see him the following week in class and you didn’t want this to leave a cloud. You didn’t want to hurt him and, lord knows, if he walked out on you, you’d be sore.

“Yoongi?” you called.

He gave no answer so you called again.

“Yoongi, hey.”

No movement. You crossed the floor to him and gently nudged his shoulder; he gave the softest grunt, a light exhale of air, but didn’t move, didn’t respond.

“Hey,” you tried for a final time, shoving him a little harder.

He frowned and grunted again which satisfied you that at least he wasn’t dead and he was lying on his side so at if he threw up, he was less likely to choke on it. You looked idly around for something to write on, something to write with.

‘Yoongi,

I thought you were joking about killing me but I am actually dead; you really did it. 💀

I am never drinking with you on a work night ever again.’

You put the pen down and then immediately picked it up again, scribbling your name and phone number at the bottom.

‘P.S. please text me so I know you are not also dead’

Then you left.

You made it to the office with tremendous effort. You focused on breathing, first in and then out; you told yourself, like a new mantra: you made it through this second, you can make it through the next. One second at a time. A minute was too long.

You were late, late enough for it to matter, but you were there and that had to count for something. You deserved points for that at least. You could have just as easily melted into the subway or evaporated into the ether. You’d have preferred either. But you made it.

You first stop was the bathroom. You knelt down and lifted the seat, took a deep breath, then forcibly jammed your hand into your throat. You felt so sure that if you threw up even a little, you’d feel better. It had worked before; it could work again. However, no matter how you gagged, how your stomach heaved, it wouldn’t come. You couldn’t force anything up.

Drooling and crying, your knees complaining, you admitted defeat. You wiped your slobbery hand with some toilet roll and lowered the seat. You thought it couldn’t get any worse and then you pulled down your cycling shorts under your dress to you realise there was nothing beneath them. Where was your underwear? A cold sweat formed on your brow as you remembered yourself slipping them off, kicking them away, not picking them back up. You had left your dirty underwear somewhere in Yoongi’s apartment. You shuddered; you did not want to have to think about how that conversation was going to go.

You washed your hands and splashed your face with water and tried not to think about how this was just the start of your day.

* * * *

“Oh, babygirl,” Taehyung cooed as you approached your desk.

You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t respond. One second at a time. You curled into his lap and he jiggled you slightly to make sure you were secure; you whined as the motion made your head spin.

“You smell like a fucking distillery,” he told you, handing you a drink that was ice-cold and sugar-sweet. You drank gratefully, greedily, and said nothing. “Where did you sleep last night?”

You only groaned. You didn’t think you were capable of conversation but also desperately did not want to have this conversation with him right now.

“My girl, my girl,” he sang, “don’t lie to me. Tell me, where did you sleep last night?”

“Teddy, please. I want to be dead, right now.”

He sighed dramatically and swivelled his chair back towards his desk; he got on with his work and you tried not to throw up on him. He offered you snacks and you refused. He asked if you were going to do any work and you couldn’t answer him. He reminded you that the inter-departmental meeting was at 11am and you swore repeatedly.

“What are the chances of me being able to miss it?” you asked.

“About zero.”

“What are the chances of people not knowing I’m hungover?”

“Absolute zero.”

With another tremendous effort, you climbed out of Taehyung’s lap and into your own chair. You woke your computer and logged in, then you stared, unseeing, at the screen.

“Garam!” you called weakly, trying to beckon over your assistant without actually beckoning. You heard her chair roll and her head popped up over the desk divider.

“Yeah?”

“Any chance you fancy leading in the meeting this morning?”

There was a pause and you couldn’t swivel your eyes to see her expression. You were praying this was a surprised pause, a pleased pause.

“Uh, you want me to present?”

“If you feel you can, yes, please, that would be an enormous help. Though I realise I’m pushing this on you last-minute so please don’t feel that you ha-”

“I’ll do it!”

“You will?”

“Yeah, I can do it! Thank you!”

“No, thank you. You are doing me a real solid. Thanks, babe.”

A sigh of relief. You checked the time: 10:18. You had survived more than two hours since you woke up. Less than eight hours before you could go home and die as you wished. You made it through one second, you could make it through the next.

* * *

By lunchtime, you were feeling marginally better. Just human enough that you thought you might be able to eat something. You sent Taehyung out for ‘as much fried food as you can carry in your two hands, please, Teddy’.

“Here you go, princess; stuff yourself. And then you have to tell me everything.”

You nodded, already ripping open the boxes of fried chicken, sotteok, hotdogs, shoving a bit of everything into your mouth. Your hunger was suddenly overwhelming, a chasm in your stomach that you couldn’t fill quickly enough. Taehyung also brought back iced coffees and a Coke which you drank so fast that the burp that followed it almost brought your food back up.

“You are a vile creature.”

“Thanks, Teddy, I love you, too.”

“Come on, time to fess up. Where did you sleep last night?”

You gulped down your mouthful of chicken and paused.

“I mean, you already know the answer. I slept at Yoongi’s.”

His grin was triumphant as he thrust his two fists in the air.

“I told you! I told you he’d be a good rebound-fuck!”

You slapped him hard on the leg.

“Shut up! Be quiet! That’s not what it was!”

“Then what was it?”

You didn’t have an answer. It probably was a rebound-fuck. You didn’t really know. You hadn’t seen it coming.

“I don’t know, ok? I don’t know how it happened.”

“What do you mean? Surely you know what’s going to happen when a guy asks you to his apartment.”

“No! I didn’t! Last week, he didn’t even speak to me; how was I supposed to expect we’d have sex?!” you hissed, picking up a sotteok skewer and taking the biggest bite you could to put off speaking again.

“Did you want to have sex?”

You chewed slowly and went back in for another bite before Taehyung took the skewer from you and turned you to face him directly. He looked serious.

“Are you saying you didn’t want to have sex and-”

“No! God, no!” you cried through your full mouth. “It wasn’t like that.” You swallowed and took a sip of coffee. “Yes, I wanted to. I wanted it. I might even have initiated it, I don’t know. We were so, so drunk... I just... I don’t want to do it again. I’m not-… I can’t. I was right the first time; I don’t want to sleep with anyone.”

“Was it really that bad?”

You groaned loud and wanted to face-plant straight into your chicken.

“Shut up, Teddy! No, it wasn’t! It wasn’t bad! I just don’t want to sleep with anyone! I’m not-… I’m still not there.”

“Ok,” he replied with a shrug. “You don’t have to.”

“But I don’t know what to tell him. I don’t know what he thinks it was. I don’-”

“Wait, wait, hold on. I thought he had a girlfriend. What’s happened to her?”

“Oh, they broke up. She was cheating on him.”

“Ouch. Well, I can’t imagine he’s itching to get right back on the relationship horse, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I don’t know what I’m worried about.”

“Bullshit.”

“Hey!”

“You don’t spend seven thousand hours a week in therapy so you can bullshit me with ‘I don‘t know’. I want the entire confection, please.”

You crossed your arms on the table and let your head fall into them. You secretly hoped that if you kept quiet long enough, he would let it go.

“I’m waiting, princess.”

When did Taehyung ever let anything go?

You lifted your head and rested your chin on your arm.

“I feel like I’m his ex-girlfriend and he is San.”

“How so?”

“They lived together and he was taking fucking baking classes so she could impress the people she worked with; he said she said he never did anything for her; he said he doesn’t know if she ever loved him but he was doing that shit anyway! San took care of me; he did so much for me that I’ve made it all the way to 26 without having to be a fully competent adult!-”

“You know he chose to do that.”

“And then he chose not to! And so did Yoongi. And they were both right. But I-” You paused to grit your teeth and growl, fists clenched on the table. “I can’t make it up to San but I can make it up to Yoongi.”

“So you want to be with him then? Have a relatio-”

“No! God, fuck no. No, no, no. I’m not there. I’m so not there. And my therapist says I’m not allowed anyway.”

“Oh, relationships 'aren’t allowed’ but projecting all over a man you barely know and have already slept with is a-ok?”

“She doesn’t know I slept with him.”

“And what’s she going to say when she finds out?”

“I hate you so much.”

“That does not sound like something a therapist should say.”

You put your head in your hands. Taehyung was right (as he usually was, but you were not going to admit that).

“If you don’t want a romantic relationship with him, how do you see this going? You think you can just be friends with a guy you see your ex-boyfriend in? Who’s clearly at least a little interested in you; the timing’s kind of suspicious, don’t you think?”

“What?”

“Well, he meets you and you force him to be your friend and then suddenly, apparently out of nowhere, he breaks up with his girlfriend?”

When you were discussing someone else’s life, Taehyung’s straight-forward, no-bullshit, tell it like he sees it attitude was ideal, perfect, so much fun; it was significantly less fun when directed at you. Ditto his perspicacity. Ditto his psychic powers of prescience which you had known him long enough to be convinced he had.

You were saved by the bell. The buzz, anyway, of your phone on the table. Messages received.

[13:37] 010-7391-6842: not dead

[13:37] 010-7391-6842: kind of wish I were haha

[13:39] 010-7391-6842: it’s Yoongi btw

[13:40] 010-7391-6842: are you ok? Still dead?

You dropped your head back into your hands and groaned. Taehyung took your phone from you and read Yoongi’s messages.

“Ugh, kind of wishes he were dead... He sounds like you.”

“Why do you think I like him so much?”

“Oh, you like him?”

“Not like that! You know what I mean! Stop being difficult!”

“Sounds like you’re projecting yourself onto him, too, babygirl.”

You kicked him under the table.

“Stop knowing me!”

You picked up your phone again to reply, but had barely started before you hit another obstacle.

“If I call him ‘babe’, is that going to mean something? Will that make it weird?”

“I don’t know; do you usually call him that?”

“Well, I don’t know. He told me that none of his exes ever used pet names with him so I said that I would, but that was before the sex so now I don’t know if it’ll mean... I don’t know, anything, or nothing, or something.”

Taehyung shrugged and picked up his own phone, answering without looking at you.

“I don’t know, babe; I don’t know the guy. And straight people are weird.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Besides, you don’t know that he’s straight. I don’t know that.”

“He slept with you so he’s straighter than I am and that’s all I need to know.”

You sighed at your phone and, in the absence of any actual brain power, you decided not to think at all and answer with whatever first came to your head.

[13:42] You: Yoongi! You’re alive! There I was thinking that –I- was going to be the one on trial for murder...

[13:42] You: Not that you’re off the hook. I’m barely hanging on here

You were sitting in your apartment, still nursing your hangover and waiting for Yoongi. You were tired; your head still span when you moved too quickly and you could not stop eating. You didn’t really want to see him. You didn’t want to have a conversation that involved the word ‘ex-boyfriend’; you didn’t want to have to explain yourself. You owed it to him to do so. The anxiety in your gut was allowing the nausea to resurface and you were reaching for your phone to tell Yoongi not to come, to eat your food himself, to chuck it away, who cared? Anything to not have to deal with it. But before you could even unlock it, the buzzer sounded. You let him in and sat and waited once more.

You heard him approach before you even heard him knock, the walls in your building thinner than air. You stood and opened the door just as he started to knock, opening it to see him, fist still in the air. He blinked quickly, eyebrows raised in shock.

“Oh, honey, you look like shit,” you said in way of greeting.

“Uh, thanks?”

“No, I’m glad!”

You ushered him into your shoebox office-tel apartment and took the bags from him, dumping them on the side.

“If you’d shown up here looking fresh and radiant, I’d have had to kill myself immediately. I’m glad we both look like shit.”

He laughed awkwardly.

“You don’t look like shit.”

“That’s so sweet of you, but you don’t have to lie to me.”

You grinned and he grinned back and you were determined to breeze over whatever awkwardness there might have been, whatever awkwardness there was. You peered into the bags he’d brought and pulled out your tubs of jjajangmyeon.

“Have you eaten?” you asked. “Want some noodles?”

“Oh, uh... I-”

“I did make this, but there was a recipe and a teacher involved and everything so I’m pretty confident it’s not going to be terrible.”

“Um, ok.”

You hadn’t even wanted him to come and now you were insisting he stay for dinner. You just needed something to do, something to occupy your hands, something to look at that wasn’t his face. His sweet, pale face, almost wan, a light bruise of purple under his eyes. But you weren’t looking.

You dumped two portions of jjajangmyeon into a pan and pulled out the makeshift dining table-cum-counter top and unfolded your foldaway stools.

“Sorry, this is not exactly luxury high-rise apartment living.”

“It’s ok. It’s nice.”

Silence settled over you and you wanted to fill it, wanted to make the anxiety in your gut go away; you knew Yoongi wouldn’t, so you had to. You reminded yourself that you were friends. That you were friends and you wanted to continue being friends, that was all. This wasn’t scary. It was Yoongi.

“So have you had the day from hell or was it just me?”

“It was pretty rough.”

“Tell you the one good thing about a hangover though. You can say you want to die as many times as you like and no one looks at you weird. But when I say it all the other times, ohh, suddenly it’s ‘don’t say that’ and ‘are you alright?’. You can’t joke about anything these days!” You hoped he knew you were joking.

He laughed softly.

“You do do it a lot,” he said. “Joke about dying.” He looked at you, maintaining eye contact, even as he blinked quickly.

“Yeah...” You continued talking without thinking, grateful that you had something to say. “The thing is I used to joke about it all the time, but it wasn’t a joke, y’know? I actually meant it. Whereas now, I can say it and not mean it and it makes me laugh.” You snorted. “It’s kind of life-affirming.”

Yoongi didn’t reply and you felt embarrassment creep up around your ears.

“Sorry, too much? I’m not at my best today so my filter is also not at its best.”

“No, no, not at all. I get it. I- yeah, I get it.”

You looked over at him and he lowered his eyes, frowning at his hands.

“Do... you?”

Did he really get it? You hoped he didn’t but there was a pull in your gut that said he did. That said he would understand. Understand you. There was something between you that just stuck. Held you there, closer to him than you thought you should have been. It was the thing that told you you had to be friends; you couldn’t let him walk out of your life. This was meant, somehow.

Taehyung would’ve probably told you it was projection.

Your therapist too.

He looked up and then away and then back to you, his hands still twisting together.

They were wrong.

“Yeah,” he answered and you let him pause, let it sit there, waiting for him to continue. He nodded. “Yeah, I do get it. I-…" He sighed and then nodded, as if to himself. “Yes, I do get it, but I probably ‘mean it’ more than you do when I joke about it.”

You nodded, your heart screaming at you to hug him, to hold his hand, to... you didn’t know what. To try to make it better. Even though you knew it didn’t work like that. The relief you thought you would feel knowing that he knew, too, that he understood, was entirely absent. In its place, a cold stone of concern. You wondered if this was how your friends felt, how San felt—had it been all the time? Only sometimes? Only on your bad days? You felt like you could see Yoongi’s little, soft heart and anxiety spiked in you as you thought about the conversation ahead.

“Thanks for telling me,” you said. You didn’t really know what else to say. Everything that came into your head was the last thing you’d ever want to hear.

He flicked his eyes quickly over to you and then away again.

“Yeah, I mean, you too.”

You shrugged.

“Eh, I’ll tell you anything. It’s getting me to shut up that’s the trick.”

You chuckled, a little pointless burble, and he didn’t return it. You glanced over at him and he was still looking at his hands, his fingers twisting around each other. Then he looked up at you, his eyes shining, mouth twisted.

“Would you go back to your ex if he came here tomorrow and said he wanted you back?”

The question threw you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t thought about that exact scenario a thousand times in your head after the break-up but you weren’t expecting to be asked and, truthfully, hadn’t thought about it for a little while.

“Why?” you asked back. “Has your ex come crawling back?”

He laughed and you didn’t think you were imagining the bitterness in it.

“No. She hasn’t. And I wouldn’t have her if she did. I just... wondered.”

You sighed, looked into the pan of noodles on the stove, and thought about your answer. There was a lot to unpack, too much, far too much on top of the conversation you knew was still to come. You shook your head of all the difficult thoughts.

“No, I don’t think I would. I need to not be in a relationship right now. I’ve got things I have to do by myself, for myself. I’m not… there. Not ready. Not even for going back to one. And honestly? He’s never coming back.”

You plated up and sat opposite him at your little table. You could feel the pregnancy of the pause pressing heavily on you.

“Which, I suppose, is as good a segue as any,” you began, before taking a bite, chewing it slowly, hoping that Yoongi might start.

He didn’t. He swirled his noodles with his chopsticks and took his own first bite.

“Do we- we should probably talk about last night? Maybe?”

Yoongi nodded, looking down at his food. Then suddenly he looked up.

“This is nice, by the way. Tastes good.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Was he changing the subject deliberately? Buying himself some time? A shudder went through you as your mind began racing with all the things he might say to you, all the things you’d least have wanted to hear. You were no longer dreading what you had to say; you were dreading hearing what he had to say. You knew you couldn’t let him go first.

“So anyway-” You cut in, interrupting your own thoughts. “Like I said, I’m not ready for a relationship right now, but I also- I don’t want something casual. A hook-up. Situation...ship. Friends with benefits or whatever. I can’t do that. I need the commitment. But I’m also not ready for commitment. So. I don’t know. I mean, I do know. I really would like us to be friends. Just friends. I like you a lot. I’m glad we met and I like your company and I want to be friends, but I can only be friends. Nothing more.”

It wasn’t not true. It was all true. Now that he was here, you didn’t want to dump on him. He didn’t need to know all about your ex, your therapy; that was your business, your problem. You just wanted to be his friend. It was that simple. You’d extended your hand and every part of you was crossed, hoping he would take it.

You waited for his response, your stomach so tight with anxious anticipation that you couldn’t take a single bite. Your heart was pounding in your chest and in your skull; a dull ache formed behind your eyes in the long seconds that stretched between you.

Yoongi was looking into his noodles again. You saw him pause and then he continued eating. He nodded. Grunted.

“Yeah,” was all he said.

You waited for him to go on. To elaborate. To tell you something. You hoped this was just one of his pauses and you held your breath waiting for more. But nothing came. You were opening your mouth to say something—you didn’t know what—when the beep of your door lock sounded and your door opened. You stood, not expecting anyone, and were simultaneously relieved and made even more anxious to see Taehyung waltz through your door with pizza.

“Teddy! What are you doing here?” Your voice was tight and high-pitched and you cleared your throat, tried to make your face look normal.

He looked at you, then at Yoongi, then back at you. He raised his eyebrows.

“What do you mean what am I doing here? I told you I was going to bring pizza, so here I am, bringing pizza.”

“Oh shit.”

You had forgotten completely. In all the anxiety of Yoongi, it had slipped your mind; of course he’d said he’d bring pizza. You remembered now. Too late.

“Sorry, I forgot. We’re eatin- Oh. Uh. This is Yoongi. Yoongi, this is Tedd- Taehyung. He’s my best friend.”

“I’m her only fucking friend.”

“Shut up!”

You snatched the pizza from him and turned, walking to set it on the coffee table. You heard Yoongi’s mumbled greeting to Taehyung and you wondered what he was thinking. Sweat was prickling uncomfortably all over you. This was not a collision you had anticipated happening at all, let alone this quickly, let alone now, right this minute. But you were also grateful for Taehyung’s interruption. It cut you off, forced you to move, to think about something else. He had shown up just in time.

“You are terrible, you know that, princess? Cheating on me, letting me walk into your house to find I’ve been replaced?” He crossed the apartment in two long paces to stand in front of you and took your face in his hands. “The things I do for you and this is how you repay me?”

You pushed him away, flustered and embarrassed.

“Shut up, Teddy. I said I’m sorry I forgot. Just sit down, would you?”

You returned to the dining table and picked up your bowl.

“There’s not really room here for three but we can squish in if we sit on the floor,” you said to Yoongi and he nodded, standing and lifting his own bowl.

You pushed Taehyung over and sat next to him so Yoongi could sit at the end of the table and not get uncomfortably close to a man he’d just met.

“Can I eat some of your pizza, though?” you asked Taehyung.

“You’re an ungrateful swine and deeply lucky that I love you so much,” he replied, opening the box for you to take a slice. You grinned and blew him a kiss. He pressed one into your hair in return.

“How did you guys meet?” Yoongi asked.

“Ew, you make it sound like we’re a couple.”

You turned and punched Taehyung in the leg and fixed him with a sharp glare.

“Of course, we’re not a couple; don’t be stupid. He doesn’t think we’re a couple!”

“Not now, not ever. Gross.”

You gave him another punch.

“We met at work-”

“She was my assistan-”

“I was not! I was an assistant! And you were only a coordinator so you were barely above me. And now we work at the same level anyway.”

“I remember your first day. I thought you were going to be a complete square. You were so quiet—if you can believe that.” He addressed the last part to Yoongi and Yoongi very nearly grinned. “But I knew you’d be mine; I took you under my wing. It was like a-”

“A meeting of the minds.”

“Yep, both empty.”

“How did you two meet?” Taehyung asked.

“You already know, you idiot! We met at baking class.” You turned to look at Yoongi. “It was a meeting of the hearts, right? Both broken!” You laughed—a little forced—and held your hand out on the table for him to take, which he eventually did and then he looked at you, for the briefest second, and he looked so lost and then so grateful that your heart lurched and you felt tears sting in your eyes. You wished, not for the first time and not for the last, that you could read his mind. These seconds, these fleeting moments, when he fell open to you, when the quietest whispers of his reached you, that’s when you saw yourself in him. That’s when you knew that you were the same. That’s why you needed him.

* * *

Yoongi left and Taehyung stayed. You leant out of your apartment to wave Yoongi down the corridor and then you leant heavily against your closed door.

“So that’s Yoongi,” Taehyung said, sitting on the sofa, opening his arms to you.

“That’s Yoongi.”

You crossed the apartment and climbed into Taehyung’s lap.

“He’s cute.”

You only hummed in response.

“Did you tell him you want to be friends?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“Yeah.”

“‘Yeah?’”

“Yeah.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Did you tell him you left your underwear in his apartment?”

You sat up with a jolt.

“Shit! Oh fuck, no, I forgot! I got so stressed by the conversation, I forgot! Oh fuck oh fuck. He’s going to think I deliberately left it there! What if he finds it?”

“Obviously he’s going to find it. The more important question is what if he keeps it?”

You pressed your head against his chest and groaned. The man you had just insisted you couldn’t be more than friends with was going to go back to his apartment and find a soiled pair of your knickers and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

“I guess it might give you an answer, though,” Taehyung mused.

“An answer to what?”

“Whether or not he has feelings for you. If you never see them again, you know he’s kept them and is probably do-”

“No! No, shut up! Shut your whole mouth!”

You clamped both hands over his mouth, kneeling (you hoped painfully) on his legs, glaring at him.

“We’re friends! Just friends! He’s not going to do anything with them! Stop it! Stop saying things! It’s not like that! It’s not!”

He rolled his eyes and hummed in a tone that suggested he was not at all convinced. With a warning glance, you removed your hands from his mouth.

“Whatever you say, my little delusional baby.”

* * *

When you woke the next morning and set about tidying your apartment, you took out the tubs of frangipane tarts that Yoongi had brought and you had left on the side. You took out the tupperware you recognised and, below them, tupperware you didn’t. And a note on top.

They’re your favourite. Have mine too ˙ᵕ˙

You still felt awkward and unsure when you were standing next to Yoongi the following week, listening to your instructor teach you how to make muffins. He gave no indication that he felt it; he seemed much the same as he ever had. But there was an anxiety humming in your heart now; Taehyung’s words rattled in your head. And you had told your therapist and she did point out that maybe your attachment to Yoongi was not entirely healthy. You knew that, but you wanted to ignore it. Making Yoongi happy had become your road to redemption and you were going to follow it come hell or high water.

“You and Taehyung seem close,” he said lightly as he weighed out butter.

“He wasn’t lying when he said he’s my only friend. My ex and I, we met at work- not this work, my job before; we don’t still work together. Thank God. But we met at work so all our friends were shared, really. And I guess he gets them all in the divorce! Except Taehyung. Don’t really know what I’d do without him, to be honest. I’m trying-“ You stopped, hesitated, self-conscious again of talking too much, over-sharing, but Yoongi looked at you expectantly and you ploughed on. “I’m trying not be co-dependent, not to rely on him too much. It’s one thing when it’s your girlfriend, but when it’s just your friend—I don’t know; I ask a lot of him, I think. He’s there a lot. For me. I moved in with him right after the break-up before I found my apartment. It was awful and we should never live together again-“ You laughed. “But he was a real life-saver. I d-“

“Stop!” Yoongi cried, grabbing your wrist as you were stirring your muffin batter. You looked at him in alarm.

“What? I’m mixing!”

“You’re mixing too much!”

“What does that mean?”

You looked at the recipe sheet in front of you.

“Add dry ingredients and blueberries and mix. I’m doing it right!”

“No, you can’t stir it like that. You have to be gentle.”

You watched him as he moved his mixing spoon slowly through the batter, twisting and turning it, the white flour disappearing in a beige swirl.

“How do you know how to do it like that? I thought you couldn’t bake.”

He shrugged.

“I looked it up.”

“You study? You prepare for these classes?”

He shrugged again.

“Just want to get it right.”

You grinned.

“You’re a nerd.”

He grinned back.

“My muffins are going to be better than yours.”

You were sure they would.

* * *

“Do you want to get a drink after?” you asked as you pulled your tray of blueberry muffins from the oven. “We don’t have to go to my shithole apartment; I won’t subject you to that again.”

Yoongi chuckled.

“I thought you said never again?”

“Ha, I say a lot of things. And y’know, never say never!”

“I can’t tonight. But thanks.”

Oh.

“Oh. Ok! Another time!”

Disappointment deflated you slowly; your joy a tyre with a slow puncture. It hurt. It shouldn’t have. If you were stupid enough to get attached out of all proportion, then you had to at least be able to deal with the consequences of that. He was busy. He had other plans. That was all it meant.

Nevertheless, when you waved him off at the end of class, it was with a stone sinking in your stomach.

It sank heavier the next week when Yoongi didn’t show at all. You watched the door for half an hour, convinced he would come through it. He was always late. He’d show. He would definitely show.

But he didn’t.

You pulled out your phone.

[19:37] You: you’re missing class? It’s yakgwa!

[20:05] You: and I didn’t even bring any illicit ingredients this time!

[20:07] You: you’re missing a once in a lifetime opportunity to see me follow instructions properly!

You could hear Taehyung. You knew what he would say. ‘You’re projecting, babygirl. He’s busy’. You had to teach yourself that you weren’t the centre of anyone else’s life and that was ok. That was good; you were the centre of your own. That was why you were doing all this. That’s what had brought you to class in the first place.

But it had also brought you to Yoongi and you didn’t want to let this go. You were friends. He meant something to you. This meant something, you were sure of it. He wouldn’t just miss a class and not tell you. There had to be a reason.

[21:12] You: If you’re not careful, I’ll sneak into your apartment and make you try some

[21:12] You: [you sent an attachment]

[21:12] You: I didn’t do a good job 🙈

* * *

[08:13] Yoongi: sorry, I was working really late last night. Sorry I missed it. I hope it was good.

[08:13] You: are you coming next week?? You better!!!!

[08:27] Yoongi: yeah I’m coming

* * *

Except he didn’t. He had told you it was busy at work. He had told you he had been sleeping badly. He had only just broken up with his girlfriend. She had been cheating on him. His life didn’t revolve around you; it wasn’t about you. And you knew that. But you began to feel held at a distance and it pricked at you, painful and uncomfortable. Something wasn’t right.

You sat on the subway, tubs of profiteroles and tubs of mapa dubu on your lap. You took deep breaths and checked your phone. You hadn’t heard from him at all for three days. That was unusual. Sometimes he didn’t reply for hours, sometimes he didn’t reply at all until you sent another text. But you always heard from him eventually, within a day. You looked at your messages, six unanswered; the last two hadn’t even been read. You felt uneasy.

You remembered all of your worst days. The isolation. The hiding. You remembered telling him why you joked about killing yourself; you remembered all the jokes he made alongside you. He told you he got it. ‘I probably mean it more than you do’. You knew there was still a chance you were projecting. You knew this could be all in your head. You knew, in a sad, selfish, sick little way that maybe this was wishful thinking. That if this were the case, then maybe you weren’t the only truly broken one. It was a little voice, quiet and distant, and your concern was louder. But it was there all the same. Telling you that you weren’t alone. Not anymore.

You also knew that Yoongi didn’t have a live-in girlfriend anymore but you didn’t know if he had someone else who would take care of him. You felt about how lost you would have been on your worst days without your ex. Your dependence on him was a problem, but you remembered the palpable relief you felt when he was there with a physical ache in your chest. You thought about Taehyung, letting you move in, letting you sleep in his bed, cooking for you, cancelling dates so he could be with you. Did Yoongi have a Taehyung?

You got off at the next stop and changed lines. You sent Yoongi a text telling him you were coming. When you got out at the closest stop to his apartment, you tried calling him. No answer.

* * *

“I’m here!” you called out as you slipped off your shoes and padded quietly to the kitchen. You hadn’t expected the codes to work. He’d told you he would change them. He hadn’t. You didn’t know what that meant. Maybe nothing. But at the very least, it meant you could get in and you were here now.

You needed a second, one moment before you turned around to find him, to look at what you had walked into. You didn’t know if you wanted to be embarrassed by your wrong assumptions or right on the money.

You dumped your bags on the counter and turned around to see Yoongi’s face, just visible over the arm of the sofa as he stared at you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. His voice was quiet, croaky, as if he hadn’t spoken all day.

“I told you I was coming, love,” you countered. “I messaged.”

Yoongi flung out an arm and picked his phone up from off the floor and sighed, flopping back down and disappearing from view.

You walked over and knelt before him.

“You missed class.”

He rolled over onto his back and said nothing.

“Don’t think for a second I’m going to give you one of my profiteroles; I baked them myself and I’m going to eat them that way, too!”

You were joking, aiming for levity, landing somewhere far from that.

“Have you eaten?” you asked.

There was a reply this time: a shrug and a grunt. You looked at the empty snack packets on the coffee table and wondered how long they’d been sitting there.

“Well, lucky for you-” you stood and gathered the detritus as you spoke, “-I happen to be an expert amateur chef extraordinaire and we made mapa dubu today. Stay there.” As if he were likely to move.

You picked up as you made your way to the kitchen and pried open one of your tubs from class. You clattered about in his kitchen as you heated it up, looking for crockery, looking for cutlery, while he lay, unmoving on the sofa. You opted for the microwave, for ease and because it would create less clean-up. You stared pointedly at the tub as it rotated inside the machine. You were right and it was opening a deep fissure in your heart.

You chose to ignore it. Your feelings were not the issue at hand. It wasn’t about you. You turned your attention to the microwave (you always had been good at reheating food) and gingerly picked up the steaming hot tub to tip the contents into a bowl. You returned to the living room and handed it to Yoongi.

He sat up and took it from you more readily than you had expected him to and then he started eating. You didn’t want to sit and watch him so you went back to the kitchen to tackle the dishes in and around the sink. You recognised this. The external reflecting the internal. The mess. The neglect. Part of you felt vindicated: you weren’t just projecting; you were the same; he did get you. A bigger part of you wished he didn’t.

When you heard the unmistakable thunk of china on wood, you took a large glass of water over.

“You should drink all of that,” you told him, picking up the bowl and taking it back to the kitchen to clean.

“Do you want to talk?” you asked him as you perched on the coffee table across from him. He shook his head and lay back down on his side. “Ok, then, babe, budge up.”

You climbed onto the sofa behind him, slipping one arm underneath his neck and wrapping the other around his waist. You hooked your leg over his hip and held him tight. He held himself unnaturally still. You didn’t know if you were doing the right thing. You had never been in this position before. You were just doing what had always been done for you and hoping it was right.

“Does this make you uncomfortable?” you asked quietly and there was a pause before he shook his head.

“It’s embarrassing,” he said.

“Why?”

“I’m... I’m gross.”

You chuckled and pressed your nose into his neck, making him squirm. You remembered the smell of his aftershave, absent now, a light tang of a lived-in body in its place, the faintest ghost of laundry detergent clinging on to his shirt.

“Nah, sweetie, you’re fine. On one occasion, it had been so long since I’d showered that my ex ran a bath, picked me up and dumped me in it, clothes and all. It had been weeks rather than days, I think... It was also not just one occasion.”

You felt Yoongi unclench a little and you gave him a squeeze.

“When I finally made it out of bed – only as far as the sofa, mind – he would go out to work having lined me up food and drink on the coffee table. He would push the table closer so everything was within reach so I had no excuses—not that that always worked. Sometimes, he had to physically sit me up and spoon feed me... I just didn’t...”

“Care.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice that he did that. It sounds like he was good to you.”

You hummed and braced yourself for the question that you knew was coming next.

“Why did you break up?”

You exhaled, long and slow.

“I don’t know that there was just one thing. There was one reason, fundamentally, but lots of things led to it.” You used your therapy voice, slow and deliberate, not letting all your raw, unbaked thoughts drop out of your mouth in a tumble. Like you practised. “He was my safe space. We would go out and I would plaster on a smile and pretend to be happy and fun and positive and then, as soon as we got home, I would take it all off. When it was just the two of us, I didn’t have to pretend anything, which was a relief to me, but it meant that I was never really... happy, I suppose, around him anymore.”

You tried to will your heart to beat slower. You didn’t want Yoongi to feel it beating against his back, thumping hard. You could joke about killing yourself and pretend it was light, unserious. But you didn’t actually say the real truth, the plain truth, out loud. Not to anyone. You squeezed Yoongi tighter, for your benefit, not his, and continued.

“About a year after we got together, I tried to kill myself... He was... He was amazing, really. I don’t know how I’d have got through it without him. He really, really took care of me. Then last year—I didn’t try again, but I got about as close to it as I had been since the first time. And I think... it changed things for him. It was different that time. I think he saw his future ahead of him, always waiting for me to breakdown again, waiting for the sword to fall. He thought it was a one-time thing. I guess so did I, really; it’s not like I planned it. I don’t know.” You paused, feeling your mouth starting to run away with you. You took another breath. “He took good care of me just like he had before but... I think he was already falling out of love with me then. You can’t break up with someone in that state and be anything but the bad guy so I think he bided his time, waited ’til I was on my feet again to do it.”

You hadn’t said these things to anyone but your therapist. Taehyung knew everything but he pieced things together, he knew without you saying—you realised, at that moment, that it was entirely possible your ex told him things, so Taehyung could support you, maybe even so that Taehyung could support him.

Saying these things now, out loud, made them real. More real than they had been before. It was a shock to realise that the therapy was working, that you could see your relationship—and your break-up—more clearly now. It was even more of a shock to realise that you didn’t feel bitter anymore. Not towards him anyway. You had been saying for so long that you understood, that you didn’t blame him, that it was right, that the break-up was a good thing, you hadn’t realised that now you actually believed it, too.

“I don’t blame him. He deserves more than I was giving him, more than I could give him. I had been taking a lot and I don’t think I realised that at the time. He deserves to be loved fully by someone who can. I do, too, I suppose. And so do you...”

You gave him another squeeze and he brought his hands up, one clasped over yours, the other gripping your wrist.

“No one’s ever...” His voice is so quiet, you can barely hear it. “No one’s ever taken care of me before.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Your ex?”

He snorted and there was that familiar pause before he spoke again.

“It was good in a way. I couldn’t waste away in bed because I knew I had to be up and dressed when she got home. I had no other choice because she lived here so she would always know if I didn’t.”

“I don’t understand. Did she make you?”

“No… But- she… She didn’t like it if I didn’t… She thought I was being-…”

“Lazy?”

“Yeah. Weak. I don’t know.”

His grip on your wrist was tight, your pulse thudding under his fingers. You swore under your breath.

“I’m so glad you broke up with her. She sounds like a cunt.”

He hummed non-committally.

“Is that what’s brought this on?” you asked. “The break-up?”

He sighed but didn’t answer.

“Because, I mean, it’s not like I’m an expert or anything—I am literally in therapy; I don’t know shit but—you deserve more than she gave you. She was fucking cheating on you. That’s bullshit. She treated you like crap. That’s bullshit. You should be with someone who can actually see you for the person you are and treat you accordingly-”

“Maybe that’s what she was doing.”

“What are you talking about? She treated you like shit.”

“Right.”

You sighed and held him tighter.

“Baby... You’re not shit.”

You waited for him to argue and, when no response came, pressed on.

“You’re fun and sweet-”

You could feel him squirm as he pressed his face into the cushion.

“-and kind and generous and loyal-”

He drew the blanket over his face and gripped it tightly in his hands. He tried to sit up, tried to disentangle himself from your koala hold, but you held him firm.

“No, you’re not going anywhere,” you told him, your voice firm. “This is maximum-security, ok?”

“Maximum-security?” His question muffled from under the blanket.

You hesitated and then loosened your grip on him, resting your hand on his waist, unhooking your leg from over his hip.

“This is a cuddle.”

Then you reverted to how you were: your hands crossing on his chest, your bodies pressed tight together, your leg over his.

“This is a maximum-security cuddle,” you explained. “It’s nice. We like it.”

He didn’t protest, didn’t move, so you carried on.

“Anyway, as I was saying. You are kind and loy-”

“You already said that.”

“Yeah? Well, I think you can stand to hear it more than once. So you’re going to stay here and listen to this. You are fun and loyal and kind and generous and-“

A shudder ran through him and you could see the blanket twist in his hands.

“-smart and cute and funny-”

His shoulders started to shake; a small, stuttering gasp escaped him and you kept him tight against you.

“-and loving and determined and honest... and you will find someone who sees all of that stuff in you and will you love for it and they won’t make you feel like shit and they won’t care if you haven’t showered for a week and they will take care of you and-”

Yoongi brought his legs up, curling himself into a ball as tightly as he could.

“-they will love you and love you and love you, even when you don’t love yourself, even when you do. All the time. Always.”

You didn’t know what more to say, didn’t know if he was even listening anymore, if he could hear you. You held him tight and felt him cry as much as you heard him. His body shook and shook yours with it. You tried not to cry as he cried. You had to keep it together. You were done falling apart. But your heart felt so full and so broken. You weren’t used to being this person. You were Yoongi. You were always the one held, not the one holding.

You thought about your ex, holding you like this, every day, taking care of you, picking up after you, picking you up. You had always been grateful to him, but you hadn’t appreciated just exactly what it was he was doing for you; you didn’t have the wherewithal, the capacity for it at the time. But now you were here, doing what he had done, feeling how he had felt. It was overwhelming. It was an epiphany, a sad, tragic kind of epiphany that made your stomach swoop and your breathing hitch. You wished, intensely, for a moment that you could talk to him, tell him, thank him.

You also wished desperately that you weren’t there. That this wasn’t happening. That you hadn’t been right. You wished that you had shown up and Yoongi had been here, tired, working, grumpy, anything but this. You wished that he had been annoyed with you, told you off, told you get out. You would’ve taken that rejection over this. You would’ve taken almost anything over this. You knew Yoongi’s pain because it was your own and, more than anything, you wished that he didn’t. All this time you had been insisting that you were the same, that you understood each other, that you had a connection. And now you wished you’d been wrong.

* * *

He stopped crying. Eventually, at some point. You were watching the light in the room change as the sun finally disappeared, as the summer night came down, and the full moon rose. His breathing settled, his body stilled. He pulled the blanket back down, uncovering the top of his head. You waited for him to speak.

“I want to have a shower.”

His voice was thick, wavering.

“You’re not just trying to get away from me?”

He shook his head.

“No, I want to.”

He swiped a hand over his face, wiping away his tears, and you felt his body shift as he went to sit up. You let him this time. He didn’t look at you as he stood and walked towards the bathroom.

“I’ll be waiting,” you called after him. “You’re not allowed to drown yourself in there! I’ll check!”

You watched the door shut and listened for the sound of the shower running. Then you stood yourself and decided to clean the apartment. You tidied, sorted recycling, threw out the rubbish, wiped down the sides, swept the floors. You surveyed your clean kingdom and noticed the time. You noticed the silence in the apartment. The shower wasn’t running. You didn’t know when it had stopped.

You decided to give him five minutes. Five minutes and then you’d check on him.

“Yoongi!” you called from the bathroom door. “Are you coming out? The shower hasn’t been running. If you don’t come out in five minutes, I’m going t-“

The door opened a crack.

“I-“ he started and then stopped.

You waited.

“I don’t have any clothes in here.”

“Oh, do you want me to get you some?”

You could just see his eyes through the crack in the door, head at an angle as he held his body out of view. He shook his head.

“Can you… just…”

Quick to catch on for once in your life, you turned around, you faced the wall, you closed your eyes and, for good measure, you covered them with your hands.

“Ok,” you called.

You felt the steam pour out as the door opened and you stayed stock still until you heard his bedroom door open and then shut. You returned to the sofa to wait for him. He emerged, dressed in thin pyjama trousers and a long-sleeved top, with a towel in his hand, squeezing out his wet hair.

“Do you want me to plait it for you?” you offered.

He looked at you in confusion.

“What?”

“I can plait your hair if you want. You can get away with it being dirtier if it’s plaited and you can just keep them in, sleep with them and stuff, so they’re low maintenance. I do it all the time. No one has to know you haven’t showered for five days if you’ve got plaits in.”

“Is that why people style their hair like that? Because it’s dirty?”

“Can’t speak for anyone else, but for me, yeah. You know I’m having a bad time if I’ve plaited my hair.” You laughed and almost choked on it when he smiled back at you; the relief resounded in your chest.

He looked like he was considering it and shook his head.

“Great, in that case, I have another question for you.”

You walked back over to the kitchen, opened the door of the cupboard under the sink and pulled out a half-empty bag of cat food.

“Why do you have this?” you asked and, once again, Yoongi looked at you in confusion.

“It’s for my cat.”

“You don’t have a cat.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t! I’ve been here before! I didn’t see a cat!”

He shrugged and walked back to his bedroom; he opened the door and pointed vaguely at the bed. You stood next to him and saw a soft, black ellipse in the middle of the bed.

“That’s your cat?”

He nodded.

“I don’t understand. How can you have a cat? I’ve never seen it! I was here for ages!”

He shrugged.

“That’s her spot. You can say hello if you want.”

“What’s her name?”

“Cherry.”

You walked into the bedroom and said hello, tentatively reaching out to stroke her. Up close, you saw she wasn’t black—not quite—but a deep, dark brown; her fur was thick and soft as you ran your fingers through it. She uncurled herself and pushed her head into your hand, rubbing against it. Her purr was loud and deep. Yoongi joined you and scooped her up in his arms. She purred louder.

“Oh, do you like that, huh?” you asked her, your voice automatically high-pitched, soft, baby-ish. “Like being held by Daddy?”

Yoongi made a noise of protest.

“Please don’t call me ‘Daddy’ to my cat.”

“Why not? Oh my god, are you a daddy guy? Do you like that shit?”

“No! No… I just… It’s weird. She’s my cat.”

“Oh, Cherry,” you cooed, reverting to your baby voice, scratching her head. “Daddy doesn’t like it when you call him that, huh?”

“Don’t!” He was whining and laughing and you pressed on.

“But you like it when Daddy holds you, right? You like living with Daddy? You-“

“Oh my god, I regret everything!” He lay Cherry back on the bed and laughed. “I should never have let you meet her.”

“You’re probably right about that. Daddy.”

His face glowed warm and pink as he screwed his face up.

“Don’t!”

“Ok, I promise. No more ‘Daddy’.”

You held your little finger out to him and he hooked it in his own.

“Thank you.”

You shrugged.

“Sure.”

“For-… I mean, for coming... I... I appreciate it.”

“Oh. Sure. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to; you did say you were going to change your door codes.”

He chuckled, his eyebrows raised. You dropped backwards onto the edge of his bed and sat looking up at him.

“I had forgotten about that.”

“Just as well. I didn’t... I didn’t know if you’d want me to come; you may have noticed I kind of just get into people’s business. Teddy told me not to force my friendship on you-”

“It’s not forced,” he interrupted you, quickly, looking at you, blinking, looking away.

“Good. I mean, we broken-hearted losers have to stick together, right?”

He shook his head with a frown and dropped down next to you.

“I don’t think you’re a loser. And I don’t- I think... I don’t know if I am broken-hearted. Not over her anyway. It was... Even before she started cheating on me, I don’t know how real it was, if I was actually happy. I don’t... I don’t know how I didn’t notice that she didn’t make me happy. I’m not broken-hearted but I am stupid.”

You placed your hand over his and gave it a squeeze, then let go.

“Not stupid. In love.”

“Same thing.”

“Maybe sometimes, but not always. Love is good.”

You glanced over and he held your gaze. You lost count of the seconds ticking away between you; he didn’t look away so neither could you. You were arrested, held, your mind stalled; you wanted to break the silence but couldn’t think how to.

“I think,” he said finally. Then he sighed and turned away. “I think I love the wrong people.” He flopped backwards, lying on the bed with his arms flung over his head.

You twisted from your seated position to look at him.

“You only have to love the right one once, though, right?”

He looked at you and your eyes flicked elsewhere.

“But how do you know they’re the right one?”

"I don’t know; haven’t found ’em yet. I’ll let you know when I do.”

He hummed and the silence fell over you again. You looked at the cat, curled up tight next to the pillow and were glad Yoongi had her. She couldn’t cook or clean or talk, but she was there and happy to see him and at least he wasn’t completely on his own.

“It’s really late,” he said, suddenly, and you jumped.

“Yeah, I should go. Sorry! Overstaying my welcome as always, haha!”

Should you? You had no idea what etiquette would dictate in these circumstances. You weren’t sure what Yoongi wanted you to do. You weren’t sure what you wanted.

“No! That’s not what I meant. I mean… You can-... if you want, you can stay. You don’t have to go.”

You looked at him carefully, trying to work out if he was asking you to stay or trying to be polite. If he wanted you to stay, you didn’t want to leave him. If he wanted you to go, you didn’t want to stay. You felt reasonably confident that he wouldn’t tell you clearly either way. You decided not to bite your tongue—you weren’t very good at it anyway.

“If I leave, are you going to wake up tomorrow?”

He flushed a deep, beetroot red and blinked, his mouth opening and closing silently.

“Yes,” he answered, hoarsely.

You held your hand out, little finger raised.

“Promise me.”

He slowly raised his own hand and hooked his pinky with yours.

“If I wake up tomorrow and you’re dead, I really will kill you,” you told him, deadly serious.

He tried a grin which only half worked and nodded.

“I’ll wake up.”

“Good.”

“Will you let me drive you home?”

“What? No! Why? It’s fine! You don’t have to do that!”

“It’s late-”

“Subway’s still running-”

“No, you shouldn’t get the subway by yourself this la-”

“I’ll be fine! I’ve done it before! It’s really fi-”

“Let me at least get you a taxi.”

“You really don’t have to do that.”

“Too late,” he said, walking out to the living room and picking up his phone. “I’m already doing it.”

“You did not have to do that,” you repeated.

He shrugged.

“Least I could do. Will you please text me when you get home?”

“Will you text me in the morning?”

He nodded and you nodded back. He held your gaze like a silent promise and you nodded again. He looked tired and pale. He still looked sad. A little bit lost. A little bit broken. A lot like you.

His phone buzzed, breaking the tension of the moment, alerting him that the car was nearby.

He walked you to the door and you pulled him into a tight hug. You hadn’t expected him to, but he held you just as tight, squeezing the air from your lungs. You had second thoughts about leaving.

“I meant what I said. I will kill you-”

“Not if I kill myself first!”

You gasped and choked and laughed and almost sobbed.

“I’m joking,” he said.

“I know,” you whispered back, your voice strangled, your heart thudding erratically against your ribs. You knew you were going to cry all the way home and you needed it to not start until Yoongi’s door was closed and you were on the other side of it. “You’ve already promised.”

You held on longer than you really meant to. You pulled back slowly and kept your hands on his shoulders.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

He nodded.

* * *

[00:58] You: Made it home!

[06:37] Yoongi: it’s morning

[06:37] Yoongi: I woke up

Chapter Two | Masterlist | Chapter Four

Tag list: @e-cm, @chimmisbae, @purplewhalewrites, @idkjustlovingbts @miriamxsworld

#yoongi x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #bts x reader #bts fic #bts angst #suga x reader #suga fic

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realistically-shifting · 3 months

Text

My Luxury Apartment- General Script

I script this apartment complex in most of my DRs and my Waiting Room. Features like the room style change based on what reality the script is for, but the rest generally stays the same. This is the complex I shifted to the first time, all the things I would’ve enjoyed if I stayed longer.

Exterior: At the back of the complex, there’s a playground with equipment for adults too. The playground equipment can handle adult bodies using it.

Basement level: At the basement level, there are storage lockers for the tenants of the apartment, a parking garage, a shop, and a convenience store. The convenience store carries a brand of microwave dinners that has a wide variety of options, and it includes many cultural dishes from various cultures. For example, one of the frozen dinner sets includes collard greens cooked with smoked ham hocks and black eyes peas, fried catfish, baked mac and cheese, and a little cup of banana pudding or candied yams. The store sells other easy to make food items, such as roux cubes for curry and egusi stew. There is also a laundromat down there, for residents that don’t have personal machines.

First floor: The first floor has the lobby of the apartment building, an indoor pool and hot tub for the residents and their guests, and a hot pot restaurant. Residents get a discount at the restaurant, but it’s open to the public. It also has a gym that holds exercise, dance, and yoga classes.

Second floor: There’s a small doctor’s clinic on this floor, staffed by several nurses, two pediatricians, a mental health counselor, and a few physicians. Here, residents (and our guests) can receive regular checkups, emergency aid, help with medical treatments such as dialysis, etc. Attached to the clinic is a small pharmacy where you can get cold medicines, common emergency medicines like epipens and inhalers, etc. There’s also a daycare on the other side of the building, and between them is the complex spa. The spa has masseurs trained in neuromuscular massage therapy.

Third floor: A work space with computers for public use, recreational room that doubles as a movie theater with a larger screen, and an additional rec room with video game consoles, VR gaming space, and a small cafe. The first rec room is popular with older residents, while the second is more popular with the teenage residents.

Penthouse: My penthouse apartment also has a balcony with seating, two guest bedrooms each with its own 3/4 bathroom, and a walk-in storage closet.

Rooftop: On top of the apartment complex is a community garden and an observatory. There are gardeners that maintain most of the plots, but private plots must be privately managed.

Safety features: Along with normal safety features, all the windows and doors on the first and second floor, plus parking garage, have metal shutters that can be lowered during emergencies. The entire building also has an advanced fire suppression system, air purifiers, and an extensive bunker below the parking garage. Each apartment, or at least the penthouses, have security doors (thick wooden doors with metal plates in the middle and higher quality locks). All the safety features have their own failsafes.

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naughtyneganjdm · 1 year

Text

Everything and More

Summary: Joel, Negan and Y/N end up locked in an apartment together on the top floor of a building after a supplies run gets infiltrated by infected. Together they hide out waiting for the opportunity to escape, but their time together leads to a hot, sexual moment between the three of them.

Characters: Joel Miller (The Last of Us), Negan (The Walking Dead), the reader (OC, third person), etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44550907

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, smut, threesome, oral (male and female receiving), DP, etc.

Notes: Someone requested me to do a filthy one shot threesome fic with Pedro’s Joel Miller and Negan. So here it is. Hope you like it. This is more so centered around The Last of Us universe. Y/N means your name or whatever name you want to put in there. (Credit for gifs: @joelmjller & @jdmorganz

There was no time to think. All you could do was react. Every decision was not calculated. It was finding a way out without getting killed. What had been a routine supplies run had been split up when a herd of runners and clickers had divided the group in attempts to find safety. Y/N had come incredibly close to getting caught by one of the runners but was saved by one of the newer people that had just been accepted by Jackson. Negan was someone she had interacted with a few times before, but they weren’t severely close friends and yet…he saved her life. Negan had grabbed a hold of her and tried to lead her to safety, but it felt like at every corner there was a clicker that was there to cut them off. They were surrounded. It had taken the calling out of a familiar voice that beckoned the two of them to an apartment building to get them away from the infected. It was a questionable decision to lock yourself into a building, but when Joel Miller was leading you, you followed.

When they got into the building, it smelled of mildew and it was decaying in certain areas that had been hit with significant water damage. There were still copious amounts of stalkers and runners that followed after them which led to a chase up the stairwell. Once they got to the top floor, Joel had led them to a room at the end of the hallway. When they got in, he immediately slammed the door shut.

“Help me with this,” Joel demanded of Negan and Negan obliged while they pushed a large wardrobe closet in front of the door. Y/N was quick to search the apartment they had locked themselves in, thankful that there was no infected.

The sound of fists hitting the door on the other end were heard making all three of them jump back. Their breathing was loud and uneven. Negan bent over, bracing his hands on his thighs while he panted, the color in his cheeks showing how much the chase had gotten to him. Joel rest his back against the pushed over wardrobe. Seeing the two of them taking a moment to catch their breaths gave Y/N the okay to take a moment to relax herself. Heading over toward the corner of the apartment they had trapped themselves in, she slid down at took a seat on the floor. Her heart was hammering in her chest, her body numb from the adrenaline that had kicked in when they were being chased.

“The hell was that?” Negan heard the roar of something in the distance that made them all jump. Heading toward one of the windows, Negan wiped at the dust that was on it to stare down below. He could see members of their group running through the streets down below in attempts to get away from the infected. Crashing was heard and something broke through one of the walls of a building, leaving the debris in a crumbling mess around it. Negan’s eyes grew big when he spotted the gigantic, bloated infected grabbing a hold of one of the unfortunate people. With a nervous sound, he stepped back and away from the window when he saw the person being torn apart with the sheer force of the infected. “What the fuck? The hell is that?”

“Where have you been? You never seen a bloater?” Joel moved in beside Negan who looked between Joel and the window.

“Where I’m from, the infected aren’t quite fucking like…that,” Negan pointed down toward the monstrous version of what could happen from the infection.

“You wanna stay away from those. One of those gets ahold of you, you aren’t getting away,” Joel seemed cold to the death of one of their own down below, his breathing becoming steadied while he stood at the window.

“No shit sherlock,” Negan blurt out making Y/N smirk at his bluntness when he held his hand up to point toward the street down below. “If I saw that thing, the first thing that crossed my mind wouldn’t be…gee, I wanna get caught by that over bloated shit monster just so I can become a heated pile of fresh guts after getting ripped in half.”

The glare that Joel gave Negan showed that he disapproved of Negan’s smartass attitude and he shrugged, “So what do we do from here Mr. Grumpy Pants?”

“Don’t call me that,” Joel warned in his thick Texan accent, his eyebrow arching and his jaw flexing when he looked between Negan and Y/N. Folding his arms out in front of his chest, Joel looked down to see that the building was still surrounded by the infected. The sounds of the infected that chased them outside the door still echoed and he huffed. “I don’t know.”

“You led us up here and you don’t know?” Negan repeated watching Joel pace the apartment, heading over toward the doors that led to a balcony. Stepping out on the balcony, Joel surveyed the area before walking back into the apartment. “Well?”

“Give me a minute damn it,” Joel snarled making Negan bob his head in almost a mocking way before he moved over to sit down beside Y/N where she was. “I’ve got my rifle, but I don’t have enough bullets to get us out of here. Do either one of you have anything.”

“I’ve got a bat. It’s good for up close encounters, but other than that it’s pretty much useless in here,” Negan pointed over toward where he had dropped his bat in the corner, throwing his hands up in the air. Looking to Y/N he saw the way she looked just as lost at the two of them. “What about you?”

“I’ve got a handgun,” she reached for it to hold it out for Joel to look at it. “I don’t think it has a full clip in it.”

“Damn it,” Joel cussed out, throwing his hands up in the air before resting them at his hips. It looked like he was deep in thought while he tried to think of something to do. “The only thing we can do at this point is wait. I have Ellie waiting for me back in Jackson, we can’t be stuck here.”

“All of us have lives waiting for us genius. None of us want to be stuck here,” Negan reminded Joel with a huff making Joel raise his head up to glare out at Negan again.

“I don’t think anyone will come back up for us,” Y/N spoke up, standing up from the ground to head over to the window to look down. “It’s too dangerous. The only way we’re getting out of here is on our own. We can’t count on anyone else, they are too focused on getting out of here. We all know the rules. We don’t go back if it’s too dangerous.”

“Who came up with those rules?” Negan spoke up making Y/N look to Joel who simply huffed and Negan groaned. “You really are a genius. Thanks for that.”

“The only thing we can do is wait it out,” Joel announced, throwing his hand about in a circling motion. “Let’s check out the apartment. See what we can find. If we’re going to be stuck here for a while, hopefully there is something stashed. This place seems cleaner than most, so someone had to be here recently.”

“Sure thing,” Y/N’s eyes connected with Joel’s. This was the first time she had really ever been near Joel. She had admired him from afar, but she had never really had the nerve to go up to him and talk to him. People warned her that he could be short and cold to others and she never wanted to get on his bad side. She was newer and that’s why she likely had gotten to know Negan more. He was someone that was newer than her in the community so they had something to bond over there. Negan headed off to the bedroom area, Joel went for the kitchen and she went to the bathroom. In the bathroom she was able to find some water that someone had stored away in there along with some medical supplies. Heading back into the kitchen she saw Joel pulling out some things to set on the table to take inventory of what they had. “Anything good?”

“There’s a bit. It makes me question what happened to the person that was here before,” Joel pointed toward the table to show the non-perishables that were on top of it. “There’s a whole lot of old soda, water bottles and beer stashed as well. Kinda seems like he was a hoarder.”

“Sounds like he was looking for a party,” Negan spoke up, making the both of them flinch since he had come up on them without them hearing him. “I got nothing in the bedroom, unless you are looking to make some kind of porno here and have a good ole’ time. Person has endless amounts of expired condoms and lube in the drawers beside the bed. As well as some really dried out weed. So unless the two of you are looking to screw until we leave here…”

“Enough,” Joel grumbled under his breath making Negan snicker before going to the table to grab one of the bottles of soda that was there. Negan twisted off the cap and took a long swig of the drink, letting out a hiss when he pulled it away from his lips. “Don’t you think we should make sure we have enough supplies before you go drinking down things.”

“You said the cabinets were full of beer and soda. I think it’s safe to say we are fine,” Negan waved his hand about before holding the soda out toward Y/N. “It’s flat, but it’s good enough. You want a sip?”

Accepting the drink from Negan, she took a drink and watched him head over toward the window again to scope things out. Taking a big swallow of the drink, she handed it over to Joel and saw his chocolate brown eyes surveying her over when she offered it to him. It seemed like he wanted to deny the offer before he finally accepted to drink some, “I found a stash of water in the bathroom. I’m assuming the person that was here before used it to keep himself clean.”

“Is anyone hungry?” Joel questioned looking down at the food that they had available to them. It ranged from canned meat, fruit and vegetables to things like expired chips, cheese balls and other quick snacks. Both Negan and Y/N shook their heads before Joel cautiously set his rifle aside. “Then the best thing we can do is kill time. Wait it out until they get lured by something else.”

“And how do you expect us to do that?” Y/N looked to Joel for some kind of answer.

“Sleep?” Joel shrugged his shoulders making Negan snort.

“There’s one bed tiger,” Negan alerted the both of them with a shake of his head.

“Y/N can take the bed, you and I can switch out on the couch. I’ll take watch first and then you can,” Joel suggested making Negan smirk before heading over toward the couch that was there to drop down on top of it. With a huff, Negan kicked his feet up and rest back like Joel instructed. Joel gave Y/N a look and a simple nod. Y/N wanted to talk it out with Joel, but instead went to the bed like he instructed to lay down. Leaving the door open, she could see Negan stretched out on the couch staring out at her while she laid there. In the corner she could see Joel standing by the window and she knew that it would be hard to force herself to sleep after what they had been through. The sound of the infected still echoed throughout the apartment and it made it hard to want to relax.

“Do you wanna play a game of twenty questions to get to know one another better? Pass the time?” Negan blurt out making Joel grumble under his breath in disgust after they had been in silence so long. “You really are Mr. Grumpy Pants, aren’t you? We’re not falling asleep, I just thought it would give us something to do.”

“Then get up and I’ll rest while you watch,” Joel threw his hand about and Negan simply shrugged before pulling himself up gradually from the couch. Joel pushed through Negan to get onto the couch and it made Negan let out a tense breath before nodding and heading over toward the window.

It didn’t take long for Joel to fall asleep, but Y/N couldn’t force it. Her body was still on a high from all the adrenaline it had mustered up to get away from that chase. Getting up from the bed, she headed into the living room to see Negan glance over at her from where he was standing by the window. Stepping in beside him, she let out a sigh and cleared her throat, “I never thanked you.”

“For what?” Negan breathed out, his bright hazel eyes gazing over her while she stood close to him.

“For saving my life,” she explained, her face scrunching up thinking that it must have been obvious as to why. Negan smirked and looked down, his long eyelashes fluttering when he nodded. “You could have just left me. You risked yourself in order to save me. I may be one of those down there right now if it wasn’t for you,” she nodded at the window seeing that even in the darkness, they could still see the movement of the infected down on the streets, “So thank you.”

“Sure thing,” Negan gave her a wink, letting out a long sigh.

“You wanna play that twenty questions?” she suggested with a shrug of her shoulders making him sigh and nod his head once. They both got comfortable on the floor together, resting against the wall while the two of them could talk. Most of the night they spent just talking about random things. They didn’t want to talk about the situation they were in right now or the infected. It was just a case of getting to know someone and talk about things without having the fear of the outside world to bother them. Near morning with the sun starting to rise, Joel’s breathing changed and he almost gasped when he woke up. “Hey.”

“You mumble in your sleep,” Negan informed Joel hearing Joel grumble something under his breath while taking time to gather himself.

“Did the two of you stay awake all night?” Joel inquired, lifting his head up from the arm of the chair where it was resting.

“We just talked,” Y/N explained watching Joel roll his eyes and swallow down hard. “What?”

“We’re never going to get out of here if the infected continue to hear us,” Joel reminded them seeing the way that the color drained from Y/N’s face.

“We were just whispering,” Negan defended hearing Joel groan when he pulled himself up into a seated position. When Joel stood up, he waved his hand for Negan to get up to help him. Joel reached for the wardrobe and Negan tipped his head to the side. “What are we doing?”

“Let’s get this up and check to see if they are still out there. I’ll hold onto this and you can go check,” Joel instructed making Negan let out a frustrated laugh before shaking his head. “Would you just fucking do it? I have things I need to get back to.”

“So do I! I know you think I’m dispensable, but I have a daughter waiting back for me at Jackson too!” Negan blurt out, his thick eyebrows furrowing when he pointed toward the door.

“You do?” Y/N stammered from where she was seated still on the floor. Negan’s jaw flexed and he nodded before letting out a long sigh. “What about your wife?”

“She…she passed away. That’s how we ended up here. It’s just the two of us, so I can’t go roasting my nuts on an open fire for the infected to enjoy,” Negan snapped at Joel seeing the way that the expression in Joel’s eyes changed learning that Negan was a single father. “I have to get back to her too. I left her with someone I barely even know.”

“She’s going to be okay,” Joel tried to assure Negan with a loud sigh.

“I’ll do it,” Y/N stood up from the ground, rubbing her hands off on her pants. Reaching for her bag that she had dropped when they had gotten here, she put it on hoping that they would be able to sneak out after she checked the area. “I have nothing to go home to. It makes the most sense for me to go and look. If something happens, then you two can close things back up.”

“I don’t think…” Joel began watching her reach for the rifle that he had placed against the wall. Y/N handed it over to him and he tipped his head to the side.

“Just cover me. I’m trusting you,” she whispered, moving for the door watching Negan’s worried eyes on her and she shook her head to assure him that everything would be okay. “Negan, pull back the wardrobe, Joel just keep me covered.”

“You got it,” Joel gave her a nod hearing Negan groan when he pulled up the wardrobe. Taking a deep breath, she pulled open the door to see that the infected were no longer waiting in the hallways. Joel was standing at the doorway, with his rifle ready. Holding back a nervous breath, she continued her way down the hallway toward the stairway tiptoeing as quietly as she could. With a gasp, she was shocked to see that the infected were still lined up on the stairs. One of them heard her and it drew more to react. Turning on her heel, she tried to run back down the long hallway, hitting the ground hard when one grabbed a hold of her foot. A loud shot was heard when the infected fell on top of her. Joel had got it, but more were coming. Trying to use her energy, she pushed at the infected with a wince hearing the sounds of the others closing in. Just right when they were about to reach her, she felt a force grabbing a hold of her. Looking back, she could see that it was Joel pulling her back by her bag that was over her shoulders. Negan was in the doorway with the rifle, shooting the infected that were approaching them. “I’ve got you.”

Running back to the apartment, she fell forward with Joel once they hit the room. With a slam, Negan shut the door and with all his might pushed the wardrobe back in front of the door. On the ground of the apartment, Y/N was laid out over Joel who was catching his breath underneath her. Placing her hand in over the blue button down shirt that he was wearing, she braced herself and rolled onto her back beside him.

“I think it’s safe to say those fuckers aren’t gone,” Negan addressed setting the gun back down while Joel groaned out from where he was on the ground.

“We need to check to make sure neither of us was infected,” it was the first thing Joel said making Negan roll his eyes. After taking some time to gather themselves, Joel got up and they headed toward the bathroom. Negan stayed in the living room when Y/N felt a sense of panic while Joel was looking her over. “Did you get bit or have any scratches?”

“No,” she answered with a shake of her head, “at least…I don’t think so.”

“What are you doing?” Joel watch her unbuttoning her shirt and she looked down at it. A bit of color flooded into his tan colored flesh when she started pulling it from her arms. Trying to look away, Joel knew that she was in her bra, but he was attempting to give her some kind of privacy.

“I shouldn’t risk it, right? You shot it and it fell on top of me. There are other shirts here I can put on,” she pointed out, looking over her shoulder in the mirror. With a wince, she could see that there was a red mark left on her from where she had hit the ground hard. “That’s going to bruise.”

“Probably,” Joel reached out to brush his fingers in over her shoulder, stepping in closer to her to examine the area. “You’re brave.”

“Or stupid,” she teased realizing how close the two of them were standing next to each other. It took her breath away being this close to Joel. She was already breathless from what happened and her heart was pounding away. But being this close to Joel in this situation made her hotter than she should have been. “I’m sorry.”

“About?” Joel smirked noticing the way she forced herself to look away from him.

“I’m not going to lie, I…” she bit back a breath noticing the way that Joel’s rough fingertips caressed down over the side of her bare arm. “I am incredibly attracted to you Joel. I have been since I first came to Jackson. I just was told I should leave you alone because you don’t…like people.”

“I don’t…” Joel breathed out, his eyebrows furrowing when she looked up at him with big eyes. It seemed like it finally occurred to him what she just said when she nodded. “You like me?”

“I do,” she confessed with a bit of a nod, a lump developing in her throat when she didn’t know how to respond.

“But Negan…” Joel pointed in the direction where they left Negan and she smirked. “I thought you were attracted to him.”

“I am. You both are very good looking men and you both have saved my life in the last twenty-four hours,” she was honest, looking back toward the door that they had closed knowing that Negan was on the other side of it. “I just saw and met you first.”

“Oh,” Joel was silent, deep in contemplation and it made her immediately panic upon saying what she did.

“I’m sorry. Just…forget what I said,” she begged of him going to move around him, but the roughness of his hands sliding in over her bare shoulders was felt to keep her in place. “I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry. That was so stupid.”

“Hey,” Joel spoke softly, his eyelashes fluttering when he tipped his head to the side to look her over. “You didn’t check me to make sure I wasn’t bitten or…anything.”

“Oh,” she felt her cheeks flush over knowing that Joel wasn’t near any of the infected when he came to grab her, but she went with it. Reaching for his hands, she held them in hers and delicately traced over them. There were healing marks on them from where she assumed he may have hit someone in the past. Clearing her throat, she dragged her fingers further up his arms tracing over the lengths of them. Shakily, she reached for his shirt and pulled open the buttons one by one. Joel’s eyes were watching her closely when she revealed his torso to her. Licking her lips, she gazed over his torso noticing the small patch of hair that was below his belly button and it made her smile. Joel’s center was a bit soft with age, but she thought he looked incredible. Seeing the scar that was left over his body, she outstretched her hand to touch the puckered flesh making Joel lower his head. He seemed ashamed of the mark, but she shook her head. “You’re beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Joel repeated in his southern drawl, reaching his right hand up to palm in over the side of her face. “You’re beautiful. I don’t know about me.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” she offered up, sliding her palms in over the lengths of his torso. Grazing her hand in over his shoulder, her fingers sank into his graying hair caressing her fingertips over his scalp. It made Joel close his eyes and take in a sharp breath. Using her other hand, she swept her fingertips in over Joel’s jawline enjoying the silver flecks of hair that were in his facial hair.

“Hey guys…” Negan opened the door making Joel immediately pull back, his back hitting the wall behind him. With an amused expression, Negan looked between the two of them and smiled. It seemed to entertain him that they were both so close. “Shit, I didn’t mean to interrupt whatever the hell is going on here, I just thought you both should see something.”

“Nothing was going on here,” Joel chided with a quick shake of his head, buttoning his shirt back up. Joel was eager to put a distance between him and Y/N making things awkward with her standing in her bra before them. “We were just checking each other for bites.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve had someone check me for bites, so I understand if you want me to step back and let you keep looking,” Negan offered, pointing back toward the living room area making Joel roll his eyes and push through both Negan and Y/N to go see whatever it was that Negan was talking about. Instead of following Joel, Negan stared down at Y/N seeing the way she stroked at her bare arms while she stood before him in her bra. Reaching for the dark colored button down shirt that he had over his t-shirt, Negan undid it and then handed the material over to Y/N. Turning on his heel, Negan gave her some space to cover herself up with his shirt. When she reached out to touch his shoulder, Negan looked over at her. “It looks good on you. Sorry, it’s kind of big.”

“Thank you,” she felt disappointed with the way that Joel reacted to things. Why would it have mattered if Negan saw the two of them close? It seemed like he was embarrassed to be seen with Y/N like that and it made her feel bad.

“You okay?” Negan confirmed and she gave him a single nod. “You sure?”

“I am,” she whispered giving him a half smile before following him out into the living room.

“Hey!” she heard Joel’s voice calling out when he headed over to the balcony area of the apartment. “Up here!”

“What is it?” Y/N followed Joel out onto the balcony seeing the group of people that were with them that had clearly started to escape. Doing her best, she tried to get the attention of the group as well, waving her hands back and forth while they screamed for them. It was a small group, but they hoped that they would be able to see them so they could gather help to get them out of there.

“Run!” Negan’s voice was heard from afar making Joel huff out. They were trying to get help and it seemed like Negan was attempting to do the opposite. “Run! Get out of here!”

“What are you doing?” Joel scoffed seeing Negan run from the window where he was standing to the balcony with them. They had caught the attention of the group that was stories below and they had stopped.

“Get the fuck out of here! Go!” Negan hollered, pointing in the direction of a group of clickers that were headed toward them. They outnumbered the group by far and Negan continued to try to get them to notice. “They are going to get swarmed Joel!”

“Keep going!” Joel motioned the group to go, confusing the few people that were there. Noticing that more infected were coming in from behind, Joel did his best to scream and point for them to run. Y/N did her best to help as well, but by the time the group realized what was happening, it was too late. Throwing his hands up in the air in defeat, Joel entered the apartment again and kicked over the stool that was near the counter. “Son of a bitch.”

An upset sound fell from Y/N and Negan attempted to comfort her after she witnessed what happened to the people that were there. Joel was angry. There was part of him that felt like it was his fault for making the noise and drawing the attention.

“We’re going to be fucking stuck here forever at this point,” Joel slammed his hand into something else before going over toward the couch to drop down on top of it.

For hours, they were silent. Not saying anything between them. They had all ate and drank something, but still they stayed quiet. Joel had eventually fallen asleep on the couch, Negan was sitting in the corner and after a while, she just got up and moved toward the bedroom for the bed. It took a while, but eventually Negan moved to the door and stood in the doorway.

“You wanna talk?” Negan offered up seeing her move in the bed and pat the bed beside her. Thinking it over, Negan nodded and then carefully pulled his boots off his feet before laying down beside her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes and no,” Y/N sighed, feeling Negan’s fingers hooking with hers at the center of the bed. It was a very sweet gesture since he clearly picked up on the fact that she was upset. “Am I not appealing?”

“You’re very appealing,” Negan cuddled his head into the pillow that was underneath it seeing the sadness in her eyes. His fingers stroked over the back of her hand while she breathed in shallowly. “I did walk in on something that happened between the two of you, didn’t I?”

“No. It was nothing,” she was honest knowing that all she had done with Joel was touch each other in a very innocent way. It got them both breathing heavy, but it was nothing more than that. “I’d like to say that it was something, but it was nothing.”

“You like him, huh?” Negan stammered, his long eyelashes fluttering while his hazel eyes were hooked on hers. It seemed like maybe she didn’t want to answer his question and Negan simply shrugged. “It’s okay. He’s a good-looking guy. I don’t blame you.”

“Oh, is there something potentially going on between the two of you that I should know about?” she chuckled under her breath making Negan dramatically roll his eyes. “You both are good looking guys. I’m just surprised you’re comfortable enough to say something like that.”

“Eh, I can find beauty in just about anything,” Negan informed her with a bounce of his eyebrows. “Men, women, whatever. Sexy is sexy.”

“Impressive Mr. Smith,” she mused feeling his fingers squeezing tightly around hers before he let out a small laugh. “It’s incredibly hard because I’m stuck in this apartment with two men that are incredibly good looking that I’m extremely attracted to.”

“Oh, that must be really hard for you,” Negan snorted, cuddling his head in closer to her hand before placing a kiss over the back of her hand. The stubble from his short beard tickled at her flesh making her smile. “I didn’t realize you were such a badass. What you pulled earlier was intense.”

“It made sense for me to go. Joel has Ellie and you have your daughter,” she recalled what the two of them had said and she actually found herself charmed with Negan. He really put on a show when he was around a group of people, but alone with her, he was rather sweet. “How old is your daughter?”

“Four,” he answered with a heavy sigh, his eyes filled with sadness. “I think you’d really like her. She’s cute as hell. Big ass dimples. Wicked sense of humor for a little one.”

“With her being your child, I expect nothing less,” she winked making Negan smile before tipping his head down. “What happened to her mother?”

“She got sick about a year after she had our daughter,” Negan explained, visibly trying to keep it together when he talked about his past. “Sometimes I feel like I’m a jinx. My first wife died of cancer and my second wife died. It makes me worry about my daughter. I’m stuck here and God knows if she is okay. I came on this stupid trip to try to prove I could be trusted and look where I’m at. Stuck in this apartment while she is with some stranger. Fucking Tommy. Made me feel all out of place and shit.”

“Everything is going to be okay. Tommy and Maria will make sure that your daughter is safe,” she could see that Negan was getting emotional about things and she was trying to comfort him. “You’re going to get out of here and you’re going to get back to her. I promise you that.”

“We’re all going to get out of here,” Negan gave her a wink, getting comfortable in the bed beside her. “You’re very good looking too by the way. Don’t ever sell yourself short because Mr. Grumpy Pants doesn’t know how to handle his feelings. If I was in his position, I would have never ran away from you like that.”

“Oh?” she muttered making him smile, drawing attention to his incredible dimples. “Thank you. I feel like you’re being nice to me though.”

“No,” Negan shook his head, crawling in closer to Y/N with the warmth of his breath hovering in over hers. “I think I’m incredibly jealous of Joel. That’s what I think.”

“You’re just as attractive as he is. I told him that I was attracted to you too,” she placed her hand in over the center of Negan’s chest, tracing her fingertips over the material of the t-shirt he was wearing. “I’m wearing your clothes you know.”

“It looks better on you too,” Negan’s nose wrinkled, gazing down to look at the shirt she was still wearing and he let out an amused breath. When his head lifted, he felt her fingers curling around the side of his neck to pull him forward. Bringing their lips together, Y/N kissed Negan catching him slightly off guard. It took him a minute to gather himself before he started kissing her back. With the soft caress of his rough lips over hers, she found herself falling further and further into the moment. Every passing second had the kiss growing stronger and she slid her hand up over Negan’s shoulders toward his hair to grab a firm hold of his graying hair. This time she was being bold because Joel had blown her off so easily previously. “That was nice.”

“It was,” she breathed against his lips, pressing faint kisses over his lips while he was still close to her. “You mean what you said? You find me attractive?”

“Very much so,” Negan nodded, growling when he felt her faintly nipping at his bottom lip. Caressing up and over her hips, Negan’s hand settled at the side of her body. There was something in the way that Negan looked at her that made her feel special. With the way his hazel eyes were locked on hers, she felt wanted and it took her breath away. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“We’re just kissing,” she delicately dragged her bottom lip across his making him hum before seductively sweeping his tongue over his bottom lip. “There is nothing wrong with that.”

“Okay,” Negan responded, claiming her mouth in a passionate kiss that took her breath away. Parting her lips, she felt the gentle flick of Negan’s tongue against hers and it drew chills down her spine. Pulling herself in closer to him, she pressed their bodies together and made him pull back. His breath was warm against her lips when she palmed down over his back before squeezing at his small bottom making him groan into her mouth. “What about Joel?”

“What about Joel?” she felt Negan crawling in over her, a gasp falling from her throat when he grabbed her wrists and pinned them down on the bed beside her head. It wasn’t painful, but it was forceful enough to make a point, but she liked it. “You saw the way he reacted earlier.”

“Fair enough,” Negan smirked drawing attention to his dimples again making her smile. Negan had a contagious smile that could make anyone smile in return. Lifting her head up, she felt him hovering his lips over hers in a teasing fashion and it made her pout. “You’re adorable. You know that?”

“You’re mean,” she retorted making a rumble of a laugh fall from his throat before he closed the distance between them to give her what she wanted bringing their lips together. Over and over again they kissed, taking their time to get comfortable with one another. Once they seemed open to things, Negan softly bucked his hips up against hers making her mewl out against his lips. “God…”

“Is this okay?” Negan asked for her permission when she lifted her head up to watch him faintly rubbing himself up against her, causing just enough friction to tease her leaving her wanting more. Arching her hips up, she tried to meet the roll of his hips against hers before grasping tightly to his hair to hook her fingers into it. When Negan’s tongue brushed between her lips again, she faintly sucked at it enjoying the way it felt. It had been so long since she had been with someone like this and she was thankful for it. A groan escaped Negan’s throat when she used the force she had to roll him over onto his back. Crawling in over his hips, she watched Negan brace himself up on his hands. His eyes were hooked on hers with lust and his breathing was loud enough to hear. Just beneath the material of his pants she could feel that he was solid and it made her smile. “I excited you that much, huh?”

“You did,” Negan swallowed down, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips when he adjusted his weight so he could caress his hands over her back in a soothing manner. Closing her eyes, she sucked at her bottom lip when the warmth of Negan’s palms caressed up and over her back. With his rough fingertips making contact with her heated flesh she knew that she was reacting probably too extreme but it had been so long since she had felt the touch of another like this. There was a fire flooding through her veins and Negan knew what he was doing to her. His mouth hovered over the side of her neck making her shudder in his grasps. Finally kissing over the side of her neck, she hooked her fingers into his hair and purred out. With the short stubble teasing against her flesh, she found herself lost in the moment. It seemed like Negan knew the perfect spots to be able to have her react the most. Leaning back, she noticed the nervous expression that Negan gave her making her smile. “Is everything okay?”

“More than okay,” she explained reaching for the buttons in the shirt that he had given her in order to pull apart the material carefully. It made Negan’s lips part, his eyes were heavy with lust when she got the material separated. Taking her time to pull it from her body, she could tell that Negan was in awe of her and it felt good to have someone look at her like that. “How long has it been for you?”

“Quite some time,” Negan grunted letting out an extended sigh when she reached for the back of her bra. Dragging his tongue out over his lips again, his hands centered at her sides before she managed to pull the material off to drop in the bed behind her. “My wife was the last person…”

Cupping Negan’s face in her hands, she stroked over the rough flesh and knew that she had him in the palm of her hand, “You are so beautiful.”

It made her happy to hear that come from someone as good looking as Negan. Lowering her hands, she reached for the bottom of the t-shirt that Negan had on. Pulling it up his body, she stopped when she reached his arms and gave a wiggle of her eyebrows, “Up.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan obliged, lifting his arms up in order to help her get the shirt from his body. Tossing it near her clothes that she disposed of, she couldn’t help but smile taking in the differences between Joel and Negan.

Dark curls of hair covered Negan’s slender torso. Tattoos covered his arms and shoulders with a tattoo over his pectoral muscle that drew her attention. Tracing her fingertips over the tattoo, she found herself lost in Negan’s body when he went back to kiss over the side of her neck. Negan’s large hand settled at the base of her neck while she softly rolled her hips over his making him moan against her flesh. It drew chills down her body and she smiled. Gradually, his lips skimmed down over her collarbone and toward her breasts to pepper unhurried kisses against her flesh. By the time he took her nipple into his mouth, she was a panting mess. Caressing her fingers through Negan’s graying hair, she enjoyed the way that his tongue circled her flesh before sucking faintly at it.

“Lie back,” she put a small amount of pressure into the center of Negan’s chest getting him to drop back against the bed and she reached for the belt buckle keeping his pants together. Pulling it apart, she could see that Negan’s chest was rising and falling repeatedly. When she got done with the belt, she reached for the button in his pants and started to unzip them. Reaching out, Negan’s long fingers curled around her wrist to stop her. “What is it?”

“We can’t have sex,” Negan informed her, licking at his lips and letting out a disappointed breath. “With Joel…”

“He’s asleep,” she pointed back toward the door making Negan let out an uncomfortable laugh. “I don’t get it.”

“You like him,” Negan reminded her and it made her frown.

“I like you too,” she insisted making Negan take in a long shallow breath. “You’re not turned off by me being attracted to both of you, are you?”

“No, of course not,” Negan assured her, leading her to lay on the bed beside him while facing him. “I want you to be sure you want this if it happens. That’s all. Right now your feelings are hurt and I just…I don’t want to take fucking advantage.”

Letting out a disappointed breath, she dropped back on the bed and felt Negan urge her back to him again. His lips claimed hers and she let out a surprised sound when she felt his fingertips sliding down her abdomen to where the button in her pants was. Plucking it open, Negan carefully slid his palm beneath the material making her let out a trembling breath. It was loud enough that it made Negan smirk and lift his free hand up to place his finger over his lips hinting to her that she needed to be quiet, “We can still do things…just…not sex.”

“Negan,” she panted out his name when he palmed in over her warmth. It made her lick her lips and drop her head back. Taking the moment in his hands, Negan lowered his head to pepper kisses over her breasts again. Using his time to pamper her before urging her thighs further apart. A gasp fell from her throat when he carefully pushed one long, slender digit inside of her. Burying her face against the side of his neck, she whimpered while he took his time thrusting his finger inside of her before adding another. “Please…”

“Does that feel good?” Negan confirmed with her seeing the way that she licked her lips and nodded. Kissing back up over her body, Negan couldn’t help but want to kiss her while he did this. It gave them a connection where he could feel everything she was experiencing. With a huff, Negan gazed down to see her hand sinking beneath the material of his pants in search of his rigid manhood. When her fingers wrapped around the shaft of his body, he moaned out and tried to hold back on how much he wanted to be verbal. With ease, she pulled him out of his pants making him let out a shuddering breath when he saw the pleased expression she gave when she saw him. Tracing over the prominent vein over his cock, she found herself in awe of how hard he actually was. “Fuck darlin’…”

Trying to stay quiet, they continued their best to pleasure each other while Negan thrust two of his fingers inside of her and she pumped her hand over his length. They were working together in tempo with each other, trying to cancel out the sounds that they would make with their kisses. Crying out against Negan’s mouth, Y/N noticed her hips shaking and it felt like the world was spinning around her. With his large hands Negan had gotten her to an orgasm in no time. Keeping up with the up and downward movements over Negan’s length, she could feel him bucking his hips up toward her grasp. With a wince Negan kissed her and groaned against her lips. Line after line of his cum poured out in over his lower abdomen and chest making her let out a pleased sound.

“Fuck me…” Negan moaned out, a laugh falling from his throat when he pulled his hand unhurriedly from her pants. Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he took them between his lips and sucked faintly at them. Another pleased sound escaped him before he reached for the tissues that were on the nightstand. Working to clean himself up, Negan crawled back into bed seeing that she was still coming down from the high that he had given her. “Good?”

“For now,” she purred crawling in over Negan’s chest to rest her head against the center of it. The skin to skin contact felt amazing and she loved the warm fuzzy feeling it left her with. “I like you Negan. I like you a lot.”

“Mhmm…” Negan smirked pressing a kiss at the top of her head. “I like you too. Very fucking much.”

Getting relaxed together at the center of the bed, time passed quicker than they expected because they had both fallen asleep. It had been so long since they had found comfort in the arms of another. It wasn’t until the sound of the door slamming against the wall drew them both to wake up jumping. They half expected it to be the infected, but what they saw was Joel standing at the bottom of the bed staring out at him. His hair was a mess and it looked like he may have just woken up himself. But one thing was for certain, he was angry.

“Joel,” she gasped, pulling herself up into a seated position reaching for the shirt that Negan had given her. Forgetting her bra, she pulled the shirt together and could see that Joel’s cheeks had flushed over. Negan was at the other side of the bed pulling his pants together and Joel grumbled something under his breath. “This isn’t…it isn’t what it looks like.”

“It’s really not,” Negan informed Joel with a loud swallow, pulling himself to the edge of the bed.

“You don’t have to explain. Good for the two of you being able to have sex,” Joel blew it off, stepping back and away from the bed showing that he was jealous from what he thought happened. “Who am I to judge?”

“But we didn’t have sex, we just…touched,” Negan answered for them doing his best to get things right as he stood up from the bed. Reaching out to grab a hold of Joel’s wrist, he felt Joel yank him forward and away. “Listen, she likes both you and me…”

“Congratulations,” Joel shrugged his shoulders, his face scrunching up in frustration. Moving back toward the living room, the sound of both Y/N and Negan following him was heard. Dropping down on the couch, Joel stretched out his legs and braced his arm over his thigh and the other against the back of the couch. Joel’s thighs parted when he tipped his head and looked between the two of them. “What do the two of you care what I think?”

“I care about what you think a lot. So much in fact that when you acted like nothing happened between the two of us yesterday…it really bothered me,” she explained to Joel knowing that she did a half assed job at pulling the shirt back together, but she tried. “I really like you, Joel.”

“It didn’t stop you from doing whatever it is you did with him,” Joel pointed in the direction of the shirtless Negan who was gazing between the two of them with a solemn expression. “You obviously like him better.”

“Why can’t she like the both of us?” Negan blurt out making the lines in Joel’s forehead deepen. “We don’t live in a conventional world anymore Mr. Grumpy Pants. Don’t have such conservative narrow minded views.”

“Excuse me?” Joel rumbled from where he was seated looking between both Y/N and Negan. “You’re telling me you would be perfectly okay with her having feelings for the both of us?”

“I’d be perfectly okay if the time we spend here between the three of us was used to have sex to pass the time,” Negan offered up making both Y/N and Joel gaze over at Negan. Throwing his hands up in the air, Negan headed over toward the corner of the room and rest his back against the wall. “You’re a man Joel. We’ve all been there. Let’s acknowledge that it’s okay for a woman to want to be in a threesome with two men. Two willing men.”

“A…” Joel went to repeat, his right eyebrow arching up in curiosity. “You mean?”

“Are you too much of a tight ass for that?” Negan pushed further making Joel tense up where he was seated on the couch. “Hell it could be our last few nights together here on this Earth, we don’t know. So why not go out with a bang. So to speak.”

“I don’t want her to think that she’s just some sex item,” Joel rambled on, throwing his hand about showing that he wasn’t against the idea he was just worried about how it would make her feel. It was actually cute and made her smile knowing that Joel was worried about her emotions. “I haven’t had the best luck with relationships…”

“I don’t think I’m some sex item. Sex is a natural thing. Negan makes me feel seen. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I feel wanted. And with you, I want you so bad. I know most people would frown upon it but is it so wrong to want the both of you?” she appealed to Joel making his Adam’s apple bounce in his throat. Thinking about what they were talking about, she started to pull open the buttons of the shirt that she had half assed put together. When her upper half was revealed to Joel, he lowered his eyes and let out a hesitant sound. Lowering down to her knees, she watched Joel shift from where he was seated. With each movement she made toward him, his breathing grew louder and it made her smile. “Tell me you don’t want this and I will stop.”

As she moved before him on her hands and knees, Joel kept quiet, his lips parting and his eyes hooked on her. When she got between his legs, she got up on her knees and caressed over his thighs through the material of his jeans. It made Joel let out a groan when his legs involuntarily spread further for her with the way he was sitting. There was a bulging at the center of Joel’s jeans and it made her smile. Tipping her head down, she pressed hot kisses over the material covering Joel’s thigh. With each kiss, she raised up further before getting high enough to drag her breasts across the top of his knees.

Pushing at the material of Joel’s button down shirt, she revealed the fleshy part of his lower abdomen and undid the button in his jeans, “I think you are in desperate need of a blowjob Joel. You never relax. Let me help you relax.”

“I just…” Joel’s eyes came to a tight close, his jaw flexing and his head dropping back on the couch when she managed to get the material apart. With a wince, he felt her tugging at the material of his jeans to get it down his hips and she managed to take his white boxers down in the same movement. His hard cock sprung free from behind the material and it made her lick her lips looking down at his rigid length. Lowering down, she started to press wet open mouthed kisses at the underside of his cock where the tip and the shaft met. It made Joel moan out and his hips slid down closer to her where she was on her knees. A deep unrelented growl fell from his parted lips when she took the swollen head between her wet lips. “Y/N…”

Heavy breaths fell from his throat when she lowered her head down over his length before pulling back. Taking her time, she dragged her tongue along his erection before repeating the same motion again and again. It took a minute for his wall to break down before Joel dropped his head to watch her pleasuring him. Lowering his hand, he stroked his fingers through her hair hearing her let out a wet sound when she pulled her lips from his member. Her fingers curled around the base of his throbbing length and she looked up at him. With the tip of his cock pressed against her wet lips, Joel felt his heart racing in his chest and his body felt like it was on fire. Watching her drag her tongue out over the tip made Joel let out a broken groan that made her smile. Joel’s eyes were heavy with lust while he watched her press wet kisses against the head before swirling her tongue around his sensitive flesh.

An amused rumble drew Joel to lift his head to see that Negan was watching from the corner of the room and Negan looked pleased. With her pleasuring him, just for that small amount of time Joel had forgotten that Negan was there, “You’re okay with this?”

“Oh, I love this,” Negan informed Joel with a cocky grin, heading over toward the couch to sit on the arm so he could watch the two of them better. “I feel like this place is finally being used for what it was intended for. It’s just the poor sap that was here before us didn’t get to do it.”

“Jesus…” Joel groaned, falling forward when she took him further back into her throat. Joel’s fingers strained and he moaned out at how well she was doing what she was. Maybe it was because it was the first time in a long time, but God it felt unbelievable. Joel was more of a silent lover in comparison to Negan, but the way Joel touched Y/N was what she appreciated. Negan never shut up where Joel had trained himself to be quiet for so long and it was obvious in the way they were with things.

“Do the both of you…” she looked up at the both of them with innocent eyes, still keeping her fingers wrapped around the base of Joel’s cock. It was completely solid in her grasp and it was obvious that he wanted her to keep going by the sounds he was making. “Are you okay with the three of us…?”

“I am if he is,” Negan waved his hand up in the air making Joel swallow loudly. Joel looked between the two of them before nodding his head. With a smile, she took Joel back into her mouth, bobbing her head unhurriedly trying to draw out each sensation for Joel. Getting up from the couch, Negan thought for a minute before carefully lowering to the ground himself. Moving in behind Y/N, he worked to get her pants apart again before hooking his fingers firmly into both her pants and panties to get them down her hips. Working with Negan to get the material off, she was the only person to be completely naked when Negan managed to slide down under Y/N on his back between her legs. The grasp he had on her hips made her whimper and it vibrated against Joel’s cock making him toss his head back with a wince. “Be a good girl and stay steady on your knees for me.”

Joel looked down to see Negan brace himself so he was raised up just enough on his elbows from where he was laying between Y/N’s thighs. Outstretching his tongue, Negan teased it between Y/N’s sensitive folds making her cry out and she had to pull her lips away from Joel’s body, “Fuck Negan…”

“Don’t screw Joel out of this moment…” Negan grunted against her flesh making her fall forward. She rest her head against Joel’s thigh when Negan went back to going down on her. The wet sounds Negan made were crude while his tongue circled her clitoris before sucking at it with a determined motion. Admiring the way that Y/N looked placing her head on his lap, Joel stroked his fingers through her hair and grinned.

“Feel good?” Joel questioned noticing the way she clutched to him when Negan shook his head from side to side. Nodding, Y/N tried to pull herself back together in order to go back to giving Joel the blowjob that she had been giving him originally. And for a while it worked. With her faint moans vibrating against his flesh, Joel almost lost it a few times. It was when Negan got exceedingly loud and the wet sounds grew that Joel had to reach for Y/N to stop. “Fucking…hell…”

Joel heard her cry out when Negan got her to an orgasm and she lowered her head back to Joel’s lap again. Looking to his swollen cock, Joel knew that he was on the brink of coming too and that’s why he made her stop. Dropping his head back, Negan licked his lips and an arrogant expression flooded his handsome features when he smiled big.

“I don’t need to ask you if you enjoyed that,” Negan hummed feeling her pulling herself from over him to try and catch her breath. With a gasp, she felt Negan picking her up and throwing her up over his shoulder. “Are you coming Grump?”

“Stop calling me that,” Joel growled, getting up from the couch and following them into the bedroom. Hearing Y/N laugh, Joel kicked out of his boots and pushed his fingers into his jeans to get them to flood at his ankles. Lifting up on her arms, Y/N watched closely when Joel started pulling apart the buttons of his long sleeved shirt to get it from his body. Standing completely naked before Y/N he could see that she was gazing over his body, eager to take all of him in when he got on his knees on the edge of the bed. “How do you want this?”

“How do you want this?” she repeated back, her thighs spreading slightly to reveal herself to Joel and it made an ache go right to his cock. With a grunt, Joel hooked his arms under her thighs, bringing her right to the edge of the bed before getting to his knees on the floor in front of it. “Joel!”

“Man knows what he wants,” Negan commented as Joel started kissing over the inside of her thigh. Balling her fingers up into a fist with the material of the blanket beneath her, Y/N felt Joel’s focused kisses rising close to her center. It made Negan smirk when he started to palm over the front of his pants. A purr fell from Y/N’s throat when Joel’s mouth finally met her core making her arch her hips up toward him. With Joel’s face buried between her thighs, Y/N was reaching her hand out for Negan and Negan motioned her to wait for a moment. It seemed like Negan wanted to take everything in and appreciate it as it was. There was no jealousy in Negan’s posture. He liked what he saw. Her throat went dry when he popped open the button in his pants and pulled down the zipper. When he pushed them down, it made his cock spring free from behind the prison of the material it was behind. The way it bobbed made her lick her lips and coo out while Joel had his way with her. With her eyes locked on Negan, it made a cocky smile expand out over his ruggedly handsome features. Kicking out of his pants, Negan stroked at his girthy length eyeing over the two of them before getting onto his knees on the bed. Stroking his fingers through Y/N’s hair, Negan led her up enough to lean up on her elbows to take the tip of Negan’s solid cock into her damp mouth. It made him click his tongue at the top of his mouth while his fingers sank into her hair. “Good girl.”

One of the things that Negan loved about this whole thing was that Y/N seemed to be enjoying this more than anyone. Everything with her was enthusiastic and he couldn’t blame her. She was the center of attention and she liked it. Licking his lips, Negan looked to see that Joel’s eyes were closed while he ate Y/N out. When Joel would make an aggressive sound, Y/N would have a strong reaction making Negan buckle over and brace his hand against the bed.

“Jesus Joel, calm it down,” Negan panted feeling his heart hammering watching Y/N still continue to pleasure him in pulling her head back but to only drop forward again.

“Now you know what I was going through,” Joel pulled his mouth away with a wet sound, swiping his thumb in over his bottom lip to collect the taste of Y/N from his fingertips. With a groan, Joel tried to pull himself up from the floor and he laughed when he couldn’t exactly get up the way he wanted. “Fuck, my knees suck.”

“Then we need to get you off of them,” Y/N pulled her mouth away from Negan’s manhood, her lips wet and glistening. Negan reached to collect her chin between his thumb and his pointer finger to get her to tip her head back. Capturing her lips in a heated kiss had her purring into his mouth, but she gasped when a firm hold grabbed at her jaw to pull her to kiss Joel making her melt at how aggressively he took what he wanted from her. Pulling back, her eyelids were heavy with lust noticing the way Joel’s eyes closed and it seemed like he was trying to remember the feel of her lips over his. “Are we having a dick measuring contest here because I’m completely okay with that?”

“I don’t mind letting Grumpy Pants here take control of things if it makes him happy for once,” Negan shoved into the center of Joel’s chest making him fall back against the bed with his legs hanging over the side of the bed. Joel’s erection rest against his lower abdomen when he winced and looked down at it. “But in this moment, I think I know what’s a good way to do this. You don’t have to hurt your knees. And we can switch off pretty easily.”

Joel’s eyes rolled back with Y/N tracing over the length of his shaft and it made his cock twitch knowing that it wanted to go back to being pampered in some way. It had been so long that his body was genuinely craving the attention and bad.

“Go ahead baby,” Negan urged her to crawl in over Joel who let out a shuddering breath when she did as Negan ordered. Her hands steadily braced herself over the center of Joel’s chest and his hands grabbed at her hips to caress up and over them. From behind her, Negan pressed wet, focused kisses over her shoulder and toward her neck. It had her tipping her head back to lick at her lips and Joel took his time to palm up over the lengths of her abdomen before palming in over her full breasts. It had been so long since Joel had been in a position like this and everything inside of him felt like it was on fire. Between Negan’s kisses and Joel touching her, Y/N was breathing heavily and purring out enjoying the pampering that the both of them were doing. Taking advantage of the moment, Joel lowered one of his hands to wrap his thick fingers around the girth of his length to stroke over it a few times. It was aching with want after everything and he adjusted her over his body with his free hand. Dragging his lips in over her earlobe, Negan smile when she whimpered feeling the swollen tip of Joel’s cock pressing between her folds. “Is this everything you wanted darlin?”

“Yes,” she winced when Negan nipped at her earlobe, but it was followed by the matching moans that both Y/N and Joel shared when Joel led the tip of his cock to her entrance and thrust his hips upward toward her. It made Y/N fall forward to brace herself when Joel’s rough hands squeezed at her hips to help lead her down over his length. When Joel filled her completely, he lifted up eager to meet her in a kiss. The warmth of her surrounding him felt incredible making him moan against her lips. Digging his fingers into her flesh, Joel urged her to start moving her hips over him. They were slow movements at first with her hips slowly raising up to almost the tip of his cock before swiftly lowering down to the base. It made an animalistic growl fall from Joel’s throat and he dropped his head back onto the bed when she repeated the movements. “Fuck Joel.”

Sucking at his bottom lip, Joel loved the way she took him again and again inside of her visibly enjoying the length of him filling her. With a wince, Joel felt Y/N’s nails digging into his chest and he knew it would leave a mark. Surprisingly, he enjoyed the burning pain that came with it. With the wet sounds of kissing, Joel opened his eyes and saw that Negan had grabbed a hold of Y/N’s throat and captured her jaw between his thumb and index finger to get her to turn her head to kiss him. While she was still bouncing her hips over Joel, Negan’s palm was caressing over the lengths of her abdomen. Grasping one of her breasts, Negan’s thumb circled her nipple making her arch back toward him. Watching Negan’s tongue plunge between Y/N’s lips made Joel’s throat go dry. Reaching for her hips, Joel started firmly thrusting his hips up with every movement that she made making her cry out every time he smacked up against her.

There was something incredibly sexy about watching his cock filling her again and again with every movement that he made inside of her. Her arousal was coating his cock and it made Joel lick his lips letting out a low pitched growl. This was an incredibly naughty situation and he didn’t know how smart it was, but he was throwing caution to the wind right now. It had been so long since he had done something that made himself feel good and just turn off his brain. Fuck, he had been so serious for so long that it was finally time for him to actually enjoy himself.

With a shuddering cry, Y/N pulled her mouth from Negan’s and whimpered words of encouragement to Joel who continued to smack his hips up against her. It made an arrogant smile tug at Negan’s lips, his fingers still curled firmly around her jaw when his other hand reached between her thighs to caress at her clit with firm circular motions. With a desperate moan, Joel could feel Y/N’s body tightening around him with the added friction of Negan’s fingers circling at her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” Joel rumbled, digging his fingers harder into her hips, certain to leave a mark. The way her body contracted around his let him know that she was on the verge of an orgasm. Pulling himself up into a seated position, his arm flexed around her hips while he helped her bounce over his throbbing length. Negan released Y/N’s jaw allowing her head to drop against the side of Joel’s neck, her cries vibrating against Joel’s flesh. With a violent shake, she pulled her hips from Joel and placed her hand in over his chest to brace herself making Negan’s thick rumble of a laugh fill the air when she reached her orgasm.

“You’re definitely going to need a day of resting after this,” Negan insisted, reaching for her hips to adjust her position. Stepping closer to the edge of the bed, Negan could see that her body was still tremoring which meant she would still be incredibly sensitive with everything. Stroking his body a few times, he led his solid cock to her entrance thrusting forward with a smacking sound. His abdomen slapped up against her bottom when she grabbed a hold of Joel who kissed over her jawline. Thrust after powerful thrust had her holding onto Joel for some kind of sense of stability. Joel’s finger curled around the side of her neck, his thumb caressing in over her jawline to bring her lips to his. Every thrust Negan made behind her had her bouncing forward into Joel and her moans vibrated against his lips. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

Negan’s head dropped back, the vein at the side of his neck becoming more prominent while he pounded into her repeatedly. They were starting to get louder with how they were and they didn’t seem to care. They had their room blocked off. It had been a long time since they could be verbal and loud with a lover, so they were all taking it.

“Fuck Negan,” she mewled out finding her heart pounding inside of her chest having Negan hit every right spot inside of her with the way he thrusted into her in this position. “Don’t stop…don’t stop…”

A frustrated wail fell from her throat when Negan pulled from her when she was right on the verge of another orgasm. Reaching around, she smacked at his hip hearing his amused laughter behind her, “That was mean.”

“You’ll get your orgasm you greedy little thing,” Negan reached for her to lay her out on her back. Crawling in over her, Negan settled himself between her thighs, curling his arm around her hips to bring them closer to him. Tapping the tip of his cock against her clitoris had her purring out making Negan smile and bite down on his bottom lip. A groan fell from Joel’s lips when he got up from the bed making Negan snicker. “It’s his knees and my back.”

“It’s my back too,” Joel piped in making Negan chuckle in against the side of Y/N’s neck when he with ease sank his length back into Y/N. Joel stood beside the bed watching the way that Y/N clang to Negan’s shoulders while Negan took his time rolling his hips against hers drawing his length from her just to the tip before pushing forward. Wrapping his thick fingers around his length, Joel could feel the ache there while he watched the two of them together. Y/N kissed over Negan’s freckle covered shoulders, her soft cries drawing chills down Joel’s spine. Getting onto his knees, Joel watched them adjust so she could lift up enough to take him between her wet lips while Negan continued to buck up against her. Giving her help, Joel thrust his hips allowing his length to sink back into her throat before pulling back again. With the wet sounds her mouth was making, Joel licked his lips and dropped his head back. With Joel moaning, it surprised Y/N but she liked it. While she liked this position, she could feel a fire burning inside of her belly making her whimper against Joel’s cock. It made him fall forward, bracing his hands against the bed. Stroking her hand over Joel’s length, she pulled her mouth away from his body and with Negan plunging inside of her repeatedly she could barely breathe. Sinking his fingers into her hair, Joel gave her a weak smile. “Let it happen…”

“Negan,” she cried out, pulling her hips up and away from him when he got her to her next orgasm making Negan let out a surprised sound when she let out a hesitant whine. “Jesus Christ.”

“You okay?” Negan mused with a half-smile, reaching to brush his wet hair back. Lifting her head, she could see that both their eyes were on her and she felt like the world was spinning around her. Raising her hand, she suggested that she needed a minute before continuing while her body continued to shake from her last orgasm. “Too much?”

“It was perfect, I’m just…it’s been a long time since I’ve had this much stimulation,” she watched Joel slick back his gray hair and it made her throat go dry. “What about…what about the both of you now?”

“At the same time?” Joel mentioned seeing the way she nodded and he looked to Negan who seemed enamored with the idea. “Are you sure?”

“Very. Negan said he had lube,” she pointed toward Negan watching him head around the side of the bed to the nightstand where he had found them previously. Getting comfortable on her side at the center of the bed, she stretched out her body and couldn’t take her eyes off Joel. He was breathing heavily, making her bite down on her bottom lip. “I’d love to have the both of you spoon me and take me at the same time?”

“You’re willing to risk it?” Negan confirmed watching her nod and look back over her shoulder at him with a seductive bite at her bottom lip making Negan groan. “You sure?”

“You won’t hurt me. I trust you,” she whispered feeling the bed dipping in front of her and Joel started to lay in beside her showing that he was already okay with the idea. It was Negan that took a moment to think things over before sliding in behind her. Joel kind of picked himself who was going where and she was okay with it. Joel’s breath was warm over hers while his rough fingertips stroked in over the side of her face.

“You are so beautiful,” Joel hushed her with a weak smile, his forehead pressing in against hers when he urged her leg in over his hip to bring their hips closer together.

Negan adjusted behind Y/N and Joel’s dark eyes were hooked on Negan when he watched him move in behind Y/N. Keeping her distracted, Joel’s lips covered hers kissing her to a sweet surrender. Her fingers sank into his wet hair, finding herself caught up in the way they kissed. When she let out a wince, Joel knew that Negan was preparing her for what she was about to go through. The sound of Negan kissing over the side of her neck surrounded them and she could feel Negan’s fingers pumping into her tight opening trying to prep her body. It was a foreign feeling, but Joel was doing his best to keep her distracted with his tongue pressing between her parted lips. The tender caress of it made her eyes come to a close and she liked the idea of being wrapped up in his arms with him caring for her.

Biting at his bottom lip, Joel reached between them and led his length back to her entrance making her eyebrows furrow with a whimper escaping her. It made Joel smile with the warmth of her breath over his and his lips hovered just over hers. Lifting his eyes, Joel gave Negan a small nod feeling Negan’s legs tangling with theirs. Y/N looked over her shoulder back at Negan who moved forward enough to draw her lips to his to kiss her. With the swollen tip of Negan’s cock at her other opening, her eyes came to a tight close when Negan kept his finger wrapped around his erection to help lead his body into hers. With Negan sinking his cock into hers and Joel already inside of her, it felt like the most addictive full, stretching feeling she could ever picture. Knowing that the two men that she was the most attracted to were both inside of her at the same time while wrapped up in their arms was the most passionate experience she had ever had. It was exciting while phenomenal at the same time.

“You okay?” Joel breathed against the side of her neck, starting to carefully roll his hips forward toward her, taking his time to move to make sure that she was okay with it. With a nod, she felt Negan take his time rolling his hips back behind her before pushing forward again. It seemed like both men were trying to find the right tempo to work together while they gained momentum with their movements. “Fuck…”

Y/N was desperate to kiss both Joel and Negan, going back between the two of them while Joel and Negan’s hands were everywhere and anywhere caressing over her body to keep her comfortable. Negan buried his nose against the side of her neck and she reached back to caress her fingers through his wet hair while Joel kissed at her jawline.

“I never thought…” she panted between both men enjoying the soft smacking sounds that their thrusts left filling the room, “that this would lead to this.”

“Don’t go telling people,” Joel’s southern accent rumbled against the side of her neck, nipping at her jawline while her soft cries fell from her throat. “We don’t need anyone thinking I actually like people.”

“That would be horrible,” Negan hummed when his lips hovered in over Y/N’s. “Mr. Grumpy Pants needs to keep his appearance up as the dark and brooding man at Jackson.”

“You’re lucky I like you,” Joel growled, making Negan smirk before kissing Y/N’s lips drawing his tongue out over the inside of her bottom lip.

“He likes you,” Y/N whimpered feeling Joel’s hips smacking forward against hers making her gasp out.

“Just barely,” Joel alerted her, drawing his fingers around her neck to get her to kiss him again. With the men finding a matching tempo with the way they thrust inside of her, she felt her body on fire and the sounds of their moans were matching. It was music to her ears and having this feeling was unlike anything she had ever felt before. It was something she would never forget. With their moans growing louder, it became more obvious that they were reaching their end. “Fuck…”

“It’s okay…” she breathed out wrapping her arms tighter around Joel’s shoulders when his hips smacked up against hers harder. His mouth claimed hers when he felt his lower abdomen clenching and his balls tightening up. Squeezing his fingers tightly around her thigh at a bruising grasp, Joel’s thrusts started to become uneven but more prominent when the first line of his cum started to fill her. The look on Joel’s face was everything to her. The lines in his forehead became more defined, his lips parted and his moans were faint, but God they drove her wild with desire. “You are so sexy.”

A weak smile pressed in over Joel’s lips, but instead of stopping, his thrusts were just slower, taking his time while Negan grabbed a hold of her hips and started to smack up harder against her from behind making her pant with how everything felt, “Negan…Joel…”

“Almost…” Negan winced, his jaw resting against her shoulder. Negan’s eyes rolled back and he was a much more verbal lover with the way his deep, raspy moans surrounded her. Negan nuzzled his nose against the side of her neck with her cries following while both men kept up with their movements inside of her. The throbbing sensation of Negan followed, his body straining behind hers and she knew what had happened. After a minute, they both stopped moving and the sounds of their loud breaths filled the bedroom. “Fucking…fuck…”

“What he said,” Joel snickered, his nose nuzzling in against hers before swallowing down hard. They were both still inside of her while they were coming down from their highs. “Did you like that?”

“Let’s just say I’d be perfectly okay with being trapped with the two of you for a very long time,” she alerted them with a weak breath making Negan laugh against the side of her neck. “Fucking hell…”

“You like being full of our cum, huh?” Negan seductively whispered against her lips making her whimper out when Negan carefully pulled his hips back and away from hers.

“It feels like I belong to the both of you,” she informed him watching Negan get up from the bed for a moment making her frown. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll be right back,” Negan nodded his head toward the door and she whimpered when Joel finally pulled his hips back and allowed his softening cock to pull from her body.

“You won’t ignore me from here on out, will you?” Y/N caressed in over Joel’s face while the two of them got more comfortable in the bed they were in together. Joel’s forehead pressed in against hers and he gave her a weak smile. “I don’t like that look.”

“I’m not used to affection from people Y/N. The last woman I was with, I barely let her know how I felt and she died thinking I didn’t care about her,” Joel stroked his thumb in over her jawline and he cleared his throat uneasily. “It takes a lot for me to show affection for someone. I’m not like Negan.”

“Then we’ll have to work on it,” she whispered feeling him turning on his side away from her, reaching for her arms to motion her to hold onto him. It was him that initiated it, showing that he wanted to be spooned by her after their sex session together. Giving him what he wanted, she nuzzled her nose against the back of his neck and actually enjoyed being able to hold onto him.

With the sound of Negan returning, she reached out her hand to him, seeing him smile when he saw that they were cuddling together. Getting back into bed with the two of them, Negan spooned Y/N from behind and it felt incredible being between the two of these men for Y/N. They were both so vastly different, but she felt an incredible amount of passion for the both of them. Being trapped in this apartment was terrifying at first, but now she actually found herself thankful for it. She was sure they would be able to escape, but in this moment, she didn’t care because she never wanted this to end. It was everything she wanted and more. So for right now, she wasn’t going to worry or fear. She was just going to enjoy the warmth of being between the two men she had grown close to. Hopefully this would make all of them closer in the long run because this wasn’t the last time she wanted something like this to happen. It was just too good to let go of.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @insertneganhere @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @nt-multi-fandom @tone-stark @chloepricerk800

#Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Pedro Pascal #Joel Miller #Negan #The Last of Us #The Walking Dead #Negan fanfiction #Joel Miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #negan x reader #twd fanfiction #tlou fanfiction

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justsasuke · 7 months

Text

Sasuke and Juugo domestic things:

This was meant for Juugo's birthday so it's a little late but here it is anyway. Feel free to add/send me more.

They get an apartment together and it's a small two room apartment with a small living/kitchen.

At first they had separate rooms but Sasuke always ended up falling asleep on Juugo's bed anyway (it's bigger and softer he says, and doesn't even bother going to his room first) so they ended up consolidating.

Their closets stayed separate for a bit longer but Sasuke is a clothing thief and after a few days of Juugo having to go into Sasuke's room to collect his sweatshirts/hoodies (that Sasuke leaves on the floor bc he's a mess) he moved Sasuke's clothes into his closet because it's the bigger of the two and also they both sleep in that room anyway so it makes more sense

Going to the local home goods store after they're both done with work to browse and see what's useful that they might need

Juugo likes to look at kitchen goods and drapes to see what's new and what they may be able to use

Sasuke likes to look at bedding and furniture.

They have similar taste as far as dishes, deco, etc but Juugo likes wood and Sasuke likes stone so they meet in the middle. Wooden utensils, stone tea cups and rice bowls, bamboo place mats, etc. It comes together really nicely.

Both of them slowly walking the isles looking at home goods, fingers loosely intertwined when no one is looking.

Both of them have a soft spot for strays and always keep a stock of cat/dog food in the apartment as well as old towels and medicine.

Sasuke always sets food out, Juugo is most likely to come home with an injured animal for them to take care of until it gets better and they find a home for it

They don't keep any pets though, mostly because they're too busy with strays

Juugo, what if we–" Sasuke trails off, holding his phone out for Juugo to see. Juugo steps over to the kitchen table where Sasuke is currently sitting and looks at the screen. It's a listing for a small brown and white kitten; the third one Sasuke has looked at in the past month. "We're taking care of one already " Juugo nods to the cat perched in the corner currently licking it's tiny paws, but it's not a no. (Because he could never tell Sasuke no). Sasuke glances over his shoulder at the cat and Juugo wishes he could frame the way Sasuke's dark eyes soften. "She's going home tomorrow" he says. The tiny cat was a babysitting job for Neko-baachan, though why she had asked them to only watch one cat when she had 18 was beyond him. "Suigetsu is bringing another stray soon". Suigetsu, who was highly allergic to most cats, had started bringing them strays as soon as he'd found out they were collecting them ("we're not collecting them" Sasuke has rolled his eyes, but everyone knew that was a lie). Sasuke nods, but he's looking at his phone again. Juugo shakes his head fondly and goes over to sit across from Sasuke, reaching for the phone. "Let me see again"

#juugo #Sasuke #Juusasu #Sasujuu #Juugo x Sasuke #Random

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salvadorbonaparte · 5 months

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Hi! I go to UMass Amherst! I'm in my third year of undergrad so take all of this with the consideration that my experience will be quite different than a grad student's, but I have certainly got some things to say about public transportation and the area :)

Main thing: despite the fact that public transport /exists/, it's.... not great honestly. People make it work but a car will make your life 10 times easier.

As a UMass student you'd get free access to the PVTA buses run by UMass transit, which can generally get you around campus, most places in Amherst itself, and some surrounding towns like Sunderland (more residential) and Hadley (quite a few grocery stores/chain restaurants). UMass Transit don't ask to see ID, either. You just hop on and go. However, this means that buses are often really crowded at rush times and especially so during rainy or snowy weather. These buses also do not consistently run on time, so you would not want to rely on the scheduled times; instead, look at the tracking apps. I have a few friends who live off campus without cars and they make it work, but it does often mean planning classes/work around the busses. It's certainly not CONVENIENT.

During the academic year you would also be able to get to Northampton and Springfield free with your student ID. They do charge fares over school breaks. The bus to Northampton leaves hourly and is much more consistent with timing than the UMass transit busses. The bus to Springfield, the closest "bigger" city, runs (I think) every two hours. All these busses are run by the PVTA as well, but not under the UMass transit umbrella.

From Springfield, you can catch Amtrak trains -- the Northeast Regional runs there, as does the Vermonter, and I'm sure I'm forgetting some. Springfield is also the home base for Peter Pan buses which operate frequent buses to NYC, Boston, Hartford, and other locations in the general Northeast.

There is a bus to Worcester, where you can catch an Amtrak or connect to the Boston commuter rail to get to Boston pretty cheap, but it is /crappy/. Due to PVTA driver shortages they usually run it as a van, not a full bus, and frequently passengers will be left behind even after people squeeze onto the floor of the van and sit in the back or in the aisle for the 2-hour ride. It costs about $9 to go from UMass's transit hub to Worcester. Once I got stranded in Worcester and had to uber back to Amherst because that van only runs about 3 times a day and not every day of the week, last departure around 4 pm.

The Amherst area has a housing crisis right now as UMass consistently admits increasingly more undergrads than it can house, and therefore once those undergrads finish their first year and are no longer guaranteed on-campus accommodations many of them move off-campus to Amherst and its surrounding towns. The best, cheapest, and most convenient housing is usually locked down by returning students the winter before an August move-in for the fall semester. This pushes many new grad students to the surrounding towns like Sunderland, South Deerfield, etc, where buses are a bit of a crapshoot and campus is no longer within reasonable walking distance. Housing's also pretty expensive for the semi-rural location. I'm looking at off-campus housing for next year and will be happy if I can find a place where I'll pay less than $1000 a month (usually, this covers a room in a shared apartment or house).

All this said, the area itself is beautiful, and I've had a great experience with the academics here. I have heard really good things about the translation and linguistics programs and I'm sure you'd be able to find a great niche. You'll also be in close proximity to 4 other great schools (Smith College, Mount Holyoke College, Amherst College, and Hampshire College) and have the ability to take classes, work with profs, etc from those schools through the 5 college exchange program. I don't know what PhD program you're thinking of applying to but I'm in the comparative literature undergrad program (complit encompasses a lot of our translation classes, undergrad and grad level) and have nothing but good things to say about the faculty, the grad student instructors I've had, and the program as a whole.

Feel free to reach out for more information if you'd like!!

Thank you for the info!

Unfortunately I can't drive (never learned) so I'd have to rely on buses. The bus system in Ireland was surprisingly bad (almost daily delays and I lived an hour away from campus) and in Spain I lived on a mountain in the middle of nowhere so grocery shopping took up to 5h but minimum 3h so by now my standards are pretty low. I'd love to travel a little while I'm there (Boston, Salem, Maine, Buffalo etc) so I'm just glad there's buses and trains at all. A free bus system that's kinda crappy is still better than one that doesn't exist or one that's crappy and expensive (shout out to Ireland's 2€ bus fares and Hannover's 8€ metro tickets)

The housing situation is a little worrying but I'm not above a flatshare and I'd get a scholarship so I'm sure I'd find something?? But I'll start looking as soon as soon as I know where I'm moving to because the housing situation is bad in those cities too.

I know something who went to Smith and someone who went to Mount Holyoke so I heard good things about the general region and landscape etc.

The professors I talked to (German Department) were really nice and it sounds like a really cool phd program. Even though Amherst is not as prestigious as two of the other unis I'm applying to it's a very good school and I'd be happy to go there if that's the one I get accepted by/the one I pick.

#Asks

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marukissnack · 8 months

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Totally for SCIENCE purposes only....

🏠 😍🧑‍🍳🫵🐢💵🧑‍🤝‍🧑🦸

aaaaaaaaaand another question of my ooooowwwnnn.....

which iteration of TMNT do you think has inspired your AU the most?

Anon you’re spoiling me here ( ；∀；) Lots of longer answers in this one so BUCKLe UP BOYS

Find the list of questions here!

🏠 What is the Lair like?

This is an interesting one, ‘cause in this AU their lair and their home are two separate places!

I’ve mentioned/implied multiple times before that Yoshi, the turtles’ “uncle” & official guardian, is still human. Because of this, My AU turtles live topside in what’s essentially a large apartment.

I…definitely 100% made their home in the sims, and spent hours in first-person Google maps roaming the streets of NYC to find a real live building as reference to make it that much more realistic. It was a lot of fun. That is not sarcasm. I also plan to recreate their hideout in the basement of the sims lot when I get motivation, and I’ll be posting it entirely once it’s complete. But for now, have a basic description!

Their “house” is a three story building, purchased at a time when the housing market was not impossible, and passed down generations of Hamatos. On the main floor is the Hamato Dojo (name pending) where Yoshi works by teaching people (mostly children) the art of ninjutsu. This is also where the turtles do most of their formal training sessions, and when they were tots they sometimes had to hide/hangout in the staff kitchen but I’ll get into that bit some other time.

The second floor is their main living quarters. I tried to imitate a very apartment looking layout for it, but it takes up the entire floor if that makes sense. 5 males, 4 teenagers, 3 bedrooms, 1 bathroom. You can probably imagine the chaos that takes place in the morning. Ha. Yoshi gets his own room, Mikey & Leo share another, and Raph & Donnie share the Master bedroom because those two are the most picky about their personal space and they both NEED their own desks. Couldn’t just SHARE like Leo & Mikey do. Smh my head.

The third floor shares the exact same layout as the second, very apartment building like. It is currently unoccupied. The reason they don’t use it is because technically it can be rented out, and Yoshi’s father (another bit I’ll get into some other time) wants him to do that (for more money), so they can’t use it so it stays in decent shape for future occupants. It most likely is/will be rented out during the story, but it’s also very likely it will be a complete rando who has no purpose in the main story.

NOW THE LAIR, which the turtles call their Hideout. It is in the sewers. The main entrance is the manhole in the alleyway conveniently right by their house, like literally climb out the window, jump down the fire escape, boom, right there. There is a slight walk through the tunnels to get to the main area, but it’s very close. The hideout itself isn’t super lived in, but a majority of their hobbyist things are down there due to the lack of space in the apartment, for example:

A lot of Leo’s musical instruments are down there, like a portable keyboard, an abandoned drum set they found, etc.

Mikey keeps his spray paints and messier art stuff there

Donnie’s built his big, mainline PC down there, you know the one, the one that does the heavy technological stuff like the serious hacking. Idk. Anyway, a majority of what would be considered his “lab” is down there.

Raph…he hangs out down there. Lmao, most of his hobbies are on his main PC in his room so he just follows his brothers to hang out tbh. There is a sort of Rage Room a little ways away from the main area that Mikey put together for the two of them to blow off steam.

There’s a couch they found on the side of the road one night that they dragged across town to take down there. Some old beanbags. Idk, I haven’t visualized in the sims yet, my decor game severely lacks when it’s just in my head. This is typically where they’ll go when they need out of the apartment but don’t wanna get all human-disguised for the public.

😍 Are there any romances in your au?

There is no explicit romance, and VERY very few implied (like…one, lol). I considered it for a few of the adult characters, but ended up deciding that I just don’t feel it’s necessary to include in the story I wanna tell.

Mikey does have a crush. But there is no hope for it going anywhere, and he knows that, so I don’t really count it as a “romance”. Just a teen with a celebrity crush. Nothing more.

🧑‍🍳 Who is the best cook?

Of the main cast? Raph, but don’t tell the others; he has a reputation to maintain.

Yoshi’s pretty good, too. Fresh grown herbs do wonders for a meal.

🫵 Who do you project onto the most?

….That’s funny because I project onto all of them all the every all the time. But I GUESS that’s not the question sooo…

Me: Geez this is such a weird thing that I do. Probably from my ADHD or whatever.

Me: ……

Me: Here you go, Mikey.

🐢 Are your turtles different species?

YES! :D I spent many hours researching turtle species to find the right ones for each of them. Leo gave me the HARDEST time, fr.

Donnie is a False Map

Leo is a River Cooter

Mikey is a Yellow-Bellied Slider

Raph is a Common Musk (aka stinkpot)

And as I mentioned in my last post, Sandro is a turtle, so he gets included. He is a Red-Eared Slider.

There is also a Painted Turtle.

💵 How do your turtles make money? Or do they only scavenge?

As mentioned above: Yoshi is a human! With a human business! And gets money for it! Crazy! Each turtle gets some form of allowance idk how much I haven’t really thought about it, but they do get something.

On top of that, there are some other forms of income that the boys have developed.

Raph occasionally livestreams gaming. People are crazy about his hyper realistic vtuber model, it’s rigged so well and the 3D textures wtf (Don’t tell Yoshi he’d FREAK!)

Donnie helps people choose parts for PC builds and/or builds it for them. All his reviews have the same format: “I heard good things about this guy, so I gave him a chance. Kinda freaky how I was told to just drop off all the super expensive parts outside an alleyway and walk away, and when I turned around they were immediately gone. Like, those were definitely just stolen lmao. But then the next day, there was my perfectly built PC right there, right when he said it’d be done. Absolutely insane experience, definitely some kind of cryptid. 5 stars.”

Mikey does art commissions and probably some kinda webcomic

Leo definitely has some kind of “I will make banger background tunes for your business/livestream/etc.” listing on fiverr.

🧑‍🤝‍🧑 Is April considered a sibling?

Yeah…yeah, eventually. April is an only child, so she DEFINITELY learns to see them as brothers. Because they don’t meet until the story’s actually started, it takes some time. But eventually the Hamatos become a second family to her, and they start to forget there were times where April wasn’t sitting on their couch. Plus, they’ve always had that 6th chair at the table practically waiting for the final family member to arrive, and it just makes sense for her to be there.

…they’re gonna need to buy more chairs soon.

🦸 Is Casey a vigilante?

In a way.

I’m gonna be honest, my Casey is not very fleshed out at the moment, as he doesn’t come into the story for some time. But I do know that Casey has a heart for good and justice, and hates the clear disconnect with how some people are treated differently for seemingly no reason. And he hates the way that those in authority deal with it all. But I don’t think he is very active in this passion, in the ways of his canon counterparts, at least not early on.

I think, where he is now, he’s one push away from running head first on the vigilante’s path. If only a red garbed turtle would show up and like shove him over or something. Wouldn’t that be crazy?

❓Which iteration of TMNT do you think has inspired your AU the most?

That’s a funky one! I’m a big fan of every iteration (I still have not seen them all, but I hold each one I have consumed very close) so there’s not one specific iteration that serves as THE inspiration. I’m sorta taking bits and pieces from each —a character from here, a hobby from there, a storyline to reference here, etc.— what I feel fits the best for the story I want to tell. I’m also wanting to try new things that haven’t been seen in official turtle media yet (afaik), y’know, like…“What if Donnie was the oldest? How would that change how his personality manifests?“ — “What if Splinter didn’t mutate and was a human instead of a rat? How would that affect how the turtles were raised and where they live?”

So in a way, I suppose Rise is my biggest inspiration? As it’s the first show to REALLY change up the status quo outside of just tone (with Raph being the oldest & leader, Shredder being an ancient demon instead of Just Some Evil Dude, etc.). But each iteration is uniquely different in its own special ways. And I love that.

Anywho, uhhh… For the overall tone of the story, 2012 is what I’m using as an “inspiration”/guideline; a slightly darker, more serious take but still very silly and humourous.

I’m also snagging quite a bit from Mirage comics (and sort of by extension 2003 show?).

So like. To answer your question:

Yes.

#my turtles au #‘Stop talking about my fear stink!’ - Raph RotTMNT

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aceinthehellhole · 1 year

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2 out of 3 potential movement classes suck so far, and I'm not holding out hope for the third.

Professor Crewel (yes his actual LITERAL name sounds like "CRUEL") is the most terrifying man I've ever met, and I don't admit that lightly. I am of the philosophy to never turn tail when faced with anyone who wants to mess with me, but Crewel?

Ugh... I just got a full body shudder. This man reeks intimidation. He's got jet black hair and piercing gray eyes that seem to stab through your soul, ripping apart your insides to loot around for something interesting.

Acting movement class takes place in the auditorium on a big stage, and the entire class we had today was about WALKING. I don't know how this school gets funding if they're teaching people how to walk, but I guess that's just the state of our education system for you.

Now, don't get me wrong, it wasn't an easy lap around the room. He called on us one by one to walk the length of the stage with different prompts and kept changing them every few people. Stuff like "walk like an old lady", "walk like someone with a secret", etc etc.

Admittedly it would have been kind of funny watching my classmates go and follow the prompts, walking like goofs in front of everyone. But there was this heavy weight in the room. I dunno if it was from Crewel's stare or the spotlights above the stage, illuminating us like specimens in a lab, but everyone knew to take this thing seriously like always.

So when my name gets called and I jump to my feet, trying to seem casual and confident even though my palms are all sweaty at the thought of becoming the next goof on the chopping block.

The stage lights are super bright and hot and I have to squint to see Professor Crewel, leaning leisurely against his desk, which is on the floor below the stage.

He carries one of those old school extendable pointers with him 24/7, and keeps tapping it against his palm in a way that only he could make feel threatening.

"Trappola!" He barks, flicking the pointer to the right. "Walk as though you are a newly escaped prisoner."

Oh, great.

Actually teach, that's what I wish I was! An escape-y from Night Raven College! This is barely acting!

So I sigh and hunch over, trying to imagine what someone in that situation would look like. Shifting eyes? A malicious grin? Tiptoeing, so as not to draw attention to-

CRACK

The noise rings through the auditorium, making me nearly shit myself.

"Bad form. You look more like a guilty hound dog than a convict." Crewel says, withdrawing the pointer, where it had definitely left a mark from how he'd whipped it against his desk.

Yeesh. His first negative review of the day. Surprise, surprise - it's for me!

Crewel's eyes scan the students' faces, looking for god knows what. His gaze lands on one and his mouth lifts into what for him could be considered a smile.

"Viper." He says, beckoning one guy forward.

The guy nods and steps up. He has, like, the most silky hair I've ever seen. Literally like he stepped out of a Garnier commercial.

"Demonstrate." Crewel barks again.

Viper guy doesn't need to be told twice, and he immediately crouches low to the ground, his ponytail swishing against his back. He crawls forward, eyes scanning left and right, then barrel rolls into a stance as if his back is pressed against an invisible wall, hand splayed behind him as he peeks around the invisible corner.

It feels like I'm watching an action movie unfold right before my eyes. I can't even complain about being cut off in my lousy attempt at playing pretend, this guy is living it.

Crewel claps once. His highest known form of praise. "Well done."

Hell, I'm tempted to clap too. That was... objectively really cool.

But then Crewel's steely eyes bore into me and any thoughts of applause go out the invisible window.

"Trappola. You are to do partner work with Viper. Put together a five minute pantomime." He looks at Viper. "Present it to me by next week."

Ugh. More homework.

Viper nods again. "Yes, sir."

I mean, maybe this pantomime thingy won't be so bad. Viper seems pretty cool.

It's only my third week here, and the universe continually insists on screwing me over.

I hold up my hand to high five him as he rejoins the group, but he COMPLETELY ignores me. Even bumps past my hand on his way. So much for the hope that ONE GUY here wouldn't be a complete asswipe.

Is it because I'm too hot? Too charismatic?? What egregious sin did I commit in a past life to have this one suck so bad?? Ugh.

Lunch time, my lord and savior, please don't fail me now...

#twst #twst rp #twst au #twst smau #twisted wonderland #ace trappola

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bestoriana · 25 days

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Factors To Consider When Choosing Luxury Homes in Dehradun

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https://bestoriana.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/01/club-893x466-1.jpg

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erensangel444 · 2 years

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gold dust woman

eren jaeger x reader

modern!au

PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT IF NOT 18+ thank you!

title inspired by gold dust woman by fleetwood mac

this fic is eren x fem!reader, if you guys would want to see some gender neutral fics just let me know in my asks inbox! i’m open to any suggestions, if you want a fic that’s specifically tailored to you whether that be race-wise, gender-wise, any disabilities, etc,. just let me know!

likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated:D

this fic has been proofread but if i missed something just let me know!

a/n: EREN GUITAR PLAYER SUPREMACY!!! i want the record store cliche love story, universe where is this at???

warnings: language(most of my fics do contain language), smut: [f!oral receiving, sex w/out protection, creampie]

word count: 4.4k words

summary: you work in a record store, surrounded by music. a boy comes in, searching for a record. it’s only right to share the music you love with him.

your arms were crossed over your body, holding the vinyl records from the back room against your chest. second hand news by fleetwood mac came through shuffle on your phone, the song playing through the record store speakers.

you began mouthing along to the lyrics, a slight bounce to your step. you placed a billy joel vinyl in the bin titled soft rock, a kim wilde vinyl in the pop rock bin, mindlessly working through your task.

upon walking back to the register, the bell attached to the door rang, a ray of sunlight hitting the dark wooden floor. “hi!” you said, greeting the customer and shuffling behind the counter.

a man walked in, his dark brown hair tied back in a bun, some strands falling to frame his face. he had on a white shirt, and loose long khaki pants, a stark contrast to the color of his shirt. “we’re currently having a sale, buy two records, get one free,” you said, looking over at him. he nodded in understanding, offering you a soft smile before walking away to look through the bins containing the vinyls.

your eyes shifted from the boy and back towards the cash register as you pretended to busy yourself with counting the dollar bills. your ears perked up as you heard footsteps draw near the counter, the brown haired man now back in front of you.

he placed two vinyls down on the countertop, smiling softly at you before looking back down at the records he had placed in front of you. “bare trees...” you thought aloud, flipping the vinyl over and scanning the bar code, “nice choice,” you looked up at the man for a small moment before busying yourself with scanning the other record.

“you a fan of fleetwood mac?” he asked, hoping to kill the subtle silence with dull small talk. “yeah,” you said softly, ringing up how much the two items would cost him. “my mom played them a lot when i was younger, so it’s kind of a sentimental thing,” you replied, the boy’s smile growing.

“where’s your third one?” you asked, the boy letting out a curt hum, confusion lacing the vibration. you laughed softly, the boy’s teeth showing at your giggle. “your third record, you get one free,” you explained further as he let out a soft ‘oh,’ to which you couldn’t help but smile at.

“well what do you recommend?” he asked, his hands planted a couple feet apart on the edge of the counter, the boy leaning slightly forward over the register, closer to you.

you hated yourself for feeling so flustered at the small action.

“well according to my expertise,” you said jokingly, the boy laughing softly. you cheered silently at the fact that he liked your stupid joke. “based on what you have, i think you’d really like the kinks.” you made your way around the counter, motioning for the boy to follow you.

you didn’t miss the small chuckle at the name from the man behind you.

“they have this really good album called everybody’s in show biz,” your fingers pushed different vinyls in the soft rock bin forward, looking for the record. “here we go!” you cheered softly, pulling it out from the bin. “my favorite song on here is called supersonic rocket ship, i think you’ll love it.”

you held the record out towards him, the boy staring at you, seemingly dumbfounded. “or not! it’s stupid of me to assume what you would like or not like, i’ll just-” “i’ll give it a listen,” he said, smiling, grabbing the record from your hands.

what you hadn’t known was that eren’s dumbfounded expression wasn’t one of annoyance or boredom, but instead pure admiration. he had gotten that fluttery feeling--only for a split second, he swears he’s not a sap! it was just cute how you talked about music, that’s all.

he couldn’t help the images forming in his head, your cheeks heating up after talking too fast, too eager to say what was on your mind, or your tongue jutting out to lick your lips.

“i hope you like it,” your voice broke eren from his thoughts, and he couldn’t help but smile softly at the expression on your face. “i have high expectations, thanks to a certain someone,” eren teased. he could see your face visibly deflate.

“i’m just playing!” he reassured you, laughing softly, “i’m sure i’ll love it.” the desire to know more about you was nagging at him. if it weren’t for his lunch with armin in an hour, he’s sure he would’ve stayed in this record shop forever.

“i’m eren,” he said, holding out one hand, his other arm holding the record to his body. “y/n,” you offered back, smiling at him. “well thank you, y/n.”

he made your name sound so pretty.

you both held eye contact for a moment, before the tension got the best of you, prompting you to practically beeline towards the register. “um, that’ll be 47.35” you totaled his amount, eren handing you his card.

after his payment went through and the bag was in his hand, you both hesitated, almost as if neither of you wanted the interaction to end.

“y-you’ll have to come back and tell me if you liked the song,” you rushed the sentence from your lips, your voice trailing off towards the end.

“sounds like a plan, y/n,” eren grinned. the bell to the door rung once more, and you watched eren walk out of sight.

eren came back a couple of days later. you had thought that you’d scared him off, worrying that he might feel obliged to come back. though unknown to you, eren had planned his trip back to the record store meticulously.

he couldn’t come back the next day, he’d seem too desperate, but if he waited too long, you’d lose interest. maybe you didn’t even have any interest in him.

eren was stressing over a girl he had talked to for not even 10 minutes--which was a first for him. he decided three days was the perfect amount of time to wait, and just enough time for him to grow the balls to see you again.

in those three days, your head would whip towards the door so quickly at the ring of the bell, only for your hope to be deflated each time. you were so eager to see eren again, chastising yourself at your little crush.

your self-berating had done no good because when you saw eren walk through the door three days later, your heart skipped more than one beat. “eren,” you tried to contain your excitement, eren walking over to the counter. “so,” he said, drawing out the word.

“the record,” he was smirking now, his heart beating quickly at the eager expression on your face, your eyes all doe-like. “ya know, i had really high expectations,” he saw your eyebrows furrow, your mouth pouting out just the slightest bit.

he couldn’t tease you anymore, heart too happy and waiting to see the pretty grin on your face. “and i was not disappointed.” it was definitely worth ending his teasing shortly.

eren thought you had the prettiest smile.

you clapped your hands together in a cheer, grinning. “i-i’m so happy you liked it!” eren laughed softly, before hopping atop the counter to sit, catching you by surprise. you gasped before turning away, and looking down at your shoes.

“am i allowed to sit up here,” eren joked, looking down at you. ‘mhm’ you hummed simply, looking up at him for a moment, one of his eyebrows raising in challenge. you looked away once more, eren’s smirk too much for you to handle.

he laughed softly at your evident flustered state before talking, “has it been busy today?” you didn’t dare look up at him, busying yourself with the register, “not really, it’s been a slow day today.” eren cleared his throat, forcing you to look up at him.

“it’s rude not to look at someone when they’re talking to you,” he was full on grinning, obviously having fun with how easy you were to tease. “sorry,” was all you could stutter out, your cheeks flushed with heat.

“i don’t think an apology’s good enough,” he sighed jokingly, hopping off the counter. “let me take you out tonight,” he said confidently, staring at you. eren didn’t know where this sudden boldness had come from, he had just had to give himself a pep talk in his car five minutes prior.

“y-yeah!” you tried to contain your excitement, to no avail, “i’d love that.” you couldn’t help but smile, your heartbeat quickening. “hand me your phone,” eren said, causing you to fumble with the device in your back pocket before holding it out for the boy in front of you.

his fingers brushing against yours shouldn’t have made your heart palpitate as it did, but the slightest contact had you reeling. eren handed you back your phone before smiling softly and heading towards the door.

he leaned his back against the door to push it open before he spoke, “text me once your off,” and just like three days ago he was gone and leaving you frazzled.

looking down at your phone, eren had saved his contact name as ‘mr. kinks’ causing you to chuckle softly.

you had texted eren that you were closing up, and he texted back a simple ‘i’ll pick you up’. the sun was setting, the sky a blend of orange and pink. you locked the door to the record store, walking through the courtyard of shops and out towards the street, hearing music playing.

it was none other than eren, the top off of his black convertible. he hadn’t noticed you were there, bobbing his head almost violently to the tune of the less i know the better by tame impala. you laughed softly, eren turning at the sound. upon seeing you, he smiled brightly, opening his car door.

“h-hi!’ he said almost too cheerfully. “hey,” you said softly, both of you quiet for a moment.

he rushed over to the passenger side of the car, opening your door. “what a gentleman,” you said jokingly, eren laughing. “that’s gonna be 10 bucks” he said ever-so-seriously, holding out his hand.

“shit, looks like i don’t have any money on me,” you pouted, situating yourself in the passenger seat. eren had been teasing you all day, you figured it was time for a little revenge. as he shut your car door, you looked up at him, “but i can pay you in other ways.”

eren looked down at you, his tongue poking into his cheek before he walked around to his side of the car. he sat for a moment before turning to look at you. “so it’s like that, huh?” “it’s like that,” you responded confidently.

“okay, then” he chuckled, turning the car on, the engine purring softly. he leaned over to whisper in your ear, his sudden proximity electrifying your nerves. “don’t cry when it’s too much to handle,” one of his hands made it’s way onto the steering wheel, the other opting to rest on your thigh.

his hand on your thigh caused a slight jolt in your body, eren looking over at you, lifting his hand off. “sorry,” he said apologetically, scared he had made you uncomfortable.

in a sudden surge of confidence, you grabbed his hand placing it back on your thigh. “same goes for you,” you said simply, playing off of eren’s earlier words. he just grinned at you before driving off.

eren had wanted to take you to a nice restaurant, go for the whole ‘wine-and-dine’ thing. turns out that without reservations, the wait was excruciatingly long, which eren should’ve known. sensing his distress, you offered up a solution, which now led to you and eren sitting in a vacant parking lot, mcdonald’s in hand.

“you’re really fuckin’ cool you know,” eren said through a mouthful of burger, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. you laughed softly before replying, “you’re cool too,” you couldn’t help but giggle at the ketchup on the side of eren’s face.

“what?” he said, smiling so hard, “something wrong with my face?” both yours and eren’s laughter filled the car as you spoke in between giggles, “no it’s just-you’re really messy, you know that?” you wiped the ketchup from the side of eren’s face.

“i can be messy in other ways, too,” eren’s tone shifted quickly, the laughter quieting down. you couldn’t help but blush at that, looking down at the soda cup in your hands. you looked back up at eren, and you had the desperate urge to wipe that smug smirk off of his face.

you punched him in the bicep, eren letting out an exaggerated ‘ow!’ before smiling at you. “the beach isn’t far from here if you wanna go,” eren offered up in the soft lull of silence. “why not?” you reasoned, putting your food back in the bag.

you went to put your seatbelt back on, before eren went to stop you, “i want you to try something,” he said, his eyes boring into yours. “do you trust me?” he said, causing you to laugh softly. “i mean we met 4 days ago, but you haven’t turned out to be an axe murderer yet, so sure.”

eren laughed softly, turning the key in ignition. “that logic may be flawed, but that’s beside the point,” you chuckled at his words. eren’s right hand came to the headrest of your seat as he looked over his shoulder reversing out of the parking lot.

you were driving on the road now, the area pretty empty besides a couple of other cars. “okay you see this tunnel coming up?” eren yelled over the sound of the wind. “uh huh!” you yelled back. “stand up!” eren yelled, letting his foot off of the acceleration slightly. “huh?” you screamed back, seemingly appalled.

“i promise you’ll love it!” he took a quick glance your way, grinning, before turning back to focus on the road. “you won’t fall, i’ve got you!” you shook away any hesitancy, standing from your seat shakily. your hands were holding onto the windshield of eren’s car, the wind getting quieter upon entering the tunnel.

eren looked up at the sounds of your laughter, smiling at your carefree expression. you let one hand off the windshield, holding it up in the air as you let out a happy yell. eren turned the music on his stereo up, stealing glances up at you every few moments.

both of your hands were off the windshield now, your cheeks sore and eyes watering from the brush of the wind, but your smile so big. “it’s so cool!” you yelled over the wind and the sound of memories by kid cudi and david guetta playing through eren’s speakers.

eren laughed softly, stepping on the acceleration slightly causing you to let out a surprised yelp, your laugh sounding shortly after.

you sat back down, panting, looking over at eren. “told you you’d like it,” he grinned, stepping on the gas, his engine roaring out into the silence of the night.

“watch your step” eren said softly from in front of you, holding his hand out to grab. you smiled at him, taking his hand in yours. the wooden steps leading down to the beach were partially buried in the sand, resulting in a steep staircase down to the shore.

you and eren made your way down, eren taking the rolled blanket from under his arm, lifting up in the air before laying it down on the sand. “have you been here before?” you asked, sitting down on the blanket as you looked out to the water brushing against the shoreline.

“mhm,” he hummed, sitting down beside you, “i surf here with my friend, armin.” it was becoming annoying how cool he was. “and he surfs too?” you teased flirtatiously, smiling over at eren.

he laughed softly before looking down at your hands on the beach towel. your rings were pretty. “it’s nice,” you said softly, looking up at the sky, “can see all the stars out here, too.”

eren looked over at you, and couldn’t help but smile at the admiration gracing your facial features. eren so desperately wanted the logical part of his brain to chastise this fondness he felt growing in his heart so quickly, but all rationale melted away once you turned to eren with a smile.

“if you come out here real late at night,” eren started, cheeks flushing when you turned to look at him, “there’s bioluminescent algae in the water.” your pretty lips parted in a soft ‘o’, eren forcing himself to keep his thoughts pg-13.

didn’t mean he couldn’t imagine how your lips would feel against his own.

“you’ll have to take me sometime,” you smiled, turning to look back out at the water. you and your sweet voice, and your pretty smile.

eren couldn’t take it anymore.

his hand came up to brush against your left cheek, the contact causing you to turn and look at him. he looked pretty under the moonlight, soft shadows casting over his face.

“can i kiss you?” he said quietly, to which you nodded, unable to form words in your current state.

eren’s lips brushed against yours, the meeting soft, hesitant, at first. when you whimpered into his lips, eren went ballistic. both hands were on your cheeks now, yours coming to latch around his neck.

eren’s tongue slipped into your mouth, gliding against yours as he groaned softly. he could feel the blood rushing to his cock, he had to pull back before he got in too deep.

he pulled away, panting softly, cheeks flushed a pretty pink now. you were in a similar state, panting, but your eyes glistened with need with desperation. “don’t want you to stop,” you panted softly, making your way onto eren’s lap.

“is this alright?” you panted into the skin of eren’s neck, leaving kisses in your wake, sucking at the skin in hopes of leaving a mark. “s’alright,” he groaned softly, bucking his hips up. you could feel his bulge, pressing into your cloth covered center.

“wanna fuck you so bad,” you were full on whimpering now. if eren hadn’t known any better, he’d of sworn you’d taken female viagra or some shit. hell, he wasn’t complaining, though.

“yeah?” he hummed, licking his lips as he looked up at you. the moon lit up your entire face, the way your eyes were lidded softly in pleasure, the way your bottom lip was tucked under your teeth as you rutted your hips over his cock, desperate to get rid of the layer separating you from him.

“wan’ me inside?” eren asked, already knowing the answer. the way you were humping him was tell-tale sign enough. “mhm!” you squealed. eren laughed softly, his hands coming to the waistband of your jeans.

“come on, get it all off then,” he directed. you stood up, whimpering from the loss of contact albeit, but quickly made work of your jeans. eren did the same from his spot on the beach towel, lifting his hips off to tug his jeans down his legs.

his shirt was next, discarded to the side somewhere, eren left in his blue boxers, cock aching for any stimulation. his hand fell to his bulge, palming himself softly before he looked up at you.

the moon cast across your figure was almost too much for eren to handle, but if he was being honest with himself, everything about you and the way you seemed to flood his senses was sending him into overdrive.

eren’s hands were grabbing at yours now, pulling you down beside him on the beach towel before softly laying you down.

he could feel the quickening of his heart beat as your eyes twinkled up at him. he broke the eye contact(although begrudingly), allowing his eyes to rake over your body. his stare lingered on the hardened buds of your nipples, running over your stomach, right down to your crossed legs.

one of eren’s hands came to your hips as he cooed softly, “come on baby, lemme see.”

once you opened your legs, eren was a goner. your arousal was dripping from your slit, making a mess of your inner thighs. and, fuck, that embarrassed expression of yours was making even more blood rush to eren’s cock.

he put his own desperation to the side, running a finger through your slit. the cute squeak that fell from your lips had broke any semblance of self control that eren had been holding onto, his mouth latching onto your clit in a harsh suckle.

your hands flew to his hair, and eren reveled in the harsh tug of your fingers on his brown locks. he couldn’t help the muffled whimper he let out into your dripping center, the vibrations causing you to throw your head back on the beach towel, your line of vision changing from eren’s green eyes to the moon.

eren could tell as you got closer, for one, your hips began to move on their own accord, desperately chasing that high that only he could give you.

and give it you was he going to.

eren’s fingernails were now leaving crescent shaped marks on your hips, and the suction of his mouth around your clit was sending you spiraling, “ren, please!”. the nickname you had given eren in your desperation almost sent him cumming untouched like a prepubescent teen, but he held himself together.

“whaddya’ want?” he murmured into your clit, his ego boosted to the heavens. “wanna, wanna cum!” you panted, and eren was all too happy to grant your wish. “come on then,” he panted back breathlessly, his senses once more flooded with your arousal as his tongue worked you to your peak.

and with one more kitten lick to your sensitive clit, eren felt you gush in his mouth, the excess liquid dribbling down his chin. he pulled away, grinning, as you came down from, hands-down, the best orgasm you had ever had.

eren sat back on his haunches, watching the rise and fall of your chest, his cock hard against his abdomen. “fuck, never done that before,” you sighed softly before giggling and eren swore you couldn’t be anything but an angel.

you sat up, still leaning on your arms before grabbing eren by the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. “c’mere” you said into his lips, sitting eren down in the spot you had just been before situating yourself in front of him.

“don’ need it,” eren hummed as you jutted your tongue out, ready to give a soft lick to the leaking tip of his cock. “hmm?” you hummed, cocking your head to the side in confusion, a slight disappointment etched across your features.

“i need to be inside you or else im gonna lose it,” he said a little too quickly, his honesty gifting him a soft smile from you. you situated yourself atop his lap, eren’s hard cock in between your stomach and his.

“c’mon,” he sighed, the feel of your hand wrapped around his cock as you stroked him giving him more pleasure than it should have, “i’m yours, c’mon, make this dick yours.”

his words caused that second heartbeat to reappear(though it had never fully left), and as you positioned eren at your entrance, you began sinking down, taking him inch by inch.

the stretch was delicious, the sheer girth of eren’s cock molding your walls into his shape. “fuuuuckk, that’s it jus’ like that,” eren sighed. as you sat, full of his cock and adjusting to the stretch, eren was racking his brain for anything to stop him from busting like a virgin.

hairy balls. grandpas. asparagus. eren hated asparagus.

yet, no matter how he tried, the warmth of your walls around his cock was beginning to be too much. he couldn’t take it anymore.

“i’m sorry,” he whimpered, his hands gripping onto the side of your hips as he began to work you up and down his cock at a quickening pace. “fuck, ren!” you were louder now, begging eren to fuck you nice and hard.

you were an angel, that much eren had decided, but, god, were you also the complete embodiment of sin. the sheer layer of sweat on your body, the bounce of your breasts, and, fuck, that expression on your face.

your pretty lips were parted, and your eyes were fluttered shut, and the twitch of eren’s cock from simply looking at your face was enough to tell him he wasn’t going to last much longer. “g-gonna cum,” he grunted, his breathing becoming manual now.

“need you-” his voice croaked as he let out a whimper. fuck, what were you doing to him? “need you, first,” his words were broken, but his point came across all the same.

before you could even respond and tell him that you were already close too, eren’s thumb was on your clit and rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves.

“oh fuck!” you squeaked before your orgasm came without warning. the clench and gush of your walls around his cock was more than enough motivation for eren to fill you up. “can i- inside?” eren was so loud now, begging with murmurs of “please,” as you came down from your orgasm.

“yes, yes, please inside,” you panted as eren’s cock pushed in and out of your sensitive walls. your consent was all eren needed before his warm seed was filling you up as he orgasmed with a loud moan of your name.

and as he came down, his cum still spurting inside of you in weak bursts, eren was sure that was the most he had ever cum. that much was evident from the way it began to leak from your hole and onto the base of eren’s cock.

you both panted as you came down, your head on eren’s shoulder. he placed a kiss on your neck as he tried to steady his breathing, his fingers playing with the soft skin on your hip.

you pulled away from eren’s shoulder, looking down at him from your position atop his lap. “that was,” “so good,” eren finished, the two of you breaking into a soft laugh.

he pulled you in for a kiss, unable to contain the smile on his lips.

and as the sound of the waves began to reenter eren’s ears, he couldn’t help the swell of his heart as he looked up at you, moonlight still shining on your pretty face.

a true gold-dust woman. his gold-dust woman.

fin! thank you for reading. i had been putting off this fic for so long, and finally i said enough was enough.

i passed the 1k milestone not too long ago, and this fic is for my 500 event, which says a lot about my procrastination. but, with that, i cannot thank you all enough.

thank you for reading my fics, for supporting me, it means the world.

so much love for you <3 - angel

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after-witch · 3 years

Note

AAA open requests?? i got so excited, i absolutely love your work and characterization hngnnhg <333 my request... uh... how about chrollo popping back into poor darling's life after she thought she mad a clean escape, started a new life, things were looking up, etc. whether or not you decide to do this, thank you for taking the time to read it !! have a good day <3

Title: Learn to Live [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Synopsis: After Chrollo, you learn to live again.

Word Count: 3528

Notes: yandere, mentions of abuse, chrollo is an asshole

You learn to live again.

It takes time. A lot of time. A year… two… now three.

But you learn to live again.

It doesn’t all come at once, but in steps, gradual increments that slowly allow something resembling normality to fall back into your life.

You learn to wake up in the morning and not dread opening your eyes, heart thudding in anticipation of his face being there. It took you more than a year to sleep fully through the night, body and mind no longer flinging themselves out of sleep at the slightest hint of noise.

You learn to enjoy the warmth of the sun through the windows, the sounds of birds and people; the telltale alarm-clock of a neighbor through thin apartment walls, the splatter of a baby’s bowl of cereal on the floor, no longer viewing every noise as a potential trick, a sign that your door was about to get busted open by the one person you never wanted to face again.

You learn to walk into a cafe for a lunch (your choice, your treat) and sit down to eat instead of grabbing takeout and running back to wherever you’re currently staying, slamming the locks (one, two--the third and fourth you bought from a security company) as fast as you can behind you. You learn not to jerk your head back every time a restaurant door opens, lest he waltz in and catch you unawares.

You learn to move less, to trust more. Changing rooms--motels, hotels, rental apartments, shelters, couch shares--every three days turns into every week turns into every month and now you’ve been settled for 6 months in the same place. It’s beginning to feel like home, and not just a place to stay, not just four walls between you and him.

You’re still cautious. Of course you are. Deep down, you know you’ll never be fully rid of the anxiety, the worry that he’s going to pop back up in your life. But it’s been so long, and you know him, and you know that if he was going to find you, he surely would have done it by now.

Maybe your constant moves, your wigs and fake names, your deliberate lack of a pattern threw him off your trail and now it’s impossible to pick it up again.

Maybe his goals and ambitions have finally taken precedence over his fascination, his obsession, with you.

Maybe he’s dead. It’s unlikely, but not impossible, that someone might finally get one over on Chrollo. It’s not like he’s short on enemies. So the thought that his body is cold and you’re forever out of his reach comes to mind, now and then, producing a frustrating complex reaction deep in your gut. You hate him, you do. And yet--.

It hasn’t been easy going for you. How could it be? You managed to escape and found yourself thrust back into the world--bright and busy and terrifying--with nothing to your name, nothing but the clothes on your back and shoes on your feet, feet that ran and ran until they bled, blisters popping.

You remember the first year vividly, like a dream you can’t shake away. Endless nights with hardly any sleep, waking up every time you seemed to get comfortable, fearful, worried. Running from city to city, town to town, sure that the moment you felt relaxed he would pounce. Making money any way you could--that is to say, not always making it, but stealing it, too. Doing jobs under the table, putting up with sweat and grease and groping hands at ratty diners, places that didn’t care about references or fake IDs.

Snatching bits of life where you could; a TV show in a motel room offering 20 minutes of levity, a book pilfered from a library where you didn’t want to fill out a library card, didn’t want to leave even a hint of paper trail behind you, keeping your attention as you take buses, trains, leaving places so quickly you don’t remember their names.

And all the while, looking over your shoulder, to the side, in front of you, constantly, always, hoping against hope that he doesn’t find you. Because he can’t. If he finds you--if he finds you after this, then you know you’ll never escape from him again. You get one chance with Chrollo, one shot, one unaware moment to blindside him.

And it was this knowledge that made living again so hard. Because if you slip… if you slip, and he finds you, then it will have all been for nothing.

But eventually, eventually, logic and reason begin to win out. It’s been a year. Then two years. And now three, almost three and a half. Three years that you’ve been free of him. His rules. His suffocating presence, hovering over you even when he was away from whatever apartment you were stashed in at the time.

You’re only human, aren’t you? And you can’t live on the run, can’t live with snatches of humanity forever. So you let yourself relax. You have to.

Your fears ease--not entirely, kept carefully cultivated along with a necessary amount of caution, embers that you won’t let go out--and eventually, eventually, something like happiness starts to replace them.

And it’s this happiness--not a floaty ethereal thing that slips through your fingers, but something more solid, something you can almost grip--which leads you to decide to put down some roots. Not permanent ones, not ones that will keep you somewhere forever. But roots that you hope will let your happiness grow bigger than a kitchen window sproutling, grow into something you can watch blossom.

So you find a town. A small town, but not too small. Quiet, but not too quiet. A town that could be a carbon-copy of so many others, a town that’s boring enough to be unassuming but not so boring that it’s a perfect place to hide. You know better than to pick those--it would be the first place he’d look.

It’s here, in the confines of this small town, that you take your first real steps back into living. It’s here that you find yourself able to stay longer, feel stronger; feel like he’s not ten steps behind you on the street, waiting to snatch you by the waist and drag you into the back of a car. It’s here that your roots flourish.

You rent an apartment and it’s cozy and small and perfect. You clip flowers from a hiking trail, tossing them into vases that someone had set up on their curb with a FREE sign; chipped and imperfect and waiting to be transformed again. Your apartment might be plain, and the hot water in your shower runs out too quickly and your next door neighbor likes to work out loudly at 6 AM, but at least it smells beautiful.

You apply for a job. One you like. Quiet and unassuming, a circulation assistant at the local library. You put books away and help old men learn to use computers to talk to their grandchildren and smile indulgently when children sign up for their first cards, scrawling their names with a slow, patience practice. You walk to a local restaurant every day for lunch, ordering the same thing so often that they have it ready to go almost right when you walk in.

You make friends. Not close ones--you can’t let anyone get that close to you, not anymore--but ones who you meet for drinks after work, who come over sometimes to watch movies and eat takeout. They share their secrets with you, and you make up secrets to share with them. It’s a nice sort of companionship, albeit one that makes you ache for your friends from before, friends you can never contact again, no matter how long it’s been since you escaped. You won’t ever risk it--risk them.

You’re even thinking about taking a class at the local community center. A night class, nothing fancy. They offer a surprising amount of programs, many of them aimed at retirees and parents whose children have flown the nest, looking for something to occupy their evenings or help them find a new career path. Language classes and hobby classes and skill training.

You’ve been thinking about signing up for a medical transcription class, something you can use to make extra money on the side. It would be nice to afford newer clothes, stuff that isn’t from the thrift shop, outdated and worn but comfy enough. Of course, you’ll have to save up to pay for the class’s hefty fee first--$1,000.

It’s the transcription course and the dancing numbers that are on your mind when something happens that causes those well-kept embers of fear to flare up, dancing sparks on your skin.

You’re back from lunch, the taste of your regular order (salad, fries, chocolate milkshake) still on your lips. You brought the community center’s class catalog to lunch and had browsed through it as you ate, dipped your fries in your shake, nibbled on tomatoes and cucumbers.

When you got back to the library, it was quiet--no surprise, the most bustle in the day typically happened before lunch, when the children’s story time brought in parents and nannies with sleep-deprived eyes, eager (and some not-so-eager) children in tow. Sometimes older people came in after lunchtime, egg salad and coffee on their breath, asking you to help them on the computer. Occasionally, a college student, home for the semester, walking the book stacks with looks that you thought were nostalgia

But today, after lunch, nobody else is in the library except yourself and the staff busy in the back, sorting through the drop-box piles, checking for damage, repairing books stained with drinks or drawn-in by children with access to too many crayons.

So to say you are surprised by the appearance of an elegantly-dressed woman, heels tapping on the dingy carpet, would be an understatement.

She’s dressed up, that’s for certain--far too dressy to be waltzing into the library. A deep red dress clings to her body, trailing down past her knees, a large slit in the side offering a glimpse of her thigh. Her hair is styled, but a bit messy, tousled, trailing behind her shoulders and down her back. Her lipstick is ever-so-smeared and you try not to stare. You wonder if she’s an actress, maybe, or--well, it’s not your place to judge, and you shove the thoughts aside.

“Can I help you?” you ask, voice an octave or two higher, customer-service-mode.

She waits a few moments before answering, as if she’s not sure exactly what she’s doing here, either.

“Oh, yes. I’m looking for books on relationships. You know,” she continues, leaning across the reference desk, voice lower and breath tinged with wine and a morning without mouthwash, “relationship… advice.” Her cadence seems off and there’s something odd, something wrong, but you can’t quite pin it down. She seems drunk, almost.

You smile. You hope it doesn’t seem forced. Your mind reels for a moment, running down the classification system drummed into your head after you landed the job.

“Relationship help is probably going to be in the 305s or 306s. You might find some in the 150s, too.” You pause. “But if you need any more help, please let me know and I’ll go check the catalog.”

She leans back, straightening, seeming almost doll-like in her movements.

“Thank you,” she says, smiling, showing her teeth, the smear of her lipstick. She turns and starts walking away towards the shelves, and you can’t help but notice she’s limping a little. Maybe she’s not drunk--maybe she’s…

You make a mental note to check on her in a bit, look her over again. Maybe you missed some signs that she needs help. Bruising? Shaking? Maybe she got in a fight with her boyfriend last night and he roughed her up and she’s trying to find ways to fix him. Maybe not, maybe you’re just looking for signs of things that aren’t there, an overactive imagination spurned on by your own history. But it’s better to be safe than sorry. Better to be wrong and overreacting than right and passive.

You find that you don’t want to wait, actually, so you stick your cheery “Be Right Back!” sign on your desk and get up, slowly making your way towards the stacks where the woman wandered off.

You’ll just take a look, you think, just to see if there are signs of bruises that you can ask about. You imagine, briefly, quickly, in a rush: asking her if she’s all right, her tearing up, you offering her your shoulder and directing her to a private room and asking if she is in danger and if she needs to call the police and if she has a safe place to stay.

You don’t know why you imagine all this so suddenly. Maybe the nurturing of your own freedom makes you more eager to help others.

Maybe you just want to imagine doing something with your life that isn’t so damn passive.

You’ve been running for so long, and now that you’re building a life for yourself, why not help others? Why not make a difference, instead of being a ghost, a shadow, a diner waitress one night and a thief the next morning and a box hauler the next afternoon? Always fading into the background, always changing your looks, afraid, terrified, that someone will recognize you and point the way. Point Chrollo right toward you.

But now, here, in this town, you can be something more than a wisp. You can be someone. You can be that nice library worker who notices when kids need help finding their parents, when an elderly person isn’t getting enough to eat, when a woman comes into the library with suspicious bruises and a need for relationship advice. You can be someone.

So you weave your way into the stacks, conscious of being quiet, of not seeming like you’re following her. You want her to be comfortable with you. You catch a glimpse of her hair, of her body bent over, scanning the books.

And then a voice comes from behind you.

“You always were a soft one, weren’t you?”

You always thought you’d run, when he found you. You thought you’d grab the nearest heavy object and chunk it directly into his face and run as fast as you could, tearing through doors and crowds to find an escape route.

Instead you are frozen to the spot. Incapable of moving. Incapable of doing anything but shaking, a cold, horrible terror shooting through you as your hear his footsteps getting closer. They seem to sound in slow motion, everything feels slow, the air around you stagnant as his hands wrap around your waist, as his chin dips to rest on the top of your head.

Despite the years, his touch is still so familiar. Despite the years, his cologne sparks memories.

The woman from earlier steps into view, her movements now more erratic than before. You hear Chrollo tapping on something, and she drops to the ground.

Ah. There’s antenna sticking out of the back of her neck.

“Is she--” you begin, stopping yourself when you realize you don’t want to know the answer.

He hums, not answering your question.

You suppose it doesn’t matter. You won’t be around long enough in this town to find out if she’s okay, or if the little girl who picked out a new book series enjoyed them, or if you’d ever be able to save up the money for the transcription course. You’re not going to take a night class or eat your lunch at the cafe or walk along the hiking trail, looking for new flowers. All that is over. You learned to live again and it didn’t even matter. It didn’t even matter.

Sweat trickles down your back, and you start to feel hyper-aware of it all. The way his arms are wrapped around you, solid and constricting. The way his breath passes over your head, gentle and calm, unlike your own increasingly erratic breathing. The way his grip is pressing you against his back, unrelentingly close.

You feel sapped of energy when he lets go, unable to move as he steps around, helpless to avoid it when his hand grips your chin and forces you to look up--to look at him.

His gaze is unreadable, as it always was. That much hasn’t changed.

“You’ve had your… fun,” he says, the last word coming out so condescending that you can’t help but feel hurt. “But it’s time to end this now. We’re going back.”

Your throat feels dry and your voice croaks a little when you speak, a spark of defiance running through the coldness that kept you still earlier.

“How long have you known? How did you find me?”

Did you make a mistake? When did you make it? You want to know--you have to know. Was it someone else who gave him the lead, or did you leave a breadcrumb somewhere, or maybe a host of breadcrumbs that led him here, led him to you. You were being smart about it, you really were. So how?

He keeps your chin in his hand as he tilts your face to one side, then the other. Examining you like you were a pet, a project, a rat in a lab to be studied and written about.

“I see.” He gives a soft smile and the sight of it makes your stomach twist. “You think knowing when I found out will make you feel better about all this.” He drops his hand, but you keep your chin up at his gaze as he shoves his hands in his pockets, the smile he’s bearing now smug and satisfied.

“Suffice to say that I’ve kept up with you for some time. You’re quite the little adventurer, when you need to be. It’s something I admire about you.”

His smile, the banter, all of it sparks memories that gives you back something inside you. The version of you that you imagined would get the hell out of dodge the moment you saw him again.

“Just leave me alone,” you say, practically spitting. “Just--just fuck off and leave me alone. I’m happy here.”

He purses his lips.

“Don’t be so stubborn, dear. I can still kill her, you know.” He jerks his head towards the woman on the floor, and you can now see that her chest is rising and falling. “Or the others working in the back.” He brings a hand out of his pocket, holding his chin in a practiced gesture of thought. “Perhaps we can visit that diner you were at for lunch. Or your friends. What’s her name, the one who always has one drink too many when you go out?”

He’ll kill them. Of course he will. He’s told you as much before. Only know it’s a new set of people, people you like, people you imagined liking you. People you wanted to live with, if only for a short time. But he’ll kill them, and it will be your fault. He’s told you that before, too. That anything he does is up to you. It’s up to you if he takes you outside, if he lets you eat at restaurants, if he lets you visit museums and gardens and shopping malls with him. It’s up to you if he kills your friends and family, or if they stay safe and sound.

It’s up to you if you walk out of this library, out of his town, with blood on your hands.

You feel your entire body sag in defeat, deflating energy seeping into the floor. You stare behind him, at a bookshelf. Someone clearly ignored the sign telling patrons to put books on the cart, not the shelf, and they put it back in the wrong spot. You reach out, side stepping him, ignoring the curious look on his face as you fix the patron’s mistake.

You close your eyes when it’s done, shutting out the sight of the books you’ll never touch, never rearrange, again.

“What do you want me to do?”

You feel his touch, his hand around your shoulder, and that’s answer enough. You’re going with him. You’re going back with him, wherever that means. An apartment or penthouse or hotel. And you’re never going to leave, because like hell he’ll give you this opportunity again. You slipped, you slipped and you’re stuck.

“There’s my smart girl,” he says.

You don’t feel smart anymore.

He squeezes your shoulder before wrapping his arm around it, guiding you away from the stack, away from the unconscious woman on the floor. Towards the entrance of the library, every step feeling like lead, like dragging your legs through water. You can see a nondescript car waiting at the front entrance, engine on. You dread the idea of getting inside. You dread the idea of hearing the door slam, of knowing Chrollo will be there every step of the way.

You glance back at the reference desk as you’re lead out the door. You never had time to take down the sign.

Be Right Back!

#yandere chrollo #yandere hunter x hunter #chrollo x reader #yandere #afterwitch writes #;; I LOVE THIS TYPE OF PROMPT it's so mean #like sorry you thought you were gonna y'know. live a life. oh darling..

1K notes · View notes

lokisprettygirl · 2 years

Text

Mystery of Laufey Manor (Loki x Female Reader) (Au)

Read chapter 1 here

Chapter 2

Summary : Loki visits you again and the attraction you have for him grows stronger

Warning : Mention of disability, fire hazard

After you came home that night you showered, changed into your night wear, warmed up a day old pizza and placed the kettle on the stove to make yourself a cup of tea. Your apartment just had a living room and a bedroom with a separate kitchen, it was on the second floor, a few blocks away from the shop you had. It was interconnected via stairs with the apartment right above you. Your mom and dad bought the apartment on the third floor when you were born, to accommodate their three children. They didn't want to leave this place or this city, they grew up in Brooklyn and never wanted to leave

After you were born, they used the living room on the third floor as kid's room, the bedroom was used as a nursery for you and the kitchen was used as a storage. When your dad died last year, you moved from your place to this apartment permanently as it was closer to the shop. You tried to rent out the rooms above you for extra earning. You even had the tenants, but all of them moved out merely in a few weeks.

They always complained of the knocks they heard, or the shadow they saw in the storage, one of your tenants was so shaken up by something she saw in the middle of the night that she left right then. Some of them even blamed you for causing all this. The activities often increased whenever you had someone staying over, or if you had ex boyfriends staying the night. But when you were alone it wasn't as bad. You still felt the familiar presence around you but it didn't feel malicious.

After eating dinner you decided to sleep, your mind wandered towards the masked stranger you met today, there was something about him, you couldn't explain it, something magnetic. You couldn't even see his face, a black mask covered everything except those eyes. But the way he talked pulled you in closer, you had never felt such a need to find more about a person than you did with him. You closed your eyes and almost fell asleep when you heard a woman crying.

You quickly sat up on the bed as you heard the faint l cry, the goosebumps erupted all over your skin as the cry started to get louder and louder with every passing second. You looked at your bedroom door and it was wide open, you clearly remembered closing it before you got in bed. You tried to turn on the bedside lamp but it didn't work, the window on your left casted the moonlight inside the room and your eyes stayed glued towards the door. The cry started to grow louder as if someone was walking slowly from the end of the living room to your room.

"Runnnnn away little girl..runnn now" you heard a female's voice in a sing-song manner then she started to cry again. Footsteps approached closer and closer, you closed your eyes as you knew if you didn't you'd see something on your doorway but then it all stopped. Quiet, too quiet. It got silent. You could hear your heartbeat thumping Inside, you opened your eyes slowly and screamed as a smiling face appeared right in front of you.

You sat up on the bed as you screamed and turned the lamp on. You took a deep breath as you realized that you were having a nightmare. It wasn't real, it wasn't real. You chanted to yourself and kept the light on until dusk. You just couldn't sleep after that.

Next day when you opened the shop, you tried to focus on your work. Terry was on her day off today so you had to manage everything on your own. You prepared the spice sachets for Loki according to the quantity he wrote on the paper, he also wanted different spices individually like turmeric and black pepper etc. So you prepared those too. You didn't know but you felt nervous calling him. You called him twice on the number he gave you but he didn't pick up.

Around 6 in the evening you watched him entering your shop. He was slightly wet because of the rain.

"I'm sorry my lady, I came uninformed, I actually was occupied throughout the day" you smiled as you heard his deep velvety voice. He took his hat off and kept the cane aside. You could see the burn marks on his forehead that he tried to cover with the strands of his hair. He caught you staring and you quickly went to the storage room and brought a towel for him so he could dry himself off. He didn't dress as formally as he did yesterday. Well he did, minus the coat. He only had his waistcoat on with a white shirt underneath. He took the towel from you as you offered him.

"Fire accident" he said to you as you were placing the spices he ordered in one bag.

"Sorry, what?" You looked at him and he pointed towards his forehead.

"Ohh that's.. I'm sorry I didn't mean to stare earlier, that was rude of me" you apologized to him and he tilted his head.

"It's okay to be curious darling" you felt your face heating up again at the mention of the sweet pet name.

"Is that why you have the mask on?" You looked at him and he nodded

"Wouldn't want to scare the children off " he chuckled but you just felt the urge to hug him for that. Nobody deserves to feel that way.

"I don't think you can, you're kind and sweet from what I can tell, there are people who value those traits" you wanted to add how good he smelled, and how sexy his voice sounded but you didn't want to seem like a pervy creep.

"Oh you'd be surprised by how shallow people can be Miss y/n"

Oh let me prove you otherwise

You couldn't even believe your inner thoughts as they screamed at you. What was it about this man that made you so .. wanton? You were so lost in your feelings that you didn't even notice that you never told him your name

"I'm sorry you had to meet such people" you passed him the bag and he placed it on the counter. He pulled a wallet out from his pocket to pay you.

"Please be kind enough to keep the change" he told you so you placed the dollar bills he gave you in the cash drawer. His fingers brushed against yours and you felt the familiar sensation that you did yesterday.

"Thank you, are you from around here?" He put the wallet inside his back pocket and looked at you, his hair seemed curly and frazzled today. You wondered if he had a rough day.

"No, I'm from Dorset, Uk. Ever heard of the place?" He asked you and you shook your head. He's from the UK, which means he will leave soon.

"I figured with the accent and all. Here on business?"

"Yes, kind of. I'm looking for investors to fund my textile business. Trying to incorporate more machinery to the mill" you nodded as you heard him.

"But that would mean less labour right? people would lose their jobs" he smiled as he heard you.

"Yes but it would be safer for those who'd hold the job"

"So how long will you be here?" You bit on your lips mindlessly as you asked him that.

"As long as it will take me to get what I want"

"Well I hope you find what you're looking for" he put his hand out just like yesterday, and you placed yours in his.

"I always do darling, I always get whatever I desire" he leaned down and placed a seemingly innocent kiss on the back of your hand. Your breath hitched at the contact, but like yesterday he didn't let go you felt his thumb rubbing against your hand instead. The touch seemed so innocuous but it fired you up instantly. You felt hot just by his thumb rubbing against your hand, this man seemed so fine but he was here on a temporary business. Starting something else with him seemed like a bad idea.

"Uhhh I .." you stuttered on your words so he let go of you.

"Apologies pretty lady, I got lost there for a moment"

"It's alright..I " you were going to say something when you heard the doorbell ring and one of your old friends entered the shop. You have known Steve since you both were 10, went to the same school, briefly dated in high school but the spark wasn't there. It's not that he was not a looker, he had women fawning after him, blonde hair, blue eyes, tall stature and well built , he had everything going for him but you never felt the attraction that you deeply craved from the opposite sex. You needed more than just a good looking face or body, you needed someone to touch your soul. You wanted to feel connected on a deeper level.

"Hey Steve, how are you?" you smiled at him and you saw Loki eyeing him up and down.

"I'm good dolly, how are you? Here to get paprika, seeing mom today and you know she loves your peppers in her chili"

You walked towards the spice shelves on the other side and filled the empty wrapper with paprika and passed it to him.

"It's on me.. tell her that I'll visit soon, I miss her chili"

"Sure thing, you can just come with me" he smirked at you. He still flirted with you or tried to whenever he could.

"I'm sorry I can't, I have to be at the shop and I'm expecting some customers around 7.. besides you should take Linda with you" you told him politely.

"Oh we broke up like last month, it wasn't working out"

"Oh I'm sorry" you mumbled softly but the next thing he said made you roll your eyes.

"They are not you"

"Shutup steve.." you chuckled.

"Who's this guy, what's with the mask?" He looked at Loki and your eyes widened at the rudeness.

"Steveee" you glared at him, hoping he would take a hint

"Whatt I was just asking" he shrugged

"I should take my leave anyways, it was nice to see you, thank you for this" he picked up his cane and the bag of spices, and started to walk away.

"Please visit if you need more" you yelled and he turned his head to look at you, then he nodded politely.

"That dude seemed fucked up"

"What's wrong with you?" You glared at him, maybe Loki was right about people being cruel and shallow to him.

"What ? Did you see his eyes? He seemed like a Predator" Steve said to you and you shook your head

"At Least he has manners, you got your peppers right? Now leave"

"Are you seriously offended by this?" Steve had a dumbfounded expression on his face

"Just leave okay, I don't want to fight with you..say hello to aunt Carol" he shook his head in disbelief and left the shop. As soon as he left you saw Loki's hat on the counter, he must have forgotten it. Around 8 pm you started to clean out and went to the storage room to tidy everything up. You have never really liked that room even as a kid. It gave you heebies, it was a small room, right in front of the door on the other side was a window to the back area. Shelves on both sides and there was a small wooden box under the window where you kept valuables and personal stuff. You tried to turn the light on but apparently the bulb wasn't working anymore. You picked up the candle from the shelf and lit it up, then you put it inside the candle holder and placed it on the box under the window.

You saw the candle light flickering and It made you aware of your surroundings. It was raining heavily outside but the window was closed and there was no way for wind to get inside. It kept flickering and then it got dark as the candle extinguished on its own, you felt a touch on your shoulder and that made you scream loudly, you kept screaming as you felt someone pushing you against the shelf

"Shhh it's okay it's me darling..it's me" Loki placed his palm on your mouth to stop you from screaming. You couldn't see him but you heard his voice, you placed your hands on his chest, he was soaking wet from the rain. Your heart was thumping loudly in your chest, for a moment you felt as if you got attacked by some entity you couldn't see. When you realized it was Loki, you instantly wrapped your arms around his neck as small sobs escaped your lips.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you so badly" he held onto your waist from the sides and the touch made you pull away, not because it didn't feel good to be held like that, kind of opposite actually. You walked out of the storage room and went back to the store. He followed you right after.

"It's not your fault, I just got spooked, sorry about that"

"I forgot my hat, I didn't see you here and I called out to you but the thunderstorm concealed my voice I suppose" he walked past you and picked up his hat from the counter. Saying that you felt embarrassed would be an understatement. Why did you have to hug him like that?

"Do you not have an umbrella? It's raining heavily" you asked him and he shook his head.

"You can take mine" you moved behind the counter and passed him the umbrella.

"And how would you go home?"

"I uhh.."

"You're willing to get soaked for me love?" Your face heated up at the double innuendo. You didn't even know this man, why did he affect you so much?

"Umm you should go back to your place, or you'll get sick in these drenched clothes" you mumbled to get rid of the awkwardness.

"Unfortunately I don't have a place, I am actually looking for a hotel, but everything is booked"

"What happened to the hotel you were living in?"

"Found a dead mouse under the mattress, had to get out of there, I'm a bit silly about hygiene" he chuckled and you couldn't help but wonder what he must look like behind the mask.

"As you should be, I have been looking for tenants , have a spare room, would you like to move in for the time being, you'll have your own kitchen, it's on the other floor, you won't have to see me if you don't want to..I mean to say that you'd have your own entry door if that's what you prefer, separate floors..you know what never mind"

You had never been so embarrassed in your life as you felt in that moment.

However, he accepted your offer, and he moved into your apartment on the third floor that night itself. It took longer for you to get home as he walked very slowly. When you asked him about his leg he told you that he was trapped under a burning log and it completely shattered his right knee cap. You felt awful for him at that moment. He lost his face and his leg because of an accident but it didn't change the way you saw him.

It scared you that you could see past that, the way he talked to you made you feel closer to him. His presence around you felt comforting.

You just didn't know what you were getting yourself into.

💀💀💀💀💚💚💚💚💀💀💀💀💀💀

Taglist : @alltoomess @nonsensicalobsessions @michelleleewise @ladymischief11 @keegansakura @perhaps-just-june @daddylokisqueen @chaotics17 @colifower @crystalmoon-13 @wheredafandomat @snigdha-14

#loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki x reader insert #loki x you #loki x reader fic #loki au #loki horror au

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smileysuh · 3 years

Text

patience

🌙 staring. Johnny & Haechan x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. Unfortunately, after a long day of work, both Johnny and Haechan are very close to being at their breaking point. When you walk past your window wearing a cute bra- well, to the men watching you from the street below, you’re all but begging to be plucked from your safe life and dragged into a world of strict bedroom roles and rich boys who are in desperate need of someone to help get their frustrations out- luckily for them, they have the god complexes and the money to make that wish come true.

cw/tw. yandere warning, voyeurism, stalking, toxic friend, toxic yandere JohnHyuck, conniving, master!Haechan, dom!/Yandere JohnHyuck, size kink, rough sex, bdsm, safe words, unprotected sex, threesome, multiple orgasms, fingering, choking, hair pulling, manhandling, marking/bruising, boob worship, spit roasting, blow job, hand job, lots of finger sucking, reader as ‘sex toy/doll’, creampie, Haechan oral fixation, lots of pet names, spanking, finger sucking, god complexes, etc... I petnames. (hers) good/pretty girl, toy, doll, gorgeous, etc. (John's) daddy. (Hyuck's) master.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9k

🍭 aus. yandere/horror au, ceo/non idol au, etc...

☀️ mlist + an. this fic has been edited/extended on patreon as of april 2023 :)

The first time Haechan sees you, you’re crossing the street and walk right past him.

It’s a cloudy day, but there’s light enough in the greyness of it all for him to appreciate your beauty.

His eyes follow you and his head turns, eyes assessing you up and down quickly. He sucks his cherry flavoured lollipop into his mouth greedily, fresh saliva running over his tongue and making it all the more sweet. He’s so enraptured in you that he almost runs into a power pole, only to quickly adjust, side step it, and stop at the street corner.

He turns sideways while he waits at the crosswalk, and this allows him to casually look to his left, watching you get farther away. When the light changes, he nearly skips across the street, hands not leaving the warm safety of the pockets of one of Johnny’s hoodie denim combo jackets he’d insisted Haechan wear on days when he’s on the prowl due to the unquenchable voyeuristic urges they both feel.

When Haechan’s on the other side of the street, he makes a left so he can shadow you from the opposite side of the street. One of his hands adjusts the black baseball cap on his head. He pulls off the sunglasses he’d worn because he can’t stand to have your figure obscured by anything. His fox-like eyesight latches onto you, and anyone that passes him can see he’s on the prowl, however you - across the road and about five yards ahead - have no idea of your second shadow.

Haechan follows you diligently. He memorizes the way you walk and sizes up your body the way Johnny had taught him.

You’re going to make the perfect little pet, and he knows this because you lead him straight to your apartment building. It’s so easy that Haechan almost feels bad.

He’d thought maybe you were going to work, or school- he’d ached for a long chase, a proper stalk to get to know you, to see if you have any friends or rivals he should be aware of.

But now it has ended too soon.

When light suddenly catches Haechan’s attention on the third floor he laughs, adjusting his baseball cap again as he steps back, out of the way of the traffic of people on the street. He looks around, eyes landing on a bench that, coincidentally, looks directly up to your apartment. Or, what he assumes to be your apartment.

When Haechan settles himself down on the bench, stretching like a cat and grinning at the pleasant turn of events this day has taken, he finds himself laughing again when movement catches his eye.

You’re standing by the window, tending to a plant, and you have no idea that he can see you.

Haechan usually likes to give girls a fighting chance, to have things be a challenge. You’ve led him right into your safe space. How could he possibly resist this now?

Johnny understands why Haechan likes you so much.

He’s not sure how many times he’s shadowed you now, often with Haechan. But tonight, it’s just you, him, and fifty feet of empty street separating one soul from her handsome shadow.

Johnny had been lucky enough to get a text from a mutual friend that he’d… acquired, that you’d be walking home this way. So now here he is.

The man from Chicago is in an all black outfit with a duster, baseball cap, and a matching mask to hide his features from any curious people that lumber by Johnny as he follows you home.

When Haechan had brought Johnny out for a walk, introducing the prospect of you as a new submissive, Johnny had been tentative. Their last object of “mutual affection” hadn’t lasted long… and Johnny had made it clear that they’d have to think this through if they were going to find a replacement for their last girl.

Walking with you like this - albeit fifty feet behind you - on a Tuesday night feels normal to Johnny already. He knows Haechan has a particularly strong enjoyment of you, and as far as the tall man from Chicago is concerned, you’re already theirs... you just don’t know it yet.

Johnny likes the way you move to the side anytime you pass a man on the street, and he makes sure to give them his own predatory smirk when they inevitably brush by his own shoulder. He thinks you have a decent caution level when it comes to strangers, and he thinks that’s a good thing. He enjoys smart girls.

Johnny knows where you’re both headed when you turn down your street and he instinctively crosses to the other side. He doesn’t even need to watch you anymore as you head into your building.

You’re on the third floor, he knows where.

He takes his seat on the bench.

It’s just getting dark out, so Johnny won’t stay for long. As he looks around the street, your light comes on, and while that interests him, he knows you won’t be at the window for a while.

Johnny waits patiently, eyes tracking people as they walk by, until motion in your window tells him you’re doing your night routine, and he can make out your form when you’re near the glass.

Johnny likes the closeness that nights like these provide for him. He enjoys knowing how safe you feel up in your home... even whilst he lurks around just outside your window.

He particularly loves it when he catches you in private moments; brushing your teeth and dancing in your living room to music he hopes he’ll one day be able to hear, the way you stretch right after opening the blinds some mornings to let in the sunshine of the coming day.

“Hey.” Haechan’s voice draws Johnny’s attention from your window and he watches his best friend take the seat next to him. Haechan’s also dressed fully in black, but he doesn't have a mask, which would get in the way of the red lollipop he always seems to be sucking on.

Johnny knows Haechan enjoys shadowing you too, and this isn’t the first time they’ve bumped into each other while simultaneously giving in to the ‘voyeuristic tendencies’ they try so desperately to hide during the rest of their day to day lives.

It doesn’t help that work’s been extra stressful lately.

Both Johnny and Haechan come from money, and they run a successful company with a number of close associates. Their positions as rich boy ceo’s mean Johnny and Haechan have been able to go through life being handed everything they could possibly want. They’re greedy, impatient, and above all, Haechan and Johnny don’t take no for an answer.

Unfortunately, after a long day of work, both Johnny and Haechan are very close to being at their breaking point. When you walk past your window wearing a cute bra- well, to the men watching you from the street below, you’re all but begging to be plucked from your safe life and dragged into a world of strict bedroom roles and rich boys who are in desperate need of someone to help get their frustrations out- luckily for them, they have the god complexes and the money to make that wish come true.

Tonight’s the night and Haechan knows it.

His skin is buzzing, from the shot whiskey he’d downed or from the thrill of the chase, Haechan’s not sure.

His lollipop clicks against his teeth as he sucks on the cherry sugar, tongue running it across his lips and leaving sweet, artificial, fruity flavour in its wake.

His eyes are fixed on you where you’re standing by the bar.

You’d shown up with your best friends, and one of them, not so coincidentally, is their mutual contact.

Haechan had brushed by Mark Lee earlier, who’s small nod is the only interaction they’ll have tonight as the Canadian made his way over to the bar to join you and the girls nearly ten minutes ago.

From Mark’s intel, which he’s gathered after having befriended your friend group through a different girl on tinder, Haechan knows a lot about every one of you.

Tonight, you’re with Mark, his new friend/fuck buddy (your friend), and the main party girl who’d dragged you here (your new friend).

The main party girl, who Mark refers to as the ‘alpha gatekeeper’ is who they need to get out of the equation tonight. She glares at creepy men who come near you, and Haechan respects that, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to be sized up too well by a friend… who would be really concerned if something were to happen to you… like, for example, if you were to go missing.

Beside him, Johnny says something that makes the group of girls they’re talking to laugh. Haechan can’t even pretend to be interested in them, not when he’s so close to you, just a few feet away-

A hand on Haechan’s forearm drags Haechan back into the moment and he’s forced to meet Johnny’s eyes. The elder shoots him a look that says ‘calm down’ but Haechan can’t listen.

The last time they’d picked out a girl, they’d gotten her home by flirting with her in a bar. She’d gone with them willingly, and Johnny had even insisted on letting her have some freedoms… which she’d abused immediately, in Haechan’s opinion at least.

This feels different, and Haechan doesn’t want another doll slipping through his fingers.

You’re his. He wants to walk right up to you and simply take you home. Wants to throw you on the bed and tell you how it’s going to be, your opinions be damned-

But, as Johnny’s reminded Haechan all day, the point is to make you want to stay with them. If Haechan grabs you and squeezes too tightly too fast, he risks scaring you off… but that would just mean he’d have to chase you, and Haechan isn’t opposed to that.

Haechan watches you and your friends move to the dance floor and he pushes off from his own table, drawing Johnny’s attention.

Squaring his shoulders, Haechan makes it clear to Johnny that he’s done waiting. They’d come to the bar for a reason and he’ll be damned if he waits another moment without touching you, he thinks he’s waited well past long enough.

Johnny joins Haechan in wading into the crowd.

At first, Haechan finds a safe option, a pretty girl with more than enough admirers. The predatory man stays in her general vicinity for some time, watching you and your friends as Mark breaks off with his girl. This leaves just you and your alpha friend. Mark had said she’s a total flirt, and soon, she breaks off with a Yuta Nakamoto of all people. This is the club they come to frequently, and Haechan wonders if the elder man had been invited by Johnny for this very reason, to distract your cock block.

When it comes to the two men who have their sights set on you, they’re very different in approach. Johnny’s a good talker, that much became obvious last time they ensnared a pretty girl. But Haechan is more raw energy, the sexual power that hooks his prey and draws them in close.

He decides tonight will be no different.

Haechan invades your space as soon as you’re free of your friends, and one look at his pretty face seems to be enough for you to decide he’s alright, because soon you’re pressing your ass back against Haechan as his hands explore your body.

He can’t help the rush of endorphins that floods his form, nor the pride he takes at the fact that you’d so easily accepted him.

He’s waited so long for this, and his heart is racing in his chest as he smooths himself against you. You smell good, and Haechan removes the lollipop from his mouth, holding it out in front of your face and wordlessly offering to you.

When you accept the treat, grabbing it with your mouth, Haechan puts his lips to better use, pressing tentative kisses to your neck that become more aggressive as he searches for your sweet spot. You reach for him, tangling your fingers in Haechan’s hair and tugging gently, which prompts him to grip your waist tighter, hips rutting against your ass.

Another body appears in front of you, and Haechan looks up at Johnny, who’s grinning down at the both of you. Haechan’s not in the mood for explaining their relationship to you or doing small talk, so he reaches out and grabs Johnny’s shirt, bringing him in closer and solidifying their friendship to you as you’re pressed tighter between them.

You can’t believe your luck, to have not one but two gorgeous men giving you their complete attention- you live for this. You come to clubs to get a hit of attention, and the two men doting on you are more than you could have ever hoped for.

The man behind you is a walking sex god, and you’re still sucking diligently on the delicious lollipop he’d relinquished to you in favour of marking your neck.

Your skin feels sticky where he’s left open mouthed kisses that oddly enough feel sexy and sinful in all of the right ways.

The taller guy in front of you is just as gorgeous as his friend, his height making your size kink scream and your fanny flutter like a motherfucker.

You wrap one arm around the tall man’s neck, your other hand still tugging at the hair of the man behind you. Your bodies are all moving to the music and you drag the taller one in so you can kiss him.

He stops just out of reach, gently grabbing at the lollipop that your relinquish to him, watching him offer it instead to the man who’s stopped kissing your neck to receive it with an open mouth.

Only then are you rewarded by soft lips and a tongue that glides across your own. A large hand cups your jaw, forcing you to tilt your head up as the man gets closer, kissing you even deeper.

Behind you, Haechan’s hips press forward, a small groan leaving his lips at the pressure your ass provides on his cock. He’s revved up and ready to go, skin crawling with a tingling sensation that makes Haechan want to grab you and get out of here.

He’s too hot, surrounded by dancing bodies and clothes, he needs you alone, in a bed, unburdened by fabrics and things that would keep you from his greedy fingers and eager lips-

“You here with friends, gorgeous?” Johnny’s deep voice makes Haechan want to laugh. As if they don’t know the answer to the question as well as the addresses of all three of the friends you’re here with tonight, including sweet Mark, who they’ve known for years.

“A few,” you respond.

“Want to come home with us?” Haechan nips at your earlobe, enjoying the way goosebumps erupt on your arms from the brief movement. He ghosts his nose over your neck, smirking as he inhales your pretty scent and waits for your answer.

“Ok.”

One little word, and it sounds so confident coming from you even as your body shakes from anxiety, betraying your feelings to the man eagerly pressing himself to your body. He loves it, loves the control you are so willing to give to him.

“But I should say goodbye to my friends,” you add, which Haechan doesn’t mind. He’s sure Mark will be more than supportive of you heading home with them, all under the guise of being your ‘new friend Mark’ when in reality, he’s their friend Mark.

Haechan will make sure to prove you’ve given control to the right person by going home with him. He vows that tonight he’s going to get you completely addicted to his cock. He’s going to give you absolutely everything he can possibly give you, till you’re crying from cumming, and once you’re his broken little cock slut, you’ll never be able to leave.

They brought the black suv instead of one of the fancier two seater sports cars. Haechan had argued that they could tell you to sit on his lap, but Johnny had made it clear that nothing of the sort would be taking place. Being invited home by two men is already a little out of the ordinary, they don’t need to set any more red flags off with other weird behaviours. Besides, you’ll get used to Haechan’s crazy ideas soon enough.

When their car is brought around to the front of the club- they’re that kind of rich - Johnny opens the door to the back seat for you. He offers you a smile, but as you move past him to enter the car, you have a distinct eerie feeling that you can’t put your finger on, so you ignore it.

Haechan sits in front of you, head tilted down as his eyes scan his phone. You can hear the clicking of his lollipop against his teeth when he gives it a particularly harsh suck, and the idea of what else his mouth can do is making you wetter than you’ll ever admit to anyone.

Johnny takes the driver's seat and he adjusts the rearview mirror so he can look at you. “Are you sure you don’t want us to take you back to your place, gorgeous?”

He’s giving you too many opportunities to back out, and it just makes you want him even more.

What could possibly be so dangerous that he has to give you an out in this way? He’s big, and his friend has something dark in those rich chocolate coloured irises, but you really can’t imagine you have anything to be afraid of.

“You hiding a dead body in your closet?” you tease, leaning forward to peak your head between the two seats.

Johnny laughs, setting one hand on the top of the steering wheel as the engine revs to life. “Something like that.”

“Do you guys live far?” you ask next, eyes turning to Haechan’s phone, which he’s hooked up to the bluetooth.

“No, we’re in one of the new condos down here,” Johnny says as you whip through the downtown of Seoul. You knew they were rich from looking at them, but to have a new condo in downtown Seoul?

“Okay, maybe you two really are hit men,” you breathe, a joke, but their laughter is just a millisecond too late and slightly too forced to steady your rapidly increasing heart rate.

“We’re part owners of NCT corp actually-” Johnny explains.

“We do everything,” Haechan adds, “technology, housing, security.”

You can’t help but laugh a little. “Security? Wow, you mean a window lock doesn't do the trick anymore?”

“Not if someone is particularly interested in coming inside.” Haechan’s voice is low, and he’s talking to himself more than actually answering you. The eariness of his words prompts you to ask for expansion on Haechan’s thoughts, but before you can, Johnny is speaking again.

“I’m sure if you’re not on the bottom floor of your building you’re safe.”

Safe from most regular run of the mill burglars, but not from them, not from seasoned voyeurisms with a tendency for obsessive behaviours such as building scaling in order to look into specific windows.

Johnny hasn’t done it himself, Haechan’s really the more determined of the two when it comes to having his eyes on his prey. No, Johnny instead inquired on the apartment directly across from yours and had been more upset than he’d care to admit when the renter had declined his offer to take over their lease and pay them out. He’d been pissed for a few days and Haechan had suggested they simply kill the renter and take the apartment, but Johnny had vetoed that idea and pushed up their plan to finally make contact with you.

After all, now that you’re in his car, in the claws of the beast, two beasts, there’s no escape. Neither Johnny nor Haechan need the apartment across the street from yours now because you’re theirs.

You don’t know it, sitting there, comfy and chatting with the two gorgeous ceo’s, but you’re theirs now, and they have no intention of ever giving you up.

You pull into the garage under a massive skyscraper. Johnny hadn’t been lying when he said they live in one of the newer buildings. Johnny pulls in between two luxury cars and when you get out, you can’t help but admire the sleek red Lamborghini.

“Like her?” Haechan asks, coming to stand next to you.

“She’s beautiful,” you breathe, leaning in to his use of the feminine pronoun for the car.

Haechan reaches out and smooths a hand along the body of the car. “I loved the colour when I first bought her, but now I’m not so sure.” He pauses for a moment, considering. “Maybe yellow next time.”

“You’ve already had yellow,” comes Johnny’s voice as he joins you where you’re standing near the trunk of the luxury car.

The taller man’s hand finds the small of your back and you really enjoy the way he pulls you into his side, his large body dwarfing you as he also eyes the Lamborghini. You can’t believe how they talk about these cars, as if paint jobs are easy and getting a new luxury car is a decision that can be made on a whim.

“I had yellow with a black stripe,” Haechan corrects the man next to him, pulling his red lollipop out of his mouth to use it to point at the car, “this time it would be full yellow.”

“You’ll just end up changing your mind again,” Johnny chuckles, applying a bit of pressure onto your back to get you moving with him towards the elevators that will take you to their apartment.

“And then I’ll get a new car,” Haechan responds simply, shoving a hand into the pocket of his black dress pants before following you and Johnny.

Waiting for the elevator, sandwiched between the broad shoulders of two ceos, your heart is racing. Johnny’s hand is on your lower back still, and his fingers are gently stroking you, his eyes fixed ahead. Haechan isn’t touching you, he’s playing with the lollipop in his mouth, twirling the stick with long, pretty fingers.

The elevator arrives and you all step into it. Haechan turns to face you, leaning back against the mirrored walls. His eyes are on you now and your skin prickles at the attention. You unconsciously press closer to Johnny, who laughs.

He thinks it’s adorable that you’re reacting this way to Haechan, who has always been the more obvious of the two when it comes to his predatory behaviour.

Johnny is well past proficient when it comes to slipping on a mask and acting like a kind, warm, nice person, which, to be fair, he is. He hides the dark side of himself as much as he can, but Haechan doesn’t have as much of a handle on himself. Besides, Haechan can get away with aggressive behaviour because he has a different aesthetic from Johnny, leaning in more on the fact that he’s slightly younger, smaller, and less physically threatening at a glance.

Unconsciously cowering away from Haechan, who appears to be the darker of the two, you’re simply allowing yourself to get closer to the real dominant in the elevator: Johnny.

You’re not aware of it, but Haechan is behaving this way because Johnny allows it. He enjoys the way girls react to Haechan’s aggression, enjoys the voyeuristic act of watching. If Haechan’s behaviour is ever going to get in their way of getting to a target, Johnny will put his foot down and expect full compliance from Haechan… but until that day comes, Johnny will enjoy letting Haechan play with his food.

“So you two do this sort of thing often?” you ask to fill the quiet. “You two with one girl?”

Johnny exchanges a look with Haechan, who smirks around his lollipop. “Often enough,” the large man holding you responds.

“Are there any safe words I should know about?” Your voice is teasing, and the innocence in your smile makes Johnny want to simply throw you against the mirror and fuck you in the elevator- Haechan’s tried to do this sort of thing before - jumping the gun too quick in the elevator - and it had ended with a poor lady from the floor below their own getting a better view of Haechan than she’d probably ever wanted.

Johnny’s grip tightens on you and Haechan stays pressed to the other side of the small enclosed space. “Do you want us to put you in the kind of position that requires a safe word, gorgeous?” Johnny grins down at you.

You turn to fully face him, enjoying the way his hands both find your waist. “I'm not as innocent as I look.”

Behind you, Haechan audibly pulls his lollipop from his mouth, holding it deftly in between two fingers while he closes the distance between his body and your back so he can cage you in against Johnny.

“You’re pretty confident you can take both of us, aren’t you, pretty girl?” His breath fans over your neck as he teases the skin there, tongue caressing your ear lobe just long enough to give you goosebumps and make your panties unbearably wt, but not long enough to actually give you satisfaction.

You hum in response, pressing your ass back against Haechan, which earns you a deep groan that also goes straight to your core.

“Are you going to let us break you, gorgeous?” Johnny’s hand cups your face, his thumb trailing along your bottom lip.

You suck his digit into your mouth, twirling your tongue around it as you nod, looking up at Johnny with big, bedroom eyes.

“Then I guess your safe word can be red,” Johnny tells you, removing his thumb from your mouth so he can grasp your throat instead. Your breath catches and you stay completely still, something that Johnny absolutely adores. “But if you’re uncomfortable, you can say yellow.”

You like the way he explains this, you think to yourself as Haechan spins you around and claims your lips with his own, pressing his body flush against yours.

You’ve had your share of interactions with BDSM and guys like Johnny, or should you say doms like Johnny. Having one safe word is pretty entry level, but the guys who hit you with two safe words that vary on level of discomfort? They’re the seasoned dominants that you thrive on… and unbeknownst to you, they know it.

You may have caught Haechan’s eye on the street that first day, but neither of these men are as careless with women as they are with cars. Haechan had done the research, and this interaction is only taking place due to months of planning. They know everything about you now, and it hadn’t taken long for a paid hacker to get them access to your search histories. Haechan has spent many hours watching your screens, and they both know through your porn searches that you have an interest in the harder things in BDSM.

Johnny had warned Haechan that unlike their last sub, who had entered into things with not much prior history in BDSM, you would be different. You’d be expecting protocol, such as safe words, and Johnny is actually very pleased you’re asking this before even arriving at their apartment.

He knows you have a decent head on your shoulders, but your head also has eyes, which are not impervious to their looks, nor are your ears to their sweet, charming voices. But you’d still agreed to go home with them quicker than he’d expected, which had made him wonder about your street smarts if nothing else. Bringing up safe words in this setting solidifies Johnny’s confidence in you, and the way you’re behaving with them shows that you’re interested, but you’re still a little apprehensive.

The fact that you’re being cautious, to an extent, pleases Johnny. Most girls take in the two big ceo’s and immediately think that they’ll be taken care of, that all their needs will be met and they’ll be rolling around in money and men the moment they get back to the apartment, as if Johnny and Haechan’s attentions and affections are a given, which they are not.

No, Johnny is more of a one time fling kind of guy. Act the prince for a night but always be sure to leave for ‘work’ the next morning with a sweet note of explanation left on his pillow and money for uber.

When it comes to long term girls, well, he’s extremely picky. After their last sub, who had been the perfect image of innocence, had ended… badly, to say the least, Johnny had decided not to pick up a new doll for a while. So when Haechan had found you, he’d thought long and hard about his deal breakers, the things he simply would not be happy with in a female companion.

It was in this that he and Haechan had discussed their mutual attraction to girls with a bit of strength and bite. Johnny had always found his romps with switches - who always attempted to fight him for dominance - to be nearly the most rewarding. Although he’s not interested in a switch (simply because they would never ever be allowed to dom him), a bratty sub, or at least a seasoned one, has been tantalizing for a while.

Everything in your behaviour is telling Johnny that he and Haechan have found the right girl. That their research hasn’t been in vain. You’re proving to be just as teasingly bratty as he’d thought you would be from glimpses of you on your social media, but you’re still being submissive, pressed to his chest and wallowing in the attention.

You’re seasoned enough to be weary, and your trust will have to be earned, which Johnny honestly prefers to the faith blindly given to him by cute pillow princesses who only want the taste of excessive luxury that he can provide.

When the elevator reaches their penthouse, Johnny steps from the lift, prompting you to pull away from Haechan to follow- but the man has you ensnared in his embrace. He allows you to exit the elevator, but he keeps a firm grip on you, wrapping his arms around your body as he molds himself to your back, a feeling you’re becoming used to.

You look around their home while Johnny heads into the kitchen, discarding his jacket on a chair before retrieving a cup from the kitchen.

“What do you think, princess?” Haechan’s voice is low and gravely in your ear, drawing your attention from his tall friend, “should the tour start or end in the bedroom?”

“Tour later,” Johnny answers, approaching you both and plucking the lollipop from Haehcan, which he places in the cup he’s brought. Johnny leaves the cup on the kitchen counter then heads off down the hallway, not bothering to look back at you or Haechan for further discussion.

You don’t mind that he’d made the choice, in fact, it feels kind of fitting in some odd way that Johnny’s the one calling the shots… and you also enjoy the way he deals with the man behind you, thinking two steps ahead and getting rid of the lollipop that would otherwise had to have been constantly passed between mouths or possibly even placed on a direct surface.

The man pressed against your back pushes you forward with his body, prompting you to head off in Johnny’s footsteps, and you think maybe Haechan’s more of an enforcer dom than the type that makes decisions.

Your mouth is nearly watering at the idea of what they’re going to do to you. You wonder if they have a game plan, or maybe if they’ll riff off each other and let things go a more organic route.

When you arrive at your destination, the master bedroom, you take in the space. It’s furnished in a minimalistic way that you find very pleasing, with a large bed and windows that overlook the city of dazzling lights.

There’s a nice table by the window, and on it are a laptop and a few books, as well as a notable crystal decanter full of an amber liquid- whiskey you think, and you think you see some small wood like chips in the bottom, suggesting it’s been aged.

You’re too far away to see titles of the books, which catch your eye next. You wonder what these men could be reading- however, the fact that it’s only one chair at the table makes you think perhaps only one of them is a fan of what now looks to be maybe classic literature, Shakespeare?

Johnny walks over to the table and pours himself a drink, keeping his body slightly turned so you have a view of him. He has such an amazing side profile, and you step forward- only to be lurched back by Haechan’s embrace.

The tall man smirks by the window at the altercation, but doesn't give you his attention. Instead he sidesteps to fully face the city, while Haechan’s teeth graze your ear and a growl of annoyance grumbles through his chest.

“You like him more, huh?” the man behind you seethes, his hands moving from your hips down your legs. You’re in a clubbing dress tonight, your friends had insisted on it, and it’s giving Haechan way too easy access to you.

You respond by pushing back against him, turning so your lips can brush Haechan’s while you grab the back of his head, tangling your fingers through his hair. “You’re the one holding me right now.”

The next word that comes from your mouth gets shocked reactions from everyone, but it feels right. Between Johnny and Haechan, the taller of the two is obviously the daddy, and the man grinding behind you like a jealous frat boy feels a little young to be a sir. So when you call him “master,” things feel right.

You have no idea that you’ve just solidified everything in Haechan’s god complex affected mind that you’re his now.

You put one of your hands over each of his, bringing them both up. This causes his large fingers to slowly drag your dress to expose more and more skin until he can access your panties. At the same time, his other palm comes to massage your breast.

In front of you, Johnny moves the chair to face the spectacle Haechan is all but puppet mastering from his position behind you.

Your master pushes you forward.

Johnny sits down in the chair, raising his glass to his lips. His eyes follow your every movement as Haechan brings you closer and closer until you’re just between Johnny’s confidently spread legs.

Haechan’s hand has slipped fully into your underwear, and his long fingers are teasing you. “So wet,” he groans, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your neck, “who made you this wet gorgeous?”

You moan when his index finger gently brushes over your clit, pushing your ass back against Haechan. “You did, master.”

You enjoy the way the man behind you reacts every time you call him ‘master’. This time, he squeezes your breast roughly, and finally slips two fingers into your core. He’s figured out that you have a sensitive neck, and has already found your sweet spot, which you’re pretty sure he’s marked based on how often he keeps coming back to it. He also drags your strapless dress down enough to get full access to your chest, and you can’t help the whimpery sigh that leaves your lips at the coolness of the room on your newly exposed skin.

Between his mouth on your neck, his digits buried in your pussy, and his fingers - which are now teasing and pinching at your nipple- you can feel your orgasm rising already.

In front of you, Johnny sets his drink down. He’s at the perfect height while sitting, and he’s able to simply lean in and latch his lips to the nipple that Haechan’s been neglecting.

With one hand, you grab at the back of Johnny’s head to keep him at your chest while your other hand tugs more at Haechan’s hair. “Please let me cum?”

Haechan chuckles behind you. “Aw, is our little pet that sensitive?” he coos, “going to cum and we’ve only just started.”

Teeth graze your nipple and you gasp, looking down at Johnny, who pulls away from you only to hook his fingers in your panties and drag them down. Haechan hadn’t bothered to get rid of your underwear, but now that you’re close to cumming, you’re thankful one of them has dealt with the annoyingly confining fabric.

Suddenly Johnny is offering you two fingers to suck on, and you do so diligently, only to have them removed a moment later. You have no idea what Johnny is about to do to you- and then his hand is joining Haechan’s at your entrance.

Johnny’s digits slide into you under Haechan’s, and you whimper at the new feeling and the stretch it provides. Your eyes close and you focus on the pleasure that they’re giving you, but as you’re about to fall over the edge you realize they haven’t given you permission yet.

“Can I cum?” you whimper again, earning a chuckle from the man behind you. “Please?”

“Only because you asked so nicely.” It’s Johnny who gives you the go ahead to orgasm, and a moment later your body is quivering as waves of pleasure slam into you.

Haechan keeps you up, his strong form holding you as his fingers continue to slide in and out of your core, aided by Johnny’s, which reach just a bit longer and curl up past Haechan’s into a spot that’s making you see stars.

You’re not sure how long you cum for, only that when you’re done, you’re a shivering mess. You watch Johnny remove his fingers from your core and lick them clean. Then he reaches for his drink, leaning back in his chair and letting out a sigh. He’s so incredibly sexy and confident in his movements, and the sheer amount of space he takes up with his large form-

Behind you, Haechan is unzipping your dress. His hot breath fans across the expanse of your bare back and you like the way he roughly grabs at the fabric that’s bunched around your waist and pulls it up, all but tearing it off of your body.

Haechan pushes you forward, manhandling you into a position that’s kind of new to you and utilizes Johnny’s sitting form.

Haechan lifts one of your legs, and you find yourself forced to use Johnny’s thigh to half kneel on. Haechan then applies pressure to your back and in this way, you’re in a half standing doggy, with one knee and your hands cushioned on Johnny’s strong body still seated in his chair. You worry for a moment about Johnny and if this is uncomfortable for him, but when he helps adjust your leg slightly forward, it stretches you out more for Haechan and tucks your knee near Johnny’s hip, resting much of your shin on his sturdy thigh.

Haechan’s hands find your waist and a moment later the head of his cock is rubbing against your entrance. He coats himself in your slick, and then begins to push in, causing you to both let out groans of pleasure.

Johnny’s lips find your nipple again, the position giving him perfect access to your chest, and he massages your neglected breast with his free hand. The stimulation makes your pussy flutter around Haechan as he fully sheathes himself, inch by inch, until you can feel him practically everywhere.

The man behind you lets out an animalistic growl, then he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and forcing you to arch your spine.

It hurts to have him grabbing you by your hair, but it’s wonderful too. Electric pricks of pain delighting your whole body as Haechan begins to fuck up into you with a cock that’s threatening to split you in half.

You can hear the moans spilling past your lips, but you can’t control them. The sound of Haechan’s skin smacking against yours with each harsh snap of his hips nearly drowns out his groans of pleasure, and Johnny is quiet as he sucks on your nipple. His free hand moves between your legs, finding your clit even as Haechan roughly fucks you, and this stimulation is almost too much with everything else going on.

You let out a strangled gasp, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to stop any further whimpers from being freed. You can’t believe how easily these two can bring you to the edge. They work in perfect unison, both of them dealing with separate pleasure spots on your body and abusing them until you’re nearly screaming.

“Gonna cum for us again kitten?” Haechan’s cocky voice interupts your thoughts, his teeth grazing by your ear.

“Please-” it’s the only word that can come to your mind.

“Do you deserve it?”

“Please!” you whimper, muscles tightening painfully as you try to hold back your orgasm until you have permission.

“Cum for us,” Haechan commands as Johnny’s teeth graze your nipple and his fingers rub your clit harder, triggering your orgasm to slam into you.

Haechan lets go of your hair when you cum, allowing you to slump forward, cradling Johnny’s head as he sucks and licks at your nipples while your body shakes with stimulation.

Haechan uses his newly freed hand to grab at your ass, kneading the flesh and adjusting your hips just so- his cock slams into your gspot and you let out a strangled sound that prompts Johnny to wrap a hand around your throat, muffling your noises and gasps.

You’re pretty sure Haechan cums from the way his hips piston into you.

If Johnny wasn’t holding you, you’re sure the power behind Haechan’s thrusts would have knocked the both of you onto the floor. As it is, his strength has you nearly at your breaking point, his fingers digging into your waist painfully, but you can’t bring yourself to care. It feels wonderful to be used this way, and sandwiched between two massive men no less.

When Haechan stills, his hands let go of your waist in favour of your hair again, and he pulls you away from Johnny so you’re standing with your back pressed to his chest. “What do we say when someone is nice to us, hmm?”

“Thank you, master,” you answer quickly, voice a little hoarse from moaning. You’re trying to catch your breath, but when you open your eyes, you’re met with Johnny, who’s looking at you with hunger.

“Going to be a good girl for Johnny now, right?” Haechan’s tongue darts out to leave a stripe of wetness up your neck to your ear, where he gently tugs at your lobe with his teeth.

You nod, swallowing thickly as you try to pull yourself together.

Johnny stands up, and you’re forced to tilt your head up to meet his eyes now that he’s no longer below you. You lick your lips, practically drooling at his height.

He’s still fully clothed, and you watch him begin to unbutton his shirt. He moves slowly, but you don’t mind, eyes fixed on his long fingers and the pretty skin he’s revealing more and more of.

Behind you, Haechan lets out a sigh. He pulls his cock out of you and roughly pushes you onto the bed, a motion you were not expecting. You land with a scream of shock, blinking at the two men standing over you.

Haechan tucks himself back into his pants before going to take Johnny’s seat, while the taller of the two comes to stand at the foot of the bed near you. He’s finally pushing his shirt off of his shoulders, and you mewl at the way muscle moves under his beautiful skin.

“Careful baby,” Johnny says when he begins to undo his belt, his eyes scanning your open legs before going up to your face, he winks at you, “or you’ll make a mess before I’ve even started.”

Hot embarrassment floods your body as you feel Haechan’s cum beginning to drip out of your needy core. You bring you hand down to your entrance, collecting what you can before stuffing yourself with digits that don’t even compare to Haechan or Johnny’s. Your legs close around your hand and you let out a soft whimpering sound, the coolness of the room getting to you now that you’re not sandwiched between two large, warm bodies.

“Aw, is our little doll getting shy?” Johnny’s tone is playful, and the sound of something hard and metallic draws your attention back to him. He’s naked now, pants discarded, and he gets onto the bed, hands grabbing your legs and forcing them open easily.

He looks down at where you have two digits buried inside of yourself, and you watch him wrap his index finger and thumb around your wrist. He moves himself up the bed so when he removes your hand from your core, his cock can take its place. There’s a rush of wetness at your entrance and you feel Johnny rut himself against you, coating his shaft in it, but you’re too busy paying attention to your own fingers, which he’s shoved into your mouth.

You can taste yourself and Haechan, and you’re eager to clean your digits completely, Johnny’s warm brown eyes fixed on you and your task. You pull your fingers from your mouth with a pop, wrapping your arms around the back of Johnny’s shoulders to pull him closer, smashing your lips to his while your legs also increase the pressure of Johnny on your core.

Johnny stops kissing you, a hand wrapping around your throat to hold you against the pillows as he asks, “Ready, baby?”

“Yes, daddy.”

You’re confident that you’ve given Johnny the right title because he rewards you immediately, reaching between your bodies to adjust his cock only to slam it into you. Haechan had taken his time inch by inch, but Johnny doesn’t. You’re already prepared from two orgasms, but Johnny’s massive cock still feels like an intrusion as your warm walls struggle to accommodate his sheer size.

You moan against Johnny’s lips, tangling your fingers in his soft hair as his hips find a strong, steady rhythm. Johnny’s large body presses you down against the mattress, and you know there’s no way you’re going to last long like this, your size kink alone dragging you towards the edge for the third time tonight.

Johnny must be able to feel your pussy tightening around him because he applies more pressure to your neck, causing your moans to rise into squeaky sounds that have him chuckling down at you while he straightens slightly.

He’s half kneeling now, grabbing the headboard to stay up while he lifts your hips with one hand so he can fuck you deeper. Johnny’s arm is extended, holding you down against the pillows by your throat, pinning you, and you’re prompted to grab at his strong forearm.

Muscles flutter under your grasp, and despite the pleasure coursing through you and telling you to close your eyes, you can’t help but force yourself to blink up at Johnny and appreciate his beauty.

Haechan had fucked you from behind, and you’ll be damned if you miss out on seeing Johnny’s face too.

You can’t speak, but you find nonverbal ways of communicating with the man who’s using you like his own personal sex toy. When you pout out your bottom lip, you see Johnny’s expression soften slightly. His hips continue their rhythm but he lets go of your neck in favour of returning to a missionary position, his mouth returning to yours.

Without the pressure on your throat, your moans are free to fill the room again, and soon they’re joined by someone else’s sounds of pleasure. Johnny’s lips move to your neck and this gives you time to turn your head and look at Haechan, who has his cock out again and is pumping it roughly while he watches you and Johnny on the bed.

You can’t help the way one of your hands reaches for Haechan while the other pulls harder at Johnny’s hair, and it’s more than enough of an invitation to have Haechan standing to come join you.

Johnny laughs when he sees the turn of events, and he’s quick to pull out of you. “Our little doll wants both of us, huh?” he says as he flips you onto your tummy then grabs your waist, lifting you into doggy and sliding back into your wet core while Haechan gets comfy kneeling in front of you.

“She’s greedy,” Haechan responds, looking down at you with a fond smile as he pets your hair, sliding his cock into your awaiting mouth.

“And so tight.” Johnny lands an unexpected smack to your ass, causing you to jolt forward and farther onto Haechan, your throat constricting around Haechan’s cock before you steady yourself again.

“Fuck,” Haechan groans, tightening his grip on your hair. “She’s our perfect little toy.”

“And she’s not going to cum until we both do,” Johnny says. “Isn’t that right?” Another smack, this time harder, has you sputtering out sound of affirmation while Haechan continues to fuck your face. “I want to hear her say it.”

Haechan pulls you off his cock and your lungs greedily gasp at air, you can feel saliva running down your lips but you say as clearly as you can “I’m not going to cum until Master and Daddy cum first.”

“Good girl,” comes Johnny’s response, and then Haechan is claiming your mouth again as the man behind you finds a brutal pace. Johnny’s fingers dig into your hips and each thrust has him all but breaking you with how insane his cock feels.

You get a good grip on the sheets below you and you focus on breathing through your nose even as you’re used on both sides by men who seem to be intent on making this the most memorable night of your life.

Haechan’s cock slips deep into your throat and makes you gag again, one of your hands instinctively coming up to grab at his thigh. A moment later, he’s removed from your mouth completely and Johnny hauls you up against his chest, strong arms keeping you up as his lips find your shoulder and his fingers find your clit.

Haechan is still in front of you, and he looks a little upset, his eyes narrowed in on the man behind you.

You think your choking must have prompted Johnny to pull you away, so you make it up to Haechan by grabbing his cock with your free hand, picking up where you’d left off with your mouth. This draws his attention, and he gives in to you, coming closer so he can press his lips to your own.

You’ve yet to really focus on kissing Haechan, and you can still taste the hint of cherry left over from his lollipop. He cups your face with both hands, dominating your mouth with his red tinted tongue.

Johnny works your clit harder with his fingers, your entrance so wet that it makes his strokes incredibly smooth as he continues to thrust into you at a crazy pace.

“Please cum!” you whine against Haechan’s lips, remembering Johnny’s instructions even as your orgasm builds. You work your hand faster on his length and Haechan groans into your mouth, hips rutting into the stimulation. “I’m so close-” you’re all but crying now, your body overcome by the pleasure that’s just out of reach-

“Cum for us princess,” Johnny says in your ear before he latches his mouth to your neck. You can feel him cumming and you allow your own orgasm to hit you, your movements on Haechan faltering just slightly- but it’s enough to have him wrapping his hand around yours, forcing you to stroke him to a climax, which comes out in sticky spurts all over your abdomen and chest.

The room is full of gasps and groans, as the three of you clutch at each other, working yourselves through intense orgasms that have you all nearly shuddering in ecstasy.

The three of you all try to catch your breaths as your orgasms die down and so do your motions. Haechan releases his grip on your hand, which is still wrapped around his cock, and takes a deep breath before collapsing onto the bed.

Behind you, Johnny strokes your arms up and down, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. You can feel his heart racing still, but his words are calm, “We should get you cleaned up.”

He’s right. Haechan had left a mess all over your front, and you’re sure that as soon as Johnny slips out of your core, you’ll have just as much of a problem between your legs as you do on your chest.

Soon, you’re in the shower with Johnny, cradled in his arms.

He holds you close, enjoying the way you’re too tired to even speak. You need your rest, there’s time for talking tomorrow. And the next day… and the day after that.

You’re theirs now, and although you might not have a concept of what that means, Johnny does. And part of his ownership of you comes with responsibilities, like aftercare. You’re his little doll now, and it’s important you’re clean and safe and well groomed.

He already has a list of things he wants to do with you; take you shopping, go get your nails and hair done-

You shift in Johnny’s arms and all his plans dissipate, his focus shifting to the moment and what he needs to do to make you comfortable.

“I’m tired,” you tell him.

“Then let’s sleep,” he says smoothly, reaching past you to turn off the shower. He helps you out and hands you a towel, then he finds you a shirt you can wear to sleep in, although he’d really rather you simply just be naked. Come morning, Haechan will be tearing the shirt off of you anyways, so Johnny doesn’t bother trying to convince you to ditch it now.

You’ll learn soon enough, and Johnny doesn’t mind waiting until you do. He’s a patient man, and when it comes to you? He has all the time in the world.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I missed this fic, thought it deserved more of an ending, so here's a bonus below :)

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🔮 preview. “So the puppet wants to become a puppet master today, is that it? You want to pull at Johnny’s strings?” “No, I-” “Don’t deny it, princess,” Haechan grabs your chin roughly. “I think it’s kind of hot- and I’ll play along with you… just this once. As long as we’re still clear on who’s running this show.”

cw/ tw. yandere warning, unprotected sex, blow job while gaming, praise, degradation, dirty talk, deep throating, exhibitionist themes, nsfw photos, dumbification, cum play, etc... I petnames. (hers) good/pretty girl, pet, cock whore, princess, etc. (Hyuck's) master.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3k I teaser wc. 350

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!Reader I ft. Johnny

bonus

In the few months you’ve been ‘dating’ Haechan and Johnny, you’ve had to adjust to a lot. You’d had no idea when you left the bar with the two ceo’s that they’d latch onto you and refuse to let go- so to be suddenly thrown into a sugar daddy/baby type relationship- well, it had been unexpected, to say the least.

You’ve never known a love like the one you experience with both men- it’s hot, all consuming, and obsessive- but there are soft moments that you share with them, moments that elude to earlier life traumas that have made your lovers the way they are.

Haechan is especially obsessive, and while Johnny’s temperament is more relaxed, there’s always a glint of something behind his brown eyes; he supports Haechan with all sorts of ideas that others might find crazy.

Like when Haechan insisted you quit your job and live with them full time, Johnny had nodded in agreement, offering up a monthly allowance to you as an incentive. Or then there was the morning Haechan had woken up and decided he wanted to take you on a week long tropical vacation, Johnny had simply stated that he’d make sure their assistant rearranged his schedule to make it happen.

The American also has his quirks, and just as he concedes to Haechan’s proclivities, you’ve found yourself giving in to Johnny without a question asked. He has an eye for fashion, and it’s been weeks since you even dressed yourself, instead, you wake up to a chosen outfit in your walk in closet every morning, and a note of intention from the man who always wants you looking your best.

Sure, sometimes when you think about the long term goal, you fear what could happen if one day they just dropped you, but the way both men greedily enjoy your time - the way they fuck you absolutely stupid - it makes you want to just revel in the moment, despite the unconventional things about your relationship.

As time goes on, you’ve learned to love being their cock drunk little whore. You’ve learned how rewarding it can be.

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