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#but as you can imagine with fics written in a single day it could use some editing
chthonic-kelpie · 2 years
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Rating: G
Wordcount: 8,020
Chapters: 3/3
Summary:
“Ah. The River of Forgetfulness, was it?” Zagreus twisted to look at the foaming waters flowing past behind him. “It certainly lives up to its name. What was I doing in Elysium, anyhow? This is a long way from the House…How did I get here?”
He doesn’t remember.
As far as Zagreus was concerned, everything was as it used to be. No long-lost mother on the surface. No attempts to escape the underworld. Zagreus had once said that home would never be the same for him, but now that he’d forgotten the discovery that changed everything, maybe…maybe he could be happy here. Maybe Thanatos wouldn't have to worry about him anymore.
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I might have written a 7.5K amnesia fic in one day. Amnesia fics are just like that sometimes.
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simpjaes · 4 months
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PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM (l.hs)
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You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off. 
៸៸៸ minors do not interact!
៸៸៸ simp gamer ! lee heeseung x afab reader 
 ៸៸៸ wc: 30k
 ៸៸៸ tags: smut, sister’s boyfriend trope, exhibitionism and voyeurism, dom heeseung, he is also unemployed lol, gaming antics, discord streaming, sexting, sex bets, shameless behavior, food mentions, alcohol use, implied sickness due to said alcohol, jake, sunghoon, and jay as the gamer friends who have a bet going. also the guys who get to watch….kind of. 
 ៸៸៸ !WARNINGS!: cheating/infidelity, dubcon-ish at one instance, heeseung is mean and manipulative. instances where jake, jay, and sunghoon take advantage of a situation where reader is drunk (conversation based), the reader can be lifted, visibly marked, has hair that can have fingers ran through it, and blushes visibly.
 ៸៸៸ a/n: this fic was written for heeseung's gf @drunkhazed! i really loved the idea, as you can see, i kind of went crazy with it. i hope it lives up to your imagination but maybe not idk. you better love it anyway oomfie, bc i loved writing it for u. this fic was briefly edited but likely still has a million typos and grammar errors.
៸៸៸ nsfw tags below
៸៸៸ nsfw tags: 10” heeseung, dubcon-ish at one instance,  masturbation, pillow humping, cum eating, degradation, hentai watching, sexting, sex on camera, blow job, voyeurism, exhibitionism, deep penetration, cream pie, breeding, blood and spit, one mention of piss but no actual piss (form of degradation), fingers down your throat.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Walking into an empty room has never felt so freeing, especially in knowing this is your space. Safe from your parents, bare and ready to be adorned with all of the things you hold dear to you. What’s even better? It’s bigger than your room back home, and you even have a little attached bathroom of your own. 
Life is great. You think studying here will ease your mind and allow you to graduate top of your class by the time it’s all over and done with. If you could kiss your sister, you would, really. 
You remember being kids and the two of you promising that when you grow up, you’d live together and never grow apart. After actually growing up though, she finished her degree and went off on her own, leaving you by yourself with no one to get you through the hardships of becoming a college student yourself.
With her working full time for several years and you struggling your own way to the top, she really did follow through with that young childhood promise. 
“Why don’t you come live with me through college? I’m sure it would be easier than living with all those rules.” 
You didn’t even think twice and had your bags packed a single day after the invitation. You stayed up all night getting it done, emptying your childhood room filled with both good and bad memories. Alas, you did have to wait until the spring semester was over though. Thankfully, you were only sleeping in a packed up room for about a week.
You find yourself here now, with your sister lovingly making lunch in the kitchen while her boyfriend, who you have only met briefly at holiday gatherings, stays in the office-turned-gaming room hooting and howling over some game he’s playing.
“Don’t mind him.” She half-smiles when he doesn’t immediately head for the kitchen, making her own plate and moving to the table with a sense of annoyance. “He’ll be out in a bit, it’s a pretty normal occurrence.” 
“You don’t think it’s rude?” You furrow your brows now, automatically assuming that your sister deserves a man willing to work just as much as she does. Still, you don’t entirely mind that you weren’t forced into an official meeting of the man of the house first thing when you walked in.
“Nah, not really. Been dating him for years, I knew what I signed up for when I moved him in.” She smiles while shaking her head, seemingly accepting all of his positives and negatives.
“Does he not have a job?” You pry, picking at your plate and trying to memorize his actual name because for a little while, you really started to wonder if his name was just a variation of “honey” and “babe”. Thankfully not. 
“He’s looking for one.” She says, looking at you and trying to read your judgment. “Before you say anything, he has money. Or–well, his parent’s have money. They pay his half of the rent right now.”
You shrug, noting that she really does seem happy and you’d be the best person to judge her level of fulfillment outside of herself anyway. You trust that she picked the right man, even if he’s still screaming in the other room with an empty stomach. 
“By the way…” She says with a wicked smile, one that you remember growing up with. The other end of that smile always ends with some sort of…antic. “We’re throwing you a welcome party this weekend. Inviting all of our friends too, so it’s easier for you to start being social on this side of town.”
You would groan, but growing up in your childhood home with your parents never came with parties. No birthdays at home, no sleepovers, nothing. Hell, they wouldn’t even allow you to attend other parties as a child, and going to college parties was out of the question.
The only party you ever attended was during the time you snuck out. They made damn sure you never snuck out again after that mishap as well. 
“Oh, really?” You chew and speak at the same time, not minding your manners at all considering you can get away with it now. “Is there gonna be alcohol?” 
“Oh, yes, yes.” She smiles again. “Gonna give you a proper party since, you know.”
You nod to her and you both laugh together at the found freedom you share, and then, well, the king of screaming like a toddler walks in. His hair looks like shit, an indent at the top of the messy locks indicating that he must have had his headset on for a long fucking time. Loose shirt with the sleeves pushed up, eyes sleepy and red, probably burning from the sunlight coming through the windows, and some sort of smile on his face. He looks at his girlfriend with that tired smile, about to thank her for the meal, then his eyes trail to you.
“Oh fuck–” His hands raise to run his fingers through his hair, then both rest on the back of his neck as he lets out a big sigh. “Was that today?” 
You give him the side eye of all side eyes at this moment. Reminding yourself how you and your sister spent all morning hauling your stuff in without his help. She also did say he would have put together your desk, dresser, shelf, and bed frame by the time you got here. Well, he didn’t.
“Yep.” She pops the p on the end of her word indicating passive aggressive annoyance. 
“Shit.” He mumbles under his breath, placing his empty plate right back into the cupboard and making his way to your room. “I’ll do it now. I’m sorry babe.” 
Your sister nods triumphantly, watching your look of surprise in reaction to the way he instantly appears to fix his mistake without more than a single word from her. 
“He knows when he fucks up. He was supposed to do it yesterday but as you can see, he hasn’t left his PC since like, nine o’ clock last night.” She shrugs.
You laugh, furrowing your brow at her. 
“I really didn’t expect him to be so lazy, sis, I always figured you’d be dating a doctor or something.” 
She brushes off her shoulders with a proud look, leaning towards you with a smile. 
“He was working a really good job but I could see how unhappy he was. I’m giving him a year or two to figure himself out. He’s been back and forth trying new things, hasn’t quite landed on anything he likes yet though.” 
She is a fucking saint. Honestly, Heeseung might be the luckiest man in the world to have a woman willing to do such a thing for him. 
“Woah,” You start, taking a sip of your water. “He’s trying to make it as a streamer right now, I take it?”
She shakes her head with an eye roll.
“Not really, he’s just always spent as much free time as possible playing but, I trust that he’ll figure something out sooner rather than later.” 
And you pry for a while longer. Learning about all of the things your sister and Heeseung do together, learning about her friends and his friends, the rules of the house, and the not-rules of the house. For instance, you’re allowed to bring home hook-ups or dates if you give a fair warning so she doesn’t have to hear it. However, the food in the fridge is for the house occupants only, and people need to ask before opening the cupboards and filling their plates. Of course, unless there is a party. 
Another rule, which was a bit too much information but you figure it’s fair since everyone here is an adult. She and Heeseung apparently have a pretty active sex life and apologized in advance for some of the things you may end up hearing. She also noted that there will be ear plugs if you need them, but that she suggests throwing on some headphones and ignoring it. Fair enough, it’s her house anyway. 
And after a few hours pass, Heeseung makes his way out of your room with a smile on his face. You remember seeing him maybe two or three times during the holidays but he never mingled with you. He never mingled with anyone, actually. He tended to keep to himself, with his loose fitting outfits always sticking out in the awkward family photos that your sister would sneak him into. That’s all you can really recall about him. 
It is kind of strange seeing him in his natural habitat of your sister’s house. Already, you’ve seen more personality in him than you ever did during the brief meetings. It’s kind of nice to see him proudly nodding his head to your bedroom as if to invite you in properly like he should have done hours ago when you arrived. He took it upon himself to rearrange the room for maximum space. Arguably, you’re impressed. 
“I unpacked some of your things too.” He comments as he hugs your sister from behind in the doorway. “Needed to make sure the dresser drawers wouldn’t cave in.” 
Your eyes trail to the pretty dresser, painted white with even prettier trim on it. It’s the first time you’ve ever had a matching bedroom set. You head over and take a peek in the drawers, noting that he didn’t just haphazardly throw your clothes in there. 
Top drawer, all of your undergarments are fucking folded. Second drawer, socks, tights, and leggings, third drawer, soft pajama sets also folded. And the fourth drawer remains empty.
You turn to look at him, embarrassed by the fact that he took it upon himself to do that. You can’t see a single shred of embarrassment in his own face though, and it appears he really was just being nice. 
“Don’t be embarrassed. I do the laundry here so I’ll be folding those more often than you’d think.” He smiles, and your sister lends a chuckle. 
“He’s gotta do something while I’m making most of the money.” She shrugs, totally fine with the fact that her boyfriend just handled every piece of underwear you own save for the ones you’re wearing. 
“Closet too, hung up what I could but I’m like, really hungry so I figured I could leave the rest to you.” 
You nod in appreciation, in awe of your new room and the soft, plush carpet on your floor. Your old room was hard wood with dust filled corners, it felt cold. Here though? You feel welcomed, warm, and cozy. 
Hundreds of ideas flood your mind about how you want to decorate the room and as you go to start unpacking your miscellaneous items, your sister nods and backs out of the room with her boyfriend still hugging her from behind. 
There, you’re left to your own devices. 
Another thought crosses your mind when you hear the door close as well. The fact that you haven’t had a door to close for your bedroom since you snuck out all those years ago. The sound felt like music to your ears as you found yourself falling back on the bare mattress with a deep and relieved sigh. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
With all of the unpacking, wall art compositions, and napping in between, the week flew by quicker than you anticipated.
Waking up today, at half past two in the afternoon felt so good. Your duvet felt crispy, your room was completed and finally your own, and it felt safe. You could smell the breakfast cooking in the kitchen, and your sister’s voice paired with Heeseung ringing fondly at each other. 
Little bit strange that you didn’t wake up to silence in the house, considering Heeseung is usually just now heading to sleep with that fucked up sleep schedule and your sister is normally lounging in the living room with a snack, iced coffee, and watching her favorite reality shows. Save for when she’s at work all day, of course.
Still, you slowly pull yourself out of bed feeling happy and refreshed, stepping into your attached bathroom to do your morning routine before exiting the room, and then heading into the kitchen with a small “good morning.”
“It’s nearly three in the afternoon.” Your sister smiles at you. “But good morning to you too sis.”
Heeseung, seemingly dressed for the day with a band tee and a beanie on, lends you a glance and a wave as he swings back and forth in the kitchen, mixing pancake batter in a bowl for your sister and unaware of the speckle of said batter stuck in a strand of his hair. 
You lean over your sister’s shoulder after waving back to him, noting how she’s making little bite-sized pieces of pancake. Ah, this is the life, really. 
“Well? Don’t just stand there? Pour some juice or something. We need a big meal before tonight.” Your sister laughs at your sleepy content hum from behind her, noting how you act much like she did when she first got out of the childhood home. 
You take a step back, eyeing the room, trying to put the puzzle pieces together as to why Heeseung is awake and dressed and why she’s making a big meal to begin with. Both your sister and Heeseung note the confusion on your face. 
“Ah, she forgot.” He rumbles with a smirk, not keeping his eyes on you for too long as his focus falls back to mixing. 
“Did you really forget?” Your sister rolls her eyes with a spatula in hand, turning to you and putting her other hand on her hip. “Everyone seems excited to meet you, they’ll probably start pouring in around six or seven tonight.”
“Oh, right! The party!” You exclaim, shocked that you really did forget about it. With your sister’s promise of alcohol, you assume that explains the large breakfast, and also probably why Heeseung doesn’t look like a total slob.
“Yeah, the party.” Heeseung snickers, his back turned away from you but overall acting as if you’ve already lived here for months. Throwing the same sarcasm at you that your sister does. 
“Now go pour some juice, we have to go to the store after this and pick out drinks.” Your sister finally says, turning back to flip the pancakes in the pan. “You have drank since I moved out, right? You never wanted to try anything with me back then.”
You reluctantly nod your head, and your sister gasps fondly.
“Someone got into the liquor cabinet?” 
You nod with a laugh, knowing that you learned how to do it from her despite always being too chicken as a teenager to do it with her. The curiosity of being drunk didn’t outweigh the fear of being caught at all for you, at the time anyway. 
“Sunghoon is usually the one babysitting us, so no need to worry about pacing yourself.”  Heeseung comments along with his sneaky side eye at you. 
You don’t notice him do it at all, and even if you did you’d just assume it’s a passing glance. After all, you did open the fridge a little too hard.
“Sunghoon?” You ask. 
“One of my friends,” He raises his hand to his hair to try and shake out the now, obvious, speckle of batter that’s starting to dry in the strands. “By the way, when you go to bed tonight– make sure you lock your door.” He continues, turning around now and leaning against the counter just to watch you lift on your toes for some of the cups in the cabinet. 
His eyes watch the way you lift, your calf muscles flexing, your back arching slightly as you try to reach…And, well, he’s acting much like any man would, if he’s being honest, but ultimately he keeps his eyes to himself when your sister is turned or looking at him. 
“Noted.” You nod without paying much attention, pouring the drinks and now moving the filled glasses to the table.
You make brief eye contact with him, noting how he’s already looking at you while your sister is simply listening, facing the other way and mostly just focused on not burning the pancakes.
“I’m serious. Lock your door.” He repeats, scanning your body and judging just how dangerous it is for you to be living here. 
Mostly because he’s always found you quite cute, and he’s very aware that his friends probably will too. Hell, he’s already crossed a line with you since day one of you living here, he’s shocked you haven’t yet picked up on it, and knows very well that his friends will make moves instantly if you give them a chance. And with all things considered, you seem a bit too unaware of how attractive you are. 
“Hm?” You raise a brow as you make your way back to the kitchen. “I was going to, but now you’re making it sound important.”
“Well,” Your sister chimes in, stepping back once and holding out her hand. Heeseung is quick adjust his eyes, handing the fresh bowl of batter to her with a kiss to her cheek as if he wasn’t just eye fucking you. “All of them are single, and you’re just about as good looking as I am.” She laughs half-heartedly. 
She’s not trying to have an ego, but it’s best to warn you now at least. It’s not that she thinks she’s hot or anything, but she knows they think she is. And if that’s the case, they’re gonna be drooling over the younger, more single, version of herself. 
Heeseung rolls his eyes now though, leaning back against the counter and scanning you again the second your sister has her back turned. This time more blatantly. Eyes landing on the curve of your hips to the length of your legs. 
“Yeah.” He says, sucking in a breath with a half lidded gaze, letting his eyes trail down. “I’ll try to keep them at bay, though.” 
For Heeseung, there is nothing wrong with looking. For you? You feel very seen by him and it’s kind of throwing you for a loop. Your appearance becomes the main point of conversation and it makes you want to kind of leave the kitchen. 
“I doubt that’ll be an issue.” You try to laugh it off. 
“No, seriously.” Your sister says, turning to look at you briefly to give you a serious expression. “Back when I first met Heeseung, all four of them were after me. I swear, they’re more than just competitive with their games.” 
“I always win though.” Heeseung nods triumphantly, now keeping his eyes to himself and focusing more on his girlfriend.
“That, you do.” She boasts for him, leaning back after moving the pancakes to a plate and landing a kiss on his lips. 
You study how they move together. So in sync, not stepping on each other’s toes, ultimately moving in harmony. Likes it natural to them. She really does look happy, and he just looks like a guy who doesn’t know where to land his gaze. 
A normal guy, you think, who was given the same freedom your sister gives to you. It really is just who she is to take care of people, and the harsh judgment you originally had about Heeseung kind of fades a little bit as you watch them. 
You try not to study him too much though because damn, your sister knows how to pick them in terms of like, scale of attractiveness. Heeseung is the type of guy the two of you would giggle over at the mall. The type you’d silently bicker over from behind a store rack of jackets, or perhaps even fantasize about during a long and boring tv show with your parents. 
It’s not strange to find him attractive, because, well, he is. But you know your place here, and you’ve grown up to the point to know that you can appreciate a person’s looks and not need anything from them at the end of the day. 
However, you kind of hope his friends are at the same level as him. For one, to avoid having a secret crush on Heeseung, because who wouldn’t? And secondly, they’re single, just like you. 
Apparently they’re also a threat to the “innocence” both your sister and Heeseung seem to want to protect within you. 
“I’ll lock my door.” You say finally, receiving a happy nod from both of them as they continue their cooking and you make your way to the table. 
And while you do plan to lock your door, you also plan to take your time in getting dressed for the party. You kind of do want to be pounced at, or at least, feel the freedom of knowing you can look however you want without your parents forcing you into the ugliest outfit known to man. You know how to dress yourself, you’ve just never quite been allowed to do it. All those sneaky clothes your sister bought for you can finally come in handy. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
When your sister mentioned throwing you a welcome party, you expected a gathering of friends standing around awkwardly sipping wine coolers. What you didn’t expect was for there to be mood lighting, music, an array of nicely dressed people, and a large gaming set up in the living room where the big screen television was muted and a maximum of eight at a time could go head to head on super smash bros. 
You found yourself enjoying it more and more as the night went on and you became more comfortable being greeted by strangers. Each drink you were handed mostly came from your sister, but by the time she stopped making her own drinks and began to drink whatever the hell-mix her friends were giving to her, Heeseung was the one handing you drinks. 
“Come here–” Heeseung says over the blaring music, still floored by how good you look now versus how good you looked this morning. To him, the drinks he’s having paired with you running around looking like this? It’s even more dangerous than he thought as he continuously finds himself staring, and finds you seemingly still unaware of it. 
 “I’ll show you how to mix this one.”
Your sister was off somewhere in the house with her group of pretty friends, and you’ve really only briefly met everyone as they walked in the door. The drinks in your system make you want to actually mingle though. Everyone else is mingling, everyone else looks comfortable and happy to enjoy the party. It drives you to feel the same.
You nod to Heeseung with warmth in your cheeks, noting that he looks about as tipsy as you do when he stumbles his way back into the brightly lit kitchen with you. Your eyes burn at the light, as do his, and he groans at it before opening the fridge and pulling out the cranberry juice. 
“Your sister said you’ve probably only chugged from a bottle, so I opted to give you the easiest drink to make.” He explains in a slight slur, setting the juice on the counter and ultimately knocking it with his elbow when he turns to grab the vodka bottle. “Cranberry juice and vodka.”
You feel endeared by his genuine smile and embarrassed laugh at the way he knocked over the juice, watching him in his own element and comfort zone. It makes you feel a little guilty that he’s been the one making your drinks, only because your sister must have asked him to by the time she got too drunk. 
Heeseung seems to do just about everything she asks of him, and while you’re thankful, you feel a little bad that he’d probably rather be in the other room with his friends rather than trapped in this empty and terribly lit kitchen teaching you how to make a fucking mixed drink. 
“I put about–” He starts, grabbing your cup and pouring it half full with vodka. “this much into yours.”
In your own state, it’s not like you’d know what’s too much or what’s too little to put into a drink, but so far everything he’s handed to you tasted good. So, you nod at him, attempting to focus in on the cup.
“And this much juice.” He continues, now pouring not enough juice into the vodka.
From this angle, watching him from behind, you pause for a moment in your tipsy brain. Distracted by the way his shoulders flex when he’s grabbing that big ass bottle of juice, but you’re quick to tear your eyes away. He’s just a nice looking guy, dressed up for the first time since you moved in, you can’t fucking help it. Surely your sister would understand if she ever caught you checking him out, right?
“Then just stir it.” He adds now, turning to face you and dipping two fingers deep into the liquid of your cup, swirling them, then handing you the drink. 
He sucks the remaining mixture off of his fingers in a blatant show of his interest that you’re still far too aloof to pick up, watching you pretend he didn’t catch you staring. And with his fingers still in his mouth, he smirks around them, giving you a pleased expression when you take a sip from the cup. 
You glance up just for a second when you taste the same exact drink he’s been making you for the past forty five minutes and nod, trying not to focus on the way his tongue darts between his fingers twice before he pulls them out of his mouth. 
“Good?” He asks for confirmation, and when you smile and nod again, his eyes stare harder. 
Surely it’s just because you’re drunk, but you swear he’s giving you bedroom eyes, and paired with what he just did with his tongue….well. He looks at you similar to how he did this morning. And when you moved in. And back during that one Holiday party he attended at your childhood home. 
Definitely the alcohol. Like, he’s dating your sister. She’s the prettier one, the more successful one, the one with more personality. You’re just you. No way in hell is he really looking at you the same way he looks at her. It’s just your boosted confidence of finally being able to wear such a skimpy outfit. It’s just the liquid courage, that’s all. 
“You know–” He starts this time, leaning against the counter like he did this morning while helping your sister cook, trying to appear casual, cool, and perhaps attractive in this stance. “When I was beating Jay’s ass on smash bros earlier, he mentioned you.” 
You continue to sip your drink, feeling a buzzing in your chest and ears as you listen to him. Far more able now to have any conversation he could throw at you compared to any other day. Even with the thought in your head that he might be checking you out.
“Oh? Which one is Jay again?” You ask, leaning slightly to peek around the wall at the crowd of bodies just a room over. Interest peaking solely because the majority of people in this house right now are like, next level attractive. Maybe this Jay guy can take your thoughts off of your sister’s fucking boyfriend. 
“The one with the sunglasses on his head, wearing all black.” He starts, leaning close next to you and pointing just in front of your line of sight. “He’s a fucking loser, though.” 
You look at the guy, trying to remember the short greeting he gave to you. A nod of his head when he pushed those same sunglasses up and into his hair. He threw a very quick glance at you, to your face, chest, legs, then back to your face where he nodded again before making his way into the kitchen to make himself a drink.  You think, maybe, that Jay guy judged you positively upon meeting you. 
“He didn’t even tell me his name, no wonder I didn’t know which one he was.” You lend a drunken laugh as you check him out, sipping your drink again while listening to Heeseung laugh next to you. 
His laugh sounds closer, which makes sense considering he’s now leaning his weight on you with his elbow on your shoulder, resting his head there. 
“I thought he was that one–” You say, now pointing your own finger to the other guy you met briefly, the one with the longer hair, dyed blonde with hella untouched roots.. 
He had a nice smile when he greeted you, leaning in for a warm hug with a small “great to finally meet you.” His clothes drastically differed from Jay’s though. Far more casual and normal, loose jeans and a large hoodie just like what Heeseung seems to wear so often, except the colors were a bit brighter.
“Nah, that’s Jake.” Heeseung snorts, breathing in your scent as he leans into you as closely as he can, letting the stands of his hair poking out from his beanie tickle your neck. “Careful with that one, he’s a pervert.” 
You’re quick to admit interest in this one too, swatting Heeseung’s hair from your neck without thinking much about it. Which, arguably, doesn’t quite sit well with him.
Not only are you almost entirely ignoring him now, but it’s his fault for pointing out his friends to you again despite his attempts at making them appear unappealing to you. It seems that his girlfriend’s little sister is a bit too eager to look at guys, yet not eager enough to look at him.
“Oh yeah?” You look for a little too long at Jake, in Heeseung’s opinion, as he draws his finger over to the very sober Sunghoon. 
“You remember meeting him though, he made sure of it.” Heeseung rolls his eyes from beside you, leaning hard. “Also a pervert, just a little less obvious. I’d steer clear.” 
“Is Jay the only one that isn’t a pervert?” You ask off handedly in a shy chuckle, bobbing your head now to the music bumping against the walls. 
“God, did I not just tell you he mentioned you?” Heeseung shifts his weight to his other leg, skewing his head and looking straight down your shirt. “He asked if you were like your sister, the freak.”
He leans away from you at that point, noting that your drink is already near empty again and needing to refill it so that way he can push his own opinions into that empty little brain of yours. 
“What do you mean, like my sister?” You ask, watching him take the cup from you and place it right there in front of the same ingredients he just used to make the drink before. 
“Well,” He tilts his head back slightly when he turns to prepare the drink, eyes looking at you in a dark and somewhat scary way, still with a charming smile though. “Your big sis kind of got a little dirty on our first date. Guess Jay hopes you’re the same.”
Heeseung hopes you are too, but not for them. 
And, for you? It’s not like you’ve ever been given a chance to do such a thing. However, upon meeting and then re-meeting his friends from afar, all of them really are quite attractive. Maybe you could follow in your sister’s footsteps just to say that yes, you fuck on the first date too.
“I guess I am a bit like her.” You say offhandedly, looking away from Heeseung and tipping your head back around the corner to check the three men out again.
And when Heeseung turns to give you another full drink, he snaps his fingers. 
“Get back in here.” He says, and when you turn to face him again, his eyes land right back on your chest. 
“I’d advise against it.” He slurs at seeing your curious gaze land on one specific friend, stirring your drink with his fingers much like he did before. “Jay is a slut.”
“All of them are, actually.”
Unfortunately, Heeseung’s warnings go through one ear and out the other. He can see it, especially with the way you place that drink up to your lips and make your way into the living room, leaving him behind without so much as a “thank you”. 
And when you sit, directly between Jay and Jake, both of them turn their heads from the large TV screen, which allows Sunghoon to land some pretty major blows on them until he, himself, turns his head to witness two drunk idiots and a pretty girl between them. 
“Heeseung said you asked about me.” You state boldly, leaning into the wrong person to say it. 
“Well, he’s a liar.” Jake bellows out, studying how drunk you are and glancing up at Jay with a snide grin. Raising his brows and gripping his controller. 
“That would be me who asked.” Jay pipes in, and it’s the first time you’ve heard his voice directly address you, but man, alcohol is fun. It makes you feel even more bold when you turn to look at him with a face that you assume shows interest.
“Why didn’t you just ask me yourself?” You ask, ignoring that you fumbled the greeting.
“You weren’t drunk enough,” Jay laughs, ignoring the screen as it gives Sunghoon his win. “I see now though,” He looks you up and down, slouching back against the couch and stretching his arm wide around the back of it, and you.” You’re definitely drunk.”
You nod happily, eyes turning to Jake, who is still just checking you out. 
“Sure am.” You laugh, hopping up in one motion and turning to face them. “Heeseung also told me that you’re all fucking perverts, so.”
Jay and Jake both lend a “what the fuck, bro?” face at Heeseung, who was slouched against the wall, yet again, watching how you interact with his friends.  He simply shrugs at them with a malicious smile into his drink. After all, he’s the one on top of the world right now. Not only does he have a hot as fuck girlfriend who lets him live and do as he pleases, but now he’s got a younger version of her running around, acting like she knows how to whore herself out.
He can tell you’re just like her in that regard. Ready, willing, wanting to experience everything all at once if the world throws it at you. From the way you sat between his friends to the way you snitched on him with a pretty smile on your face. Oh man, the guys probably love you already.
“So, what?” Jay rolls his eyes as Jake watches you stand on wobbling legs. “You don’t like to get laid?”
You bellow out a laugh that nearly throws you off balance, but Jake is very quick to lunge forward and grab your arm to steady you, forcing you to spill your drink all over yourself and him. 
“Sure I do,” You ignore the blatant show of your mindstate and instead, remember how you’ve actually had plenty of sex during whatever time you could fit, in whatever place was hidden enough that didn’t involve your own home. “Why, you trying to get some?”
Jay smirks at you as Jake holds your half-spilled drink, listening to you flirt and smiling much the same way. 
“Maybe.” Jay shrugs, side eyeing both of his friends. “You gonna give it up?” He adds, now blatantly checking you out from head to toe, liking very much what he’s seeing. 
“Nope.” Heeseung suddenly cuts in, staring his three friends in the face as he grabs your drink from Jake and hands it back to you before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pretending to be the knight in shining armor your sister wants him to be. 
You look back at the three men as Heeseung leads you away, then you note that Sunghoon shrugs at you.
“What the hell?” You ask, slightly annoyed with Heeseung and the lights of the kitchen blinding you once again. “I was busy.”
“Busy doing what? Teasing my friends?” Heeseung shakes his head as he turns away from you, placing your cup down and opening the bottles back up. “You’re playing a dangerous game, babe, I’d stop if I were you.” 
“And? Maybe I like it.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how the alcohol radiates behind your eyes and lends two Heeseungs to pretend you’re not attracted to. At least with his friends, you can be more open about it. 
Heeseung stops making your drink and turns to look at you and the way your eyes struggle to adjust. He’s entirely floored by that statement. The fact that you’ve kept to yourself for the most part since you’ve moved in, and now you’re all cute and drunk in front of him revealing just how much of a whore you might be if you were given the chance? Damn. 
“Your sister would kill you.” He says, turning back to your drink and knowing that your sister probably wouldn’t actually give a shit if you fuck his friends. He does though. 
“I mean, I guess I won’t stop you.” He lies, now turning back to make your drink the exact same way and giving it to you despite knowing he shouldn’t be giving you more. 
“Can honestly say you’re a bit too pretty for them, though.” He adds in a snide compliment, wanting so badly to flirt but doing his best to appear like it’s totally normal for him to say these things. 
And as he notes your stare at him, processing the words, he takes this moment to grab a towel from the sink to dab away at the drink that you previously spilled all over yourself. 
You look at him, watching him dab the towel against your arm. He seems focused on doing it, pretty face and clear skin shining in these morgue lights in the kitchen compared to everywhere else in the house. And then, you note how when he looks up, his eyes stop momentarily at the amount of cleavage you’re revealing for this occasion. Hah, he probably thinks his messy strands of hair hid his eyes from you, but you saw it. 
“Oh, I get it.” You take in a deep inhale, reaching to pull his beanie over his eyes and letting out a bold laugh because really, you’re pretty drunk by this point. “You’re a pervert too.”
Heeseung shrugs, lifting the beanie back up and standing much taller in front of you. He skews his head down, looking right past your face and down your shirt this time. Proud of seeing the curve of them and the space between that could probably stimulate any cock you squeeze there.
“Maybe, yeah.” He smirks, taking a slight step closer and letting both arms trap you against the counter, hovering above you with an intimidating stance. “Maybe even more than they are.” He adds, already preparing himself to press his hips up and against you, uncaring of how it would look if he were to be found like this with you. 
Unfortunately, he’s forced to care because there’s a happy pair of footsteps making their way to the kitchen, and he really should not have been about to do that in the first place. He stumbles back at the sound, smiling at you with a quick, tipsy wink. 
It leaves you a little dizzy as you stare at him with a weird kind of aroused feeling in your gut. Surely that’s the alcohol too, it has to be. You’re very quick to shrug off the small intimate moment as you hear your sister’s loud and booming voice calling out his name.
You watch as she envelopes him in a fraction of a second, lifting on her unbalanced feet to immediately start making out with him. 
You’re not sure why you stand there and watch for a second, a little zoned out before Heeseung opens his eyes briefly and looks at you throughout the bruising kiss he’s currently an active participant of. 
There’s that same look again, only this time he’s doing it while licking into your sister’s mouth. You’re so fucking confused right now. All the signals have to be your imagination, right?
You snap out of the daze then, whispering a small “ill just go somewhere else.” before leaving the kitchen and finding yourself at the table just outside of it. 
You try to keep your eyes to yourself at this point regarding Heeseung, feeling all of the buzz and heat in your gut at the idea of being allowed to be openly sexually attracted to just about any man you lay eyes on. He’s nothing special, just a handsome guy. His friends are just as attractive, right?
And as you trail your eyes around the room trying to find someone to go mingle with, you are instead surrounded by your sister’s friends. Still, when you glance to the living room, every single time, either Jake, Jay, or that other guy is watching you with eyes that you’ve read before from other men.
Arguably, the same eyes Heeseung gave you just a few minutes before. At least with them, you know you’re not reading those bedroom eyes wrong.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Give me a week.” Jake says, elbowing Jay in the side and taking a hefty sip of his terribly mixed drink as his eyes drift to the new girl surrounded by other hot girls. “I'll be in her bed before the week is up..” 
Jay rolls his eyes, standing from the couch and stretching out his own tipsy limbs as he walks to Sunghoon and sits on that couch instead. 
“Three days for me then.” He says, giving Jake a too-confident face. “I could go over there right the fuck now and have her on her knees, probably.” He says as he looks at you, fitting in so well with the group of girls. Possibly being the hottest one too. “Maybe.”
Sunghoon rolls his eyes at his slurring best friends, clearly drunker than they realize. 
“You both take the wrong approach.” He says, stiffening his shoulders before slouching entirely against the couch, considering ditching the baby-sitting job and having a drink as well. “You think they’d just let you fuck her? I’ll get her to go on a date with me first. Get her legs open in my car after.”
“Quite frankly, Sunghoon, I don’t really give a shit if they’d let me. I’m going to get some of that.” Jay responds.
All three of them are staring at you, thankfully, you don’t seem to notice as you fall into a conversation with that same group of girls, plus your sister now. And just as Jake was about to add more to the conversation, Heeseung makes his way in. 
“Don’t–” Heeseung slurs as he flops beside Jake, letting his heavy limbs hurt his friend. “–even think about it, Jakey boy.” He says, knowing for a fact what all three of his whore friends are thinking. They’ve been staring and glancing at you all night.
Jake avoids eye contact, because he’s definitely thinking about it. 
“No worries.” Jay shrugs. “We’re just looking, that’s all.”
Somehow, someway, all three of Heeseung’s friends pick up on what Jay is putting down. Ah, a deal of leaving him out, they suppose. 
After all, Heeseung already managed to bag your sister. They know he’d keep her little sister off limits to them too. Out of respect or some shit, probably. Bro code, all of that. 
“Keep it that way.” He hums, shoving Jake and laughing. “She’s too hot for you guys anyway, just like her sister.”
There’s a shared look between the three as Sunghoon lunges for Jay’s drink and takes a sip of it. 
“Heeseung, we’re crashing here tonight.” He bellows out through tangy lips. 
And, well, Heeseung didn’t argue because he knows he’s not in a state to really give a shit at this point. The only thing he needs to be focused on right now is willing his cock to soften up a bit before he does something drastic about it.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Heeseung thinks hard as he looks at himself in the mirror. He’s seeing two of himself which is kind of funny in one aspect, but also terrifying because he didn’t intend to drink this much.
Why is he so upset to see his friends go for you? You’ve been here a week and he’s already feeling so jealous? Really? Then again, he knew from the moment your sister told him you were moving you that it was going to be either very interesting or incredibly difficult. 
Mostly because he’s stolen glances at you for years. Wondering when you’d ever come to visit, always looking so pretty and happy during those brief holiday gatherings. Oh yes, he’s had his eye on you for a fucking while. And now? You’re living here? And coming onto his friends right after he warned you not to? 
For the past hour as he sipped and watched you roam the house, back and forth between the girls, your sister, and his boys, he couldn’t help but scoff at you for it. You haven’t spoken to him since the kitchen incident. A little bit of a blatant moment on his part, he admits, he even surprised himself with that.
Still, this protective feeling doesn’t come from being your future brother in law. Absolutely not. It stems entirely from the twitch in his pants he’s gotten nearly every single moment he’s gotten to take a long look at you. 
It was manageable before, where he’d see you maybe once or twice a year. But now? It’s every single day, and it pisses him off that you’re not mingling with him during this party. 
He stares at himself, bobbing his head to the music in the mirror before leaning forward against the counter and inching closer and closer to his own face.Finally, he can focus in and see only one of himself looking back in the mirror. 
All he sees is a man who has managed to bag himself the perfect woman. One willing to coddle him and take care of him like a mother would, one willing to let him float through life unemployed for the time being, one that doesn’t entirely let him fuck the way he wants to solely because she’s far too confident in herself to let him pull such a thing with her. 
Heeseung tilts his head at himself as he examines his face in the mirror, knocking his beanie off and running his fingers through his hair. Leaning back and once again to relish in his own doubled vision.
What he really sees looking back at him in that mirror is a man who bagged himself an almost perfect woman who appears to have a truly perfect sister. It’s the fact that suddenly, he can admit that he is bored in the bedroom, and a man who is far too eager to ignore that if he got the chance, he would be just like his friends regarding you.
He would be getting your number and asking to see what those tits look like under that skimpy shirt you’re wearing tonight. You’d probably show them too, considering the fact that you lived your entire life up until this point barred by church sermons and non-existent doors that offer no privacy to so much as finger yourself. You’re probably dying to experience all of the things you were already supposed to be well acquainted with at your age. 
And as he thinks about it, head spinning in thoughts of what he’s already done just moments after you officially moved in, he slips his hand down. Groping himself through his jeans and staring down at the bulge that sits just above the counter. 
He hangs his head, smirking and shivering at the small touch he lends to his own length. It’s the fact that he just got hard over the confirmation of being sexually unsatisfied in his own bedroom. The shamed truth that he stood here thinking a little too hard about what kind of nudes you’d send if he ever chose to ask for them, it’s not something he’s ashamed of either. 
In fact, the thought of sneaking out of the bed while your sister sleeps just to slip into your room and cover your pretty little mouth in his cum? That’s more arousing than knowing he could just leave the bathroom right now and fuck your sister. 
And he stands there for a few minutes testing that theory, running his fingers along the swollen inseam of his pants in a careful way, like his girlfriend does. He twitches once at the feeling, glancing up at himself in the mirror again, trying hard to imagine her in this bathroom with him. 
Another twitch, weaker this time. He laughs at himself quietly in defeat before breathing in a deep inhale through his nose, allowing the muffled music just outside of the door to fade off through his hot ears and aroused mind. 
He closes his eyes briefly when he grabs himself now. Rougher, harsher, messier. Trying to mimic the hand of a woman who probably hasn’t done this too much, trying to mimic what he thinks you’d do. His hips shift forward almost immediately and without intention, chasing the feeling of inexperience. Chasing the thought of someone that isn’t his girlfriend. He chuckles more now, confirming his theory.
Chasing it with his eyes closed up until he does open his eyes and sees himself looking so out of it for you. Knowing that you’re just ten feet away if he were to walk out of this bathroom right now, so drunk and cute, you probably wouldn’t think twice about giving it to him. Knowing that if he really wanted to, he could take you the way he’s always wanted your sister and you'd probably love every second of it. 
He’d fuck you better. You’d be tighter, wetter, and louder for him than she ever has been.
And just as he goes to slide his hand down the front of his pants, intending to fuck his own fist to the thought of you tonight rather than turning that lock behind his own door to get between your sister’s legs, there’s a loud knock on the door. He jumps at the sound, adjusting his pants right back to where they belong before whipping around a bit too quickly and sending a bottle of perfume clattering to the floor in a loud POP sound.
“Shit-” He groans, smelling the intense aroma of what your sister wears, forcing his mind back to the reality of not being allowed to fuck you. 
He tiptoes around the broken glass, nostrils burning at the strong scent before swinging the door open with an annoyed roll of his eyes. 
“Heeeeeeeeseungie!” Your sister sings, fumbling over and leaning on him instantly with her arms circling his shoulders. She’s so gone that she doesn’t even notice the scent of her favorite perfume that just got destroyed. 
“Hey honey,” Heeseung says calmly, appearing far more sober despite being a bit buckled at the knees. “Need help?”
She nods against his chest, unaware of his softening cock that wasn’t at all raging for her just moments before.
“There’s glass all over the floor right now, let’s go use your sister’s bathroom.” 
The length in his pants shrank nearly instantly upon feeling her cling to him like this, with that cute, high pitched, voice she tends to use when she’s needy. He tries not to think about that though. Coming to terms with the fact that what used to get him off is currently turning him off? That’s too much of a dangerous thought right now. 
“Mhm,” Your sister hums as he guides her to your closed bedroom door.  “Wait!” Your sister panics, coming to her drunk senses for just long enough to blurt “She came in here with Sunghoon earlier, we should knock.”
Heeseung stiffens for a moment, pausing his step just outside your bedroom door. The weight of his own girlfriend against him should be something he loves right now, but he just finds himself wishing she’d get the fuck off of him. 
The fact he’s somehow more pissed about you behind this door, probably giving it to Sunghoon, than he is in love with his girlfriend right now? Telling. He knocks once before immediately turning your door knob. Locked.
“Hey, your sister needs to use the bathroom.” Heeseung shouts right up against the crack of the door, wiggling the knob. “Open up!”
“Use the other bathroom!” You shout back in a muffled and far away sounding voice. 
Heeseung stands there, pretending he doesn’t notice the sound of shuffling on the other side when the song booming through the speakers changes for a split second. 
“Can’t use the other bathroom! There’s glass on the floor!” 
Silence from the other side of the door for a brief moment then, click! You crack it open, cheeks flushed and eyes struggling to focus on him. Heeseung immediately pushes the door open to reveal not only Sunghoon, but Jake and Jay all three lounging around your room.
Still fully clothed, at least, but he can tell at least one of them appears to be struggling to hide his hard on. (Jake.)
Heeseung narrows his eyes at all three of the men. Jake sitting stiffly on the floor at the end of your bed, hands over his lap. Jay, lounging on your bed, as if he’s been on it a thousand times with a half-boner on full display. And then Sunghoon, clearly feeling some type of buzz as he’s the only one still drinking, leaning right up against the dresser that Heeseung built himself.
“Ooh,” Your sister hums, wiggling her finger at you.”Scandalous.” 
You lend her a shy smile as you take a step back, willing them sooner rather than later to leave solely because you were busy in here.
Not like, fucking or anything. Just having a nice, innocent, conversation with three hot guys. That’s all. Plus, you’d never have been able to handle sitting alone in a room with these three if it weren’t for the alcohol in your system anyway. Especially with the way you initially only invited Sunghoon into your room to show him how you had the same style of socks he was wearing. Jake immediately followed both of you, followed by Jay, who was the one who closed the door and locked it. 
And you pay no mind to Heeseung and your sister walking to your bathroom on unbalanced steps, you find yourself flopping back on the bed right beside Jay instead.
None of them have done anything at all to make you feel awkward or like this situation is dangerous either. In fact, the only thing you guys have talked about are the mutual interests that you share. 
Poor you, so aloof when drunk. Unable to comprehend the fact that every single one of the guys in your room right now have made attempts to steer the conversation in their own way to things not so innocent. 
You do try to ignore what happened in the kitchen with Heeseung though, avoiding eye contact with him as he makes his way back out of your room after helping with your sister. You think he’s glaring, maybe, but oh well.
“Anyway, back at home my dad would have never let me wear band shirts.”
“That’s tough.” Jay comments, side eyeing your chest in that top and low-key wondering how nice your tits would look braless, under one of his band shirts. “Bet he didn’t know he raised not one, but two sneaky daughters.”
You smile triumphantly, ignoring the shadow of your sister that they force you into. 
“They made it really hard to break rules. Now though? I get to wear stuff like this and hang out with guys like you.” 
“Yeah,” Jake trails off, turning his body to peek at you from the end of the bed. “Probably not the smartest move on your part.”
You bring your attention to him, seeing a blur of charming eyes and messy hair. 
“What do you mean?”
“What he means is that, it’s probably not ideal to get shit faced then lock yourself in a room with three horny guys.” Sunghoon asserts, pushing off of the dresser and now setting himself on the foot of your bed. “You can’t tell?” 
You, for some reason, are astonished at his words. Sunghoon, compared to the other two, seemed more quiet and reserved if you’re being honest. Then again, you’ve only known these guys for a few hours by this point. What you do know about Sunghoon, is that he’s horrifyingly attractive in the way he carries himself, which you can’t really say the same for Jake or Jay. 
With his perfected dark hair and tall stance. he looms around with each expression on his face leaving little to the imagination in the way his eyebrows accentuate whatever thought flows behind his eyes. Somehow, he’s still the hardest to read, as you watch him assert his own form of dominance on your bed. 
You’re blissfully unaware of how tame Sunghoon was actually being at this moment though. All three of them, they’re competing to see who fucks you first, and whoever wins? Ah, not only do they get a paid night at the bar out of it, but both losers have to fork over another sum of money equal to that of two seasons worth of battle passes to whatever game the winner may choose to play. 
“I think this is a good time to hand you my phone, give me your number.” Jay cuts in quite quickly, ignoring the way Sunghoon invites himself into the space he created with you. 
Jay doesn’t even let you process his words as he tosses his phone to the side and at you, watching it land on your stomach before sliding off to the other side of you. 
“Ah, you’re cute.” He chuckles upon noting your terrible coordination skills of grabbing said phone. 
“Well, I’m drunk, so.” You dead-pan, freezing when you feel him lean over you to grab the phone himself, staying there and hovering over you with it in his hand.
You let out a small gasp when you meet his eyes, staring straight through you. 
Sunghoon rolls his eyes at Jay’s blatant show of interest, and Jake simply watches. Studies how you react to the forwardness.
“Go on.” Jay encourages you, holding the phone directly in front of you, where your eyes are still glued to his confident face, as if he’s not practically caging you in on your own bed like this. “Type it in.”
You do. Somehow managing to type your number perfectly on the screen placed in front of you, and he’s quick to turn the phone to himself, flicking his eyes back and forth between you and the screen as he presses the call button.
Your phone vibrates from the dresser and Jay gives a victorious and somewhat dark smile. 
“One for me, zero for the idiots.” He laughs, lending you one more glance, a squeeze of his palm against your waist, and then he’s moving off of you and your bed as a whole. “Call me when you kick them out, I’ll sleep in here tonight.” He adds, leaving no room for argument before leaving the room entirely.
That leaves Sunghoon and Jake, sitting there trying to pretend it wasn’t expected of Jay to at least get your number first. He always starts strong, then again, he also always fumbles hard when things get gritty. In game and out of game. 
“What a prick.” Sunghoon sighs, flopping back on the end of your bed and forcing you to shift your legs up and press them together to make room for his broad body.
He turns his face to look at you from down here, watching you spread your legs to look back at him. The motion is innocent at best, because you seem to trust that he’s not trying to be a pervert right now. Oh, but he is. 
He looks at you from this angle hard, realizing how easy it could be to shift just a foot in the right direction to have his face right where you’d probably like it. 
And you note the way he’s looking at you.
“Do you guys like…” You glance away from him, over to Jake who is now making his own way onto the bed where Jay was lying before. You shift for a moment, feeling like prey. “Do you guys always share a girlfriend?”
Jake snorts. 
“Share?!” He laughs at your question more before settling back against your pillows and landing his hand on your thigh. Easy, simple, and obvious. “We don’t share anything.” He explains now, feeling the fabric of your bottoms and pushing your legs closed so that Sunghoon can’t lay down there and think up all sorts of fantasies. 
“You’re gonna have to pick.” Sunghoon says in an annoyed tone, glaring at Jake for closing your legs.
He lifts up on his arms now, raising a brow. 
“I’ll give you some advice though.” He says, noting how you listen to him more than you do Jake. “Jay has the stamina of a dead horse.”
Snorting only for a moment, you think hard about Jay. Noting his cool and collected demeanor. Uncaring, somewhat cold, but his face seemed warm and endearing when he looked at you from time to time. You could sense the confidence in him from the moment he looked at you when he walked into this house. Instant attraction, without even knowing his name, is what you felt. With that sleek hair style and pretty hands gripping a full bottle of tequila. He probably has more stamina than Sunghoon gives him credit for.
“And Jake.” Sunghoon laughs this time, pointing directly at the guy lying next to you. “Two strokes and he’s out of the game.”
You laugh again looking over to Jake, who stares at Sunghoon with a dark glare. 
“What the fuck dude? That was one time!” He defends himself, babbling about how it was the first time he ever had sex, and how he can go way longer now. 
“Me, on the other hand.” Sunghoon perks up as he runs his hands through his hair before smiling at you. “I just want to take you on a date.”
Ding ding ding! We have a winner. 
“Really?” You ask, floored over possibly landing your first date in years that your parents wouldn’t be attending.
“Of course.” He nods politely, ignoring that Jake is even in the room now. “I’m not the kind of guy who is just trying to get between your legs.” He lies easily, glaring at Jake again for closing your legs earlier.
“So, what do you say?” Sunghoon encourages you to pick him at this moment, and the nod you give has him pulling his own phone out, asking you to tell him your number rather than forcing you to type it into his phone. 
You smile as you give him the numbers, not at all seeing Jake try to sneakily type it into his phone as well. 
“Good.” Sunghoon says, flopping back on your bed and now using his own hand to part your legs again. You look at him from above and feel elated by how petty and clean cut he is. “Don’t call Jay when I leave, then.”
You hum a confirmation, stretching out your arms and feeling confident as all hell at the way tonight has gone. Up until, well, Sunghoon makes his way out of the room and tries to drag Jake with him. Only because he knows Jake is awful at talking to girls but man, do they swoon if they’re into desperate guys. You seem to be into just about anyone, if Sunghoon is honest with himself. 
“Come on, dickhead.” Sunghoon gripes at Jake, grabbing his hoodie and physically trying to drag him out of the room. 
“I’m not going anywhere.” Jake says, pressing all of his body weight against your mattress and kicking Sunghoon away from him. “Play fair or I’ll tell her about last weekend.”
Sunghoon instantly avoids eye contact with him, knowing that if Jake were to spill the beans on how he forgot to leave the server during his uh…session, a date would be out of the question not only for now, but for good.
“You’re the fucking worst.” He grimaces before releasing Jake’s hoodie and stepping out of the room, only half wondering if he should truly let Jake shoot his shot as well.
Ultimately, Sunghoon finds himself stepping out of the door and directly into Jay. 
“Well played.” Jay comments. “Guess I’ll just have to prove to her that you’re full of shit, won’t I?” 
Sunghoon smiles a wicked grin, eyes narrowing at Jay. 
“You won’t even get the chance.” He says, looking past Jay and down the hallway at Heeseung, who is shooting a death-glare at them. “Oh, check it.” He changes the subject by shoving Jay in the side to look at their friend. “He’s mad.”
Jay turns to look at whatever it is Sunghoon is talking about and simply laughs. 
“He can tell something is up. Maybe we should tell him?” Jay asks, crossing his arms in interest. 
“Eventually.” Sunghoon laughs as he pushes past Jay and makes his way to the kitchen for another drink.
Jake, on the other hand, is fucking vibrating as he sits alone in this room with you, dodging the questions about what Sunghoon did last weekend to cause such a reaction with an entirely made up sob story. 
“Oh my god?” You coo out, turning to face him entirely. “That’s so sad!”
Jake mumbles, nodding his head as if he pities himself with a pout on his face. 
“Yeah, I guess that’s just how things go for me though.” He shrugs, blinking at you with the biggest and softest eyes he can manage. 
“I can’t believe she did that!” You bellow out now, entirely invested in the backstory of the love life he lost just a few months prior. “With her own cousin, too?!”
Jake nods again with that same pout, looking as defeated as he can, trying to be as charming as he possibly can.
You lean forward to give him a some form of hug at this moment, drunken emotion overtaking you as you sit and watch this poor guy pour his little broken heart out. 
“If it makes you feel any better, my last boyfriend broke up with me because my dad threatened him.”
“No, that’s awful.” He chuckles sadly, shaking his head at you. “We’re both just unlucky, huh?”
He nods his head, seemingly to get you to shadow his actions, and as expected, you do. You nod to confirm his words, still invested in the fact that such a nice looking guy got fucked over like that, only to be made fun of by his friends for it. 
So invested that you don’t note the way he keeps his hand on your leg or moves it upwards inch by inch. 
“Can we change the subject?” Jake pouts harder, looking at you with sparkling eyes.. 
“Yeah, of course–” 
“You’re really, really, pretty.” He suddenly blurts, looking you in the eye and using his other hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face. You totally believed his entire story, if the saddened look in your eye is anything to go by. “I think you should go on a date with me instead.”
You break eye contact, looking down again and only just now noticing his hand on your leg. Only just now noticing that hard-on he’s sporting in his pants. 
“Jake.” You say, lifting your eyes back to him. “Are you–hard?” You lift your brows in pity again with the subject change, drunken brain telling you that he’s probably crawling in his skin over how hard he is, and how sad everything is for him. 
“Oh, over this?” He asks, dropping his hand and blatantly groping himself. “A little. It always happens when someone as good looking as you gives me the time of day.”
Oh, how sweet. How cute. The fact that Jake gets hard simply over someone being nice to him? 
“Well, don’t worry!” You try to perk him up, not at all realizing that he’s full of shit. “I know it’s not because you’re trying to get into my pants or anything. I won’t tell anyone.” You nod to him with a smile before– Uh oh.
“Well, actually–” Jake tries to start, already about to make his move when he notices the color on your face change and you’re fumbling to the bathroom. 
And just like that, Jake has failed, as he stumbles out of your bed and to your locked bathroom door. 
“Are you okay?” He asks with a sweet and caring voice.
Silence from the other end save for the sound of your sink running full blast probably to mask the sounds of your stomach trying to evacuate the copious amounts of alcohol that’s been fed to you. 
So much for the pancakes being a fix-all solution. And with that, Jake leaves the room while pulling out his phone, texting the number he stole when you gave it to Sunghoon. 
Jake: hey, don’t be embarrassed about getting sick. I’m gonna crash on the couch so if you need me i’ll be there.
After that, the party is pretty much over. Everyone save for the three perverts, Heeseung, and your sister remain.
This leaves your sister already passed out and tucked into her bed by none other than Heeseung himself, Jay already asleep on the couch, Sunghoon piled up on the floor between the dining room and the living room. Probably to create a barrier that would wake him if Jay really tried to get into your room.
And poor fucking Jake, forced to actually pity himself as he curls his body up on the love seat in the living room, pretending that it’s totally big enough for him to be comfortable here.
Heeseung looms around the house once everything goes silent, checking to be sure no one has passed out or died in a corner before coming back to the living room and staring at all three of his bitch-ass friends. 
On one hand, he’s glad they’re in the living room and not in your room. On the other hand, he wants to smother all three of them. One by one.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Heeseung is in his head for a solid three days after the party. So much that his focus is more on you than his games. Which is super fucked up when he thinks about it. That’s why, when your sister heads off to work, he’s plotting in his head every time. He needs you to like him somehow. 
The thoughts loop in his mind. From images of him pinning you up and against that kitchen counter again, to the fantasy image of you dropping to your knees in front of him. If anything, it’s not that he needs to fuck you, he just needs you to want him to.
And this is why he finds himself orbiting you. Finding reasons to come into your room, or reasons to get you out of it. 
“I’m gonna do some laundry, do you have anything I need to wash?” When you didn’t have anything more than what was already in your basket, he still washed your clothes. He also folded one of his own shirts into your pile just to see if you’d wear it. 
“I made some lunch, come eat with me.”  You already ate while he was in the office playing his games, which he should have guessed. 
“Hey, can you help me wash the dishes?” You had nodded, but never left your room and he ultimately ended up washing and drying them all himself. Waiting, waiting, and fucking waiting.
All three times he tried today, you brushed him off with your eyes glued to your phone. 
Something has got to give because it’s starting to get embarrassing how much he thinks about you. With the way he avoided sex last night with his own, very beautiful girlfriend, just to hide in the bathroom at four in the morning getting off with something he absolutely should not have in his possession. 
He doesn’t know how fucking long it’s gonna take to get you to break for him but it’s going to happen one way or the other. You don’t have a choice in the matter at this point .
It looks like you won’t even consider him in that pretty little head of yours simply because he’s considered off limits. He’s gonna have to prove you wrong.
Still, he remembers the way you looked at him during your welcome party. So cute and sweet when you’re drunk, so willing to hang out with him. The interest was there. He knows it was.
And now, as he ticks away at the WASD keys on his keyboard, running his little pixel version of himself back and forth between headshots that he misses every time, he wants to rip his fucking hair out. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Jay shouts through the headset. “He was right there!”
Heeseung knows his friends have every reason to rag on him right now. It’s the fifth lost ranked game of the day and he’s rotting inside at the thought of dropping back down to gold. 
“Platinum my ass.” Sunghoon pipes in, slamming his mouse on his desk out of sheer annoyance at what happened during the last game. “You didn’t down a single person in the past three games.”
Heeseung sighs, ripping his headset off and closing out the game. He can feel it in his body. The frustration bubbling up to the point that he really only thinks about you and this shit needs to stop now before his precious rank drops so far down that even their bronze boy Jake could boast above him. 
He ignores the annoyed shouts from his friends as he disconnects from discord, stands up, and practically storms out of the room and up to your door. 
“I’m coming in!” Heeseung gripes.
This is your first time witnessing him in a bad mood, as he does exactly as he says and swings your door open for the fourth time today. 
“You and me.” He says, pointing a finger at you “Right now.”
“Right now, what?” You ask in a nonchalant tone.
Which only pisses him off more because, fuck if he knows. 
“Get off your phone. We’re hanging out.”
You furrow your brow at him, pointer finger locking the screen of your phone and hiding the string of texts you’d been sharing with one of his very own best friends. Your eyes scan him only for a moment, noting how rushed he appears to be while barging into your room like this.
Large hoodie covering the majority of his body, sweat on his brow probably from all of that screaming you heard in the office earlier, and that same very embarrassing dent on the top of his head from his headset. 
As you look at him in all of his gamer boy glory you nod, only because out of all of his friends, you think you’d rather hang out with him because at least he’s not in your texts trying to land a date, or a hookup, or dropping dick pics by “accident”. 
He’s just Heeseung, your sister’s loving and very hard to read boyfriend. Who you don’t happen to fully remember is capable of pinning you against the kitchen counter while trying to show you how much worse he is compared to his friends. 
“Okay, what do you wanna do?”
He pauses, standing in your room and looking at you lounging on your bed. If he really told you what he’d like to do, it would probably scare you. He needs to think fast, not desperate. 
“Uh,” He hums, glancing away from you and lifting his hand up to finally ruffle that embarrassing dent in his hair away. “Have you ever played video games?”
“Yeah. Not the ones you play though.” You roll your eyes at his attempt at sudden small talk.
God, he shouldn’t have asked. He doesn’t think you could make yourself any more alluring to him after saying that. While his girlfriend has never once even considered picking up a controller, you have? Oh, shit. Man, that’s so hot. 
“Oh yeah?” He perks up in genuine interest, taking a step forward and landing himself on your bed without invitation. “Like what?”
“Party games mostly, I guess. Mario Party, Super Smash Bros, Wii sports, Among us.” 
He nods as you list the most mundane games in the industry. 
“Did you pick up pretty quickly? Like, did you ever win?” He asks, unaware that this conversation feels like literal foreplay to him, pleased by the fact that there’s suddenly more to like about you than just those tits and face….and personality….and intense need to break rules…and–
“Yeah, I can be kind of competitive.”
“Mm.” Heeseung nods in approval, turned on by the very image of you staring into a screen with dead eyes, fingers smashing on buttons and intensely focused. 
“Do you wanna watch me play something?”
“How is that hanging out?” You ask, scoffing at the idea. “Why would I want to watch you have fun?”
Heeseung looks at you. Yeah, that’s fair. He would probably end up ignoring you the whole time anyway, but still. Is it so bad that he asked simply to fulfill the fantasy of having a girl fawn over him and his successes? 
“Okay, then what would you want to do?” He shoots back, knowing it’s fair but hating it nonetheless. Wondering if there’s a chance that someday you’ll pile up on his lap and watch him carry the whole team to victory. Boasting for him more than he does for himself. 
“Horror movie. I’m sure she’s told you but our parents were very strict about what media we consumed. I have a whole list of horror movies I’m trying to work through, but sometimes it’s kind of difficult to watch by myself.”
Fuck yeah. Maybe it’ll end in that cringe and cliche scenario he’s used time and time again when flirting with girls. Images of you jumping from a jumpscare and grabbing him on instinct. Fantasies of you cuddling up real close. So close that he can smell how much you want him. He could get hard right now just thinking of doing this very thing with you. Plus, he fucking loves horror movies.
“Get your pretty ass in the living room then. ” He nods, smiling at you in a way that hides every thought behind his empty, horny eyes. 
And he just gets up and walks out like calling you pretty just now wasn’t at all out of place, he fucking winks at you. It really does throw you off that he just did that so nonchalantly, like he talks to everyone that way when you know for a fact that outside of this house, your sister has to fight him just to get him to wave hello to someone. 
You wonder why it feels like maybe you shouldn’t be spending time alone with him. Arguably, you don’t want to admit that it makes you feel good either. Already with three separate, very attractive people, in your texts insisting that you pick them, that you choose them. 
All of it is very desperate. Almost as desperate as you are to give in to every single one of them, but you can’t just let them know how sheltered you were and how free you feel the need to be now. 
Of course Heeseung, your sister’s boyfriend, calling you pretty would make you feel confident. Like maybe you could be with someone just as attractive as him, or perhaps no longer live in the shadow of everything you wish you could be. 
Her. Everything was always about her. 
“Oh, your sister got top of her class! She’s gonna be moving out soon!” She really just left you there to suffer alone. 
“Ah! Your sister just bought a house! I heard she and her boyfriend might marry soon!” 
You scoffed that day when you entered college, no one congratulated you for the countless free rides or multiple acceptance letters. No, it was all about her despite the fact that she lived an hour and a half away and you were right there.
She was only better than and outshined you because she was older and got there first. It was never competitive with you until everyone in your life expected you to outshine, outdo, and outwit her. 
Still, you jumped at the opportunity to live here solely to get away from your parents. Solely to try and live outside of everything you could be, only to become whatever the fuck you want to be. And yeah, you love her immensely because she truly is the only person who never expected you to be her. There’s so much resentment but an equal amount of love within you for your sister. 
And while Heeseung has no idea of this resentment you have rotting in your chest, you also have no idea that Heeseung believes the one thing you hold over your sister is the fact that you’re just her, except, well…younger, hotter, wilder, prettier, more inexperienced. Cuter voice. Snarkier attitude. Open, and perhaps, willing. 
If you knew that, perhaps Heeseung calling you pretty as if it’s his natural born right would become something different in your head. Perhaps you’d want to live in your sister’s shadow just once more. Why not try and take what your sister has? Wouldn’t that be fun?
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
What a fucking bummer, Heeseung thinks, as he sits on one end of the couch with you on the other. He’s watched you more than the movie at this point, but the clock is tick-tick-ticking, and you’re just sitting there pushing through the horrors with a smile. Something's got to give. 
Your sister comes home in three hours, leaving space for just one more movie and he is truly determined to score this win if it’s the last thing he does. The worst part? Morals don’t mean shit if you want him to fuck you.
If there’s one thing Heeseung hates more than losing, it’s one-sided attraction. He knows he’s not the problem, you are for not looking at him long enough. You are for not even considering that he could fuck you better than anyone in all of those porn accounts you follow on twitter. Not that he stalked it or anything (he did.)
And that’s why, as his stare becomes darker, he stands up and scratches the back of his head with a sigh. 
“I’ll be right back.” He says, watching you wave him off as if you were totally paying attention to him.
That’s going to change right the fuck now. 
He heads to his shared room with your sister, stepping into the walk in closet and examining himself in the wall length mirror before sighing. 
Goddamn, he really stopped caring about how he looked once he finally got between your sister’s legs and locked her down. It’s no wonder you gave his friends more attention that night than you’ve ever given to him. He inspects his hair, messy and frizzy from his hoodie being pulled over and off of his head throughout the day. The cowlicks in the back leaving nothing to your imagination in regards to when the last time he washed the fucked-up locks was. 
He sighs at himself, licking his palm and trying to tame the cowlick. God, a shower right now would seem ridiculous because he’s supposed to be on the couch with you, standing up the gore and death on screen so your hand will accidentally touch his dick or something. 
No good. He needs to backpedal a little bit with his confidence, probably. He steps out of his room, taking his hoodie off at the same time. He rolls the sleeves of his t-shirt now, wanting to at least reveal his shoulders and arms to you. Wanting to parade himself around the house until you drip for him. 
“Hey.” He walks back into the living room, still rolling the last bit of his left sleeve up and over his shoulder. “Can you pause the movie for like ten minutes and throw a pizza in the oven or something?”
You look up at him and the way he seems like he’s thinking about something far off from any situation that’s currently happening. 
“Yeah, sure.” You nod, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie. “We could just keep watching while the pizza cooks though.”
He chuckles, knowing you’d say that and not at all having an excuse. 
“I need to take a shower.” He dead-pans, as if it’s not sudden or weird that he’s decided to rudely interrupt the last movie of the night with a shower that could definitely wait. 
“Just shower after we finish the movie.” You roll your eyes, still standing to your feet and heading towards the kitchen. “It’s not like your stink will get any worse in the matter of a few hours.”
Oh, so now he smells bad?! Is that why you aren’t into him?
“Or you could stop complaining and make the fucking pizza.” He snaps for the first time with a tone that indicates you should probably listen and do as he says. 
“God, what’s your problem?” 
“My problem? What’s yours?” He shoots back, far too annoyed that you play hard to get like this. There’s no way you seriously aren’t getting it. “You’re the one sitting around like you’d rather be doing anything else.”
You press the preheat button on the oven, and look at him shocked. Are his–feelings hurt? Are you really acting like a bitch, or uninterested in getting to know the man your sister will probably spend her life with? 
Were you really acting like you weren’t having a good time? God, you must be such a drag. 
“What? I was having fun, Heeseung, I like watching movies with you.” You try to explain, but he cuts you off.
“Fucking act like it then.” He gripes before turning on his heel and leaving you alone in the kitchen. 
It’s not like you knew he expected you to be interested in friendship with him or anything. You were just…hanging out. You really didn’t know it was supposed to go differently in his head, and the fact that it appears that he does have a specific expectation?  You wonder how to fulfill it. 
After all, you’re trying to avoid showing all the interest you actually have for him when you’re hanging out. It’s what you’re supposed to do, right? And well, by the time he’s out of the shower and presenting himself to you, you think you might have a better idea as to what he’s thinking. Is he trying to impress you right now? 
You can smell his cologne mixed with a minty scented shampoo. His hair looks blow dried. His skin is glistening, and he’s fucking shirtless. 
He watches when he sits down, this time closer to you on the couch presumably so you could share the pizza sitting on the coffee table just in front of you then he checks the clock. Only about thirty minutes wasted out of the remaining time he has with you alone, and then he checks you. Staring. Damn right. 
To you, he looks different.
Not just handsome, or kind of endearing in a loser way. But he actually looks sexy sitting there, with those loose gray sweatpants leaving nothing to the imagination in terms of size, and his exposed torso makes it harder to keep your eyes to yourself.
 His broad shoulders seem to accentuate his neck much more than you imagined considering you never have seen him lounge around like this, and his hair is no longer dented. It’s washed, fresh, and looks fucking good on him. 
Then, his smirk. It’s permanent on that knowing face of his.  
“What are you looking at?” He side eyes you, totally ignoring the pizza because he wasn’t actually hungry. 
He feels a victory welling up in his chest at the way you look at him though, seeing you already get so flustered? So easy. 
“Um,” You pause, tearing your eyes away in embarrassment. “Nothing.” 
He chuckles once in a short breath before stretching himself back against the couch cushions, spreading his legs wide and taking dominance over the space in the room. 
“Didn’t seem like nothing.” He flirts easily, testing the waters of how willing you are to admit that he’s getting his way. “You were checking me out.” 
You face forward now, shifting closer to the arm of the couch and pretending like you can't feel the warmth of the hot water he must have used radiating off of him. 
“Of course not!” You laugh nervously, lunging forward for the remote again. “Why would I check you out?”
Heeseung rolls his eyes at your shitty attempt to lie. 
“Because I took my shirt off for you.” He says, turning his head to look at you with a malicious smirk. “Was that not obvious?” 
You turn to look at him in surprise. Why the fuck would he even say that to you?!
“Do you like me better this way? Half naked?”
“What are you talking about?” You avoid him like your life depends on it, not wanting to admit that you definitely find him more attractive right now than you ever have, and the fact that he’s talking to you like this only further pushes you to want what you can’t have.
“You think I’m hot, don’t you?” He presses, bouncing his leg and keeping his eyes on the way your chest heaves at his words. 
“You want me, don’t you?” He continues pressing, repeating the question in a way that makes you feel forced to agree with him. 
“You’re gonna think about me the next time you–”
“Heeseung!” You shout, turning your entire body towards him with heat searing on your cheekbones. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re dating my sister.” You try to bring both him and yourself back to reality with that statement, more upset internally at the fact that you’re right about it. 
He’s dating your sister and yet, he’s…doing this. To you. And you fucking like it?
“Yeah, no shit.” He laughs you off, looking down at his lap and feeling a twitch at the way you don’t leave the room. Proving in some way that you definitely like it. “And I’m still right, aren’t I? You’re just playing hard to get.”
You stare at him, dumbfounded and utterly shocked by his blatant attempts to come onto you. Unfortunately, you’ve never been in this situation before and your eyes tell on you the same way your body language does. Of course he’s right, and you know you’re doing a terrible job of hiding it.
“Ah, Yeah.” He smiles, watching how you try to keep your eyes on his face but failing. “I’m right.” He continues, lifting his ass just slightly to accentuate the shape of his cock under these sweats for you to get a good eye full. 
You swallow, looking away from him and squeezing your legs together. It feels like such a sudden change of atmosphere. What was once a deniable crush on him becomes a confusing whirlwind wet panties and zero morality.
Does he get off on trying to rile you up? There’s no fucking way he’d actually go through with any of this. He’s just doing it because he thinks it’s cute that you want him. Right? 
You know for a fact that if Jay talked to you this way, you would have let him do whatever he wanted to you. But this is Heeseung. Not Jay, not Jake, not Sunghoon, with their shitty attempts at trying to pull off the exact thing. Oh god, this is bad. This is so bad. 
“I’m going to my room.” You swallow around the thick words, not at all wanting to leave the room solely because your body is giving in instantly to the fact that Heeseung is dirty talking to you for no goddamn reason. 
Perhaps it’s the fact that the one thing your sister has that you shouldn’t ever be able to obtain is doing this. Never did you think a mere idea that he’s attractive would turn into a split second decision of wanting him to fuck you. 
“No, you’re not.” He chuckles, spreading his legs a bit wider now and looking down at his lap, the same exact spot your eyes are looking at. “You’re going to try and keep your eyes on the screen, and we’re going to finish this movie.” 
Safe to say, that was a harder demand to follow than you anticipated and he seemed to fucking love raising his brow at you each time he caught your eye on him. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
By the time your sister returned home and essentially tamed her boyfriend from acting out any longer, you felt…insane. She tamed him without even knowing that he was acting out, not double-taking at all when she walked in to him spread out and shirtless on the couch with you struggling to watch the movie. You felt his confidence radiating, making the living room feel suffocating and unstable in terms of if you belong there or not. 
You find yourself in your room now, cuddling up in your bed with thoughts ruminating on how you have not one, not two, not three, but four men throwing themselves at you. You don’t recall ever actually giving them the idea that this is okay. Or maybe you did? You’re not sure.
You scroll through your text messages, old friends from back home falling into the background each time you open a message from Jake, or the other two that consistently check in with you like you’re some sort of prize to be won. 
Maybe you want to be a prize for some handsome guy to flaunt though, and you embody all of that confidence you got from, somehow, having the one man you’re not supposed to ever obtain parading around for you.
You embody it to text back. To be bold. To give in to the arousal that just slammed you in the gut, reeling from the very idea that there are men in this world who want to fuck you and you’re about fed up with pretending it’s a lie.
You: are you done with your game? 
You send the same message separately to all three of Heeseung’s friends, and somehow you’re still unaware that they all three share the information with each other in discord. 
“Are you done with your game?” Jake mimics in a feminine tone. “She’s playing with all of us.” 
Jay chuckles through the mic, damning them to be second and third place as he quickly texts back.
Jay: no, but I can be. Why? 
“To be fair, we’re kind of playing with her too.” Sunghoon cuts in, responding in his own way to your text and telling you that he’s bored, that he’s waiting on you to give him a date and time to pick you up, that he’s annoyed with his friends. 
“Well, yeah!” Jake bellows through the muffled mic. “I mean, look at her.”
“Oh, I’ve looked.” Sunghoon smiles at himself before snapping his eyes to the discord and noting how Jay has muted himself. 
“That mother fucker.”
Jake follows suit, noting exactly what Sunghoon is calling out before lending a groan of his own. 
“He’s trying so hard.” He rolls his eyes, knowing for a fact that Jay is probably already mid text-conversation with you.
And he would be right, as you lay against your pillows and let Jay’s conversation overpower the two other unopened texts from his friends. 
You: im a little overwhelmed right now, not sure how to explain it.
Jay: overwhelmed how?
You: well…
You take a second to yourself to breathe, feeling your entire body radiate with a feeling that can only resemble that of want, or perhaps need. You’ve sexted multiple times in your life, but never in a situation where you’re sexting because you’re overwhelmed more than just aroused. 
It’s the fact that you’re bringing it up this time after playing uninterested since any of them started texting you. You’ve dodged Jake’s dick pics, you’ve pushed off the date you agreed to go on with Sunghoon, and you’ve even gone as far as telling Jay you’re not interested at all.
Now though? You can imagine what he’d think of you to see you bring it up. Do you care though? Not that much. After all, you’re single, you’re consumed by the ability to do whatever you want, and Jay’s hot. 
You: im frustrated.
You: REALLY frustrated.…sexually
Jay: oh yeah? for me?
You stare at the screen, sending him an emoji that confirms your words for a third time before swiping away and looking at your inbox of available men. You know who else is hot? Sunghoon. 
You: hey if we went on a date, where would you take me?
Sunghoon: probably a movie or something idk, why? what would you wanna do?
You: id wanna go to your house
Sunghoon: and why is that, cutie?
And as you pick up conversations with both men, reeling from the attention, you think…hmm, you wanna know who else is hot? Jake. 
You: Jakeeeee
Jake: whaaaat :) 
You: remember that dick pic you sent to me then begged me to delete because it was an accident?
Jake: …
You: i didn’t delete it. 
Jake: you like it?
You: maybe. 
And you guess this is who you are now, plotting and setting up some form of sexting situation with three different men, who are all very close friends, who all very much seem to reciprocate your advances.
It’s actually pretty cool, as you lay here reading words from a different man every two minutes. Jay telling you exactly how he could help you with that frustration, Sunghoon asking you to explain what you’d wanna do in his house with him, and then Jake blatantly sending his cock to you again like he has nothing better to do. 
It’s all fun and games until things start to get real heated and you get kind of into it. Focusing on Jay’s little message of, “im helping you out here, you should help me too. send pics.” 
You ask yourself why you consider doing it before swiping away and landing on a video of Jake, face bright and smiling before lowering the camera. Blatantly fucking himself just because you said he had a nice dick. 
Your body is feeling permanent goosebumps because of those two, overwhelming you more than you could have imagined to see just how far they’d be willing to go to try and convince you to do the same for them.
Sunghoon brings a different form of arousal in his inbox though. Far more tame than the others, asking you to push, telling you to say all of the dirty things rather than him. Pushing for a date. 
Sunghoon: keep talking to me like this, ill come get you right now. 
You: not yet, just this for now.
Sunghoon: no pressure, are you touching yourself at least?
You: I am 
Sunghoon: yeah? thinking about me too right? 
You: yea
You’re lying. Kind of. Half-lying, at least, because you are thinking about him but you’re also thinking about Jake, and Jay, and sending nudes, and– Heeseung.
You’re thinking about Heeseung, and only because you can hear the shuffling in the room a wall over. Then? Thumping, right behind you as you lay in your bed. At this moment, you should be able to focus on the men blatantly trying to fuck you, but instead you’re reminding yourself of how Heeseung looked earlier.
And you’re listening. Thumping, thumping, thumping, until you hear–
“Don’t cover your mouth, she’s probably asleep anyway.” You hear Heeseung bellow out in a far-away voice. 
Great. They’re fucking. Just fucking great. Well, now what? You think, as you thumb back and forth between messages with frustration.
Your mind reels as you listen though. Imagining Heeseung more than anything being the force behind those thumps on your wall. His voice almost croaked when he regarded you directly to your sister while fucking her. Why can’t you stop thinking about him? All it took was a single day of marathoning movies?! A single shower?! 
God, you’ve got to seem desperate to be reacting this way. He probably thinks that shit is funny.  And as you now shove your headphones in your ears so as to not hear anymore of it, you stand on your feet and walk to your bathroom. You’re too interested in being fucked now, might as well give the boys something to look at, right?
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“She really is trying to get away with it.” Sunghoon says, dumbfounded by the receipts provided by all three boys in their own private group chat.
Without Heeseung. 
“Yeah, but she sent me an ass pic.” Jay boasts, smiling to himself and silently saving the other provided images that you sent to his friends. 
“Whatever, I’m picking her up today for what she wants to call a “date”. She literally said she wanted me to pull her hair.” 
Jake gasps, offended.
“What the fuck? She said she wanted to pull my hair!” He groans. “Why am I the one she thinks would like that?! I have a big dick! I could–”
“Anyway,” Jay cuts him off. “She really is just like her sister. Heeseung doesn’t even know how I’ve seen his precious girlfriend’s pussy, only a matter of time before I’m seeing her little sister’s too.” 
Sunghoon rolls his eyes, ignoring Jake’s huffing and puffing as he does his best not to laugh at Jay’s almost victory over your sister. 
“Well, I’m getting the girl this time.” He says, opening his texts and reading through the presumed masturbation session he shared with you last night. “Said she couldn’t wait to see me.” 
“I’m sure she could though.” Jay says, competitive, wanting to win. “You’ll see.”
Sunghoon can sense the competition in the air, knowing that Jay is probably coming up with some lame ass plan to get in your pants before he can even get the chance to pick you up tonight. 
And then there’s Jake.
“You know, maybe she’s right.” He rambles on, thinking hard about how your dynamic with the other two seems to differ greatly from the way you speak to him. “I do have better hair than both of you combined.”
And they stay like that, roasting each other while simultaneously lusting over the same girl until Heeseung gets online and pings them in the regular group chat for a round of gameplay. 
“What’s up, virgins?” Heeseung greets, booting up his game and noting the silence in the voice chat. 
“I said, what’s u–” 
“We heard you.” Sunghoon chimes in, preparing himself for a direct mission of humbling the fuck out of him. “Call me a virgin all you want, doesn’t change the fact that I’m getting my dick wet tonight.” 
“Please.” Heeseung laughs, rolling his eyes as he waits for them to get into the game lobby. “Who would stick your dick in them anyway?” 
“Your girlfriend’s little sister.” Sunghoon announces. 
Excuse me?
“In your dreams.” Heeseung tries to laugh, but is interrupted yet again by his two other friends laughing first. “Wait, you’re serious?” 
Sunghoon hums a confirmation, which leads Heeseung to wonder what the fuck happened in the span of one single night. He could have sworn he had you in the palm of his hand on that couch. He knew you heard how good he fucks your sister. 
There’s no way. 
“Nah, she’s already got a crush on someone else.” He continues to brush Sunghoon off. “And it’s not you.”
“Yeah, because it’s me.” Jay laughs, bombarding Heeseung with another low blow. “Why else would she take her shorts off for me?”
Anger? Yes. Jealousy? Also yes.
“Bullshit.” Heeseung calls out, staring at his discord and the way his friend’s names light up every time they laugh.
 “What are they trying to do, Jake? Spill.”
Jake silences his laughing. 
“Oh, you think he didn’t get nudes too?” Jay laughs harder. “She sent them to all three of us last night. Different pictures too, she wasn’t skimping on the goods, I can tell you that much.”
Heeseung takes a moment to breathe through his nose. “And just why did she send you nudes?”
“I didn’t even ask for them, Hee, honest!” Jake tries to get on his good side. “I guess showing her my dick did something for her though.” That did not get him on Heeseung’s good side. 
“Why the fuck  is she sending you guys nudes?” He asks again, this time slightly raising his voice. 
You should have been sending him nudes to prove your insatiable lust that you must have. Right? Like, why not him? If anyone? 
“Oh, right.” Sunghoon finally reveals the truth. “First person to fuck her wins.” 
“Is that so?” Heeseung leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with narrowed eyes at their stupid usernames. 
Competition is what he’s best at. 
“Yeah.” Sunghoon confirms. “And by the end of the night, I’ll be the winner.” 
“That’s what he thinks, anyway.” Jay snickers. “She’s already texted me a cute little good morning like she didn’t sext three guys last night.” 
“Mhm.” Jake hums into the mic. “Me too.”
Sunghoon tilts his head in confusion at that, now checking his phone and noting that he hasn’t received his own good morning from you yet. Weird. 
“You guys are aware that you can’t do that, right?” Heeseung chimes in, knowing that he’s playing their game now. And he’s good at playing games. “You seriously can’t be trying to rail my girlfriend’s sister.”
“Yeah. We are, actually.” Jay overtakes the conversation. “Besides, she wants it.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You wake up feeling insanely embarrassed by how you acted like night. 
Tonight’s date with Sunghoon probably won’t happen. There’s no way you can live up to the confidence you showed him. 
You: hey can we raincheck?
Sunghoon: no wtf? 
He reacts negatively, because his victory is now being ripped from his hands by the prize herself. It’s not even just like, the fact that he wants to fuck you just to say he did it before anyone else could. It’s the fact that you’re kind of cool. Incredibly hot, and super willing to slut yourself out. 
Just his type. He loves being able to tame girls and keep them locked between his legs, with his cock in their throat. 
You: sorry i just don’t feel good today, can try this weekend? 
Sunghoon sighs, sending you a short approval before focusing back on the intense game playing out on his screen. 
“She canceled on me.” Sunghoon complains, shooting a player dead between the eyes before crouching and running off to find his next kill of frustration. “Jay, what did you fucking do?”
Jay snorts, smirking on his end of the screen, camping like an asshole in a bathroom and waiting for some unsuspecting dad of six to run by and get his cheeks clapped by some idiot with the username of DADDYJAY02. 
“Told her I’d fuck her real good if she cancels.” He jokes, mostly focused on the current game at hand.
Heeseung is pleased to learn that you’re skipping the date though, leading him to believe that maybe he was right in thinking he’s got you in the palm of his hand. 
Still doesn’t change the fact that you’ve got nudes in your phone. Nudes that you sent to three fucking losers that couldn’t even come close to doing what he could do for you. 
“He’s talking shit. She hasn’t left her room all morning.” Heeseung says. “I already told you guys that she has a crush on someone, and it’s not any of you. So, you can go ahead and kiss your bullshit sex-game goodbye.”
Jake pipes in now, listening to the sheer amount of confidence coming from Heeseung and Jay.
“I dunno.” He breathes, picking people off one by one in his own, less-than-great playstyle. “She’s still texting me and being all cute. Maybe she just thinks you guys are weird.” 
“What did she say?” Heeseung asks, now more focused on what Jake might say rather than the fact that Jay just got downed and needs help. 
“Something about how she feels embarrassed about everything but likes talking to me, heart emoji and all.” He says in a nonchalant tone, now being downed himself in game. “Me and Jay are down.”
“Stay down then.” Heeseung scoffs, ignoring both dying friends as he focuses on the win. 
“Dude, fucking pick me up.” Jay now argues, throwing his hands up at the gameplay, watching Heeseung blatantly run straight past him. “Heeseung! Pick me the fuck up!” 
He snickers in response. 
“Stop trying to fuck her and I’ll pick you up.” 
“I’d rather die.” Jay argues back, accepting his in-game death and instead pulling his phone out to text you. “In fact, I’ll text her right now.”
Sunghoon, listening to the chaos and still neck-to-neck in terms of kills with Heeseung, tries to ignore the fact that he’s losing the only game he cares about winning right now. 
“All three of you are starting to get annoying.” Sunghoon mumbles into the microphone, killing the last remaining player and stretching his arms out in a sigh.
“You’re just mad because she’s ghosting you for me.” Jake sings out happily.
Heeseung listens, seething in his head about how they’re really just gonna keep doing this shit and decides, fine. 
He’s already playing the game they’re playing. He’s been playing it for much longer, actually, with those panties he took from your dresser when he built it. With the way he placed your bed against the same wall his bed is against, just so you could listen and suffer for his cock to stuff you full instead. 
If it’s a fucking competition they want, they’re gonna get it. 
And with that? He logs off without so much as a goodbye before heading to his bathroom. For the first time in years caring more and more about how he dresses and carries himself just to see you want him. 
He styles his hair, brushes his teeth, perfects his hair with the hood up on his hoodie, and then heads straight to your room. 
“Hey, Sunghoon said he’s supposed to be going on a date with you tonight.” He says as soon as he gets to your door.
You look panicked.
“Oh, he told you?” You say, avoiding eye contact with him because goddamn does he look good today but also, what the fuck Sunghoon?! 
“Yeah.” He answers in a less than entertained tone. 
“Did he–” You pause, now looking at him and his stupid attractive stance against your door. “–say anything else?” 
“Oh, he told me all about it.” He admits to you now, loving the way you curl into your own embarrassment. “I did warn you, you know.”
You blink at him, wanting to hide from the entire situation. Especially because the only reason you went for his friends was because he got you all choked up. 
“Still, I thought you’d tame yourself a little bit. I mean– Jay too? Really?” Heeseung starts to pick you apart with the information he’s learned today. “And Jake?”
You groan out, covering your face with both hands. 
“God, I don’t know what I was thinking.” You try to explain. “I just–”
“You were wet.” He answers for you, smiling at the way you try to run from the truth. “So wet for me that you ran to my friends?” 
Only now do you move your hands from your face and look at him. Shocked that he got straight to the point, and is entirely correct.
“You got their hopes up, you know.” He continues, taking control of the situation as he crosses his arms and leans his head back and against your doorframe. “Right after getting my hopes up.” 
“What are you–” 
“You know what I’m talking about, and you know exactly what I’m doing.” He cuts you off, speaking for you, thinking for you, not letting you get a word in to doubt a single thing he’s saying. “You know what you’re doing too. So, look at me next time I come in here and call you out on your bullshit.”
Your eyes stay on him, full of embarrassment and a sense of guilt. You feel scolded, which is so fucking wrong and weird for it to come from him of all people. 
“Time to stop pretending now, babe. If you want this–” He says, looking down between his legs and grabbing his bulge. “You’ll stay away from my friends.” 
And then he just…leaves with a smile? Doesn’t even let you respond? 
“I’m going to the store, we don’t have shit to eat in this house.” You hear him complain as he walks down the hallway, acting as if he didn’t just word-fuck you with the truth that you weren’t quite ready to accept. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You’re losing it. Truly, you’re losing every ability in your body to ignore the fact that you not only think about Heeseung in ways you shouldn’t, you want him in ways that should be a fucking crime.
Seeing him grab himself like that in your doorway? Fuck, if he hadn’t of walked away right after, you very well may have found yourself with your ankles up by your ears, begging him to use it on you. 
No self restraint at this point, and you don’t even care. 
Your phone is long forgotten as you pace your room, wondering if you should leave the house too, just to find a sex shop that has a Heeseung sized and shaped cock for you to fuck yourself on in order to get this intense feeling of need out of you. 
That’s really all it took for him to make you go fucking feral for it? A little bit of flirting? A little bit threatening? A grab of his cock, practically dangling it in front of you like the two of you are allowed to be having those kinds of moments together? 
Fuck him for knowing how to get you horny more than you know how to do it yourself. Since when did you like men to act that way towards you? Since fucking when did you get off on a boyfriend that your sister intends to fucking marry?!
It’s so fucked up, and it’s equally fucking hot to you because it’s fucked up. 
Out of everything your sister has that you don’t, Heeseung is the one you want most. And he’s just fucking…he’s just–
God damn it. You sigh, pacing back and forth, checking the time on your phone and ignoring all of your unread texts. Heeseung has only been gone for a total of ten minutes and it feels like you’ve been pacing for hours.
Throbbing between your legs at the small glimpses of his size under whatever pants he wears. With his hair, and his skin, and his stupid, shit-eating smirk that he throws at you. Telling you he knows. Showing you that he likes it. 
You stop your pacing for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut tight to try and flutter the images of him out of your head. Trying to get the reality to come back to you. 
What’s fucked up is that it is reality that he’s doing this to you. You can’t avoid it like it’s a guilty little wet dream you’d be able to hide. 
It’s real.
And, well, fuck it. You love your sister just as much as you always have, even as you want to fuck her boyfriend. Even as her boyfriend seemingly wants to fuck you.
Even as you leave your room, entering their room for the first time. 
Even as you inspect their bed, the placement suspiciously right on the other side of your own bed against the wall. 
Even as you smell the familiar scent of Heeseung on one of the pillows and instantly throw yourself on the bed against it, shoving it between your legs in a desperate and obvious show of how much you really, really, fucking want it. 
And if this is what it feels like to lose your fucking mind? So be it. 
His pillow is soft, offering little pressure to your clit as you writhe against it, but you moan louder than you ever have while pleasuring yourself. For once, the house is empty and for once, you have a point of arousal that doesn’t involve porn.
Your mind falls into images of him, and the way he moves his body during every day instances. Then, to the way he sounded when he fucked your sister in this very same bed. He must fuck hard, because that consistent thumping on your wall seemed to prove it already. 
Fuck, you hope he fucks hard. 
You saw the outline of it a few times by now too, so big even while flaccid and uninterested in you. He must know how to contain himself too. Real calm, real collected when it comes to how he’d probably use it. 
The images swim up and down behind your eyes as you writhe your clit against the corner of his pillow for what feels like ages, knowing your panties are being pushed into the folds of your wet core, feeling your shorts skew as you move, back and forth, stretching with each grind forward. 
You’re aware that parts of your pussy are out in the open between grinds, feeling the soft material of his pillow rub you only slightly raw with the force of your movements, and you simply don’t care. You’re home alone, remember? 
Wait. How long have you been doing this again?
“Oh, fuck yeah.” You hear from behind you, startling you into a defensive position of curling around the pillow. “Bumping it real good, weren’t you? Right up on my pillow?” Heeseung laughs, standing just inside of the room with a step much quieter than he’d normally have when he’s walking around. 
“Fuck, that’s so gross.”  He snickers with hooded eyes and a triumphant smirk as he crosses his arms. 
“You really thought I wouldn’t find out? Like I wouldn’t be able to smell it? I smelled you when I walked in.”
God, the fucking horror that replaces the arousal hits you harder than you ever knew it could as you jump to your feet on buckled knees and try to mutter out an apology.
“I’m sorry.” 
He just said you were gross. He said he could smell you while scrunching his nose. 
“I’m sorry, Heeseung, I’m sorry.” You continue, trying to make your way past him ultimately so you can lock yourself in your bedroom to never come out. 
“Hmm, what makes you think you could just come in here and fuck my things?” He isn’t going to let you go that easy, of course he isn’t.
The thing about him is, he knows he’s got you now. That little sex bet going with his friends? They’re done for.
 Full control of the whole situation is right here in the palm of his hand, and the proof is that embarrassing wet spot you left on his pillow. This was all he needed. You made him chase, and he’ll be damned if he gives you what you want now so easily. 
It’s your turn to ache with the same feeling between your legs. You’re going to be fucking gone by the time he finally gives it to you. 
“I thought y–” You try to explain, not looking him in the eye when he holds you in place by the arm from leaving. 
“Thought I wanted you over her?” He mutters to you in a hot whisper, pulling you back and against him, dipping his head and chasing your line of sight to force you to look at him. “Oh my god, how sad.” 
You try look away, entirely confused, embarrassed, fucking ashamed. 
Never have you let guilt take you over like this because you’ve never allowed yourself to be in a position to feel so goddamn stupid.
He’s going to tell her what you did. You might as well go pack your shit now and get ready to go back home because this was not okay. 
“I’m sorry. I misread…” You’re being forced to look at him, but you still keep your eyes on the bottom of his chin rather than his eyes, feeling his hands squeeze you, not at all noticing how rock fucking hard he is due to the sheer terror you feel at this moment.
“Mm, no you didn’t.” He explains, eyes scanning over your flushed face, tears prickling in your eyes. 
And once again, fucking confusion. The weight of guilt lifts off of you at his words, allowing you to look him straight in the eyes this time. Urging him to tell you that he does want you. That everything you thought previously was true.
That he was trying to come onto you. 
“You were throwing your legs open for just anyone.” He lands the blow harshly, with his breath hitting you square in the forehead. “I just wanted to see if you were really as slutty as Jay said you were.”
A direct blow to any confidence you ever could have had walking around this house. 
You fell for it. Your sister is dating a piece of shit, and somehow you still find him so attractive. You still wish he was lying. 
You still wish he liked you, or wanted you on some level.
“God, such a cry baby too.” He rolls his eyes now, breathing in deep before releasing his hold on you. “Go cry in your room, I’m sure you still have an orgasm to get, don’t you?” 
You refuse the eye contact again as you try to walk away in a way that you wish could make you disappear. He’s making damn sure to shame you straight into the dirt, and it makes you feel so unclean. 
“Don’t you?” He repeats with a louder voice as you walk away, stepping into your room, and closing the door behind you.
Yeah, you’re still probably going to get that orgasm. He knows it. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Heeseung is a nightmare to be around. You’re annoyed that you didn’t notice it before and actually wanted to be around him before that mishap with his pillow. 
You can’t read him. 
When your sister is home, he ignores you for the most part. He spends his time on his PC yelling with friends, he scoffs at you, looks at you like you look and sound ridiculous any time you say something, yet, when he’s with your sister, he’s so, so, loving. 
All over her, really. Hands on her waist, back, thighs, ass. He’s so sexual with her in front of you, to the point that you can’t make eye contact at all with either of them. 
To the point that you miss it every time when he checks to see if you’re watching. 
What’s worse about Heeseung is that you think now that he has no interest in you. Everything he did really was for an ego boost, or like some shitty game he was playing. It got to the point that, yeah, you’re sexting at least one of his friends as often as possible despite never giving them a reason to come over, and certainly not going to see them yourself. 
It’s like a bandaid as you lay in your bed night after night listening to Heeseung on the other side of the wall draw you into a state of lust, pining, and absent passion. So vocal, when he’s fucking her.  You always feel alone when he does it, with your fingers slamming away and offering pleasure that never gets you there. You always come up short, never being able to get off. 
Even with all of that, he still flirts.
Which fucks you up even more. He’ll make you feel so awful about everything that’s happened, everything you actively say or do, and then turn around and smile at you when your sister is at work. 
He’ll offer to make dinner for you. He’ll do your laundry and fold it, always mixing his clothes into the pile by accident. He’ll touch your waist. He’ll brush his hand past yours when he catches you in the hallway while walking by. 
When you try to flirt back, or look at him for too long though? Hope in your eyes and weight lifting from your shoulders at his hidden actions? He shuts you down instantly. 
Like this morning, when you left your room and went to the kitchen to make coffee, he was already there. He came up behind you real close, rubbing what you presume to be his soft dick against your ass as he lifted and grabbed the filters down for you. 
And when you choked up and looked at him? He could see that little glint of hope in your eyes.
“I was just helping. Jesus christ, you’re more needy than your sister.” 
Or that time yesterday, when you were lounging on the couch and he came out after a shower in those same fucking sweat pants, without a shirt again, and sat down next to you. Spreading his legs wide, smirking, and watching you try to avoid his eyes. 
“Can’t even look at me without getting wet, huh?” 
Safe to say, Heeseung is playing the game with his friends a little too hard. Knowing that at any point during the day if he wanted to push you to the floor and take you, he fucking could. 
So that leaves you now, sitting here feeling about as crazy as you did the day you ran into his room and started fucking his pillow. Every day is felt with sexual frustration that you don’t know what to do with, even sexting his friends, even receiving their videos and hot words, even with their promises of multiple orgasms and hour long sessions of head, your frustration isn’t satiated.
You worry it never will be if Heeseung doesn’t move out, or like, fall out a window or something.
And as you leave your room to go back to the kitchen for a snack, of course you note the open door of the office that is far too silent compared to thirty minutes earlier. 
Of course, Heeseung has trained you to be entirely too curious about what he’s doing at all times when the two of you are alone.
Of course, you don’t turn and walk away the moment you see his back turned, shoulder moving, and a brightly colored hentai flashing across his monitor. 
In fact, you stand there solely because you can’t deny yourself of this.
“Was wondering if you’d come in here.” He mutters through a breath, turning his face for a moment before pumping his hand harder. “S’only fair that I let you watch too, right?”
He’s bringing up the pillow incident. Again. Like he hasn’t brought it up a million times since it happened as a form of shaming you. Telling you how it smelled, laughing and asking how many times you planned to do it behind his back. 
You’re still frozen though, coming to terms with the fact that he could call you an ugly whore and you’d probably accept it at face value just to watch the very scene in front of you.
Are you selfish or are you just desperate? 
Maybe a bit of both.
“Come over here.” He says to your silence, now swiveling his chair around and ignoring the animated fuck-fest on screen. 
You take in an inhale, trying not to show it by looking away from him, but ultimately failing when your eyes fall straight to where his hand is in his pants. The tent created by the sheer size of him leaving far too much for you to think about. 
Anyone in this situation would call him a loser. Jerking it to hentai? Looking the way he does? Being unemployed and doing this at like, eleven in the morning? You can tell he hasn’t slept too, and that’s entirely something a simp would do. Something a virgin would do.
But, you want him. You’ve never been so attracted to someone, actually. He sees you swallow at the image too, smirking and stilling his hand. 
“Shit, you’re really just going to watch me?” 
Yeah. You figured that was obvious to him, considering he already thinks you’re gross, embarrassing, and shameless. It’s not like you not watching at this point would change his mind about you. 
So, you just stand there, watching, waiting.
Until he gives you a breathless chuckle and a shake of his head. 
“Come on, get a better look then.” He encourages you through a soft moan, sliding his fingers on the underside of his length, feeling the pre-cum drip out. 
There it is again. Him acting interested. 
It’s really the worst because you give in every single time, clinging to the hope that maybe he really is interested this time, only to be shot down time and time again. 
Right now is no different from the countless other times he’s flirted just to laugh at you trying to flirt back. Even as you walk towards him with shaking hands gripping the bottom of your own shirt for comfort, you know he’s probably just going to pull his hand out of his pants and probably present a very large cucumber or something before laughing at the fact that you really thought. 
Except, he doesn’t do that. 
You can see the wet spot at the top of the tent his cock creates, right where the head rubs up against the fabric and it proves that he’s really touching himself right now.
“Lower.” He instructs under hooded eyes, head leaned back against his chair, body slouched and relaxed. “On the floor.”
Ah, the fucking power he has is electrifying. You really just do everything he says in the hopes that someday, he’ll put it in you. In the hopes that someday, he will show you what it is that your sister loves so much about him. 
The way you do lower yourself to your knees on his floor, sitting right there in front of him with your eyes glued to the hidden act of what he’s doing to himself? God, you’re dirty.
He chews on his lower lip as he works himself up to the image of you simply on your knees, gripping your shirt like it’s the only thing holding you from falling off of the earth. So pretty, so complacent, so willing. 
Fuck, he knows his friends want you and he can imagine that they must furiously get off to this very image themselves, thought up all by themselves. Except they’ve actually seen your body, Heeseung hasn’t seen shit.
“Take it off.” He says through a breath, the words shaking with each pump of his fist as he tries to stimulate the whole length of his cock without pulling it out. 
It’s a tight fit in his pants right now, but he isn’t going to show you a damn thing. 
You blink up at him, your eyes shining and bright at the fact that you’re fine not seeing it. You seem totally satisfied just watching him pleasure himself. 
Oh god, you’re fucking perfect. 
Even more perfect when you do remove your shirt, tits sitting nice and naked for him to stare at harder. Big. Plush. Prettier than the ones that are drawn to perfection by horny men on his screen just to the side of him. Prettier than your sister’s, even. 
“Ah, yeah.” He comments, hand pumping faster, cock leaking more. “Just sit right there and look pretty for me.”
And, you do. Hands now pressed into the carpet beneath you, gripping the texture much like you did your shirt just to press your tits together for him. Just so he wants you right now, even if he won’t ten minutes from now. 
He really does just watch you too. The image of you alone like this seemingly just enough to get him there when you notice his head slam back against the headrest of his chair again.
Bottom lip bitten, eyebrows raised, a held breath, and then he’s releasing that same breath along with his cum. All into his hand and against his pants as he pumps harder through the sensitivity of his orgasm. 
Eyes falling back to you, darker this time, he smirks as he slides his hand from his pants, careful not to lose any of that thick, milky, cum, and tipping his fingers at you. 
“Ahh-” He opens his mouth, speaking to you as if he’s feeding you a snack, and for some reason, you mimic it.
Your mouth opens as you lean forward and he slips his fingers in, relishing in the feeling of your frantic tongue licking up the taste of him.
So desperate, god, you want it so bad and he can see it.
He can feel it. 
And by the time you’ve licked his fingers clean, eyes tearing up because you know he’s about to mock you for how much you loved the taste of it, he pulls his hand back and says nothing.
He doesn’t even smile at you when he stands up, staring down at you like he owns you. 
You’re just sitting on the floor shirtless, avoiding his eye contact and preparing for whatever fucked up thing he wants to say about it, salty sweet remnants of his flavor in your mouth, and near tears in your eyes. 
“You really did that.”  He says before stepping to the side of you and heading for the door. “Swallowed all of it too.”
You did, and of course you’re ashamed despite sitting here wet and aching. You nod as you stare at the floor in shame, hands clasped in your lap.
“Good girl.” He breathes out to you before leaving for the bathroom, not another word muttered to you.
And as Heeseung stands looking at himself in the mirror, chest heaving as he reels from what just took place, he smiles. God, the horror you must feel right now. If you knew how much he liked this and how willing you were to take what you can get, you’d probably be the happiest girl alive. 
You’re so willing to feel ashamed, so willing to be shamed, just to look at him? Just to see him do this? Just to suck all of his cum off of his fingers? 
You’re fucking crazy. 
If you knew how he silently jerked off, breathing in that pillow you had against your pussy, you’d probably orgasm on the spot. If you fucking knew how he stole your panties the very day you moved in, you’d probably give him the ones you’re wearing now just to please him. 
Ah, so perfect. It’s only a matter of time now.
Only a matter of time before he wins and shuts his friends up for fucking good, because honestly, it’s getting old now to hear his friends pretend they have a shot at this with you.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Living with your sister became something you never meant for it to be. You’re not living with her, you’re living with fucking guilt, and confusion, and insatiable lust for the man she’s supposed to be pleasing every night. 
In fact, the amount you see her is far less than you originally thought. She works so much, and when she’s not working overtime just to come home and love on her asshole of a boyfriend, and tell you sweet goodnights like you didn’t eat his cum off his fingers, she’s sleeping away the exhaustion of being the only good person in this house. 
Unfortunately for her though, you don’t care.
You appreciate the freedom she’s given to you on a silver platter, with a nice new bedroom suite and good food in the fridge, but you know she didn’t bring you here with the intention of giving you this much freedom.
She gave you the ability to fuck and be fucked whenever and where ever you want, but the choice wasn’t meant to be Heeseung. With his ever changing moods, annoying gamer rage, and disconcerting need to flirt and shame you. 
You can’t believe you’re sitting here across from her before yet another one of her shifts, drinking the same juice, eating the same breakfast, pretending like you haven’t tasted the same cum she has. 
You can’t believe that while growing up, you always shared her stuff against her will. She hated finding you wearing one of her favorite tops, or her new pairs of shoes. She would get so mad and all you can think now is that, surely she would kill you if she found out what else you’ve used behind her back.
And when you watch Heeseung kiss her goodbye, he seems all too entertained with the situation. Watching you pretend like you don’t want him, watching your sister be blissfully unaware of who his dick twitches for.
  Watching, watching, watching. 
Staring, really, at you through the kiss. Up until she leaves for the day and you’re left staring back at him. Heeseung lends you a small wave with an uncaring face, wiggling the same fingers he fucked your mouth with in your face, almost seeming like he’s attempting to lure you to open those same lips again for him.
Almost as if to remind you that you’re pathetic. 
And goddammit. You fucking are.
That’s why, of course, you’ve found yourself time and time again in these same text messages. Fully guilty of leading these guys on but not nearly as guilty as you feel each time you show how bad you need it to the one man who doesn’t deserve it. 
Jay, if he could, would probably fuck you right on the doorstep by this point with the amount of nudes, phone calls, and blatant shows of sexual interest. You can sense how annoyed he is with cumming all by himself using your photos, but like, that’s very attractive of him to wait.
Sunghoon? So frustrated with you for never following up with him, but entirely willing to fuck you with his dirty words and images of what he’d love to do if you’d just get the fuck out of the house for a day.
And Jake, ah, Jake. The cutest. One you’d take all of this frustration out on, the one who would probably apologize to you for everything bad that’s ever happened to you mid-orgasm solely because he wouldn’t know what else to say or do when he’s feeling so good.
Sexting any of them, or all of them, is really your only relief from the man who looms around this house. But at this point, even that is doing nothing for you.
Even as you read Jay’s texts, knowing he’s actively playing video games at the same time and not jerking off like he claims. 
Jay: take a new one, i want more material 
You: you’re not even touching yourself, you know I can hear heeseung yell at you right?
Jay: what? you think I can’t multitask? 
You: is that why he’s yelling then? 
Jay: one handing it and still got more kills than him, yea
God, he’s too confident while being such a fucking loser, but yeah, you’ll send him a new picture. You’ll go ahead and send it to Jake too. And Sunghoon, of course.
Then you pause with your fingers on the screen, zooming in on your body and checking it. Only half wondering what would happen if you took a pussy picture. Only half thinking of sending it to Heeseung. Not the other three, just him.
Half wondering turns to full wondering, as you listen to him yell something about Jay going down again mid match, proving that he probably was, in fact, fucking his fist mid-game and absolutely not getting more kills.
Heeseung’s voice sounds so full of anger. So loud, cracking in pitch even. It’s hard to imagine someone sounding so stupid being able to act in a way that’s made you feel so lost and ashamed of wanting him. 
Yet, he did. And that’s why you decide right at this moment, you’ll always give in to his flirting even while knowing he’ll mock you and make fun of you for it. You’ve already dealt with it to the point that you’re used to it. At least you still get something out of it, right? 
At least, maybe, he’ll give you something else to feel ashamed of today, right? 
And as you take that photo, lying back on your bed, shifting your panties to the side and spreading your lips open for the camera, you snap a photo of your hole for him. Right there, already wet just imagining him thinking you’re pathetic for doing this. 
At this point, you’re not feeling too ashamed of it right now. After all, he jerked off looking at you like there wasn’t at least three holes being fucked and filled on the screen behind him before. So…
You send the photo to him, ignoring the displayed message from Jay stating, “you only sent this one to me, right?” 
And then you wait. 
And you wait.
And wait.
You can still hear Heeseung yelling his gaming talk, but you watch his text messages like a hawk. Feeling nervous, terrified, embarrassed, shamed, turned on, curious, wet.
Each time he’s silent, you stare at the messages, up until you notice that he’s opened it. 
He saw it.
You wait for footsteps, you wait to hear him tell his friends that he’ll be back. You wait for him to stomp in here and call you gross. 
And you wait more.
And more. 
Up until you can’t wait any longer and you find yourself shifting up and off of your bed, leaving your phone behind as you make your way to the office. He’s facing away from you as usual, the character on screen on a swivel as the scope of the gun searches for a head to shoot, and then– his phone.
Right there beside him, open, the image pulled up. 
“What are you trying to do?” He says, but you can’t tell if it’s for you or his friends. 
You stand there, pussy looking much the same as it was in that photo, except now with your shorts back on you, and panties back in place. 
“Trying to fuck me over right now?” He continues when a kill screen shows up and he’s got a few seconds to lift his hand from the mouse. Not even looking at you, he beckons you with two fingers and pushes his chair back just slightly.
By the time you get up beside him, he puts his fingers over his mouth, glancing up at you, then down at his phone and tapping it. Immediately after tapping, he points to the floor in front of him, scooting back more to make room for you.
The silent conversation is loud as he narrows his eyes at you when you sink to your knees on the floor in front of him. You crawl under the desk, legs quivering at the idea that he’s absolutely ignoring you, but also inviting you. 
As if he’s feeding you what you want. As if he doesn’t need this too. 
And maybe he doesn’t, you think, as you carefully reach forward to his knees, feeling him push his chair in and trap you under the desk. He doesn’t look hard, proving that he’s simply allowing you to quench your thirst for his cum, surely. 
Allowing you to be pathetic. 
Allowing you to see it. 
And finally, you do. He’s even polite enough to lift his ass up a bit just to let you pull his sweats down to get it out. Slowly growing at the feeling of your breath against it. 
You breathe deeply before you press your lips against it instantly, darting your tongue out curiously and closing your eyes to relish in the first taste of his skin. It’s a clean taste, and despite him not being fully hard for this just yet, it only drives you to do better, to do more, until he actually wants you to do this for him, not just for you. 
You could argue that it seemed much bigger when he was jerking it off in front of you, then again, he’s still not fully hard yet. 
It actually hurts your feelings that you’re the one needing to get him horny right now. After all, you are clearly hungry for it, not him.
And you take him into your mouth again, and again, feeling him stiffen by the second. Still, his focus isn’t on you or what you’re doing down here. 
Until it is, anyway. 
By this point, you’re actually struggling to take him into your mouth, and you can argue he’s only at half-girth as you try. The top of your head bumps his desk every few seconds, which forces you to keep him in your mouth. 
Kind of terrifying actually, to have put something in your mouth so readily only to regret the fact that his cock is essentially locked in by the small pace you’re trapped in, and it’s only swelling up more and more by the second. 
Hardening until your throat is constricting around it, forcing you to gag and search for breath.
It’s hard to breathe as you cough and drool around him, frantically trying to pull off of him and hitting your head hard against the desk when you do.
He fucking chuckles at it before you feel his hand slip under the desk with you and grab his now fully hard cock. What does he do with it? He fucking slaps it straight across your face before forcing it right back between your lips. 
You hate to say how wet that made you, and you hate even more to say that you kind of like the feeling of your throat getting bruised. Willing yourself to gag around him again, trying to twitch your tongue against the weight of his far too big length in your mouth. 
You don’t want him to laugh though, you want him to fucking moan. All for his friends to hear. After all, it’s the first time you’re going down on him and it’ll probably be the last time too, right?
Not to mention, you’ve barely had experiencing sucking dick as it is, he should he fucking helping you get through this.
But he’s not. He’s just…playing his fucking game. Hell, the twitches of his length against your gag reflex is probably more for the kill he gets rather than the way your dripping spit all over and down his balls. 
This is embarrassing, and yet– you love it. You fucking adore it, with the way your clit aches just at the thought that he’s letting you put your mouth on him at all.
Maybe it really is for you, and not for him. 
“Ah, fuck.” Heeseung groans, probably more to his game than to you.
His hand shoots under the table, right to the top of your head as his other balances himself on the seat of his chair. There, he holds your head down on him and angles his hips just slightly to fuck up. Gaging you repeatedly, holding back his own moans at the way you’re just going to let him use you like this.
And as quickly as it happened, that short grunt from him not going unnoticed, he’s drawing his hands back above his desk, relaxing his body, and giving back the control. 
Already, you can hear his fingers against the keyboard again.
“Back in the game, Jay, to the right!” He shouts, showing you that he absolutely just fucked your face because he got fucking downed in the game. 
And you continue, trying to give him that same feeling that he forced on you just now, and never quite getting the same force behind your lips or tongue for him. His cock is throbbing though, choking you with each dribble and spurt of precum, up until he’s pulling the same trick.
Fucking up, holding your throat down on him, for just a bit until he’s back in the game and playing.
This happens for what feels like forever. To the point that surely, you’re drenching the carpet under you, and you’re starting to feel insecure in the fact that he hasn’t cum yet. Are you really just…bad at giving head?
Heeseung’s legs shift as you continue, slowing your pace and trying to rub your jaw through it with your free hand that’s not gripping the fabric of his lowered sweats. You do this up until his cock is suddenly sliding further and further out of your throat when he rolls his chair back. 
Ah. 
Oh.
Oh, my god. You think, getting the first glimpse of his face since you started. Blown out pupils staring down under his desk, hair a mess, mic right up against his smirking lips. 
He looks…like he enjoyed it? Maybe? Are you getting ahead of yourself?
“You want more?” He asks, straight into the mic and confusing his friends. “I can see how much you want it, baby, come on. I’ll give it to you.”
You stare up at him, pretending that when you crawl out from under the desk and try to stand, you can’t hear the way he turns up the volume of his friends responding in confusion. 
“What the fuck are you talking about?” You hear the familiar voice of Sunghoon. “If you’re gonna fuck your girlfriend, at least mute yourself, dick.” 
You nervously glance to his game that’s still full screened. You knew he was gaming with his friends since this morning, but for him to talk to you like this as if they can’t hear him? 
“They’ll want to hear you.” He comments now, alerting his friends that he’s obviously not talking to them. “Trust me, they don’t fucking shut up about you.” 
That’s when they realize.
“No fucking way.” Jake blurts. “There’s no way.”
Jay remains silent, staring at his unanswered text message before minimizing his game and dropping his mouth in surprise.
“Come on then, you already let me fuck that pretty mouth, might as well, right?” He says to you again, this time lifting his hips and tapping his desk. “Bend over for me.” 
What you think is just an unmuted mic, unfortunately, is much, much more than that. You see, Heeseung likes to stream to his friends, back and behind his full screened game was the image of him suffering through your need to deep throat him half to death.
He remained calm, at first not exactly wanting his friends to know. Not wanting them to see you like this, and most certainly not wanting them to have any images of you to get off to. But now? Oh, to win their own game in front of them? 
‘Fuck, look at that.” He says, watching you take the spot in front of him and bend over his desk, keyboard buttons pressing in and glitching the screen out momentarily due to your tits lying against it. “Now look up.” He instructs. 
“No. Fucking. Way.” Jake blurts again once he minimized his game and instantly saw you on the camera, looking so out of it, so unaware. “Sunghoon, are you seeing this?”
Jay was still watching with his mouth agape, cock leaking as it always does for you except now?  It’s the fact that Heeseung is really just gonna do something so awful to your sister? He’s really  going to fuck you right here, right now? With proof?!
“Heeseung, don’t.” Sunghoon warns, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen in front of him. 
“Don’t what? Sunghoon?” Heeseung smiles as he reaches his hands around the front of you, pulling you back by groping both of your tits. “Fuck your girl in front of you?”
You just listen, shocked that Sunghoon is actually asking Heeseung to stop. Shocked that they apparently have beef or something, over you? Surely not. 
“No–” Sunghoon chokes back. “Don’t turn off the camera.” 
“Camera?!” You panic, trying to break free of his grip on your chest, but he holds you there, pressing you closer with your back to his chest, his cock throbbing under your thigh. 
“What? Now you have an issue with cameras?” Heeseung seethes sarcastic words into your hair, squeezing your tits harder now. “Relax, baby, I know they’ve already seen you like this.” 
“Right?” Heeseung now directs his attention to the screen, lunging forward to quickly minimize the full-screened game, getting a good look at his friends and you in the camera against him. 
The image is wildly attractive to him for many reasons. For one, he can see himself on the screen with his point of desire sitting right here on his lap. Secondly, his friends are awestruck by what he gets to have right now. Shamelessly watching, biting their words back, taking in deep breaths. And lastly, he can tell that everyone on camera right now either wants to be him or be fucked by him.
What’s not to love about this? 
And Heeseung is quick when he flashes his eyes away from each of his friends, straight to you in the camera, watching you avoid looking at the screen. He moves one hand from your chest, pushes his chair back, and immediately cups between your legs. 
“You show them this too, or was that just for me?”
You shake your head at Heeseung, reeling with embarrassment and arousal as you try to squeeze your legs closed around his hand. You feel choked up, throat sore, legs buckled, clit throbbing for him to dig his palm against it.
“Mm, you see that Jay?” Heeseung moves his eyes to his friend on screen. “Couldn’t even get her to show her pussy for you?” 
Jay appears entirely tuned into the situation, eyebrows sitting furrowed and focused on you. God, if only he focused that much in game, Heeseung thinks he could probably out rank him if he wanted to. 
“Jake?” Heeseung trails to his other friend, making sure each and every one of them hears and sees exactly what he’s doing. 
Your eyes follow the names Heeseung calls out. Shyly, somewhat dazed. Tearing your eyes from Jay was already hard enough as is. After all, seeing his blatant attraction to you right there, in front of everyone? Maybe you should have let him hit, even just once because damn. It’s almost pitiful, that look in his eye as he watches you. 
Jake on the other hand? You can tell he lets his hair fall partly in front of his eyes but he smiles to himself while watching. Something about seeing him like this makes you feel like you’ve just experienced extreme whiplash. It embarrasses you more knowing that you figured Jake was too inexperienced to know how to fuck a girl. He was too sweet. 
Too soft.
Too different from his friends.
As you look at him now though, you realize he isn’t different at all. In fact, he might have been more full of shit than any of the others as you stare at his wicked eyes and nod of approval at Heeseung. 
Hell, he’s even the one who mutters out a small, “Show us her tits.” 
The only reason Heeseung does as Jake asked is because he can’t help but relish in the look on their faces of seeing what they could have had, but now never will. To see them lose. To witness him win. 
They’re pathetic. Truly, when he drags your shirt up your belly and over your chest. Already braless, of course. And honestly, you’re shocked that they all react this way like you didn’t just send them tit pics but– 
This is more embarrassing somehow. Four pairs of eyes are on you and only one pair of hands. You want all of their hands. 
“I fucking knew you’d let me do this.” Heeseung chuckles against your ear, cupping his hands under your tits and presenting them to his friends. Bouncing them, rubbing them, pulling on both nipples before releasing them and letting your tits fall into their natural position. “Knew you were a slut the moment I saw the kind of panties you had hidden in that suitcase of yours.” 
You glance away from the camera now, knowing Heeseung is right with his words. 
“You should be fighting me, not dripping that pretty pussy all over me. Am I wrong?” 
You should be fighting. You shouldn’t be okay with this moment being broadcasted to three different people that you’ve been leading on. And yeah, you should hate him for all of the confusion and mental anguish he put you through. 
Yet, the arousal you have for him outweighs all of it. The arousal you have for this situation in general outweighs any shame you could feel, or the shame that comes after it. 
Being wanted like this by four men who you find incredibly attractive? 
“What more could a girl want?” You murmur in a hushed tone, rolling your hips just slightly on his lap, letting him feel the warmth of you seep into his sweatpants. His cock still hard and raging from your previous actions of choking on him.
Those words shock him as his eyes glance to the screen, noting how you’re writhing your body on him, totally shameless, totally fucking perfect with your tits out and on display, only pushing for more. It’s the fact that he fucking forgot he had his head set on for a moment and didn’t even catch that you whispered that shit straight into his mic. 
He only realized it when he saw three faces on screen drop to a slack jawed expression and Sunghoon immediately leaned forward with a groan of “spread her legs.” 
On any other day, for Heeseung, Jake, or Jay, seeing Sunghoon clearly push his pants down his thighs off camera would make them recoil and make fun of him. But they’re not right now, because the focus isn’t on any of the cocks being openly hard in this shared online space. 
The focus is on you, and the way Heeseung absolutely spreads your legs and pushes your knees up by the thighs so that the flat of your feet are resting on his knees. There, he drops his hands from your tits and reaches around you, rubbing the line of your shorts on the insides of your thighs just enough that glimpses of your panties flash every few seconds. 
From back here, the camera offers Heeseung the same view but it hits him differently because he’s the one doing it. He’s got his head resting on your shoulder as he watches, noting how you lean your head back against his own shoulder and breathe through his guided touches. 
“Look at yourself.” He turns his head to whisper right against your cheek. “You’d let us all take a turn, hm? Wouldn’t even know which dick is in you.”
Your eyes open in a roll, landing your gaze on the screen and feeling flushed at the image. You don’t care how embarrassing or pathetic you are for this. No, because, look at them. Everyone wants you to act like this. 
“Probably wouldn’t even care either, as long as you’re being fucked. Yeah, that’s right.” 
Nodding in a daze against him, you roll your hips harder, trying to bump his hand against your pussy, trying to prove to everyone that you have three holes and two hands for a reason. 
You don’t flinch when he slides his hands up the leg of your shorts either, pulling them to the side to reveal how wet you are to everyone. Listening to your body and the way it sings to him, brushing his knuckles against the swell of your clit, tapping the space where your hole sits and clenches to be seen. 
“Ah, fuck.” Jay finally lets out in a shaky breath, hand clearly still working himself because, well, he was half hard before you made an even appearance on camera. “It looks like she pissed herself–” 
Heeseung laughs as he drags his eyes to the image between your legs, so wet, entirely drenched through your nearly see-through panties at this point. Jay is right, it does look like you’ve pissed yourself, which only makes his cock throb more. That you’re so wet for him? So fucking drenched? God, he doesn’t even need lube with you.
You slick up so nice for him, it’s actually becoming painful not to test the stickiness, the slide it offers, the warmth. With this much pouring out of you, like you’ve already squirted, surely you could take all of him.
In an instant he pushes you from his lap, making you feel dizzy and light headed because suddenly you’re on your feet in front of him again. He gives you no time to balance yourself when he’s pulling your shirt up and off of you in a huffed out sigh, holding you in place by your tits to keep you from toppling over and breaking his monitor.  
And when you steady out, his hands run straight down, shoving your shorts and panties down in one go before immediately pulling you back to his lap, holding your arms behind you, and spreading his own legs to force yours open for his friends.
“Take a good, long, look.” Heeseung directs towards his friends, sliding his hand in front of you and using two fingers to present your hole to them. “If you think she’s pretty, let her know now.” 
It’s the way Heeseung moves his hand from behind you just to set his headset on your head now, quickly pinning your arms in place again and allowing you to listen to his friends do just that. 
Immediately, pussy spread and unintentionally clenching in the camera, one of your senses is enveloped with the sound of Jay’s palm shamelessly dragging up and down his hidden cock. Then, the sound of Jake and his deep inhales paired with slight cracked whines, just as shameless, doing much the same.
Then, Sunghoon.
Fucking Sunghoon. Barely moving, but more willing to talk to you with that headset on your head. 
“This why you didn’t come over?” He asks you blatantly in a breathy voice, glaring at the fingers of Heeseung holding your cunt open for him. “That could be me right now, but you’re really just going to fuck him? Of all people?”
You groan, lifting your head to give a proud nod and accidentally bumping Heeseung in the chin with the action. 
The bump forces him to bite his tongue, a metallic taste of the small amount of blood flooding his mouth mixed with saliva when he dips his head, grabbing you by the hair and forcing your mouth to his.
You can taste the blood too, when he presses his wet tongue past your lips without so much as swallowing the mixture first. Practically drooling and spitting into your mouth through the rough kiss. It feels like your drowning, kissing him back like you’ve always wanted to, tasting him in a new way now and moaning into it. 
Like a slut, really. Just fucking moaning. And he only forces more out of you too, as you feel him adjust his hands, holding you here on his lap, rough tongue bleeding against yours, sliding two fingers into you with one push. 
God, finally. Fucking, finally. 
Your mouth falls open in a sharp inhale of feeling his fingers, his lips turning to a smirk at hearing one of his friends audibly moan at the image on screen for them. You just showed how much of his saliva you were savoring, diluted red in the drool dripping down your chin through your moan.
You’re dirty, all four of them can see that much. But only Heeseung gets to feel it. 
His cock throbs at the image when he strains his eyes to the screen, plunging his fingers in, out, in, out, until he pulls them from you entirely, thrusting them into your open mouth instead. 
You squeal at the intrusion of his sudden fingers against your tongue, offering a third taste in your mouth. Yourself. 
“Mhm,” Heeseung encourages you. “Suck it up like you did for me the other day.”
You hear Jake gasp at the idea that you’ve already done this for Heeseung before, probably leading him to believe that Heeseung has also probably already fucked you.
And hell, with how it’s looking, none of them would be shocked if that were the case. 
“You’ve been doing this while talking to us?” Jake tries to confirm with you through a breathed sigh, groaning and unintentionally showing that he…wouldn’t mind. 
“God, I don’t even want to fuck you now.” Sunghoon on the other hand, isn’t so willing and lies, absolutely wanting to be the person fucking your lips with his fingers. “After Heeseung? Disgusting.” 
Oh, they think he’s fucked you already? 
You shoot your eyes open, trying to shake your head in a “no” at them but still suckling around his fingers. 
“Goddamn,” Heeseung grunts, rutting up against your back, letting his cock leave leaking little spots of his precum against your lower back. “Your sister would never act like this.” 
“You should be ashamed, but you love it.” He continues, talking, talking, talking. Shoving his fingers deeper, deeper, deeper. “Work that tongue like a good girl.” He continues to whisper from behind you before– 
You’re gagging. Feeling his fingers reach deep into your throat and press your tongue down to the point you’re forced to open your mouth wide. Exposing not only your finger-fucked pussy to his friends, but now your open and constricting throat. 
Sunghoon immediately regrets his insult at you, seeing how wide and open your throat can be. Gagging openly with very little sound as Heeseung compresses your tongue through it. 
You’re drooling again, eyes blinking up at the ceiling as if you could possibly find a way to drink away your tears. 
That’s about as much as Jay can take, gripping the base of his weeping length, willing it to stop threatening him with an orgasm before Heeseung really gets you looking pretty. He chokes up through the mic, and the sound runs straight through your body.
There, he watches you moan through an open and dry mouth, throat muscles tensing just to get the sound out. He grips harder, needing to pull his eyes away but struggling so hard to fucking do. 
“Shit, baby. Stop.” Jay calls through the microphone, forcing his friends eyes on him, yours included, as all of you watch him vibrate in his seat in an attempt not to cum. “Stop moaning.”
Heeseung hears him say it, and intentionally gags you again instead. Bumping his fingers at the back of your throat with a smile on his face. Glancing between all of his friends, seeing how pathetic they are for what he does to you. 
The fact that they’re sticking around at all? Both great and fucking embarrassing. Even more embarrassing than you. 
Then Heeseung focuses back on you, tears running down your pretty cheeks, mouth agape, throat struggling to adjust still to his fingers despite taking his cock like that’s the only shape or size it wanted. 
Ah, your body is so pathetically telling, and he grants you the release of another gag by sliding his fingers out of your mouth and straight back to your warm, pulsing, hole.
Right back in, one hole filled at all times it seems, as he feeds into the whiplash he’s able to give you. You didn’t even notice how he shoves you off of his lap until you can no longer see the screen in front of you and are face to face with his keyboard. No frustrated face of Jay, no forced calm and collected expression from Sunghoon, no blatantly bitten lips of Jake. 
No, only the feeling of Heeseung chasing your hole with his fingers, your hips running from the touch due to sensitivity and buckled knees. He holds you there against his desk, standing behind you and pressing his cock between your ass cheeks. Fingers roughly rubbing your clit, sliding down to fuck into you, then out again to rub you harder.
His friends watch you try to run your lower half away from him, but his eyes stay glued to the camera, as if he’s staring into the soul of his friends. 
“You guys wanna see me fuck her?” He comments in a sly tone, cock grinding against you. “I can fuck her.” 
“Ah, Hee–” You groan as a response, listening to the slapping of palms against cocks only grow more furious and finally relaxing your body to now search for his fingers, just to push yourself back on them. “Please.”
He snickers from behind you, grabbing a hand full of hair at the back of your head as he rips his fingers from your needy hole, wiping them along your cheek as he forces you to look at him. 
“Again.” He demands, now pinching your cheeks with one hand, arching your back more by the pull of your hair. “Say, “Please, Seungie, fuck me.” He whispers into your mouth, loud enough for the mic to pick up the way you swallow around his words. 
“Say, “Please, Hee, give it to me.” He continues, making his voice higher pitched as if to mock your moans.
Sunghoon watches and listens in shock, never once wanting to know that this is how his own friend fucks someone, but goddamn. It’s like he’s just found the video on page 86 of pornhub that hit just right as he watches. Fucking up and into his fist like his life depends on it, waiting, waiting, waiting, for you to moan out just like Heeseung is telling you to. 
And it’s the fact that you fucking do, Heeseung watching the way Jake presses his entire body into his chair, staring down at himself with a fast moving palm, so fast that he can see his friend lose himself to the pleasure.
Jay, near tears in his eyes as he watches, probably moaning in your ear like a mad man right now. 
You fucking say it.
You say both, moaning in a choked gasp when you feel him stick his tip in you at it. 
“Please–” You hiccup as you try to repeat the words again and again for him. “God, yes.” You rasp out in a deeper tone at the feeling of him slide in. 
And he keeps sliding in, trying to keep himself from rolling his eyes back when he bottoms out and feels your cunt clench him as if you’ll never let it go.
And then, one quick thrust, holding your hair in his hands, arching you harder, his other hand reaching for yours and holding them behind your back, he fucks forward. 
Your tits bounce with the movement, neck strained to keep your eye on his face as you try to adjust to the full size of him entering you.
“She just takes it.” Heeseung grunts with a choked breath. “Shit, so goddamn tight.” He murmers again, nearly unable to stand on his own two feet how tight you are.
He forces you to look at him through it, squeezing your hands together so tightly through it that you can barely focus on the pain of your positioned body against the feeling of his cock splitting you open with each hard thrust. 
And then, you let out the most filthy, wet, pornographic cry. 
Heeseung then brings his attention to his monitor one last time, watching the pathetic mess of people in front of him getting off entirely on his cock driving into you. 
“I win.” He says with one pointed thrust, keeping his hips pressed against your ass and only pressing in harder, trying to reach another inch in, trying to break past whatever wall inside of you keeps him from impaling you entirely on him. 
All three friends burst into a feeling of realization, Jake already mid orgasm at the sound of that moan you just cried out– 
Then theres….nothin but the feeling of Heeseung releasing your hands and allowing you to grip his desk through this deep hold of his length inside of you. 
Suddenly, no sound through the headset, the light of the monitor in your peripheral vision goes off, and Heeseung is breaking his demeanor just to moan out in full again. 
“Drove them crazy,” He chuckles through a wet groan, now snapping his hips back and leaning forward just to push back into you, deeper, deeper, until his desk ruts against the wall with the tight hold on you. “Driving me fucking crazy.” He whispers, holding his open lips right against your neck when he hunches over in this paused thrust. 
“You looked so good.” He says again, suddenly praising you, suddenly able to relish in the pleasure he’s giving you rather than pretending it does nothing for him. 
You blink away tears, feeling your twisted and turned body, still trying to look at him through this even if he’s released your hands. 
He can see that look of realization on your face and smiles at that too before shooting his hands to your middle and forcing you back and against him. 
He keeps his dick in you, too obsessed with the drag your walls offer to him, and holds you against him just to shift to the side and press you back on the misplaced couch in the room. Man cave stuff, and alla that. 
You watch him guide you face first into the cushions before he is grabbing your hands again, holding them right back in pace behind your back with one hand, and the other pushing your face even further into the pillows. 
“You have no fucking idea, do you?” He grunts, slamming into you again, eyes glued to the way your body strains to accommodate the position he wants you in. “How much better you are?”
Oh. Really now? 
You smile through suffocated breaths, the fabric of the couch invading the taste of your own breath and forcing you to love it just as much. You bite down, listening to his spilling words. 
“Begging me like that for my friends to hear, like you didn’t know I wanted to do this?” He continues, burying himself deep again and holding it there again. “Fucking my pillow instead of me.” 
He seems a little more angry now. 
“Turning my friends on when you wanted me,” He grabs your hair again, pulling you back into that same painful arch and forcing you to stare up at the wall. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart, I would’ve given it to you every time.” 
The reality that this is not your boyfriend is so far from you right now. The fact that your sister is working away right now to pay the light bill, gonna come home later and share a bed with this man? You’re not even jealous. 
In fact? You’re on top of the world listening to him want you more. 
And at this point, Heeseung can tell you’re smiling, looking blankly at the wall and totally lost from this world. This is exactly what he wanted. 
Such a pretty little sister, winning him over the bitch that won’t even choke on his cock? It could have been so much easier for you. But this was fun for him, watching you want him and know you couldn’t have him.
Despite him proving that you could have had him any day of the week.
“All you had to do was ask.” He repeats into your ear, now slowing his pace until he pulls out. 
He takes a step back, gazing at the way your open pussy still clenches for him, the way your ass shakes slightly with your legs. 
“Aww,” He coos, blinking at you from behind and reaching forward to flip you over. “You wanted it so bad too, can’t believe you waited.��� 
You see him now, fully in person rather than through the image on his monitor. His skin looks so much more full of life, cheeks tinted and hair more fucked up than you’ve ever seen it. Cock huge, weighed against his leg. 
You’re shocked you took all of it like that previously, unable to relish in the pain of it because your senses were overloaded with moans and his own boasting. 
“Your sister doesn’t have to know.” He says now, eyes trailing your body. 
“Ah–” You wince when he licks his fingers and lowers his hand to your clit, one hand spreading your legs out now that he’s got you on your back. “I really didn’t know.”
Heeseung chuckles, finding you entirely too cute and endearing as you look up at him with those fucked out lips trying not to quiver at your sensitivity. 
“You were too dumb to take a hint.” He leans forward, now, using his hand to lift your leg up to your chest, rubbing his cock right against your hole as he pulls his other hand up now, propping up your other leg. “Too stubborn to realize.” 
You nod in a slightly broken way, unsure of if you were the one putting yourself through torture, or if you really were too dumb to notice he was trying to get you to go insane for him. 
He wanted you to jump on him. He wanted you to take it like this. 
“And you won’t tell her?” You whisper now, losing the ability to think much more when he grinds himself down, keeping eye contact with you, that same smirk you both hated and loved. 
He shakes his head at you, almost sweetly when he adjusts his cock to slide in again, knocking the breath out of you with a choked moan. 
“She won’t find out if you can be quiet when she’s home.”
Oh fucking no. He wants to…continue this? This isn’t a one time thing? He’s going to try while she’s home? While she’s gone?  Arguably, you’re fucking glad.
“When she’s–?” You try to question, stopping short when he bottoms out in a groan, breathing in through his nose before lending you a tight, short thrust. 
“Mm, yeah, I’m gonna be in you every day.” He moans, thinking about the image alone of sneaking into your room while his girlfriend is fast asleep.
Fucking you in his bed. In your bed. On the shared couch. Everywhere. Everyday. 
“God, she’d hate us both.” He chuckles through the same moans he can’t stop from spilling out of his throat. “Finding out I’m so deep, so raw like this.”
Fuck. Right.
“Wait–” You come to realization, clenching from panic at the fact that a condom didn’t even come to mind. “Fuck, Hee, wait!” 
He only presses harder now, smiling at how you’ve finally managed to come to your senses. Fucking you faster when you try to wiggle your hips away. Fucking you harder, pressing his entire body weight against the back of your thighs just to force you to stay in one place. Pussy open and spread out, clenching his cock so nicely. 
“Gonna fuck you full,” He kisses your forehead with the horrifying words. “You’ll do it for me right? She won’t let me.”
Those words ring in your head. If she won’t let him, you sure as fuck will. You can deal with the consequences later. You no longer fight to pretend he’s not ramming your g-spot, forcing your voice to shake through a cry of his name. 
“I’m not–” You choke out through cries, feeling your body tense up. “I’m not on birth co-”
“Fuckkkk, yes.” He rolls his eyes back at your half spoken words, losing it at the thought of dripping his seed into you and knowing he’s sterile enough to scare you both for good. “Take it,” He thumps his cock as far into you as he can, willing you to nod your head, willing you to love this as much as he does. 
It’s the fact that you’re not trying to wiggle away now, he can feel your hole pulse at hit words, the way you want to be better than your sister, the way you’d truly let him. 
Even more the fact that you’re not the one he should be shooting his seed into. It should be your sister, the woman who wants to marry him, the woman who said she simply wasn’t ready to bear his child.  Not that you want to either, but goddamn do you want to be fucked full of the possibly, you say it yourself in a harsh grip around his neck, tugging at the long strands of hair at the nape of his neck. 
“Do it.” You whisper through hiccuped moans, his thrusts scooting you up and down on the couch at the sheer force of them. 
“Yeah,” He nods his head, pressing harder against your legs as he chases the very high you’re asking him to give to you. “You want it?” He encourages you to keep telling him. He needs you to tell him. 
You nod frantically, feeling your body tense up again, trying to reach your hands between your legs to rub your swollen clit. Shockingly, that simply touch of your fingers sends you straight over edge, cumming so hard around his deep thrusts that you can barely hear him praise you through it with drawn out groans of “Ah, you’re squeezing me–” and “Just like that, I’m–”
His voice is clear though, when his hips stutter in place and he’s holding himself still. You can feel the pulse of him releasing into you through the last moments of your orgasm. 
“Take it.” He moans. “Take all of it.” He continues, pulling out half way so that his cum drenches every part of your hole. 
There, he uses his hand to milk the rest of it out of him, eyes squeezed shut as he feels the sensation of your own orgasm only slick up the inside of you more than he is, and then– he rams back in. Pushing his cum deep. So deep that you moan at the feeling, knowing the mess is dripping down your ass, and being shoved so far against your cervix that– Well. You panic. 
Arguably, Heeseung should panic too, but he doesn't as he heaves in a deep and relieved sigh, sliding out of you once and for all. 
He just looks at you, a mess on the office couch, pussy pumped full of him, swollen, still pulsing. 
“Can I be honest?” He breathes out after running his hands through his sweaty hair, dropping them down with a slap to your now relaxed legs.
At your silence, he continues anyway. “You’ve never looked prettier than right now.” 
And, well. You realize that with those words alone, selfish and self absorbed as you relish in them, you decide you don’t care that he’s just fucked you raw without a care in the world that he just cheated on the supposed love of his life. You both have won in this situation, and pregnancy isn’t such a scare anyway when he walks away a mere minute later and comes back with a fucking Plan-B pill. 
You’re confused by it at first, popping it into your mouth and looking at him with raised brows. 
“Why do you just have these?” You ask, still catching your breath. 
“She takes one every time we have sex, even with a condom.” He rolls his eyes.  You smirk, noting how if there’s anything you do better than your sister…It’s fucking her boyfriend.
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lalal-99 · 2 months
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Kitty’s New Best Friend {l.f.}
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113 "Either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room." 133 "You're being shy now? Really?" 141 "How many times have you jerked off to me?"
Felix x afab!reader | trope: friends to lovers, roommates | wordcount: 2.4k
Synopsis: When your roommate comes home unexpectedly, he finds you in a compromising position on the living room couch, moaning his name. Fortunetly, he's had a hunch about your feelings for a while, and he's willing to help you out.
Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18
Smut Tags: Smut | Explicit Sexual Content | Porn with some Plot | Fluff and Smut | Mutual Pining | Semi-Public Masturbation | Oral Sex (reader rec.) | Teasing
Note: I wrote three different version of this over the past two years. This one was the best one, by a mile. Hope you enjoy. Please leave comments, if you want to encourage more content.
Again, thanks @jl-micasea-fics for letting me use your prompts. I know it's been two years, but still, credit where its due :)
Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness
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Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!
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He didn’t use to appear in your dirty dreams.
Only months ago, you didn’t need to put a face on the main character of your fantasies—the imagination itself enough to get you going.
That had certainly changed.
It could have been Felix sauntering your shared apartment without a shirt one too many times. It could have been the shoulder to cry on he had lent you after your ex. Hell, it could have even been as trivial as a kind smile for no apparent reason.
Your brain simply shut off and your kitty assumed control. Universally deciding that your roommate was a fitting image to get turned on to.
Now, his face made an appearance in every single one of your daydreams.
When Felix emerged from his room in nothing but a pair of loose hanging sweatpants, your mind went right back to it. It was ridiculous. You didn’t even listen to where he went off to, your fingers already running over his creamy skin in your mind. You felt like a teenager, arousal taking over you the second Felix left the apartment.
None of your other roommates were home which was fortunate. Sure, you could have gone to your bedroom to be safe. But how could you, when the heat reached you right there in the living room. Like it had happened in the shower a few days ago after Felix had sneaked in to get his lotion. You had told him you didn’t mind when in reality, you did. Just not in the way he might have thought.
That day and in your following fantasy, he hadn’t left, but instead joined you under the hot water.
Humming Felix’s name at the sound of your fingers running through your folds, you internally scolded yourself for thinking this way about him. A boy who was so innocently oblivious, he probably had no idea you even jerked off in the first place. Someone so sweet, he brought you candy when you were on your period, brewed you tea after a long day, or gave you massages when... Well, whenever you wanted one.
You were completely immersed in the scenario you had set up in your head, knot in your stomach tightening. So much so your brain took a second too long to recognise the familiar sound of his keys.
Things went very fast from there.
The door opened and Felix walked in to the sight of you. Rushing your hand out of your shorts, your neckline was red from the heat, your hair messier than when he had left. Mere minutes earlier.
“Felix? What the hell are you doing here?” you questioned, shock written on your features. “I thought you went out.”
“I—“ He scanned the situation and before you could stop him, he figured it out. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I went to get some snacks for the movie.”
Oh yes! The memory of your short conversation suddenly came back to you.
Felix had come out of his room, shirtless, recognising the movie playing on the TV in front of you. He had asked you to pause it, so you could watch it together once he came back from the store. Getting you snacks and a bottle of your favourite white, like the perfect roomie he was.
“Were you…” A smirk appeared on Felix’s face as his view wandered down your body to your pants. “Either I’m insane, or you were just masturbating in our living room.” Noticing your eyes shifting and your cheeks reddening in the light of the TV, he yelped. “Oh my God, you were masturbating, weren’t you?”
You struggled finding another excuse that could explain your hands down your pants. Not that it mattered, anyway. Nothing you said, no explanation you could have given, would get your roommate to believe he hadn’t just walked in on you.
Felix placed the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and strode over to the couch, sliding on next to you. The shit-eating grin on his face only heightened your embarrassment. Not so innocent after all, now that he held something over your head.
“Stop being so smug. It’s not like you don’t do it.” You scratched an invisible itch on your neck.
“But I don’t do it out here where everyone can walk in. Do you have no shame?” Felix was teasing you now, the previously cutesy behaviour shifting. You couldn’t quite pinpoint his demeanour, but it almost seemed seductive. Like, he was definitely flirting, and not in his usual, sweet way. If his next words were anything to go by, it felt even more so. “Or did you want me to walk in on you?”
You almost choked on your saliva. “What? No! Of course not.”
The redness on your face darkened further.
Why would he ever suggest that you had masturbated out in the living room on purpose? Unless… Maybe, subconsciously, you had done just that. Perhaps you wanted to make use of the possibility, him walking in on you. So he could finally help you scratch the itch himself. Not his imaginary self, but the real one, in all his glory. Could your brain have betrayed you like that, without you noticing?
You didn’t quite know what to think.
“It’s fine. I won’t tell anyone about this.” Somehow, that relieved you. Not like you had expected Felix to go around, gloating about it. It still relaxed you to hear it from the man himself. “I only have one question, then we can stop talking about it. Forever.”
Your jaw dropped at his words. So he was blackmailing you now, too? Felix, out of all people. Nice Felix, who never hurt a fly. Cute Felix, whose love language were hugs and cuddles. Smug Felix, who somehow had the upper hand right now.
Your kitty purred at his intrigue, surprising even yourself.
“How many times have you jerked off to me?”
You must have had a mini heart attack at that very second. Unfortunately, you didn’t land in heaven. If anything, this was hell.
“What?”
“You heard me,” Felix replied, bottom lip wandering between his teeth. “And I heard you, moaning my name before. So, how often do you think about me?”
“I don’t— I didn’t— I mean— What?” You were sweating now, unable to form simple sentences. And that was before his hand landed on your naked thigh, squeezing. That’s when you lost the ability to breathe, stomach tensing.
“You’re being shy now? Really?” As his fingers drew figure eights onto your skin, they wandered further up your leg until he reached the hem of your shorts. He played with the band, keeping his irises on you, and your kitty hissed. His proximity was a dangerous game. “What if I told you, I’ve been thinking about it, too?”
What. The. Fuck?
He leaned in, lips close enough to feel his breath on you, and you got dizzy. You didn’t remember drinking any alcohol, but you damn well felt like it. As though you had gotten intoxicated, high, and now you were left to deal with the aftermath.
“Been thinking about you so much. Taking you in your room. In the shower. On this very couch. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His fingers entered your pants, playing with the hem of your underwear. Your breath hitched when his hand cupped you, smirk so close to your face you could hear it. Felix clicked his tongue when he felt your wetness. “I knew it. Not so shy now, are we?”
And you weren’t. Shy, that was. Overwhelmed, sure. Embarrassed, yes. But not shy. Not when you detected the tent in his own sweatpants. Felix wanted this, just like you. Felix was your roommate, best friend and now, potential lover. If anything, you felt most comfortable around him.
The feeling heightened when he gave you a gentle push, urging you to lay back. Felix’s face remained so close to yours, eyes glued to each other as he situated himself above you. His fingers started teasing as he leaned down, faintly pressing his lips to your pulse point. Your eyes stood wide open, searching the ceiling for possible answers to the one question you had.
How the fuck had this happened?
Felix kissed down your body, through the valley of your chest and over your tank top. Right down to your shorts. He must have been able to smell you, but you didn’t care. It was Felix, after all, the boy straight out of your dreams.
“Y/N,” his soft voice called you to catch your attention. When you met his gaze, the world stopped for a moment. The lust had momentarily vanished from his irises and what overtook was care and love. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
“Don’t.” Your answer couldn’t have come faster, and you meant it. Under no circumstances did you want him to stop. Ever.
With that, the primate inside him gained back control, ridding you of your pants and underwear. All the while, Felix’s stare remained on your face, smiling between kisses he planted on your naked stomach. As though he wanted to capture all your focus and wouldn’t let you divert your eyes for anything.
A last smile sent your way and he dove in.
Your mouth stood agape as you watched him, connect his mouth to your clit, lightly sucking. You spread your legs so he could slot between them, and slot, he did. Key fitting in a lock, he kept your knees apart with his body, the whole couch becoming your playground.
Felix nibbled on your clit like it was sweet candy, gazes locked as his tongue came into play. Prodding, exploring. He looked sinful, like a devilish angle as his blonde locks tickled your bare thighs. A fucking dream-come-true, in the most literal sense.
Licking down your folds, he tasted you, humming in delight. His own personal five course meal.
Early on, you had been taught to never eat with your hands. That it was rude and crude, and ill-mannered. When Felix did it, it was nothing if not delicious. To watch, to hear, his fingers spreading you and entering in soft, gentle strokes.
Soon enough, he was three fingers in, knuckles-deep, petting the sensitive spot so deep you never reached it yourself. And there he was, doing it with so much ease, over and over. Kitty’s new best friend.
For a moment, you lost control, throwing your head back with a loud moan. When Felix squeezed your thigh, gently but determined, you brought your head back.
“Eyes on me, Kitten.”
A whimper at the nickname made him smirk as he scissored you open. His tongue prodded against your opening in sync, delightful as your stomach tensed.
“Oh, fuck—” You brought your hand to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Guiding him, at least as much as he let you. “Please.”
Cocking his head, Felix teased you, playfully confused by your words.
“Please, I need you. Inside. Please.”
With one last calm suck on your nub, he snaked his way up your body. Fingers remained inside you for now, distracting you.
“But I already am. You have to be more specific, Kitten.”
You clenched at the words, and he visibly noticed.
“Your cock. I need you inside me. Please, Felix.” If those words hadn’t driven him crazy already, persuading him, your next ones sure did. “Kitten needs your cock.”
He groaned, fingers coming up to touch your lips. You opened them, licking over his moist rings and he lost himself in the sight. “Such crude words for such a cute Kitten.”
Smearing the last of your essence over your mouth, he began licking it off, taking his sweet time. And then finally, after he had already done much more intimate, he kissed you. Careful and collected turned to desperate and chaotic as tongues melted into one.
Kissing Felix was natural, like you had done it so many times before. And you would have continued doing it, if it hadn’t been for the more pressing issues.
When you bucked up into him, rubbing your naked crotch against his clothed one, he smirked into the kiss. “Eager Kitten.”
“Desperate,” you corrected, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him into you.
Felix drew away to rid himself of his shirt, kneeling on top of you. It must have been the hottest thing you had ever been lucky enough to witness. As he untied the knot in his sweats, your sight remained on his toned torso. Sculptured abs followed a set of muscular pecs and his prominent collar bones. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, wanted to lick it and bite it, too. That was if he let you.
But not right now. Not when all you wanted was for him to devour you like his favourite desert.
Like the absolute menace he was, Felix tugged the hem of his sweats down, revealing the absence of underwear. And to think he walked around the apartment like that, unsucked. It was a real shame.
He stroked himself a couple of times, the other hand running through his messy locks. An undeniable God in human form.
You might have even been drooling, but before you could check, he hovered over you again. “Like what you see?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, curling upwards to connect your lips again.
With your legs still around his hips, it was easy for Felix to position himself. Your walls were clenching already, craving penetration. Some relief. Anything. It didn’t actually matter, as long as it was Felix doing it.
“You know,” he mumbled between kisses, tugging at your lip. It was in that moment, as he was so close, that you noticed the desire in his eyes. But it wasn’t just desire, but so much more. Adoration. Longing. Attraction. Love. “If you had told me about your secret from the start, we could have done this months ago.”
How he had come to know about your infatuation? You had no head to figure it out right that moment.
“However, we do have a lot to make up for. Better get to it, right?”
When Felix slid into you, your eyes rolled back into your head as your breath got caught in your lungs. Finally, after months of distanced yearning, he scratched the same itch that had plagued you for so long.
And your kitty was satisfied at last.
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Masterlist Leave your thought
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awrkive · 8 months
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[DRABBLE] COLD NIGHTS & BLURRED LINES (m) — JJK.
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you were used to jungkook making the first move every single time but this particular night, you couldn't help but change things up a little bit.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (minors dni pls)
WORD COUNT 4.1k (this is def not a drabble anymore but its like 70% smut anyway saur 🤷🏼‍♀️)
WARNINGS/MISC jk in grey tracksuit 😢 oc is not a procrastinator everybody booed. kinda domestic vibes everyone wants to have what they have including ms delusional me !! this is my literally me fic kinda (this is literally just oc thirsting over jungkook OEBDIDHSJEB) also imagine 3D jungkook guys.... 🙏🏼 smut warnings: oral s*x (m&f receiving, 69 position), penetrative s*x, multiple positions, overst*mulation, creampies, unprotected s*x (dont fls 🙏🏼)
NOTES heyyy so i reread cnbl last night and scrolled thru unanswered messages on my inbox and found these 2 (amongst many IEBDIDHSHD) drabble reqs for cnbl and decided to write it bcs i love and miss them!! unfortunately i lost my ao3 password and i have nowhere to post this so whatever im gonna start posting here again LMFAOOOO. anyway, i hope u guys enjoy this 💗 this is most esp dedicated to the second anon i hate college as well i hope this drabble brings you joy ☺️
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‼️CN&BL FULL FIC CAN BE READ HERE
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You missed who you were thirty minutes ago.
Before Jungkook arrived, you were extremely focused on the essay you've been stalling to get done since last week.
You were set on finishing the paper tonight, determined to submit it a day prior to the deadline – which is two days from now. You've never been a procrastinator and you wouldn't dare start now. But ever since Jungkook called, arriving a little over five minutes after your conversation on the phone and entering your dorm room, you have never been the same. Gone was your will to finish your essay; it yeeted out the window the moment he came in.
It wasn't that he was doing anything wrong, per se. He wasn't pestering you or doing anything to distract you from doing whatever it was you were doing. During the phone call, Jungkook told you he just wanted to hang around and you were in on it. "As long as I finish this essay without you doing anything funny" – that, was what you said. Joking, a little pointed, when he came barging in your door, socks on and hair still slightly wet from the shower he most probably had at his own apartment.
When you said those words, the goof just wiggled his brows, smirking with a look of mischief written all over his face, and then kissed you in such an unnecessarily passionate way that had you internally keening when he broke away. That gave you an initial idea that he would, indeed, do some funny business. If you were honest to yourself, you wouldn't have really minded that at all.
That was thirty minutes ago. Jungkook surprisingly hasn't tried to touch you at all for the past thirty minutes. In the present, he is just sprawled on your bed watching something on your stupid iPad, airpods plugged in both ears, letting you work in peace on your laptop.
Thirty minutes ago, that would've been fine. Because ultimately, you could focus on your essay and finish it then pass it way before the deadline but no, your problem right this moment does not lie on phonology, it lies on why does Jungkook have to lean his back on the headboard, thick eyebrows meeting each other every now and then as he watched his movies, and put that white t-shirt and grey sweatpants on himself?
You've been having an internal battle with yourself trying to fight the urge to look over your shoulders for him every three damn minutes, groaning quietly as you thought about how Jungkook looked so ridiculously hot doing the bare minimum. Literally nothing. He was doing absolutely nothing. And he was making you feel weird in your belly!
Wait. Is it your period? It ended two weeks ago, though, so that is definitely not that. Maybe you are ovulating? You'd have to check your flow app.
Absent-mindedly, you let out the begrudging moan you've been trying to hide.
"God."
As if alarmed, Jungkook suddenly shoots up and speaks after what felt like centuries.
"You okay? Am I bothering you here?" He said, voice dripping with honey and face full of concern. You got even hornier.
Oh my god. You wanted to cry.
You send him a tight-lipped smile. "I'm fine. And uh, no. You're good."
Jungkook doesn't pry further and goes back to his binge. Meanwhile, you force yourself to think of something.
Another long five minutes later, and you are still halfway done with your essay. The unfinished document only seems to taunt you. So, you let out another sigh, quite quiet this time so you don't make Jungkook think he was being an inconvenience. You made up your mind and just decided to give in to your urges.
You shut your laptop down instead of pressing sleep as you are sure there is no way you can do any more work tonight.
Standing up from your seat, you approach Jungkook on your bed.
He looks up at you the moment you hovered over him, taking his eyes off the iPad. When the mattress dips from your weight, Jungkook's lips stretch into a cute smile.
Your horniness dissipates a little over his adorable face.
"Done?" He asks, lifting a hand over your face to tuck a strand of hair away that you didn't even notice. You shake your head. Jungkook leans down to kiss your cheek. "So, tired?"
You scrunch your nose. "Kinda."
He kisses your mouth when a pout forms there.
"Eaten anything yet?" Jungkook scoots over to the side to make room on the bed for you. You fit yourself in the space, albeit tight (this was a dorm room, alright), and Jungkook is quick to slide his arm under your neck while he still holds the iPad on the other.
"Just reheated some leftover pasta from last night." You cringe over your last meal. It didn't taste good at all but you were way too hungry and delivery took forever to your dorm.
Jungkook seems to know that that pasta was shit, but he doesn't comment on that. Just hums and kisses the side of your head.
Ugh.
"Wanna order something in? Thai?" He suggests, looking at you.
But right now, eating Thai or whatever is the last thing on your mind. Though you would like to eat something else.
You tell him so. Except the last part, of course. Please. You have decorum.
"Uhm, no. I think I'll pass on that. Unless you haven't eaten." you say, playfully pointing a finger to his chest.
"Nah, Taehyung cooked dinner. I'm pretty full." Jungkook says, chuckling.
You had a smart remark on your tongue, something along the lines of, "Then why'd you offer to eat if you already have, weirdo" but to be honest with yourself, you already knew why. Jungkook liked seeing you eat. Dude practically buys most of your meals, now that you think about it.
But your still horny-adled brain went to go and tell your hand to search for his bare stomach under his shirt. And so it did. Forget about having decorum, shame is out the door when you press your palm to the flat surface of his stomach.
"Doesn't feel full at all." You commented, feeling the hard ridges of his abs. You hate them right now. But you would also really, really, like to see them.
Jungkook only chuckles at that. Before he can say anything, you ask him, "Hey, quick question."
"Hm?"
"Can I suck your dick?"
"Huh?" Jungkook, ever the man he is, put the iPad away for the first time since he's been here. Confused, but still, you could not have mistaken the look of pure interest in his face the moment you asked him that.
"I want to suck your dick, if you let me." You say, clearing yourself up. You are putting on a brave face, but internally, you are screaming.
So what if this thing between you has been happening for like… ten months now, almost a year? Jungkook was usually the one to always initiate sex and blowjobs were almost a rare occurrence in your sex life because you told him it hurt your knees but the real reason was because you didn't think you were very good at it. Jungkook never asks for it either, and sometimes you feel bad for only reciprocating handjobs during oral sex quickies but! He never says anything about it so maybe that was fine? Anyway, it's not like this is gonna be your first time sucking him. It's just the first time you initiated with your own words.
"Oh, you're serious?" Jungkook scoots over to his side and lays sideways to prop himself up. "Really?" He has an excited smile on, and you know that because of the way his eyes crinkle.
"Don't make me repeat it." You say pointedly, pushing him a little bit. Jungkook doesn't even budge at the slight attack, only holds your hands in his.
"No, I just… I thought you said no fooling around tonight." He says.
You shrug. "Yeah, well."
You don't expect him to tug you closer to him using his hold on you, and you were thankful you managed to suppress a loud squeal when he laid on his back and caught your whole body on top of his.
"I guess you can't resist my charm, after all." Jungkook says, grabbing a handful of your ass.
"Jungkook, please, you're scaring my lady boner off." You roll your eyes as you adjust yourself on top of him to get more comfortable.
"Take care of my gentleman boner then, baby." He counters and just because of that you avoid the kiss he was about to give you.
"Don't ever say gentleman boner ever again." You pinch his nipple and he let out a laugh at your petty retort. You knew he was sensitive there. But even then, you were starting to feel the growing need concealed under his sweats, and you were set on giving him the blowjob of his life tonight for some reason.
"I have a suggestion to make," Jungkook says suddenly, stopping you from crawling down to his body. You arch your brow at him, he continues, "I don't think we've ever tried sixty-nine, yet, haven't we? Because I also really want to eat you out right now."
"Oh, well, yeah…" you nod. You find yourself heating up at the way he casually tells you the last part.
"So…?"
You haven't really tried that either, and not just with him, but also with your other sex partners that only really summed up to less than four people, and that's including Jungkook. Anyway, the sixty-nine position sounded interesting.
"Okay, sure." You shrug.
"Fuck, you're the best."
This time, you give in to the kiss he gives you and pretty much after that it turns into a heavy make-out session with Jungkook fondling your boobs underneath your overused highschool PE shirt while you ground down against his erection that only kept growing harder as seconds passed.
You are panting when you break away, a string of saliva in between your lips, breathing for some air. Jungkook kisses his way down your neck, suckling on your skin and soothing it with his tongue.
"Take your shirt off," you say, already impatiently tugging at the hem of his clothing.
Without a word, Jungkook frees himself from the fabric. "You too, and your panties. Please."
You chuckle at the "please" but nonetheless straddle him to take your shirt off. Jungkook looks up at you with hooded eyes, massaging the bare skin of your waist as you wriggle your hair out of the neckline. He grips your waist as you lift your bum off his stomach, pulling your panties and shorts down in one go one leg to another.
"Shit," Jungkook hissed at the sight of your glistening pussy that has gotten wet overtime, hands roaming all over your body like he doesn't really know where to touch. Always fascinated and in awe with what you show him, always so eager, so touchy. And you always love his undivided attention. Makes you feel like a princess for some reason. Doesn't help that he calls you that sometimes, too.
"Oh, fuuck," he groaned when you sat on his stomach. You couldn't help but let out a quiet moan, too, feeling his hot skin and your cold pussy touching together. "Angel, fuck, come here, let me kiss you."
You lean down to kiss him and he quickly reciprocates, his tongue entering your parted mouth, swirling and licking inside, taking your breath away. You could feel yourself smearing your wet mess on his abs but you couldn't really care less, not when Jungkook looked like he couldn't, too, squeezing every inch of you he could get his hands on. And they were everywhere, alright. Your breasts, your waist, hips, ass, his thumb on the inside of your thighs, all the while kissing you like he was hungry for it.
Jungkook jostles you a little when he lifts himself up a little to slide down the grey sweatpants you have a love and hate relationship with, his dick shooting up his abdomen and touching your ass as a result.
He stops kissing you.
"Alright, one more minute of you grinding against me will make me nut. Sit on my face now, baby."
Blood shoots up your cheeks, making you feel hot. A little funny, given what you are doing right now. But he can't just be so casual about it! He was asking you to sit on his face like he was telling you the grass is green. Regardless, you kiss him one last time.
"Don't suffocate." You warned him, already reversing your position as easily as you can so that your back is facing him.
You hear Jungkook chuckling from behind. "Please, I'll die happily suffocating in this pussy."
"Please don't talk about dying." You deflect, already feeling so shy about the whole thing. Indeed it was your first time to try this position, and you quite didn't know how to act. You wonder if he's done this already in the past, but found yourself irritated at the thought of him doing this with anybody else. You'd have to assess what that feeling of irritation means later.
"Hmm," Jungkook hums, grabbing the globes of your ass and fondling them before you could even properly place your knees on both sides of his head. With his hold on the flesh, he pulls you closer to him until you feel his breath on your core. "Ah, shit, will never get tired of this pussy, baby. Fuck, you're so wet."
You try to focus your attention on his hard dick against his stomach, veiny and rigid, red at the tip and shining with pre-cum. Wrapping your fingers around the base, you lean down a little more so that you can begin teasing him.
But Jungkook beats you down to it as he licks a long stripe across your pussy. It has you keening and stumbling a little over, feeling so good at the contact of his tongue against your sex. You hear him hiss before he says, "Come on, pretty, sit on my face, don't hover."
You hesitate before giving in, and Jungkook is quick to continue the ministrations of his tongue on your pussy. The position was so new to you but you couldn't help but think it was so good, feeling him this way, albeit still a little conscious about cutting off his air supply. But as Jungkook starts licking and sucking, you remember his cock in your hand and it prompts you to stroke him up and down; slow, because your mind is cloudy from the way you could hear the slick of your pussy from Jungkook's licking.
Leaning down, you kiss the head of his cock, licking his pre-cum off the top. There was Jungkook's groan again, and you thought that was a good sign, then continued to suck his tip a little just to see it getting even redder.
Jungkook suddenly gets more aggressive in the ministrations of his tongue, from his slow yet precise strokes, he starts increasing speed, fingers getting tighter on your asscheeks, the tip of his tongue prodding at your entrance giving you a taste of being full.
It prompted you to whimper, Jungkook only humming, seemingly pleased with himself. Letting out a shaky breath, you resume stroking his cock, twisting your fingers around the base. Soon, you lean even closer so that you can wrap your lips around the head.
Jungkook's groan was a pure sinful sound of pleasure as you did so. Nevermind that he was having his own feast on your pussy, you were determined to make him cum. And to do that was to suck on the tip gently at first, swirling your tongue on the cum that's building up on it. You joined the motion of it with your hand stroking the shaft up and down, cheeks hollowed and sucking the air in your mouth to create a suction that has Jungkook slightly jolting in his position.
"Oh, fuck yeah, baby, that's it, you're so good at this… shit," He says behind you, moving his mouth off your pussy and replacing it with two fingers. Jungkook slides them in easily, the squelching sound so apparent it cannot be mistaken for anything else if there was anybody but you two in the room. "You like this, baby? Hm? You're taking my fingers and my cock so well."
You moaned around his cock, heat starting to spread all over your body as Jungkook began to join his digits with his own mouth, devouring your pussy like he always does when he goes down. You start losing your rhythm on his cock, choking on it a third time now as you haven't really managed to fit it all in your mouth. You've always tried to, but he's always been a little too big for you. If it was a skill issue, you didn't care, Jungkook enjoys it just as much as you do.
When Jungkook rubs your clit, that's when you start shaking on your knees, threatening to crumble down.
As if he knew what was coming, Jungkook suddenly says, "Don't come yet, baby, not now." and you swear you would have actually cried.
What you didn't expect is Jungkook suddenly sitting up, his hands gripping your hips so that you don't jostle on top of him. You let go of his dick as he slides you off his body, and you let him manhandle you into sitting on his cock that slides in too easily like your pussy was fine silk. You now sit on top of him in what seems to be like a reverse cowgirl position, except that you aren't the one in control of your own movements.
"Oh, K-kook – Jungkook!" you yelped as he bounced you on his rigid dick, your body melting against his.
"Shh, take my cock, angel. You can do that for me, right? You're so pretty right now, I wish you could see yourself." Jungkook whispers against your hair, and you pathetically nod, craning your neck up at him to seek for his mouth. He smiles at you, the gentle nature of it so contrasting to the way he was controlling your hips, bouncing you in and out of his cock. "My pretty little angel."
He kisses you passionately, and as seconds passed his hands began to travel upwards to cup your breast, fondling it in his hand and pinching your nipple. You also started to initiate your pwn movements, meeting Jungkook's thrusts from below you, all the whole moaning in his mouth at the pleasure of his cock touching every crevice of your pussy.
The feeling of this never gets old even if you've done it exclusively and quite constantly with each other for the past ten months. Sex with Jungkook is always just so intense it always keeps you on your toes.
"K-kook, I'm cumming," you gasped in his mouth, feeling that build up in your belly
"Hm," Jungkook leaves your boob in favor of your pussy. Kissing you one last time on the mouth, he leans against your shoulder to watch as he spreads your nether lips. You look down to his hand there, fingers spreading the lips apart witnessing your own hole getting split open by his engorged cock. The sight was so lewd and obscene you couldn't help your moan. Then, Jungkook begins rubbing your clit again, fast and with a purpose, this time to make you finish. And he finally gives you the green light to do so. "You can cum now, baby."
And as if prompted by his simple words, you came, feeling a gush of wetness coming out of your pussy. You watch the way Jungkook kept his fingers in there, massaging your hole and kissing your neck.
"Jungkook…" you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you come down from your high, pussy throbbing and spasming from the intense feeling of cumming. He did edge you from when he ate you out.
"Good girl."
And again, Jungkook changes your position. From sitting up, you are now laid against the bed again, with him switching your positions so now he's the one hovering and you underneath him. He grabs your hips up and enters your pussy once again, sliding his cock in and out to chase his own orgasm. Your moans only encourage him to go faster, his grunts filling the room.
"Oh, that's it, Kook, you come for me too." You say, reaching for his stomach with one hand and fondling your own boob with other for his own consumption. Jungkook always liked seeing you play with them.
"Yeah, you're so sexy like that," he says, even picking up his speed higher.
Soon, he was cumming with a pained groan, and you didn't expect to cum a second time the same time he did.
Another gush of slickness slides down your pussy while Jungkook pulled out completely. But he was putting it in again a second later, rubbing his dick against your core. You sigh, partly at the sensitivity but also how pleasurable it all still felt even though you've come twice now in the span of almost what? – thirty minutes? Maybe an hour?
"Pretty fucking pussy you've got here, baby," Jungkook says before pushing his cum back into you, making you cry out. "Never gonna get enough of this. Of you."
You whimpered, clinging to his forearms as he continued his actions.
"Cum for me one more time?" He asks, staring deeply into your eyes.
And you couldn't possibly do that. Coming twice was not at all what you envisioned your night to be, thrice was a heart attack. But at the same time, you couldn't really resist his pleading eyes and his deep voice and his still hard cock pushing his creampie deeper into you.
So you nod your head, and Jungkook leans down to swipe the strand of hairs that sprouted all over your face overtime, wet on the hairline from your sweat, just before he slides his cock all the way in again, repeating that in and out routine, the slamming and the bottoming out, the quickening oh his pace and your toes curling once again that impeded your orgasm for the third time that night.
When you finished, exhausted and spent the fuck out, Jungkook laid on your boobs and kissed all over, playing with one of your nipples in his other hand. You were flat on the bed, dead weight, looking up at the ceiling and closing your eyes to cool yourself from what had just happened.
"Okay, that's enough, Kook, we gotta clean up." You say, massaging the soft curls on the top of his head.
He only let out a non-committal hum.
"Jungkook."
"Yes, baby?"
"Enough sex. I'm fried." You say, pulling his hair slightly to make him look up at you. But that was a bad decision of course 'cause he only seemed to enjoy the teasing.
"Just saying hello to these amazing boobs of yours." You rolled your eyes at his retort, nonetheless accepting it.
"Thanks, I guess."
Eventually, Jungkook stopped being clingy and finally found the will to fetch a wet rag from the bathroom. He cleaned you up and and you didn't bother dressing up except the panties you asked him to get for you. Soon after that, you cuddle together in bed.
"Hey," Jungkook suddenly whispers behind you, fingers massaging your hip, mouth press to your head. You hum. "I think we should do that more."
You try to look over your shoulder. "What? The sex?" you say, chuckling.
Jungkook pinches your hip. "Yeah, I told you we should have sex everyday. But that's not the point, I meant the sixty-nine."
"Well, first of all, having sex everyday is physically not possible," you roll your eyes though he couldn't see. "Second, I enjoyed that position, too. A little bit distracting, but definitely really enjoyable."
Jungkook agrees. "I think you just gave me the best blowjob of my life, if you wanna know."
"Really?" you confirmed, smiling up at him.
"Almost nutted when you sucked my head."
You chuckle, slapping his chest and roll your eyes again for how many times now?
"No but seriously…" Jungkook suddenly turns, indeed, serious. But he's still smiling, though, just a little less playful with his tone. "What was with you tonight? Did you finish that essay?"
Oh god, your essay. Right.
You feel your cheeks heat up a little remembering how you were basically thirsting over him him a while ago. And for no reason too.
Despite cringing internally, you shrug. "No, not really, but submission's two days from now and I just wanted to kiss you, I guess."
That made Jungkook's smile even bigger. He doesn't say anything more but only scoots even closer to your neck, kissing your hair.
"Hm, I always wanna kiss you too, and I do. But I love it when you ask for it."
You think you'll start doing it more, too.
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faetreides · 3 months
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Feral feral Anakin fucking you every second of the day because he can’t get enough of you and is overly obsessed
send me coryo, luke castellan, or anakin asks (this is a threat)
implied canon compliant prequels and childhood friend afab royalty reader (basically in padme's place) based on an upcoming fic
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This is canon Anakin behavior actually, he's like a big dog with his favorite chew toy. The dog obviously loves the toy a lot but it's because of his love that the toy becomes well used. No matter how tattered it becomes, the dog will still curl around it and spend its days licking the hell out of it until it withers away.
I think that because of how he grew up, just a little boy on some ball of sand whose life really didn't belong to him, as soon as he's free from that he just unravels. I love Anakin being written as more unhinged or even slightly like an eldritch horror, because suddenly he has this big destiny laid out in front of him and the tethers holding his soul together inevitably come unhooked. I think that he's wired like that from the beginning, very passionate but without a means to express it.
So, when he meets you, little royal heir with all the stars of the galaxy in your eyes, he tells a familiar story about an angel and from then on, it's over for him. Every moment of his life orbits around the sun in his solar system, you.
The first think he thinks when he sees you again, is how your moans would echo off the windows when he eats you out on one of the couches. Then he imagines your perfectly manicured hands clawing delicious ribbons down his back while he rabidly pounds your sopping wet pussy against the wall of your huge walk-in closet in your apartment. He'd have to hold a hand over your mouth, but he wouldn't do a thing to clean up the slicks that drips out of your pussy onto the floor. You'd pout as you'd rush to get ready before Obi-Wan came back, and all he'd be able to do in response is hook his chin over your shoulder and smile.
"No, it's because I'm so in love with you."
You're leaning against a balcony overlooking a lake in Naboo and all he can think about as he strokes a shy finger down your back is hiking your dress up and bending you over it. You're chained to a pillar in between him and Obi-Wan, and when all is said and done, he wishes he killed everybody that was relishing in your suffering in that arena and fucked you with their blood coating his body. He could go on forever until the last grain of sand on Tatooine flies away. He'd have gotten you barefoot and pregnant immediately if the leash around his neck was any looser.
No matter the fantasy or the moment, you always have at least one mark on you. He's not patient enough for hickies and his fingers move too quickly for any serious bruises to form on your body. He favors bite marks, near perfect impressions of his teeth etched in your soft skin. He doesn't bite to tear, just does his repeated 'chomp!'s without a single thought in his head; your thighs bear the brunt of it. Anakin likes when drops of blood bead at the surface of the bites, because then he can lick the bites soothingly. You usually have to run your fingers through his hair to get him to come back to himself when he starts doing it on autopilot with his eyes rolled back.
"Yes, yes, yessssss.... love fucking my cunt, missed making love to my sloppy pussy. Taking my dick so well, keep breathing with me, my love. That's it, just like that."
His way of saying good morning is languid strokes deep in your guts. His way of saying good night is crazed thrusts that have him putting it back it when his frenzied pace causes his length to slip out. He has is so hard sometimes, determined to carry the entire galaxy on his shoulders with you on top of it. You can the rising anger that builds within him when everything he does to prove himself goes unrecognized. The best way he has to ignore all of that outside responsibility is knocking your sweaty body up the bed while you're clutching the headboard for dear life.
Anakin's emotions bleed from him so openly, and all you have to do is drink them in. Because even though he wasn't free when he met you, you owned him them with his gift around your neck. You own him now, your cervix kissing his mushroom tip in its own display of affection. He is supposed to live his life with the intention to be the force's son, but he is burning to ash faster than he is fulfilling his destiny; at least he can keep you and your future children warm.
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sundrop-writes · 6 months
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Better Than Sleeping
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Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
Summary:
You and Jason are friends with benefits. Though you have come to realize that the relationship doesn’t always ‘benefit’ you when he ends up annoying you after a long, tiring day of training.
(He quickly makes you come to see that his annoying persistence can benefit you, even if you would never admit it aloud.)
Jason Todd x Fem!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during Season 2.
Word Count: 5,300
DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link
THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.
Warning: This fic contains Dubious Consent. One character ‘wears down’ the other and ‘convinces them’ to have sex, and both of them display verbal consent that goes against their true actions and desires (they say no to having sex when they do truly want to) and they think of convincing the other person to agree as a kind of ‘game’. It is a relationship that is playful in nature, and this consent is based on bodily queues, facial expressions, and knowing a person’s safety and comfort based on being in a relationship with them for a period of time. If this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read the fic.
List of detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.
Warnings: friends with benefits, this is primarily a smut fic, the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive (once the sex begins), the reader could be considered a brat, Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (it is a canon event), Jason calls the reader ‘baby’, Jason calls the reader ‘good girl’, dubious consent - coercion (please see the above for an explanation about this), mentions of masturbation (watching someone masturbate), mentions of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep, mentions of free use kink, mentions of cumming inside someone/unprotected sex, marking/biting, groping/touching through underwear (reader receiving), orgasm denial (toward the reader), ‘just the tip’,teasing, there is a point where Jason’s dick is inside her without a condom but he doesn’t cum, and he puts on a condom before fully penetrating (what would you call that?), begging, slight mentions of subspace (but it’s more so described as a lustful drunkness), there is implications toward the end of fucking someone to sleep/fucking someone while they are asleep with their permission. I believe that is everything.
A/N: This is definitely one of my favourite things I have written. I thought maybe I was going to edit it some before re-posting it, but I was rereading it the other day and I actually realized that it's really good the way it is, so here you go - some random cocky Jason smut, inspired by the 'just the tip' trope. I hope you enjoy!
...
You knew that becoming a Titan was never going to be easy. 
But fuck, this was a lot harder than you imagined it would be. Dick Grayson was quickly becoming your least favorite person. Between the 5am wake up calls and the endless workout routines, paired with the bland ‘nutrient filled’ meal plans he had everyone on to ‘fuel your bodies’ for training - he was becoming a menial drill sergeant that you couldn’t get away from. One of the only things that made it better was the fact that you had friends around - the ability to joke about him with Rachel, Gar, and Jason behind his back. Was it a bit mean-spirited? Yes. Did you feel less guilty about it whenever he added more onto the training routine? Also yes. 
You had no clue when these skills you were working so hard on were ever going to come into play. Every single night, Dick retired himself into the comms room full of computers to ‘monitor the city for threats’ - but he seemingly never found anything worthy of the team’s attention. At least not yet. So you went about the routine of training hard, becoming exhausted, falling into bed to sleep and then doing it all over again. 
Oh - and there was the other thing. The not so occasional part of your routine where Jason fucked your brains out. The fact that the two of you had developed a mutually beneficial relationship to help ‘relieve’ each other when you were horny, a quintessential friends with benefits situation. But with your muscles sore from training and your entire body so exhausted, that was the farthest thing from your mind on this night. 
After a long, hard day of training, the last thing you wanted to hear was a knock on your bedroom door. You hoped that it was simply Gar asking to borrow some of your body wash again (because he liked the smell), or Rachel asking you to kill a spider in her room, and not Dick alerting you to some surprise training drill that he had suddenly thought up. 
You shoved your pajama top over your head, finishing getting changed for the night, and rushed across the room to the door. When you opened it, you barely had time to gauge if you were pleased or displeased at seeing Jason before he spoke. 
“I’m horny.” He announced abruptly, being very abrupt about delivering his feelings. 
But it was in character for him, and didn’t surprise you in the least. 
You hated that your stomach jolted at his words, even if just out of Pavlovian habit. It had been only two days since the last time he had fucked you. He had caught you in the shower in the morning, snuck into the bathroom with a condom between his teeth and opened the shower door to join you while you were distracted meditatively washing your hair. It had been steamy, soapy, slippery, and goddamn wonderful. 
But it had left you sore and stiff before training, and you were wondering how much give and take there was - if you truly needed his cock. 
“Hello to you too.” You said, your tone just as dead tired as you felt. 
You wouldn’t admit that you were a bit horny too. You were tired, and you wanted to go to sleep. So that made you annoyed with his presence. (It should have made you more annoyed than you were.) 
Jason bit his lip, raking his eyes up and down your body with an intense heat lurking there. You glared back at him. 
Jason was intensely attractive. He was a good looking guy, that was just a fact. And while you did enjoy the way he was looking at you, staring you down like you were a porn star when you were slumped with exhaustion, wearing baggy old pjs with mascara smeared on your face with sweat, your hair a mess from the day - there was barely a spark stirred in your stomach at the idea of fucking him right now. You were just too damn tired. Dick had been running you all into the ground, instituting the same training that Batman had given him, and it was fucking exhausting. 
“So - can I come in?” Jason asked. 
He gave you a very expectant curl of his lips and tilted his head toward you when you didn’t say anything for a few seconds. You just stood there and stared at him bitterly. 
You sighed hard through your nose, not wanting to answer the question. 
Fucking him might be nice. A good orgasm before bed. But you needed to put what little energy you had left into your nightly routine and then get a good, long sleep before Dick woke everyone up at ass o’clock again. 
“No.” You finally told him. “I’m going to bed.” 
You turned and walked back into your room, but left the door open. You hoped that he would get the hint to leave on his own. You grabbed your bottle of makeup remover and a cotton pad and began taking off your makeup. 
You weren’t so lucky. 
“I’ll go to bed with you, babe.” He announced proudly. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. 
He then came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You felt the half hardness of his cock pressing into your ass as you wiped away your makeup with stern hands. You tried your hardest not to let him wear you down, even as you felt a tingle between your thighs. He was used to training this hard, so it wasn’t as exhausting for him. Clearly, he didn’t understand how tired you were - how badly you needed the rest. 
“Go get in your own bed.” You barked, your tone becoming more strained. 
As you leaned closer to the mirror to inspect your face, to make sure that you had gotten all the tiny specs of makeup off, you unintentionally arched your back, pushing your ass much closer to his crotch. Jason let out a quiet moan and you caught him smirking at you in the reflection of the mirror. 
He leaned in close, draping his warm body entirely over your back, trapping you there as he put one hand on the dresser and the other on the wall and leaned his body weight on you. You could have shoved him off you if you wanted to - but as you felt a tingling heat creeping up your back, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to. 
“Come on, babe.” He sighed into your neck. 
His hot breath on such a sensitive place caused a shiver through you that you would deny. 
“Why are you being like this? You know if you want a good sleep, getting fucked nice and hard is the best way to get it.” He told you, so entirely cocky. “My cock will put you right to bed, baby.” 
The words sent a hard jolt of electricity through you, settling a hard heat through you from your gut all the way to your face, burning uncomfortably through your skin. Combined with the way he ground his increasing hardness against your ass, you were forced to suppress a whimper. 
It made you even more annoyed with him - the fact he could play your body like an instrument he had finely tuned. And you reacted with that intense annoyance. 
“Why can’t you just masturbate like a normal person?” You scoffed at him, entirely firm, not giving away an ounce of weakness in your voice. 
“As if.” He held intense disgust in his voice at the very idea. 
He gave another firm dig of his hips, causing you to be pressed into the sharp edge of the dresser - a small twinge of pain that only added to the heat growing in your stomach. 
“Why the fuck would I resort to touching myself when I have the sweetest pussy ever to fuck right down the hall?” Jason explained. “But ya know, if you want to watch me jack off, that can be arranged.” 
Instead of responding to that, you just rolled your eyes. You hoped that he wouldn’t notice that subtle shift of lust in your features that said this was definitely a new fantasy of yours because he had brought it up. 
“You can’t deny that you need it too.” Jason whispered into your ear. 
“I need sleep.” You grunted in return. 
You then shucked out of his hold, using one of the evasive maneuvers that Dick had taught you in training, ducking under Jason’s arm when he wasn’t expecting it. Before he could blink, you were across the hall and in the bathroom. It was mostly because you knew that if you stood there any longer with his warm body pressed against your back, you would have given in far too easily. 
Naturally, Jason followed you. 
He stuck by your side through your entire night time routine, trying to wear you down. You weighed the pros and cons in your head without truly listening to him as the exhaustion seeped into your bones and battled with the lust growing inside of you. 
Jason brushed his teeth standing next to you in front of the sink while you brushed yours, all the while mumbling excuses through his toothpaste about how the sex would be good aerobic exercise to help with your training. By the time you got to doing your skincare, you ended up putting a face wash and moisturizer on him just to mentally drown out whatever he was saying - something about orgasms and endorphins and how it helps mental health. 
As you pulled back the covers to finally settle in, he snuck his way into your bed under the guise of ‘just cuddling’. Though you weren’t anywhere near convinced of that sentiment, you didn’t kick him out of the room or protect. You were surprised, but grateful when he took off his shirt, laid down, and seemed to finally shut up. You weren’t sure which you were more grateful for - the quiet or the stunning eye candy of his tight body on full display. But you didn’t question the fact that he had finally stopped nagging you. 
You crawled into bed beside him and settled into his arms. You gave him a kiss on the cheek as a goodnight (knowing that if you kissed him on the mouth, it would turn into something more heated). It was only about two minutes after you shut off your bedside lamp, shrouding the room in darkness, that the talking began again. 
“You could sleep through it.” He noted quietly. 
You sighed with deep annoyance. 
“If you want to. I could be gentle about it.” 
His voice continued on from behind you as he spooned you, one arm under your head underneath the pillow and the other laid almost possessively around your waist. 
Of course, he didn’t even have to be too descriptive for you to know what ‘it’ was. 
The idea of him gently fucking you while you fell into a lazy sleep was entirely too appealing. But he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t need to win. Especially not after you had put so much of your very little remaining energy into deterring him all night. 
“Go to sleep.” You told him with a huff, shoving your head further into the pillow. 
He simply chuckled. 
You hoped that if you just ignored him, he would shut up and go to sleep. 
You would never admit to him that heat bloomed in your stomach at the idea of Jason crawling into your bed when you were already in a deep sleep, using you for his own selfish pleasure and leaving you sore and full of cum to wake up to in the morning. 
“Hmm… no.” He replied, as easily as a petulant child, his breath fanning out over your neck once again. 
Your heated thoughts easily blossomed into a moan from your lips when he latched onto your neck without warning. He picked a particularly tender spot, sucking hard with teeth and the fullness of his lips, easily knocking the wind out of you. You shoved your heated face tightly into your pillow, praying that he wouldn’t notice your reaction. That he wouldn’t realize he so blatantly had you like putty in his hands. If he knew that, he would know that he could just take whatever he wanted and you wouldn’t protest. Not in the slightest. 
Jason already knew that. But he wasn’t just going to pull down your shorts and slam his cock into you. As much fun as that would be - he wasn’t barbaric. Plus - now that he had one of your sweet little sounds in his ears, he wanted more. He wanted to hear you beg for it after denying him for so long. 
He moved his arm from being so tightly around your waist, and pushed your shirt up. You tried your best to put up a wall of indifference toward this. He began skimming his touch oh so lightly along the roundness of your stomach, right above the band of your shorts. You knew he felt the shiver that ran through you, but you refused to say anything. You weren’t pretending to be asleep at this point, but it was a game to the two of you. You still refused to give in. 
But he was playing to win. 
He shoved his hand into the waistband of your shorts, touching you outside the fabric of your underwear. His skin felt like he could have burned you, even through the fabric. You had to make a conscious effort not to buck forward into the touch. When his fingers skimmed across your hotly beating clit (when had you gotten so turned on?) you swallowed another whimper and steadied your voice. 
“Jason.” You said his name firmly, like a warning bell. “If you don’t behave yourself, I’m gonna kick you out.” 
“I don’t think you will.” He whispered into your neck, defiantly cocky once again. 
He sucked another hard, hot mark onto your skin as he cupped your pussy whole in his palm and began grinding the heel of his hand against your clit. 
You let out a wobbling moan and your body thrashed, your energy so depleted that you could no longer hold back your body’s natural reactions to him. You were met with the hard wall of his body behind you, so firm and perfectly hot as he pressed himself tighter into you. 
He gave a satisfied grin into your skin and only doubled down, putting more pressure on your throbbing clit and causing hot waves from that point, adding to the rolling boil that raged under your skin. 
With the beautifully firm pressure and Jason’s talent, the way he knew your body so well, you could have come from this alone. Especially as the pleasure throbbed through your core, your underwear became more soaked through and it was all so beautifully smooth and wet. 
Jason began grinding his cock - still trapped inside a pair of sweats - against the back of your thigh. He groaned into your neck when he felt a pleasurable tingling of his own spreading through his gut, though he craved to be inside of you. As much as he was enjoying this - the sweet, needy sounds falling from your lips, the way your thighs clamped around his wrist, as though desperately trying to keep him in place while your hips humped against his hand like a bitch in heat - he knew that he needed more. 
And he was going to make you beg for it. 
When he felt the signature twitch of your legs that said you were about to cum, he stopped. He held his hand completely still, his strong arm easily pinning your hips down to the bed to prevent you from humping against him and simply taking what you needed. In that moment, he even curled two of his fingers up to shove the fabric of your underwear inside of you slightly, creating a sharp sting that reminded you just how empty you were feeling. 
“Jay-!” You let out his name in a petulant whine, about to scold him for the ruined orgasm, but he cut you off. 
“You gonna ask me nicely now?” He rumbled into your ear. “Admit you were wrong?” 
You wanted to bark out ‘either make me cum, or go to your own damn bed’ - but you knew that Jason was just as petty as you were. At that point, he would have gotten up and left for his own bed just to prove a point. 
“You’re keeping me awake right now.” You huffed out, trying your best to sound annoyed. (Which wasn’t too difficult, considering how badly the ruined orgasm had frustrated you.) “My point still stands.” 
Of course, sleeping was the farthest thing from your mind now. The sexual frustration had injected a new wave of energy through you, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to rest until you were truly satisfied. 
Unfortunately, Jason knew that too. 
“Okay.” Jason sighed quietly, giving a click of his tongue. 
He then completely pulled his hand out of your shorts and pulled away from your body. It seemed like he was moving to get out of the bed - you worried you had accidentally triggered that signature pettiness in him. 
But as usual, Jason Todd surprised you. 
You bit your lip to hold back a cheer when he reached for the waistband of your shorts and underwear pulled them down all at once, exposing your hot, soaked cunt to the cool air of the room. (At some point, the blanket had been accidentally shoved off you.) You took a glance over your shoulder and of course, he was shoving his pants down to his knees. You caught a glimpse of his long, thick, hard cock bobbing out of the fabric in the darkness. But you didn’t dare to spend too much time admiring it, for fear of making him too cocky. 
You relaxed against your pillow in satisfaction, waiting for Jason to grab a condom out of the bedside table’s drawer so that he could literally fuck you to sleep. 
You were surprised when he scooted back toward you, pressing himself right up against your back once more. He proceeded to simply press his hips against yours - his cock laid flat against the bare folds of your leaking pussy, immediately becoming slick with your wetness. But be made no moves to grab a condom or even tease you by pushing inside of you raw. 
(Which - yes, the two of you had agreed to always use condoms, but it was secretly a fantasy of yours that he would go against the rule because of his overbearing need to feel you raw - or even the need to cum inside of you). 
But instead of doing any of that, Jason seemed to be settling in to relax. 
Jason draped himself across your back, wrapped his arm around your waist again, and gently laid his head on your shoulder. But he made no effort to move, or fuck you. Your pussy throbbed with need, feeling the hot, hard length pressed against you, entirely unmoving. When you clenched around nothing, you let out a wave of slick that you knew he could feel right on his cock. You felt a groan catch inside his chest, but still, he didn’t move. 
“Jason.” You breathed out, having to question him after a few more moments of silence and stillness. “What are you doing?” 
“Going to sleep.” He answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought you wanted me to just shut up and leave you alone so that you could get some rest?” 
That. Little. Shit.
You resisted the urge to elbow him in the face. 
Obviously, being so close to you, he felt your entire body tense up with anger and annoyance. He was only able to partially hold back his satisfactory laughter. When the quiet snickers met your ears, you became even more annoyed. 
“Jason.” You scolded him gruffly. 
“Oh? I’m sorry,” He said, entirely sarcastic. “Did you want something?” 
“Did you want something?” You parroted back, mocking his words in a childish voice. 
Essentially, you had no more clever comebacks left. He had won. 
“I guess I can give you something for your troubles, babe.” Jason sighed, as though it were a grand inconvenience to him. “Maybe just the tip, though.” 
“Just the tip.” You sighed, finding yourself repeating his words once again. Though this time your voice was dead and sarcastic rather than mocking - mostly because you didn’t believe him. 
You knew that in Jason land, ‘just the tip’ meant slamming his entire cock into you after the tip lingered in your entrance for a moment. You clenched down on nothing again at the thought. 
Once again, you were expecting him to grab a condom so he could fuck you freely without worry. You were surprised when he peeled his body away from you slightly and reached down to grab his cock. After a moment of rubbing the fat cockhead along your folds to get it nice and wet, he did as promised and pushed the tip inside. 
It was the first time he had ever been inside of you without the barrier of a condom, and feeling his hot, raw skin touching yours - even just a little bit, made you gasp. 
“Jason!” 
Your voice was whiny even to your own ears, so needy for him after so much teasing. Upon instinct, feeling that painfully empty ache coming from deep inside you, you arched your back and attempted to shove your hips toward him - attempted to pull more of his thickness inside of you. But Jason was quicker, and he had his hands on both your hips, shoving you down onto the bed so hard and fast that the tip of his cock fell out of you with a wet pop. 
It was a sound that made heat beat through your cheeks, and the feeling of his wet cockhead brushing against the backs of your thighs took your breath away. 
“Oops.” He chuckled, and moved to slot himself back into position.
You had no clue why it was so dizzyingly hot. 
But this time he held you down firmly so you couldn’t simply fuck yourself back onto his cock. You moaned as the thickness of the cockhead popped back inside of you - you yearned for more, but he stayed still. 
After a moment, he began to move his hips so slightly, feeding no more than an inch of his cock into your throbbing cunt before pulling it back out. It was an entirely careful movement on his part where he fed you the first inch, and didn’t let the tip pop out again, in pathetically shallow thrusts that could barely be called sex. Your pussy ached, tingled, yearned for more. 
You mentally cursed Batman for teaching him such good self discipline and him using it for this.
“Jason.” You whined, trying fruitlessly to fight against the firm grip he had on your hips in order to fuck yourself on his cock. 
“What, babe?” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss a line across your shoulder. 
“You know what.” You replied, your tone even more frustrated and whiny. 
You wiggled your hips desperately, trying to get more of him inside of you. You yearned to feel the perfect ache of his thick cock splitting you open, hitting all of those perfect spots so deep inside of you. 
“No, I don’t.” He told you, his voice somehow steady and confident. “You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.” 
You couldn’t see it or feel it, but his hips were trembling and his abs were tight with the pure resistance of his self control. All of the energy he was using not to slam his cock into the tight, warm velvet of your cunt, especially as he felt it leak so freely around the tip of his cock, knowing how badly you needed him. He wanted nothing more than to watch you whine and babble and fall apart on his cock - but he wanted to win just a little bit more. 
There was a distinct pause. The last shreds of your own stubbornness hanging in the air, even as your cunt throbbed with need. 
Even if Jason couldn’t see your face from this angle, he could feel the warring in your body. He knew you too well. And he knew how to break you down so perfectly. 
“If you want anything more than this,” He told you, emphasizing the point with another pathetically shallow thrust. “If you want anything more than just the tip of my cock,” His voice was low and silken and creating even more heat that almost drowned you. “Then you’re gonna have to beg for it.” 
“Fuck you, Jay.” You whined out in protest, once again trying to fight his grip on your hips to fuck yourself against him. 
He viciously dug his fingers into the fat of your hips, causing a sharp sound from your throat at the beautiful pain. 
He leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, and growled out his next words in a low tone that dragged through your insides in the exact spot where his cock should have been. 
“Come on.” He urged you on. “Fucking. Beg.” 
That was when you broke. 
At least you hadn’t given in too easily. 
“Please,” You whined out breathlessly. “Please, fuck me! Fuck me, Jason! I need it.” 
“What else?” Jason asked expectantly. 
You could have killed him. But when your desperate cunt unconsciously clenched down on the fat head of his cock and you felt yourself growing only more hot and needy, you knew that there was only one thing to do. 
“I’m sorry, Jay, I should have - I should have just asked nicely in the first place. I do need it. I need your big cock inside of me so badly.” You poured it on thick, emphasizing the last words in the most pornographic voice you could muster, hoping that he was running low on self control as well. 
And he was. So he was very satisfied with this. He grinned into your skin, leaving a surprisingly tender kiss on the back of your neck before he mumbled out ‘good girl’ - something that made you moan out sharply. 
You let out a sharp noise of disappointment when his cock popped out of you again. 
“I need a condom.” He told you, giving you a reassuring pat on the ass. “As much as I’d love to cum inside you, we do have an agreement.” 
You weren’t sure which was hotter - his sex-thick voice admitting that he shared one of your deepest fantasies, or the fact that he was caring so deeply for you, making sure that he protected you with a condom even when you were in that floating headspace and willing to let him do just about anything do your body. 
Your mind was swimming contemplating it, and next thing you knew it, he had the condom on successfully. He then slammed his cock inside of you in one firm, smooth movement. Any thoughts were easily pounded out of your head by the practiced movement of his hips.
“Better now?” Jason grunted into your ear. 
You could practically feel his smugness radiating through his cock, spearing into you. 
But you were now alight with intense pleasure, warm satisfaction rolling through you - so you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care about how smug he was. Every bit of cockiness he had, he did back it up with a pretty big dick that he knew how to use well. Not that you would ever say those words aloud to him. Not even on your deathbed. 
“Just shut up and fuck me.” You ordered, though it was breathless and had no bite. 
“As you wish, babe.” He replied, and then doubled down - his hips fucking into you with an intense fury. 
You moaned like a whore at this, finally feeling that dizzying fullness that you had been craving since he had snuck his touch into your shorts. Jason drank up your sounds and easily wanted more - more of your perfect pussy squeezing around his cock, more of that wetness coating his inner thighs, more of that filthy wet smacking as he fucked into you. 
He leaned down, draping his body fully over yours once again, creating a pleasantly smothering weight on top of you as you laid on your stomach on the bed with your face nearly drowned in the pillow. He slowed the pace of his hips to a dangerous torture of a grind, fucking you so deeply now that you were sure you could feel him coming up inside of your throat. You let out a wounded noise, and he hushed you gently. 
“Shh, babe, I’ve got you.” He whispered into your ear. “Gonna make you feel so good.” 
He moved one of his hands from your hip and shoved it between your body and the bed, and once again he was cupping your mound fully in his hand - but this time there was no fabric barrier, and he was settled deep inside of you. It was filling your whole body with lava, turning every place he touched you to boiling ash. You were sure that you would have dissolved into nothingness if not for the anchor of your cunt hanging onto his cock, keeping you grounded in reality with that slight nip of pain as your muscles clenched onto him. 
“Now say thank you.” He told you, his voice so gruff in your ear, so thick with desire that it made you dizzy. “Thank me for giving you my cock.” 
He used two precise fingers to rub circles on your neglected clit, immediately sending shockwaves through your body that made your muscles jump and jolt. 
You gulped for air and struggled to move your face out of the fabric of the pillow, and Jason saw this. He moved his other hand and slid it under your cheek, gripping under your jaw to fully lift you up. 
He stilled his hips completely once again, causing a pained sound to emanate from your lungs as you clamped down on his cock deep inside of you while he continued to relentlessly work over your tender clit. He gave you a couple of seconds to catch your breath. But you were so cock dumb that you had to be reminded of the goal. 
“Come on, baby.” He encouraged you, pressing his lips to your cheek that he wasn’t holding onto. “Say ‘thank you’.” 
“Thank you.” You easily repeated back, now completely pliant to his desires. “Thank you for-for your cock.” 
“Good girl.” Jason praised you once again. 
Then he began fucking into you once more - it only took a few careful thrusts of his hips and the talent of his fingers on your clit to finally bring your orgasm to life. He shoved his tongue into your mouth as you screamed through it, imitating some sloppy version of a kiss while you flailed and creamed on his cock, your body becoming truly boneless and tired as the orgasm rocked you. 
When it was finished, he was still throbbing hard inside of you, and you let out a whine of disappointment. You were absolutely dead tired now, and you couldn’t even think of how much energy it would take to finish him off. Mister ‘Twice In A Sunday’ could last quite a long time, and that didn’t exactly work for you in that moment. 
“You can go to sleep now, babe.” He whispered into your ear. “I’ll clean you up when I’m done.” 
He began thrusting into you once more, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift closed. 
It ended up being a good night for both of you.
...
If you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.
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dfortrafalgar · 2 months
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Special Delivery
(Sanji x Fem!Reader- Offscreen)
Sanji reaches out to Zeff for the first time in years.
I wrote this many, many months ago now, and it was the first fic i posted anonymously on AO3. I got a few requests after it was originally posted to write a second part, which I eventually did!
You can read Part 2 here! Original AO3 link
(I figured I should let my blog breathe a little in between the really heavy and emotional Law fic im writing, and what better way to cool down than some sanji fluff <3)
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A sharp squawk awoke Red-Leg Zeff from his daze. With a grumpy expression and a low grunt, he peered towards the direction of the sound.
A messenger coo was seated on the railing of the Baratie's upper deck next to where Zeff stood slouched over with his forearms leaning against the wooden support. It cocked its head to the side as if it was deconstructing Zeff's appearance before reaching into its pouch and procuring a parchment envelope. Zeff found it strange. Messenger coos only usually delivered the newspapers or the latest bounty reports, very rarely were they put in charge of personalized letters. It must have been paid off by whoever wanted this delivered.
The gruff man took the parchment from the beak of the bird and watched as it took back off into the air, leaving a few molted white feathers behind in its wake. He looked at the envelope.
All it said on the front, in very elegant handwriting, was "Captain Zeff." He flipped the paper around, revealing a wax stamp holding the opening down, which he peeled off with a calloused thumb.
Tucked neatly inside the envelope was a white piece of paper, tri-folded over itself. Zeff slipped the paper out, unfolding it to reveal the written contents of the letter. The penmanship was impeccable, and the ink was very sleek. He knew immediately it was from Sanji, not many other pirates had handwriting as good as his. He had completely lost track of how many years it had been since the curly-browed boy left with that ragtag group of pirates to sail to the Grand Line, but Zeff had every single one of his bounty posters. He'd never admit it, but they were tacked up on the wall of his sleeping quarters. Every time Sanji's bounty increased, Zeff felt pride swell in his heart.
"How are you doing, you old geezer. It's been a little too long since we've had any contact, so I thought I'd write to you just to see how you've been. You're no slouch, I'm sure you've been keeping up with the world's events over the past however-many years. Do the Marines even bother to keep sending our bounty posters to the Baratie anymore? Well, regardless, I'm sure you can read right through me. I can't deny it, I miss you, old man. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life, and such a huge part of that is thanks to you and the guys back on that old cruiser. Every recipe I try to make, I imagine you screaming in my ear and telling me that it tastes like shit. Some days I really wish I could be back there, but most of the time I'm joyful. Life has been really, really good. A few years ago, I met someone. Last year, we got married, and soon after our lives changed so drastically. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, and she's as sweet as an angel. I mean it, too. I know you'd probably think something along the lines of me playing up my affections again just because she's a pretty woman, but I mean it. You'd love her, Zeff. Living as a pirate is the most stressful thing anyone could ever do, but she makes every day worth it. The crew was discussing the possibility of returning to the East Blue a bit ago, and when we do, I'm going to introduce you to her. I've spent the last years talking all about you, how you taught me everything I know about cooking, and I can tell she's just as excited as I am to finally see you. This letter's gone on long enough and I don't want to use up all of Nami's paper.
-- Sanji"
Zeff felt a lump in the back of his throat. Sanji had grown into such a fine young man, eloquent with his words and his feelings. He knew how big of a deal it was for the boy to be so honest and open. But one thing in the letter caught him off guard. What did he mean by, "Soon after our lives changed drastically."?
Zeff peered into the envelope, where another, smaller envelope was tucked inside. He almost didn't see it. Pulling it out, he held the letter and original envelope in between his fingers while he opened the second. Sanji was thorough with his packaging, that's for sure.
Inside, there were three photographs printed on thin, matted paper. The first was of Sanji and you, the wife he wrote about in his letter, taken by someone else holding the camera. Sanji had his arm around you, holding you against him, and you had your face nuzzled into his neck. His other hand held a cigarette away from the two of you, like he was in the middle of telling a story. The two of you were smiling brighter than the sun, Sanji's eyes completely closed with the motion of laughter, and yours creased, your irises looking up towards him.
The second photo made Zeff's eyes water. A photo of you and Sanji on the deck of the Sunny, exchanging rings. Sanji was wearing a sleek navy blue tuxedo, while you were wearing a gorgeous white ballgown. For pirates, you cleaned up phenomenally. He could just make out tears in Sanji's eyes as the photo displayed you sliding a band onto his finger. A skeleton with poofy hair stood between the two of you, which Zeff found a little odd, but he chuckled at the absurdity of it all.
Zeff flipped to the last photo.
The tears that were welling in his eyes from the previous image finally slid down his cheeks in heavy, salty droplets. His lip quivered.
Sanji sat in a chair, beaming down at a bundle of cloth held gently in his arm. He was crying in this photo as well, and was reaching a finger over the top of the bundle, where a smaller hand was reaching outwards to grab onto it. A small glimpse of blonde hair could be made out from under the cloth securing the baby tightly. On the back of the film, Sanji wrote the birth date and the name of the baby.
Zeff used a sleeve to wipe his blubbering eyes. His lips quivered, but he couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face.
Was he allowed to call himself a grandfather now? He figured it was only appropriate.
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buckyalpine · 9 months
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Fic idea - Bucky’s family & time travel
You know how I keep proposing ideas, then adding it to my wips and then I stare at it while it stares at me. Heres another. I'm so sorry. Swear this will end in fluff, you'll just suffer in between. So imagine the most angstiest angst where Bucky gets married and has a child with his sweetheart before he’s sent to war. He's loved her his whole life and now they have a little one together; nothing could be more perfect. He promises he'll be back safe and sound with a kiss to her forehead and plenty of kisses for his baby girl.
Until Hydra captures him and turns him into the Winter Soldier. His first mission is to eliminate any familial ties. He doesn't feel anything when he pulls the trigger. He's successful and carries out hundreds of others kills, each searing itself in some part of his brain but he's constantly wiped before he can piece anything together.
But then he's rescued and he has to pick up the broken fragments of his memories and its too much of a fog for him to understand. At the very least he has his best friend by his side again and he's slowly starting to remember.
His first question is about his sweet y/n and his little girl.
His happiness is short-lived when Steve doesn't say anything. Bucky doesn't understand why he avoids his gaze, why he suddenly looks so distraught. No amount of pleading or begging works, his best friend doesn't breathe a word, asking Bucky to please let things be.
To learn to live with the way things were.
He can't do that though. He needs answers. When the team is away on a mission, he find a way to get into his records that SHIELD kept on him, wondering if they ever had anything on file about his life before he was captured. Every single detail about who he was before the war to after is written with details and camera footage.
He doesn't move from where he's seated, a blank expression on his face while everyone returns. Steve approaches Bucky first, worried about why the soldier looked so pale as if he'd aged 10 years in the past 3 days.
"I killed them?" His broken whisper of a voice breaks Steve's heart when he sees the file Bucky was looking at, a picture of him, his little girl on his shoulders and wife all smiling at the camera. The sheet he's clutching onto has their names along with deceased written write across the sheet.
Bucky is inconsolable.
His dreams are no longer about others he has killed. He's flooded with memories of her; the soft ivory dress she wore on their wedding day, the baby pink lace she had on when he undressed her that same night, the scent of her perfume, the sound of her laugh, the kicks of their baby, the sound of her happy squeals when he blew raspberries onto her chubby cheeks.
Those happy memories are quickly replaced with her pleading for him to remember. To just remember at least once.
Jamie, it's me, please, m'your y/n, Bucky, don't-
D-daddy?
Baby, go to your room-Bucky no-
Mama!
Please, not Bella, James, you love her baby, you love us- please remember me-
I-I love you
The pain of Bucky's cries are too much for anyone to handle. They're a different type of sadness. So much so, even Tony's starting to worry when he doesn't see Bucky for days on end. He begs to be put back in cyro, to have his memories wiped, to have his brain fried, anything to forget. He doesn't care about the pain, he just wants it all to end.
Imagine theres a mission that involves time travel. Steve and Sam stand on the platform, ready to enter the portal, setting their timers for a specific date in the past. When Sam catches Steve adding another date without telling him, he quietly adds it on his suit as well, piecing what the Captain plans on doing.
The mission takes a little longer than anticipated. Steve is surprised when Sam is beside him when he travels back to the 40's, the both of them now with a new mission in mind, alternating the future be damned. If they had a chance to give Bucky the life he deserved again, they would do it. Bucky doesn't ask for much. In fact he never asked for anything. He deserved this.
Imagine the shock everyone gets when the portal opens up at the compound and there are now 4 people on the platform. Steve, Sam, a woman and a little girl no older than 2. She's dressed in a simple dotted dress, still wearing an apron around her waist while her baby stays clinging around her, tucking her face into her mommas neck.
Imagine the way Bucky would collapse with her when he sees his family again, crying endlessly being able to hold his wife and child, something he thought he'd lost forever. Everyone gives the little family some privacy while he hugs and kisses them, cuddling them to his chest, still right on the lab floor. Explanations for everything can wait, right now he can't believe he has his angels back.
Imagine the way they'd fall asleep that night, sleeping in bed for once, now that he's reunited with his y/n and his Bella.
imagine the endless love he'd make to her while Bella spends time with her God Fathers, aka all the Avenger men.
Imagine she's pregnant soon after and they can continue being a family in the present, doing all the things they always dreamed of.
Anyway, just a thought.
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natailiatulls07 · 8 months
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please more leclerc!reader with her brothers !!
Let her go
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Arthur Leclerc Charles Leclerc Lorenzo Leclerc Pascale Leclerc & Leclerc!reader
Summary - Y/n is getting married and her older brothers is learning to let her go
Warning - Herve Leclercs death, poor translation of French
A/n - I know I haven't finished the golden trio but look I've been wanting to post a written fic for a while now and I have seen so many brothers first look tiktoks so thats what you're getting today!! 😚
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2017
Herve Leclerc was on his last days when he called his three sons to his hospital room. "Papa? Is everything okay?" Lorenzo asked of his dying father.
"My three sons as you know I'm nearing my last day and I only have one thing to ask of you..." The three brother surrounded their fathers bed, Charles and Lorenzo sitting in seats on each side of the bed with Arthur sitting at the feet of the hospital bed. "I want you three to step up and take my place in protecting, caring and loving your sister"
Herve adored his sons equally but he had a different sort of adoration for his youngest. Since her birth, he has always thought of her as an angel. "Of course...we'll do anything you ask of us Papa" Charles answered his fathers orders, alike their father they also felt that level of undying adoration for their younger sister.
-
Charles had sat Y/n down on the plush couch in their Monte Carlo childhood home. "Chérie...Papa died last night" It broke the twenty year old's heart to see his sister find out about their fathers death. He could see her eyes gloss over and fill with salty tears.
He took her into his arms as she started to sob. "He loved you so much, and he said he will watch over us always..." He could feel himself breaking down at his sisters reaction. But Charles knew it was coming.
The twenty year old Monégasques knew it wouldn't be easy for anyone, not for their mother, not for him, Lorenzo, Arthur or her. But they would do what they always did, push through and come out stronger.
-
2023
Waking up today, all three of the Leclerc brothers knew it would be both a hard and joyous day for them. It was the day they would have to give away their sister, the sister they promised to their father they would cherish, protect and love in his place. But today they'd need to give her away to the love of her life.
They were staying in the childhood home, back in their childhood bedrooms. When planning her wedding with her fiancé, Y/n insisted they have it in Monte Carlo. Of course her fiancé agreed, knowing how she wanted to be close to her late father on her wedding day.
Getting out of his bed, Charles made his way down to the kitchen where Pascale and Lorenzo were sat eating breakfast. “Bonjour” He announced his presence before making a start on his coffee.
“So where is the bride?” Turning to look at his mother, Charles wondered how Y/n was feeling this special morning.
There was a audible sigh from Pascale. “Well your sister couldn’t sleep last night so I imagine she is currently still sleeping” Both Lorenzo and Charles had concerned looks on their faces.
Noticing their concern, Pacale continued "She couldn't sleep because she was too excited. Don't worry no cold feet" She knew every single one of her children, Pascale knew all too well that her three sons would be overly worried for their sister.
The two oldest sons just nodded, concern evidently gone.
-
There was a knock on the front door. Charles, who was talking with Arthur on the sofa, got up to answer the door. Behind the door stood, the maid of honour and the rest of the bridal party. "Hello Ladies, how can I help you?" Charles joked before stepping aside letting them in.
"We're here for the special bride, where might she be?" The maid of honour asked as she looked around the open plan kitchen and living room where Pascale, Arthur and Lorenzo currently sat. After hearing the question, Pascale quickly pointed up the stairs to which the excited party followed.
After watching the girls running upstairs, Charles moved to sit back down on the couch. As he sat down, all the Leclerc brothers and Pascale could hear was the sounds of excitement.
-
It had been a few hours since the bridal party arrived and everyone had now gotten ready. Standing on the balcony was Arthur, Lorenzo and Charles, all facing away from the balcony doors and more towards the Monte Carlo harbour.
Y/n insisted they do a first look for the brothers, so that’s why she was stood just behind her three older brothers. “Maman are you filming?” She asked of her mother who stood off to the side filming. Pascale nodded. “Okay, you guys can turn around now”
Turning around, each brother now faced their Y/n. She was dressed in her long white gown, hair done and makeup perfected. Tears welled up in their eyes, they could remember the day she was born and how they watched her grow up into the incredible woman.
“Oh chérie tu es si belle” Arthur was the first pipe up from their stunned state, walking towards her before bring her into a careful hug.
Soon enough Lorenzo followed, hugging his sister. “Je t'aime tellement petite princesse” Even now when she was just about to get married, he still used his nickname for her. The same nickname he has used since her birth.
After stepping aside, Charles was the last one to break his stunned state. “Cha Cha…?” Y/n called out for him, everyone knew he was the closest to her, that he loved her the most.
“Mon rayon de soleil…” Finally he stepped forward, taking her hands in his. “Je suis si fier de toi” Through his tears was a soft smile the same smile he had when Y/n started high school, when Y/n graduated and when Y/n was born.
The next question meant so much to Charles, even more than anything else. “Cha Cha…m'accompagner dans l'allée?” She was asking him to take their fathers place and walk her down the aisle before giving her away.
In that moment, he really felt like he had accomplished the one thing his father asked of him and that was to take his father place once he was gone.
Nodding aggressively, Charles crashed Y/n into a hug. “Oui oui oui bien sûr!”
-
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kausstar · 1 year
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let's read and get so high we can't recognize the real world around us !
❥ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐒 (in order) ★ slashers. stranger things. the peaky blinders. criminal minds. euphoria. the punisher ˎˊ˗
smut, angst and fluff included.
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˚₊⊹ 20/20 VISION ✧ ethan landry. ── @echnated !
[ sfw ] okokok! reader x lalala! ethan.
loved the concept, writing and the fic.
˚₊⊹ CLASSMATE CHARLIE WALKER ✧ charlie walker. ── @lithiumfae !
[ sfw - bit of spice ] obsession.
the obsession with her voice is literally everything to me because my voice is rather… man like.
˚₊⊹ DAMN, BOY! SLOW DOWN! ✧ thomas hewitt. ── @vampiremillk !
[ nsfw ] chubby black reader. breeding kink. overstimulation.
i just love pussydrunk! thomas :))
˚₊⊹ SOUTHERN STYLE CREAMPIE ✧ thomas hewitt. ── @/vampiremillk !
[ nsfw ] female chubby reader. breeding kink.
mwahhhh. the whole thing at my legs shaking.
˚₊⊹ NO.1 AUNTIE ✧ steve harrington. ── @erin-bo-berin !
[ sfw ] single mom! reader. steve x single mom! reader. robin x single mom! reader (platonic).
i can literally imagine robin being the funniest auntie alive and i love this.
˚₊⊹ DEVILISHLY HANDSOME MAN ✧ thomas shelby. ── @toomanyfandomsallatonce !
[ sfw ] lots of flirting. kinda dirty flirting. eating.
the flirting throughout had me kicking my feet in the air.
˚₊⊹ EAT YOU OUT- I MEAN ✧ spencer reid. ── @ddejavvu !
[ sfw - bit of spice ] spencer being a complete reck.
the post should say it for its self. just beautiful.
˚₊⊹ HOT WIFE ✧ spencer reid. ── @radiant-reid !
[ sfw ] hot wife! reader x spencer reid.
them sliding it under the table is EVERYTHING that i never knew i needed.
˚₊⊹ MESS OF MINE ✧ aaron hotchner. ── @hotchgirlsummer !
[ sfw ] female! bimbo! reader.
the cutest of this fic makes me wanna just die. i am in love with him. i believe it was written by gods.
˚₊⊹ DO YOU LIKE HER ✧ elliot. ── @eunoiathewriter !
[ sfw ] talks of smoking weed and drugs (duh, it’s euphoria).
i just loved it. thank you for writing this.
˚₊⊹ SHOW ME LOVE ✧ frank castle. ── @captainmarvels !
[ sfw - angst-ish ] insecurities.
so fluffy and adorable i would blush if i could…
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TO WRITERS ! thank you for being here and for your wonderful writing. your writing is not only people of color friendly but also beautiful, and really appreciated by everyone. i hope you have a beautiful day, because you deserve it. <33
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avisisisis · 1 month
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Fuck it. Invincible Tumblr
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Wake up to see the aliens attacking again. God fucking damn it.
❤️ justamonstergirl Follow
Imagine how the aliens feel after seeing you
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Get better insults. You won't be insulting anyone that way
❤️ justamonstergirl Follow
Nahhh. Don't need to. You already humiliate yourself every time you open your mouth
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Your entire existence is an insult
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☪️ superherofan Follow
i forget that superheroes have social media and regularly use it.... invincible has Tumblr holy shit
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
Boo.
☪️ superherofan Follow
OMG??
#HI MR INVINCIBLE SIR #I SWEAR ALL MY A/B/O FICS WERE WRITTEN OUT OF LOVE
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🌙 artemislover Follow
Can't believe I have to say this, but can you guys please stop making Omni-Man x Immortal theories?!?!
Ik you think the idea of them having been romantically involved is funny, but c'mon, people
It is true that there should be more openly queer superheroes, but the fact that there are people who genuinely believe they fucked is wild...
Besides, we have to stop following the lives of superheroes that closely. They deserve to get some privacy too! They're still people
Also, didn't Omni-Man once mention his wife?? And son?? Shipping him w a man when he's clearly straight and in an established relationship is stupid
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
These are all great points but they've definitely fucked
🌙 artemislover Follow
INVINCIBLE?????
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🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
Godddddd. My parents just do not know what privacy is, PLEASE STOP HAVING SEX WHEN I MIGHT BE HOME... please you're killing me
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
Wait, shit, wrong blog...
🌭 hotdog Follow
shocking revelation: invincible has parents
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
??? Of course I have parents. Where'd you think I came from?
🌭 hotdog Follow
Honestly i thought you were from mars
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
from MARS????
#i'm not martian??? i don't even look martian #do i look martian?
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💃 thedancingquinn Follow
ATOM EVE LIKES MY FAVORITE BAND????
🚫 ohgodpleaseno Follow
really? How do you know?
💃 thedancingquinn Follow
Okay quick storytime
My friends and I wanted to go to see this band live for a LONG time, so we saved up money for years until we could finally afford it, right?
Well, the day we finally get to see them live, I look up and I see Atom Eve, just. Flying there. Above the crowd
She was singing, apparently very loudly and she looked like she was having sm fun. She saw me and waved!!! Atom Eve!!!! Waved at me!!!!!!!
🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow
:)
💃 thedancingquinn Follow
WAIT R YOU THE ACTUAL ATOM EVE
🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow
Yeah. Check my Insta, there's a link to this blog!
💃 thedancingquinn Follow
AFKFHFHFHFJDJDJDJDDJDHFHSUEUEJEJ
#ATOM EVE TALKED TO ME!!!!!!
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🤖 officialrobot Follow
Today, Monster Girl told me to download this app and create a blog — I did not think it was necessary, but she insisted.
I decided to listen to her. She was very persuasive.
I will be sharing things about my day, as she has told me to do. Expect to hear from me after this.
👀 eyaseyaseays Follow
you really think we're gonna believe you're the real Robot?? C'mon.
‼️ notafurryyet Follow
Dude, RP exists. Let people live their lives in peace
❤️ justamonstergirl Follow
This is so funny
‼️ notafurryyet Follow
That's... The real monster girl. Replying to a fake Robot post...
Dude I think he's real
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🎉 partyshitter Follow
The new Guardians are a fucking shit show. Are we seriously meant to believe they're going to protect us? Really??
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Oh Id like to see YOU almost get killed every single fucking day without one fucking break only for asholes like you to shit on us like that. We almost die every single day!!! Were the ones geting our hands dirty not you
🤖 officialrobot Follow
I'd* assholes* We're*
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Your supposed to be with me in this one
🤖 officialrobot Follow
You're*
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☪️ somanykates Follow
The Immortal kinda... 👀
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
WHAT
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💥 explosionsbaby Follow
I cant believe she cheated on me... what a bitch
🧬 atomevesss Follow
😐
☪️ somanykates Follow
We're going to have a fucking talk, Rex.
💥 explosionsbaby Follow
Shit
🍐 shrinkshrek Follow
You had this one coming buddy
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🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
The fact that Miles Morales canonically reads JJK, though...
🔫 shootmeplease Follow
INVINCIBLE LIKES MARVEL?? AND JJK???
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
Why is everyone always surprised when I like something? I don't get it
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🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
:(
🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow
I cannot have just found out you're still alive through Tumblr...
🧬 atomevesss☑️☑️ Follow
Seriously though. Are you okay now? I know you're not mentally, after the whole Chicago thing w your dad, but at least physically?
🌟 notsovinciblenow Follow
I'll survive, I guess
💔 thisishowtobeah Follow
INVINCIBLE?? It is such a relief to see you're still here after the whole Chicago ordeal Mr Invincible
📸 definitelyinsanebaby Follow
Yeah maybe don't remind him of that rn??
💔 thisishowtobeah Follow
OH SHIT I'M SO SORRY
#I AM SO SO SO SORRY #omg i hope you're doing good mr invincible :(((
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teejaystumbles · 27 days
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Against all odds (part 8)
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7
(Whenever I put this on AO3 it will probably be all one chapter and the longest single chapter fic I've ever written lol) (continues straight after Part 7)
Shame the stranger won’t want to visit the White Horse again any time soon, he thinks as he changes into his sleep clothes. It’s still a decent pub even if Hob heard when he last visited that they want to tear the place down for new buildings. It’s a shame, truly. Hob likes the old Inn. It’s one of the few constants in his life, the most important right after his stranger.
He lies down with a sigh and stares at the ceiling, trying to recall how the place has changed through time. He falls asleep before he can reach the 15th century.
--
Hob dreams again of the White Horse. It is 1389 and he is sitting and drinking with his mates of old, joking about Death being stupid.
A man clad all in black with a face as white as the moon steps silently up to their table. Hob’s mates ask him who he is but the man stays silent and doesn’t acknowledge them, his pitch-black eyes fixed on Hob. Hob stares. He knows him. Would know him anywhere. This is his friend, who he’s been waiting for for a very, very long time.
He ignores the others and they fade into obscurity. He says, awe and wonder clear in his voice and face, “You came.”
“We have an appointment, Hob Gadling. Of course I came.”
“But you didn’t- you didn’t want to meet…here. Any more. Am I wrong?” Hob feels confused. He knows what he’s saying is right, but it doesn’t make any sense, here and now where he has never met this man before. The stranger inclines his head.
“In your dreams I do not feel hesitant to visit this place. It is yours, and therefore a pleasant space to be in.”
Hob frowns.
“Mine? This is your place, my friend. Our place.”
“No. This is your dream of the White Horse Inn, Hob, and every human’s who has lived and visited it. But yours especially. It is not mine,” his friend says almost wistfully, “Neither here, nor in the Waking.”
“Then I'll find us a new place, or I'll build one!” Hob exclaims and jumps up. “A new Inn. One where you'll feel comfortable, a bright place, with a garden and a tree out front and sunny spots to sit and talk, or be quiet. Somewhere that is ours, yours and mine.”
“You would? For me?”
“Aye. I would do anything for you, my friend. My lord.”
Hob tastes the unfamiliar title on his tongue, repeats it again and finds it to feel perfectly right for his stranger, especially when he sees the sparkle in the man's eyes at being addressed as such. “My lord…” The words Hob knows he had been tempted to say on this day in 1389 roll out of him like a rushing river he cannot stop- 
“I’d swear fealty to you, if you’d accept it, and call you my liege. My king,” and he sinks to one knee before the one who rules him.
--
Dream gasps as Hob’s words hit him with the force of a wave crashing into him. He vibrates with ambiguous emotion as Hob smoothly sinks to one knee before him, brown doe eyes looking up at Dream with pure honesty and - love. It’s clearly love that’s shining out of Hob’s eyes and Dream feels the flames at his mantle’s hem lick higher and higher.
What is this human doing, offering him first his blood and now his fealty?
“Oh. Hob,” he rasps, aghast. He doesn’t know what to say. He accepted the first offering. Would it be wise to decline the second? There is magic in the number Three, if he is not careful this will turn into a dangerous affair indeed. If this continues Hob Gadling could be bound to him forever. Excitement rushes through him at the thought.
His.
Someone who'd willingly be Dream’s!
He cannot do this. He mustn’t. Hob may love him, or a version of him he thinks he knows, but Hob is someone who needs to be his own man. Dream cannot imagine him as a vassal, a servant, of anybody, least of all Dream’s.
He takes a step closer and puts a hand on Hob’s head. The man gazes hopefully up at him, a smile on his face. Dream feels his chest tighten.
“You honour me, old friend. Yet I would not rob you of your freedom. You are, and should always be, your own lord and master, subservient to none. I do not wish to be your king.”
Hob’s face falls for a moment and Dream prepares himself for Hob’s disappointment. Then the man at his feet suddenly smiles again and grabs Dream’s hand, cradling it gently before laying a kiss on it.
“Shame. I think it’s too late for you to refuse, my lord, as I have already made my choice. You need not acknowledge me as yours, I will still fight for you and defend you if you are in need. If not a servant, then I am your loyal ally, and I will still offer you anything that is mine.”
Dream shivers and gapes at Hob, who winks cheekily at him and kisses Dream’s hand again. Hastily Dream takes a step back and cradles his hand against his chest.
“You do not know what you promise, Hob. You have to be careful-”
“Careful? Hah!” Hob barks a laugh and gets up from the floor. He claps Dream on the shoulder as if they’ve always been in the habit of touching each other so casually and Dream flinches, stunned.
“Sorry to say this, old friend, but when it comes to you I have never been very careful. Don’t think I can start now.”
Hob shrugs and turns to the table to grab a tankard of ale and a glass of red wine, strangely modern in the mediaeval surroundings of the old tavern, and thrusts it into Dream’s hand. Then Hob toasts him with another wink.
“To our long and lasting friendship, my lord. My friend.”
Dream, perplexed, raises his glass in turn and they both drink. Hob grins happily at him and Dream feels his cheeks flush. He vanishes the wine with a frustrated gesture. Leave it to Hob Gadling to stump him and make him accept a second gift despite himself. He needs to think about this.
He murmurs, “This dream is over,” and leaves Hob to his sleep.
--
Hob wakes up with the feeling of having dreamt something nice, but he can't remember more than that he was in the old White Horse. Snatches of a conversation, of making a toast, come back to him, but he doesn't know who he was even talking to. No matter. It's still better than no dreams at all. He feels much more rested after sleeping since the dreams returned. Seems like his brain is very grateful.
He gets up and throws a glance over at his desk. The journal is gone. Hob blinks. Then he grins and goes to get ready for his day.
His stranger has taken the book! Now it’s just waiting for him to return it. Oh, and come up with a new place to meet, he supposes, while he shaves and slicks his hair back for another day at the agency. Hob sighs. He really needs to get another life. He’s sick and tired of his job and this look. He likes his flat but now that his stranger and him have a new way to communicate, and his friend has no interest in entering the White Horse any time soon, maybe Hob can just up and move to another town for a bit.
He finishes his routine and goes to put the kettle on. He hasn’t taken a holiday in a while. Maybe it’s time for a break at least, if not a reinvention of Hob Gadling. He can come up with what to do next and focus on his stranger. He seems to desperately need the company of a friend, even if he won’t say it outright, and Hob wants to be that friend. 
After breakfast Hob drives to work to finish up some business before he calls in some time off for a family emergency. ‘Against all odds’ plays on the radio and Hob sighs. He listens for a while as his Porsche crawls through London traffic, humiliated by the memory of putting these lyrics down to express his feelings in that first journal entry addressed to his friend. He switches stations and lands on the other extreme - Kylie’s ‘I should be so lucky’ cheerfully hits him right in the heart again. “It's a crazy situation, You always keep me waiting, Because it's only make believe, And I would come a-running, To give you all my loving, If one day, you would notice me-” “Christ,” Hob growls and turns the radio off. Just one more day. He just needs to keep his head for a few more hours, finish off some editing, talk to his bosses and then he’ll be free to wallow and pine for as long as he wants. “Get it together, Gadling,” he hisses at himself and changes gears as the light turns finally green. It’s not like his stranger is not talking to him. He’s back. Everything’s fine. Better than fine, even. He shouldn’t be hung up about things that will never change, he should focus on all the positive developments. His friend wants to meet him again, so Hob should focus on figuring out where they could meet. A park would probably be best, he thinks.
Part 9
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faulterge1st · 1 month
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Your Thoughts Aren't Word
To celebrate the day of the weed, I written an angsty Nikto x reader fic while I was high-fiving the sun in the clouds. 4/20 motivates you to do great things.
I love Nikto. He may not be my favorite, but he's the character I depend on when no one seems to want to make content of my faves. Keep in mind, I have a different spin on him than portrayed by most of the fandom. God, he's emotionally unstable <33
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You were sure that Nikto didn't loved you.
All of it meant nothing, you think. Every forehead touch he gives before leaving for a mission, every offered cigarette that has been kissed by his scarred lips, every embrace he initiates in his sleep because he's too prideful to hug you awake... They weren't full of love. You were convinced that he felt nothing for you. Every single thing he'd done for you and to you, all of it was so that he could maintain you. It was all just to entertain you, his little pet that he goes to whenever he was down for the count and needed something or someone who gives him kisses for his scars and a warm bed to invade for the week.
He was using you, you think. You've seen his many moments where he would often get into relationships with other soldiers, only leave them high and dry when they least expected it. This was before the two of you started dating, of course. You couldn't imagine him in bed with someone else while you were together without your chest aching, but you wouldn't doubt it.
You're just like all his past lovers, you think. You were bound to be those people he fooled with shared liquors and a drunken kiss. You were going to be left on the floor of his room, cold and wondering where he was, whilst he drove away wiping off the ghosts of your kisses, warmed by the embers of his cigarette. You believed that firmly, because you saw it first hand. But for whatever reason, you didn't leave. You stayed even when you thought that he was going to leave without a word, leaving his things behind just to give you false hope that he was ever going to return.
You'll love him, even when he doesn't care, you think. Nikto many not care about you, or for you. He may treasure his guns, his hyena, his money more than you, but you will always cherish the moments when he took his time to make you feel loved. He was many things to you, which was why he was too much for you. But you can handle it. You think you can. You can take it whenever he doesn't appear for months, not a single message nor hint that he still remembers you. You can take it when he seems closer to his team, his fellow soldiers than you are with him. His conversations with his team was always longer than the amount of time his arm was placed around your shoulder, but you can handle it. The look he gives you when he's too drunk to put up his aloof act gave you the strength to keep going on. His tight hugs he gives you when he's tired encourages you. His lingering touches keep you going, even when hasn't uttered a single "I love you" to you before. Even when he doesn't seem to love you, you can take it, you think.
But, he thinks he does love you. All those things that hinted at his desire was full of love. His hesitation to express affection was thrown away just so that he could show you that he's in love with you without a word.
He's just scared to say "I love you," he thinks. He doesn't want to scare you away. He doesn't want his scars and his reputation to motivate you in some hypothetical plan to sneak out of his bed and run away in the middle of the night without warning. He's too attached. He's clawing at your back, arms tightened around your torso as he kisses your neck and smells your hair while you sleep. He won't ever let go, not even planning to, not after that paranoid scenario tucked away at the back of his mind.
Your thoughts aren't word, they aren't true. He's desperately in love with you, even when he doesn't show it. You may think that his blank face tells you he's bored of you, but the feeling of his mask pressed against your cheek as he tries to kiss your skin without scaring you off with his scars should've told you everything.
He knows he's in love with you, deeply so, but it's too bad that you're convinced that you've bet on a losing dog.
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toomuchracket · 7 months
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bonfires (flatmate!matty x reader fluff)
day 22 of promptober, and the first full fic i've ever written where these little shits are actually bf and gf. it's bonfire night and you're going to matty's mum's. have fun <3
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"it's weird doing this with you."
matty looks up from his phone, brows knitted together. "what d'you mean?"
"i mean," you swivel to face him, moving your feet from the seat beside you onto the floor and resting your head on your hand. "i used to get the train from manchester to wilmslow all the time. but it was always to see you, never with you. and now… here you are."
your boyfriend (!!) smiles, taking your hand; your heart flutters when you realise he's tracing little lovehearts on the back of it. "it's a good kind of weird, though, yeah?"
"'course it is," you kiss his hand. "i don't have to imagine you and get excited now - i can look at you and do it instead."
matty's cheeks go pink. god, you love it when that happens. "you really used to do that?"
you nod. every time, without fail, you would resolve to focus on the view from the train window as you travelled south, trying to be in the moment and enjoy the peace of the journey, willing the shift from city to town to instil some sort of calm within you as it does for so many other people. but knowing who you were going to see… it always became impossible to stop your thoughts drifting to your best friend, and how in love with him you were - are - and how excited you were to see him. staying calm was never an option when it came to matty. 
it still isn't; the way he looks at you gives you goosebumps, and sends your heart into a frenzy. when matty looks at you, you feel like you're the only two people in the world.
right now, you are. well, you're the only two people in the train carriage, which is basically the same thing, and therefore you're a bit more inclined towards pda with your boyfriend (even thinking about matty with that title makes you giddy) than you would normally be. smiling, you lean across the table and pout your lips; matty presses his own to them immediately, hand coming up to hold your face as he kisses you sweetly. he sighs against your lips. you smile against his. it's perfect.
matty kisses your forehead when he pulls away. "how long have we got left to go, d'you think, sweetheart?"
you reluctantly tear your eyes away from his face long enough to glance out the window, returning to gazing lovingly at him as soon as you register your location. "ten, fifteen minutes?"
"i'd have been at the station by now, waiting for your train to get in," matty smiles fondly at the memory, resting his elbow on the table and his head on his hand. "pacing, outside in the car park. actually, i'd have been there ten minutes before that, and all."
"really? you were there that early?"
"yeah. i'd leave the house as soon as you'd text to tell me you were walking into piccadilly, pretty much."
you giggle. "but why, baby?"
matty shrugs, stroking your cheek with his index finger and smiling when you kiss it. "wanted to be waiting in case you got in early, or something. no fucking way was i going to miss a single second of spending time with you, darlin'."
jesus. you're thankful you're sitting down, because that statement would've damn well swiped the legs from under you - the thought of matty being so sweetly eager to see you, as eager as you were to see him, is heart-breakingly cute.
it's also, however, quite funny. "i can't believe you ever thought a northern train would be early," you laugh, twirling one of your boyfriend's curls around your finger as he rolls his eyes. "but that's really sweet, angel. and, to be honest," you get a bit bashful. "i used to stand at the train door for a full five minutes before we got to wilmslow, just so i could get off as quickly as possible and see you. used to be my favourite sight in the world, you standing waiting for me in that car park."
"oh, sweetheart," matty kisses you again. it's like a reflex for both of you, at this point, smooching whenever you reveal something sweet about all the years you spent (well, wasted) pining over each other; you hope it never stops. he grins cheekily afterwards. "and what's your favourite sight now?"
narcissist. but you love him for it. "this one's pretty good, actually, sitting on a train going home with you. feels like a homecoming for me, too."
"that's fucking adorable, sweetheart, but you cannot say that in front of my mum. she won't let us leave if she hears it."
you smile. "she really misses you, doesn't she?"
"nah, babe, she misses you," matty shakes his head. "that weekend i came up here without you, because you had that exam and couldn't leave london? she was distraught. think she'd rather i'd have stayed in the flat and you came up alone, to be honest."
"bless her. well, we're a package deal now," you kiss your boyfriend's head. "you jump, i jump, jack."
"i'd argue i'm more jess than logan, babe, but yeah."
"oh, you wish," you smirk. "but whatever. the point still stands."
"where you lead, i will follow," matty smiles softly, and you grumble about missing the arguably more obvious gilmore girls reference. "although mum won't complain about that at all - can't believe she fucking cried tears of joy when i told her we were together. she's wanted it for years, apparently."
"so have we, to be fair."
"no, absolutely, but mum's on a completely different level. it's like all her christmases have come at once," matty sighs. "thank christ we're walking to the house. gives us time to prepare for her fawning over us."
"true," you kiss your boyfriend again. "and it'll be nice. like old times, but better."
that assessment of yours proves to be correct from the second you leave the train and wilmslow station. at 2pm on a wednesday, the car park is quiet, and matty uses that as an opportunity to run slightly ahead of you with a "wait there, babe!" - you do as he asks, smiling when he reaches a specific lampost and turns round. you can see his grin from three parking spaces' width away. "alright, my girl, you can come over now."
the déja vu practically sucker-punches you as you oblige. it's impossible to even comprehend how many times you've done this exact walk to this exact lampost to meet the exact same boy, smiling the exact same smile he always has upon seeing you.
(fuck, you were so oblivious to his feelings for you. you fucking idiot.)
"hi," you wink as you near matty. "that was a cute little exercise in nostalgia, baby."
"i'm glad you think so, darlin'," matty pulls you into a hug - again, the same as he always did. your body reacts the way it always has, too, muscles relaxing and nerves reducing and serotonin levels skyrocketing; you're convinced your face must be gormless in contentment when it ends. "but now i'd like to do something new, if you don't mind. although i s'pose it's nostalgic for me, given that i thought about it every time i met you here."
"ooh, ok. what?"
matty smiles. "this."
his hands gently meet your jaw, and your lips meet a beat later. the kiss doesn't last long, but it's long enough for your hands to make their way onto matty's waist and his tongue to slip inside your mouth, and long enough for you to be able to tell how much he loves you just from the way he kisses you. although, it would be impossible for you not to know that fact already - he only tells you upwards of twenty times a day.
it's such a good kiss that you're actually woozy when it ends, blinking rapidly in an attempt to stop your head spinning. "wow."
"that good?" comes the response, accompanied - naturally - by a smirk.
you glare at your boyfriend, who only laughs and takes your hand. "m'sorry, baby, couldn't resist. thank you for letting me be self-indulgent. shall we?"
he holds out his hand. you take it, and after a quick kiss to your temple, the two of you begin the familiar walk to matty's old house. like him being on the train with you, it initially feels weird to have matty hold your hand as you go, but the feeling doesn't last long - by the time you're halfway there, joyfully pointing out places you went together and houses of his classmates you crashed parties in, his hand in yours feels like the most natural thing in the world. it's only been a month since the two of you finally got together, but you've both taken to the romantic, couple-y side of life together with relish and ease; despite your respective reservations about getting together and potentially ruining your friendship, it's all been so smooth that you think both you and matty would say that it almost feels like your relationship was predestined, fated, meant to be.
others would and will say the same, including matty's own mother, who throws the front door open so hard when she sees you walking hand-in-hand up the path that the handle chips the brickwork on the wall. she winces at the scraping sound it makes. "oh, bugger."
matty snorts. "nice one, mum. excited to see us?"
"less of the lip, matthew. hi, darling!" denise hugs you, before embracing her son. she steps back, smiling as widely as you've ever seen her, taking in the sight of you and matty and his arm slung sweetly around your waist. "oh, it really is lovely to see the two of you like this. together at last! i always said you'd be a perfect couple, didn't i, matty? anyway, come in and get settled "
you turn to your boyfriend, whose cheeks have rose-tinted at his mother's words. smiling, you kiss one of said rosy cheeks, and follow denise inside. she's still talking, about guests "already starting to come over for tonight, so i'll leave the two of you to your own devices for now. i imagine you'll be a bit tired from the travel - and from studying, for you, darling, i assume? i'm very proud of you, though, smart girl. you know, i've been going around telling everyone 'oh, my daughter in law is training as a solicitor', she's very accomplished, and they're all so-"
"mum," matty interjects, not unkindly. "we really are a bit tired. talk later, yeah?"
"oh, of course. sorry, sorry," denise waves you off. "looking forward to a good girlie catchup later, darling!"
"me too!" you shout, as matty pulls you down the hall, up the stairs, and into his old bedroom. he face plants onto his bed with an "ughhhhhhh", and you giggle. "happy to be home?"
"mixed emotions, actually," matty rolls over to look at you. "because, on one hand, mum's stressing me out already, calling you her daughter in law…"
"i thought that was quite sweet, baby."
"...but, on the other hand," he opens his arms out, and you climb onto the bed and into them without a second thought. matty's hands find your hips almost immediately. "i've got you on my lap in my old bed. nothing could be better."
an idea pops into your head - it's twisted of you, you know it, but you can't resist. grabbing the hem of your jumper, you pull it over your head and throw the fabric to the floor, leaving your top half bare save the dark red bra you know is your boyfriend's favourite. his breath catches in his throat, and you smile, saccharine. "slight improvement?"
"you-" matty lies down and covers his face with his hands, breathing heavily. when he looks back up at you, though, he's smiling (albeit slightly defeatedly). "you knew that would get me, you minx."
"i suspected, yes."
"oh, she's cheeky," matty smacks your still-covered bum, sitting up quickly to kiss you and muffle the moan that escapes your lips when his hand makes contact. "i'll have to do something about that."
sheer glee overcomes you. "now?"
matty softens, tenderly tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "no, sweetheart. i want to take my time with you, and that's time we don't have tonight. but," his lips kiss up your neck, and hover over your ear. "i'm going to fuck you in this bed before we go back to london at the weekend, i promise. sound good?"
"very," you nod, kissing matty's forehead. "do we still have time to kiss for a bit now, though?"
your boyfriend checks the alarm clock on the bedside table, a digital radio thing that used to blast system of a down in lieu of an actual alarm. "one really long one."
"fine by me," you say, hooking a finger under matty's chin and pulling him to you. he rolls the two of you over so you're under him, bringing his hands to hold your face as he kisses you.
the pda from earlier was nice, but you far prefer these private making out sessions; the kisses are far more passionate, sloppier and dirtier and desperate. matty tangles his hands in your hair, and kisses like he's trying to devour you. quite frankly, you'd let him.
actually, the way he looks when he pulls away from your lips (your foreheads stay touching, a tender contrast to the passion of the kiss), beautiful eyes wide and staring adoringly at you, cheeks flushed, lips kissed and bitten cherry-red? you'd let him do anything to you.
god, you still can't believe he's yours.
and he's quite set on showing that you're his, it seems; after exchanging "i love you"s, matty peels himself off both you and the bed to rifle through the wardrobe, uttering a quiet but excited "fuck yeah" when he comes across something. 
he turns, and you see he's holding a familiar blue hoodie with a yellow design. "d'you wanna wear this tonight? it's quite cosy."
"are you serious?" you gawk at him, remembering several occasions of having to coax matty out of actually hitting people should they dare even touch that hoodie. "that's, like, your most prized possession. you didn't even want to bring it to the flat in case something happened to it in the move."
"yeah."
"and you're giving it to me? to wear? to a bonfire?"
"yeah," matty grins. "wanna try it on?"
you nod, taking the hoodie and carefully pulling it over your head. he's right. it is cosy. "how do i look?"
"oh my god," matty's jaw drops as he takes you in; it lifts back into a smile as he smoothes your hair and kisses your nose. "perfect. my perfect girl. i love you."
"i love you too," you rake a hand through matty's curls, gently massaging his scalp. "i'm excited for tonight. more so now that i'm wearing this."
your boyfriend laughs. "me too, darlin'. it'll be sweet."
he's right. it's one of the colder november 5ths you remember experiencing, weather-wise, but matty never gives you the chance to get cold; his hands are either holding your own or on your waist as you chat to his family (who all share the same sentiment that "it's so nice to finally see the two of you all loved-up. we knew it would happen!"), keeping you ensconced in a cocoon of literal warmth and love-induced glow. the only time he lets go of you is to get you a drink or a baked potato or another s'more, and even then his less-than-a-minute-long departures are bookended by little kisses - the same sort of cute, giggly ones he gives you to get rid of the chocolate from the s'mores lingering on your lips.
as you wait for the fireworks display, the main event of the night, matty settles on a camping chair and tugs you onto his lap, covering you both in an old tartan blanket. he kisses your temple. "you having fun, darlin'?"
"mhmm. a lot of fun," you snuggle into him, taking a sip of your tea and holding the flask towards him. "want some?"
he takes a sip, wincing as the brew hits his tongue. "christ, sweetheart. i don't know how you can drink that. s'far too strong."
"well, i'm sweet enough already."
another kiss. "yeah, you are," matty murmurs against your lips. "sweet girl. my sweet girl."
you restart the kiss at the exact moment the fireworks start to shoot into the sky and burst into colour - naturally, it doesn't last long at all, because you and your boyfriend both start laughing at the unintentionally perfect timing.
matty kisses your nose instead. "you know, as heavy-handed as it was, i'm glad that just happened. i always feel like there's fireworks going off in my brain when you kiss me. and that nat king cole song, too."
"which song?"
"you know," matty bobs his head, presumably to the music playing in it. "l! is for the way you look at me!"
giggling, you kiss his cheek. "so… like the opening scene in the parent trap, yeah?"
matty's brow furrows, and he opens his mouth as if to argue; he closes it after about half a second and sighs. "yeah, exactly like that. without the divorce, though."
"i would hope so," you snuggle further into him. "wouldn't mind if you bought a vineyard in napa, though. i could get used to that."
matty smiles against your neck. "well, i'll see what i can do after the second album releases."
"thanks, baby."
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xocasper · 2 years
Text
Sins of the Flesh
Pairing: Gerard Way x Fem!Reader Summary: Kinktober Day Eight - Corruption Kink Warnings: NSFW content, adultery, angst, loaaads of religious guilt Tags: oral sex, fingering, dacryphilia, loss of virginity, corruption kink, age gap, unprotected sex Word Count: 8952 A/N: Bungalow fic is finally here. I’ve had this idea for months; I think since May. I started writing v1 in June, but I ended up scrapping it. In July, I tried to rewrite Sunset and Vine, but it was turning out much darker than intended. That’s when I realized that it would be perfect for this fic. Similar to Sharing is Caring (dumbass title, by the way. someone gets spitroasted and i gave it some g-rated fucking title? ok.), it was written over the course of several sessions without the intention of getting posted. 
For a while, I considered abandoning it or posting it anonymously. I didn’t want to get hate or anything. Now, I don’t really give a fuck. I’m really proud of the writing in this. If you guys want, I can post an alternative version with gender-neutral terms. Also, there are two other Gerard reader-insert fics with this title. It’s inconvenient, but mine has a different plot and you can always call it bungalow fic. Finally, major shoutout to @ghostie-anon​! Thank you so much for beta-reading!
Disclaimer: Gerard’s wife and child are not referred to by name in this fic. They are mentioned, but I used pronouns and vague terms instead. I did not feel comfortable using their names. Also, everything is very consensual. It’s mentioned several times, no worries. :-)
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It was fucking dirty. 
Gerard was fucking dirty, filthy and neck-deep in sin. He knew it, god, did he know it, shame eating away at him every single day. He was a forty-year-old man; he had absolutely no place around you, no matter how pure his intentions were. You were half his age, and the classic girl-next-door, the kind that made people stop and turn, mumbling how they wished their kids were like you. In the eyes of the town, you were a national treasure, and Gerard hated it.
He hated the sweet smiles you gave him, offering to watch his kid on Friday nights–date nights, where he was supposed to be thinking about his wife, not that he could really stand her anyway. He hated how much his daughter loved you, always chatting away about you the next day, spontaneously interrupting Saturday morning cartoons to talk about your favorite characters. Christ, he hated how much he loved you, falling for you the same way the rest of the town had. You were so pure, valued by nearly everyone, always being asked how college was going, and what your folks were up to.
That made his skin crawl, too–you still lived with your parents, merely commuting throughout the week. He couldn’t imagine how your father would react, the same man who invited him over for cookouts, discussing politics and sports despite Gerard’s disinterest, if he knew how his neighbor thought of you. God, the cookouts. It was pure torture, nodding along to tuned-out conversations, his gaze transfixed on you and those stupid little sundresses you pranced around in. The minute August ended, Gerard was practically on his knees, thanking whatever otherworldly presence had graced him with cool weather. Tucking away your tank tops didn’t even begin to solve his problems though, as you were irresistible no matter how much skin was showing.
It wasn’t illegal. Hell, it wasn’t even all that immoral–save his marriage and friendship with your parents. He didn’t even know you until you were nineteen, back when your parents had moved to save you some money on gas. Nonetheless, he felt awful about it, the mere image of you shooting shame through his veins. It was worse when he let it linger though, quickly evolving into something beyond unholy, leaving him with unimaginable guilt. Millions of thoughts, centered around corrupting someone so sickeningly pure, every inch of skin, yet to be seen by hungry eyes would flood his head. The taste of victory as you finally broke, your goody-two-shoes reputation tarnished, tossed aside like your tiny tennis skirts and perfectly-ironed tops.
He knew it was a facade–all the string pearls in the world couldn’t hide underlying desire, nor the marks that he’d scatter across your neck. You were an adult, and he found it hard to believe that you were as innocent as you lead everyone to believe. When you were stripped down to nothing, who were you really?
It was a question that circled Gerard’s mind, the picture of your hand past your waistband, face twisted in pleasure, painting itself perfectly. Who was it that you thought of late into the evening? Whose fingers would feel so much better than your own, fucking you open until the only word left was please?
If he tried hard enough, he could see you, on full display and begging, crying, even, to be fucked by him. He wanted to hate the image. He wanted to feel sick to his stomach, tossing the idea aside without another thought, but once he had it, he couldn’t let go. Streaked mascara and unkempt clothes seemed to haunt him, nearly able to hear your choked moans and mewls, leaving him with nothing but untimely erections, unfortunately fixed by his hand rather than yours.
Lust was hard to avoid when you were the talk of the town, your name dropping nonchalantly in his own home, too. You were inescapable and blissfully unaware of the chokehold you had on him. As unbelievable as it was, his fantasies weren’t unrequited, as you were also tormented by unholy ideas, the kind that could single-handedly shred your honor.
It wasn’t any less shameful for you, hardly capable of holding a conversation around him, resorting to speaking with his wife when they needed a babysitter. You hated it–staring her in the eyes, sitting through gossip out of sheer guilt, paranoid that she knew.
Knew the way you thought about Gerard and how badly you wanted him, needing him to tear apart your innocence. You had kept away from parties and one-night stands in hopes of saving yourself for someone real–no frat boys who hardly knew their way around a woman, only looking for somewhere to stick it. You wanted someone with experience, skilled and passionate, putting your needs first. There was nothing like that in college though, residing a door down instead.
Sometimes, you wondered what his daughter would think–she was too young to understand now, as well convinced as the rest of the town that you had handpicked the stars just for her. Down the line, she would certainly figure it out, rose-colored glasses coming off when she’d reminisce, no longer a little girl and capable of remembering how you looked at her father. How you’d torn her family apart. It made you sick, your stomach churning and eyes pricking with hot tears, guilt spinning nightmares out of an improbable future.
No matter how much shame you shared, it hadn’t stopped you tonight. It should’ve built an indestructible wall, blocking out temptation, but you still wound up at his house. You could hardly remember how you had gotten there, vague memories of being spotted outside, and his daughter calling you over to play in the yard with them. He had been raking leaves, the smell of the autumn breeze still clinging to his clothes. She had been jumping in each pile, clutching your hand and pulling you with her, crumbled maple leaves sticking to your sweater, weaving themselves between fine cotton fibers. The sound of his laughter still echoed in your ears, the warm smile he gave you easily thawing the chill in your bones. It was perfect, wholesome and picturesque, though the scene was cut short as his wife’s voice sliced through the air.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Gerard looked up, alarmed and puzzled, glancing from the auburn leaves to his irate spouse. “Raking leaves?”
Fuming, the woman stormed down the porch steps, beckoning over their daughter. Mimicking Gerard, she glanced between you and her mother, infuriating her even more. With a shrill call of her name though, the girl had high-tailed it up the yard, leaving you and Gerard to stand awkwardly by the fence.
“Cut the bullshit,” she lashed, unbothered by your company. “Why did you let her outside?”
Gerard shrugged casually, leaning his rake against a picket. “Because she wanted to play.”
Even if you thought it was fair logic, his wife was seething. “I told you that we had to leave!”
Uncomfortable, you glanced toward their daughter, who wore a similar expression. She kicked the leaves beneath her shoes, scuffing the grass as she tried to drown out the arguing. It was a blast from the past, and you could taste the bitter nostalgia as you pictured your own parents bickering the same way.
Occasionally, she’d tattle on her parents, filling you in on their latest feuds during rounds of Candy Land. You were a babysitter, not a therapist, but you supported her to the best of your ability–at least until she had forgotten a moment later, hardly dwelling on marital issues before growing distracted by Lord Licorice. But Candy Land was tucked away in a toy box now, and Princess Frostine still couldn’t fix her parents’ marriage.
Gerard had a strong bias for his daughter, behaving as if she had hung the moon, so he’d be damned if he didn’t defend her. “She’s allowed to make her own decisions.”
“So if she wanted to jump off a bridge, you’d let her?” his wife snapped, already tramping towards the car.
He couldn’t help but snort, “No, I’d wonder why my six-year-old is suicidal.”
She was at her wit’s end, spitting venom as she buckled their daughter into the car. “Grow the fuck up, Gerard.”
The rest was a blur, slamming car doors and solemn goodbyes, tiny hands waving out the window while you stood in the center of his yard. Even after she had sped off, agitation continued to hang over Gerard. He was still for a moment, letting out a weary sigh as he ran his hand through his hair, sparing you a pitiful glance.
“I can help if you want,” you offered quietly, gesturing towards his abandoned rake and pulling him from his reverie.
He shook his head, “I think it’s time for a break anyway.”
Beckoning you inside, you trailed after him, having been here a million times but things still felt different.
“Never get married,” he huffed, a bittersweet smile on his face.
You looked up at him, eyebrows knitted in confusion. He chewed his lip anxiously, probably eating his words. “They’re off to a birthday party or something, and I guess I wasn’t supposed to let her outside. She got leaves in her hair, or now her clothes are dirty, I don’t know.”
“She didn’t seem too thrilled to be going anyway. I’m sure she was having much more fun being a kid,” you said, trying to soothe his stress to the best of your ability.
It wasn’t entirely fruitless, earning you a small smile as he brewed a pot of coffee. The room was silent, not awkward nor comfortable; instead, it was filled with anticipation. Gerard didn’t speak, so neither did you, studying his movements and focusing on the tune he was humming.
“Do you want some?” he asked, facing you for a brief moment,
You shook your head, unable to say much of anything, and he nodded in response. It was strange that he hadn’t sent you home yet, as you were never around just to chat, but you stayed put without complaint. Every noise seemed to be amplified, heavy footsteps echoing around the room as he walked towards you, sitting quietly at the island. He leaned against it, eyes narrowing as he inspected you. Once more, you were hit with the overwhelming fear that he could sniff out your sins like a bloodhound.
You swallowed hard, Gerard having some sort of height on you, blinking up at him in mild fear. Carefully, he took a sip of his coffee, still looking as if he wanted to speak, but he pushed it aside.
“How are your parents doing?” he asked, hating the question as it echoed back to him.
Your tongue darted out momentarily, wetting your lips before you spoke, and Gerard’s mind instantly retreated to the gutter. He couldn’t hear anything you had said, blinking mindlessly at you as his thoughts headed elsewhere. You could tell, watching the interest drain from his eyes, almost hurt until you noticed how they flicked down to your lips again.
It could’ve been a painful coincidence, but it was enough for you to try. You needed to find answers, to take a step in the right direction. Anxiety crept into your mind as you made your next move, making your stomach churn over a casual response.
“They’re fine,” you said slowly, the words heavy and tentative. “My dad misses the cookouts—I do too.”
He hummed and feigned disinterest, taking another sip of his coffee as he spaced out. “Why?”
Swallowing hard, you thought out your response. With only a few seconds to think, you couldn’t judge the morality of it. Gerard glanced down at you curiously, making your heart pound. 
“Because I liked the way you looked at me.”
The next few seconds passed like molasses, and you yearned for an escape. The answer was methodical—it spelled out every secret while remaining conservative, leaving the outcome up to Gerard. If he hadn’t been eyeing you up all summer, he would look puzzled, brushing it off with an awkward laugh. And even if it were true, he could have the same reaction, burying the exchange forever.
You were at an advantage, and he was hit with a mix of embarrassment and pride. He had been caught—but you liked it. Neither of you were in a good position, yet he still responded with unjust confidence.
“Yeah?” he asked, setting his mug down. “How so?”
Gerard leaned over the counter, pressing his palms to the marble as he gave a grin of faux arrogance. He had an air of intimidation, hovering a scant foot away from you, leaving you nowhere else to look. You were embarrassed this time, giving him a quick once-over.
“You just,” you started, the words dying as you burned with insecurity. “You looked at me like I was worth it.”
Again, your answer was up to interpretation, but you both knew the truth. Last summer had built tension, and even as the weather began to cool, the heat never faded. His smile had slipped away, turning tight as he clung to his resolve. Lost for words, his gaze drifted back to your lips, searching for a signal.
Softly, you prompted him to speak. “Am I worth it, Gerard?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, sweet and simple, but he remained frozen in place.
Truly transfixed, Gerard missed the look you had given him, hopeful and desperate. He hardly noticed the way you leaned up, gently pressing your palm to his cheek, smoothing over soft skin and stubble. In fact, he didn’t snap back to reality until twelve inches had turned to two, his nose brushing yours as you watched and waited for some sort of sign—one to leave, or an even bigger one to stay.
Gerard picked the latter, breath catching and lips parting as you stared at him, throwing caution to the wind as he closed the gap. To his surprise, he wasn’t met with outrage and obscenities, hallucinating slamming doors and divorce papers as your lips moved against his. He could taste the sin, shame, and regret, drowning in a cruel combination of pride and remorse. You were the forbidden fruit, and he had never tasted anything sweeter. Your kisses were laced with naivety, seemingly immune to the weight of an affair. He should’ve pulled away, sent you home, and told you to chase boys your own age, but his self-control was long gone by then.
Eventually, you did the job for him, needing a moment to breathe, not to mention think. You were intelligent, raised with strong morals, and yet they had all slipped out of reach. Gerard resorted to watching you, eyes glazed over as he dealt with his own inner turmoil, unsure of the next step.
Apologies spilled out before he could reevaluate, blanching as his breath stalled. “I’m sorry,” he began, eyes widened in sudden horror. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have–”
“Don’t say that,” you blurted out, still cupping his cheek. “Don’t do that to me.”
You could already hear his answer, how he would pull away and say it meant nothing, and you couldn’t afford that. The least you could do was fight for his honesty, knowing what he really wanted and winding up ashamed as you pleaded with him. His kitchen was fucking Eden, and you played the serpent, vying for his infidelity.
“What?” he mumbled, almost vulnerable.
Gerard wanted confession. He wanted to hear how bad you wanted him, already proud and flattered by your brazen interruption. You sighed, torn between guilt and temptation, a central theme between the two of you.
“Don’t make me leave,” you whispered, stroking his cheek tenderly.
He leaned into your touch, relishing in the foreign domesticity despite its terms. “Do you want to?”
“No,” you said, your voice weak and hushed, and he replied with a soft smile.
“Good,” he told you, slipping away and rounding the counter. “I didn’t want you to anyway.”
You slid off the stool, staring at him expectantly as he slowly made his way over. Nervous, he outstretched his arm, almost scared as he drew closer.
“Can I…” he mumbled, reluctantly stepping towards you.
It was quiet, a question he shouldn’t have asked, and one you shouldn’t have answered; so you didn’t. Nodding your head was sufficient, and he closed the distance in calculated strides, his hands landing on your hips almost magnetically. His hold was firm with a contrasting fragility, fingertips teasing the hem of your sweater while he kissed you. This one was different, fervorous and messy, and his grip held you upright. His hands lingered on bare skin, soft and untouched by perverted college boys–but rather perverted neighbors, which he supposed wasn’t any better.
Gerard kissed the way you expected him to, smooth and relaxed without substituting passion, his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip in fluent strokes, and parting them with remarkable ease. You had kissed people before, but never like this–not with clear intent to escalate, searching for more than a messy makeout session. It didn’t seem to bother him, having held the reins since the start.
He was hooked on it all, the taste of adultery that burnt his tongue, only to be soothed by purity and satisfaction. Passion was scarce in his marriage, merely coexisting with his wife at this point, certain that he hadn’t felt like this since his daughter was born. It was addicting–you were addicting, shiny and new, and so fucking compliant, easily the most foreign trait to him. You went along with every motion, mimicking the way his tongue worked against yours, dark roast never tasting so sweet.
There was still time to stop, both of you well aware of the fact as he pulled away. For a moment, he was submerged in nostalgia, the way your hands hooked around his neck painfully reminiscent of her–of passion and love that this house was built on, the air now tainted with an unforgivable act. Once again, Gerard could’ve backed out, but the dazed look in your eyes was like a teaser, promising so much more.
Instead, he led you to the guest bedroom, soft laughter and stumbling hardly loud enough to silence the alarms in his head, almost purifying something so disgustingly sinful. He didn’t have the guts to fuck you in his bed. He tried to convince himself that it was unfair to you, watching as you kicked off your sneakers and laid back on the mattress, not appearing haunted by this situation. You didn’t deserve to be surrounded by her, to have to breathe the lingering perfume as you were stripped of your innocence.
While he really did believe that, he brought you here for a far more selfish reason–he couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping next to her tonight, knowing what he had done in their bed. Besides, he wouldn’t have time to wash the sheets, and cracking the windows would only do so much, leaving the unmistakable smell of sex to hang heavy in the room. He could take the heat from her, but that sprung from years of experience–you had only caught a glimpse of her wrath, and he hoped it would stay that way.
Kicking off his shoes, he slid next to you, wrinkling his nose at the duvet. Gerard was no expert when it came to interior design, but wasn’t paisley a little tacky? Noticing his distaste, you grew slightly insecure, almost scared to ask the issue. “What’s wrong?”
It came out mousier than you would’ve liked, crossing your arms over yourself despite being fully clothed. Had he finally given in to guilt?
“Nothing, really,” he said earnestly, almost embarrassed that he had worried you over something so trivial. “This duvet is just really awful.”
He got a genuine smile in response, content with your reaction as he pulled your hands away, kissing you once more. The meaning was ever-changing, once impulsive, twice impassioned, and now the calm before the storm. It was almost juvenile, Gerard propped up on his arm, and the awkward shuffle as you tried to get comfortable. It was a direct parallel to your first partner, one from high school, giggling and kissing with the door shut, hoping your parents wouldn’t barge in. Except for this time, you were grown up. And you no longer feared your parents, but his wife. He was cheating. But he wanted you.
It should’ve made you sick, had you crying, something, but all you felt was pride, hardly registering his hands slipping higher up your sweater as your mind cleared. Gradually, his fingers trailed up your chest, smooth skin cut off by the fabric of your bra.
Quietly, he spoke for the third time since kissing you. “Has anyone ever touched you here before?”
Over clothes, sure, but you generally stayed pretty guarded. In the end, you simply nodded–if anything, it might stop him from quitting, knowing that this wasn’t entirely new.
Soon, his touch trailed lower, dragging to the waistband of your jeans, and lower still. In fact, he didn’t stop until the pads of his fingers were pressed between your legs, denim the only thing hiding the arousal pooling in your panties.
“What about here?”
This time, you shook your head.
“Why?” he asked, genuinely curious as you had been pretty eager so far.
The truth seemed to be far less embarrassing to him than it was for you, tumbling out before you could stop it.
“Because I was waiting for you.”
Fuck.
This was wrong, and he knew it like the back of his hand, but he could’ve gotten off on your admission alone. He wondered how many advances you had rejected, only thinking of him, and how he was the only one worthy of fucking you. Again, he wondered if you spent lonely nights thinking of him, thinking of this.
“Do you think about this?” he asked out loud, hardly registering his own question.
Slow kisses down your neck wrecked your focus, but they also numbed your anxiety. You gave a brief nod though, tilting your head back for him.
“I do,” he continued, every word mumbled against your neck and etched into your skin. “I think about making you cry and beg for me. How’s that sound?”
He was speaking in a foreign tongue, surprising himself just the same, though you found yourself aching for more. Gently, he left a love bite, hardly noticeable below your ear, but enough to prompt a response. Nothing more than a good, but Gerard was certain that you’d be vocal sooner or later. It wasn’t normally like this for him–she had always wanted it quick and dirty, never letting him take his time. He wanted to savor you, trace every inch of unseen skin, taste and feel the metamorphosis as you grew into a sinner. Ideally, he’d take it slow, but if you pleaded enough, he’d certainly give in.
Shifting, he pulled you flush against the pillows, wiggling himself around until he was hovering above you. You could see him better from here, studying his features–his soft hazel eyes pooled with guilt, juxtaposed against his blow pupils, forming a contradictory combination. He was beautiful, blessed with long lashes and an upturned nose, pairing perfectly with faint freckles that painted him in irresistibility. Gazing at him didn’t last long though, soon cut off by a brief kiss before he sunk lower.
Gerard’s hands trailed up your sides, back under your sweater as he traced illegible shapes into your skin. Slowly, he tugged it further up, hardly focusing on his hands as he nipped at your collarbones, reluctantly pulling away to hike the thick fabric up over your head. You were nothing short of perfection, untouched skin all smooth and flawless, revealed only for him. You didn’t complain or cover up, whining about silly insecurities that Gerard couldn’t spot, unlike his wife. At first, he was sympathetic, showering her with affection, but it was fruitless, only ending in arguments and narcissism. Eventually, he learned that fixing things was useless, finding other solutions to his problems, such as you.
You were so much different, and he knew it for a fact as he pressed his lips to your sternum, gaining a satisfied hum rather than restless squirming. His lips traced the edge of your bra, and his chin brushed against the nylon, but he preferred to be flush against you. Locking eyes with you, he snaked his hands around your back, fingers brushing against the clasp and sliding the straps down your shoulders. Lust seemed to overpower his guilt, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he pulled off your bra, tossing it towards the edge of the bed.
Gerard had been loyal for several years, and seeing something new, someone that wanted him like you, gave him a rush, his adrenaline high from delirium and paranoia. Mesmerized, he watched the rise and fall of your chest before kicking back into gear.
“You’re beautiful,” he told you, cupping your breasts with strong hands. “God, you’re so fucking perfect.”
The room was chilly, but Gerard was warm, heating you up as he caressed your skin, rolling your hardened nipples beneath his thumbs. His focus didn’t linger there for long though, leaving kisses and bites but not much more, only there to make a mark. Trailing further down your chest, he reached your hips, slithering down the mattress as he ran his hands along your curves. Watching you once more, he reached for the button of your jeans, anxiety crossing your expression for a moment.
“Are you sure?”
The question made you pause, nodding mindlessly anyway, arching into his touch.
“What do you want to do to me?” you asked curiously, though it came across as more sexual than you intended.
A sly grin crossed his face, slowly pulling down the denim, gazing longingly at the bare skin, now only covered by thin panties.
“I want to ruin you.”
There was a shaky inhale on your end, eyes fluttering shut as you processed his sentence, subconsciously sliding closer to him. He was quick to stop you though, gripping your thighs firmly as he held you down. It was unfamiliar, the predatory glint in his eyes, and the sensation of wet kisses scattered between your legs. The gentle scrape of his teeth broke your silence, a soft, breathy moan as he nipped your skin. The feeling came again, hickeys soothed by his tongue, reaching higher until he hit cotton.
Part of you was embarrassed, always imagining this scene in something nicer–silk or lace that you’d spent too much money on, not something so bland. It was an outlandish idea, but you still burned up as his nose brushed against it, greedily mouthing at you despite your subtle shame. He was taking his time as intended, making you shiver with every clothed kiss, growing uncomfortably wet with his procrastination. Watching as you opened your mouth to whine, his tongue lolled out, and his intense stare never wavered as he gave a bold lick, the pressure intoxicating. Another moan slipped out, louder this time, one that Gerard wanted on loop for the rest of his life. Embarrassed, you turned away from him, staring at the wall to save face.
“Look at me,” he requested, his voice soft and stern.
Reluctantly, you turned back, watching as his fingers slipped under your waistband, slowly dragging your panties past your thighs. His gaze felt like mid-July, his eyes painting a nostalgic fantasy—the same one you had pointed out earlier. He still looked at you like you were worth something, worth the risk, but you could tell by the hesitance flashing in his eyes that it wasn’t without a side of remorse.
For a moment, he considered leaving, chickening out and apologizing, returning to a simple life with his wife and kid. Gerard was never one for making good decisions though, churning his guilt into arousal, praying that he could distract himself with the taste of purity.
It worked, to a point, libido winning the twisted battle, Gerard growing hot as he watched you squirm with every foreign touch. The room was quiet again, ear-piercing silence only disrupted by your sudden gasp, surprised by the warmth of Gerard’s tongue. He moved meticulously, lips ghosting over your skin while his tongue skated across the top of your thigh. Gerard wanted you to crack–he wanted you to want him, to impatiently force yourself against him when he took too long. But you remained quiet as you laid beneath him, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as the tip of his tongue dragged closer, skimming across your folds in faint strokes.
God, you wanted it. It was obvious, Gerard biting back an arrogant grin while he licked teasingly, urged to continue as you whined at his negligence. Hopeless, you shifted closer, only to be met with a disapproving hum.
“Honey, if you want something,” he started, no longer fighting his smile. “All you have to do is ask.”
Humiliated, you took a breath, hardly in the right frame of mind to analyze the situation. You were in his house with his face between your legs, fighting to stay quiet while he waited for a pretty plea to spill from your lips. It was so fucking contradictory, and you were growing impatient, Gerard watching your chest fall as you waved your white flag.
“Please,” you mumbled, the shame nearly boiling you alive.
Unsatisfied, he didn’t give more than another kitten lick, studying your twisted features as you swallowed your pride. You had never been more embarrassed in your life, but with a single glance at him, you concluded that it was worth it.
“Gerard, please, fucking–” you said, louder this time. “Just… touch me? Please?”
Your innocence made him dizzy, every word sounding unsure as you uttered them, urging him to fill in the blanks. “I can touch you,” he assured, pausing to suck softly on his fingers, delicately spreading you open. “I wanna taste you. I wanna eat your sweet pussy–do you want that?”
Set on fire, you nodded hastily, choking out a moan as his tongue ran flat, a single wide stroke making your hips jump. It was some sort of reward for answering–you had always been good in school, so you knew how this worked.
“Yes, please, I want your mouth so fucking bad.”
Gerard groaned against you, the words that sounded so unnatural to you sparking a rush of arousal for him. Restraining himself was difficult enough on its own, fighting the urge to spring into action, eating you out until you were mindless and used, pretty tears staining your cheeks with the loss of innocence. That wasn’t in the cards for today though, Gerard cursing himself as he realized that meant more. More secrets, more lies, more guilty pleasure and desecration. Ignorantly, he stepped over the rabbit hole and focused on you again.
Wet lips and heavy tongue were the only sensations you could register, having gone blind to emotion with Gerard’s mouth on you. Even if his head was in the clouds, you had never been more grounded, moaning softly as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to your cunt, his lips shining with an erotic mix of slick and spit. Wrapping your thighs tighter around him, you tried to push closer, desperation lacing both the jerk of your hips and your pathetic cries.
Tauntingly, he slowed again, pulling back until he was merely flicking his tongue against you. It was torturous–faint, slow, and not nearly enough. Whining as he continued to tease, you broke yet again, and begging became less of a chore.
“Please, I’ll stay still,” you swore, Gerard quickly giving in to the vulnerability in your voice.
Good behavior deserved a reward, his pace picking up as you continued to babble pleas, your fingers scrunching the awful duvet. Again, he felt appreciated, flooded with a foreign warmth; she never appreciated his effort and eagerness to please. He could hardly remember a time that she had pleaded with him the way you had, or resisted the urge to grind against his tongue until the taste of your arousal lingered in his mouth for days.
“Feels good?” he asked rhetorically, shaking his head slightly as you hummed, the same smile still ghosting his cheeks.
The sounds you made drowned out all of his insecurities, putting an end to his overthinking as you cursed and moaned, your back arching off the mattress as he sucked on your clit. It was overwhelming, Gerard’s tongue pressing against you as he pulled you closer, swirling and sucking as he figured out what made you tick.
“More,” you breathed, hands digging into the duvet. “Fuck, please, more.”
Latching the magic word onto every sentence left him with an edge of remorse, partly guilty from the way that you clung to being innocent and well-mannered, but mostly because of the effect it had on him. For you, it was subconscious, unaware of the sweet naivety that filled your tone, as words strictly spoken in PG settings were now caught between sinful cries. In fact, Gerard wasn’t sure he’d ever heard you swear until he was between your legs, lapping at your untouched cunt like a lifeline. Everything about you was irresistible, golden and pure, and so fucking different from his wife. Briefly, he wondered if he really wanted you, or if he simply didn’t want her.
Unaware of his troubles, you continued to plead with him, on the verge of finishing the job yourself at his indolence. After a moment though, he snapped back, planting a kiss on your clit before pulling away, another winning smile plastered across his face. With slick lips, he pressed a handful of kisses to your thighs, seemingly stopping short. Quietly, you whined in objection, and Gerard was quick to clear the air.
“Oh no, we’re not done yet.”
That should’ve been a surefire sign that you were positively fucked, but you only stared curiously at him as he settled comfortably between your legs again. Then, you watched as his fingers landed flat against his tongue, lips closing and tongue swirling in the same patterns he had etched into your skin. The pads of his fingers gravitated towards your thighs, skating higher until he was met with your aching cunt, embarrassingly wet and begging for contact.
You watched with anticipation as his middle finger dragged across your folds, nothing more than feather-light touches before it slipped inside of you. Your small gasp was a knee-jerk reaction, lips parted and brows furrowed as you watched Gerard, easing his finger deeper. His fingers were larger than yours, thicker and longer, already filling you in unfamiliar ways. It was different, but not bad to be touched by someone else, and you gradually settled into the pillows again.
“How’s that?” Gerard asked, slowly pushing in and out, watching you carefully for discomfort.
You nodded, “Good.”
After receiving your approval, it didn’t take long for him to step further, building a rhythm that was quicker and deeper, his finger curling just right. Gerard’s touch felt so much better than yours, the image as sweet as the action itself, leaving you moaning as he tentatively added another one.
“God, Gerard, please,” you murmured, reaching for his hand as he buried his fingers inside of you, somehow longing for more.
You wanted him. You wanted the muscles in your abdomen wound so tight to snap, every bone in your body turning to jelly as he fucked you, raw and real. Patience wasn’t your strong suit, leaving you to rock against his fingers as he tried his best to stretch you out.
“Do you touch yourself like this?” Gerard asked, out of the blue.
As your mouth opened, aiming to answer, he pressed his tongue against your clit, sucking softly again. It caught you off guard, hardly giving an affirming hum before you were shifting towards him.
“Mhm… Oh my god,” you breathed, finally grasping his free hand as he continued to work you open.
You let out a small whine as he pulled away to speak, feeling yourself grow closer every second. “Who do you think of?” he asked in a stern tone, though there was an unmistakable, arrogant edge to it. “Whose fingers are really��fucking you?”
Kissing your dignity goodbye, you cried out a desperate, “Yours.”
“Whose fucking pussy is this?”
It was obscene, the way he sucked on your clit with his fingers buried inside you, and the pauses where he’d stare up at you with shining lips, licking away your wetness before asking his formerly humiliating questions. Questions he knew the answers to, wanting nothing more than power and reassurance, straining against his jeans with each predicted answer. You weren’t even embarrassed anymore, so fucking desperate for him that you had grown eager to answer his questions, begging to come undone on his tongue and surrender yourself to him.
“It’s yours, Gerard,” you said, as confident as your wavering voice could manage.
The words did sound confident, natural, even. It was as if you were meant to be submitting yourself, moaning and begging as he stretched your virgin cunt. You could only imagine how it would feel when he fucked you, aching for the delicious pain that would wash over you as his hips snapped against yours. For now, you had to be grateful for his hands, and the way his fingers sank inside of you with a swift rhythm.
“Good girl.”
It was mumbled and hardly heard, but no matter how loud you had grown, his voice stuck out like a sore thumb. The nickname reached your ears, bold and ringing as you teetered on the edge, and Gerard was smugly observant of it. His lips brushed against you while his breath fanned across your skin, locking eyes with you as his tongue dragged flat across your slit, trailing higher until his lips wrapped once more around your swollen clit, sucking lightly with the steady curl of his fingers.
Finally, your body gave in, tense muscles going lax as the anticipation and pressure faded away. Softly, you panted, rocking absentmindedly against Gerard, trying to ride it out for as long as you could. Sure, you’d had an orgasm before, but never like this. Not with Gerard’s tongue lapping and swirling long after you had come, or the hint of pride in his eyes as he listened to your whines. Everything was different with Gerard, and all the sensations you were sure you’d experienced before became pure ecstasy, blurring your vision as you reached fruitlessly for him.
Even as you whined from the oversensitivity, his actions never stopped, all of your cries cut with moans, egging him on. He was careful, toeing the line between pain and pleasure as he persisted. No matter how bad he wanted to wreck you, this was new territory, taking on a role of responsibility as he reigned himself in. Despite how he slowed, it all felt the same to you, spilling moans every time you tried to speak.
Your head was empty as you gave a small cry. “Please fuck me.”
It was desperate, broken, igniting a similar need in Gerard as he pulled away. You weren’t sure why you were begging for more, but your only voice of reason was beaten down by lust, seeing nothing but the passion in his eyes as he stared back at you. He had barely moved, his lips hardly having left your skin as twisted fantasies whirled in his head.
“You really want it?”
You nodded impatiently, “Fuck, yes.”
Gerard grinned, planting kisses on the top of your thighs, clearly in no rush to relieve the discomfort in his jeans. “Then tell me you want it,” he commanded, momentarily sinking his teeth into your flesh. “Tell me you want my cock.”
God, he was fucking sadistic, ordering you around as he marked up your thighs, leaving undeniable evidence that he had been there, pulling every plea and moan from your kiss-bitten lips. Still, you compiled, tripping over your words as he sucked on your skin.
“Please,” you choked out, squirming under him. “I want your cock so fucking bad.”
The words were wrong on your tongue, waiting to have your mouth washed out with soap, but he did nothing more than moan as he finally climbed up the bed again.
“You really are a good girl, aren’t you?”
With his hand against your cheek, he admired your vulnerability, thinking back to all those pretty sundresses and sweet smiles, now substituted with impurity. He let your hands wander as he kissed you, under his shirt and across his waistband, following his lead from earlier. You didn’t get far before Gerard was pulling away, shifting away to undress. As each layer hit the ground, your gut twisted more, growing hot at the sight of him. At first, he kept his boxers on, tentatively taking your hand in his.
“We can stop any time,” he promised, softening at your nervous expression. “Think of a traffic light–call out red, and we’ll be done, okay?”
It was a drastic difference from his previous attitude but appreciated nonetheless. “Okay.”
Relieved, he asked quietly, “Color?”
“Green.”
He shot you a small smile before leaning back in, catching your lips in a heated kiss while he guided your hand past his hips. You felt painfully uneducated, but Gerard had no problem helping, his hand over yours as you cupped his tented boxers. He wanted you, or at least his dick did, and you were filled with pride as his erection pressed against your palm.
To his surprise, you pulled off his boxers without a pep talk, anxiety creating a wicked combo with the arousal in your stomach. Again, he left your lips, glancing down at your hand, resting mere inches from his cock. He was already leaking precum and uncomfortably hard, and your unbridled lust did him no favors.
It wasn’t until he had begun to reach blindly for the nightstand did he realize that it would not have protection, unlike his bedroom down the hall. Defeated, he sighed, preparing to awkwardly leave you in the guest room while you waited for a condom, but you didn’t let him get that far.
“Just do it already,” you frowned, watching as he started to explain. “Fuck me raw, Gerard.”
You were a fucking rarity, weren’t you? Unable to stop the low moan that slipped out, Gerard hovered above you once more, holding his cock in his hand as he lined himself up.
“You’re so fucking filthy, baby, you know that? Such a good girl with such a dirty mouth.”
Even if you had been soaked minutes before, wet with slick and saliva, fitting himself inside proved to be a struggle. You were partly convinced that you’d tear in two, nails digging into his back as he gradually eased in, moaning as you clenched around him. God, you were so fucking tight, brand new and all for him, your pretty cunt squeezing his cock so well, already greedily taking the first few inches.
It started out uncomfortable, and the feeling of being so full felt unnatural, trying your best to adjust to his size. He was quieter than you had been, breathing crude curses as he rocked against you, hiding his impatience as he waited for permission to move. He was completely still, but you clung to him with bated breath, exhaling with another, “Please.”
As the word rolled off your tongue, he pushed in fully, groaning as a moan rippled through you. Your face had contorted, eyes screwed shut and brows drawn together, fighting the pain and discomfort as pleasure began to overpower it. Gerard stayed like that for a minute, holding you flush against him before mumbling, “Color?”
“Green.”
You were gradually getting used to the foreign fullness, writhing slightly as you waited for him to move. It was almost more uncomfortable, staying stuffed and still while he peered down at you. With your confirmation though, he gave a quick thrust, gaining motivation as you gave a choked cry. That’s when he began to focus, on anything and everything, his hips rolling as you let out broken sobs.
Gerard could hear every sound you made, hypervigilant as you mewled, listening to the edge of pain that came with each one, and how they started to blur into bliss. He could see your features close up, twisted in pleasure as he thrust into you, sending him into a haze. And fuck, he could feel you–the way you clenched around him, cunt so sweet and tight, wet warmth squeezing his cock with every snap of his hips. Each one came with a loud moan, thick and carnal as they spilled out, his control finally starting to fade. He was a man of his word, and he was going to ruin you.
His thrusts became ruthless, Gerard rocking his hips without restraint, growing closer as you blasphemed. How unholy of you to murmur God’s name in such a setting–had you gone blind to your own sin?
It didn’t make a difference to Gerard, his mind whirling as he fell down a similar spiral. He was taking it from you, innocence and honor, stigmatizing you with each thrust. This was wrong, you were wrong, spreading your legs for a married man and eagerly moaning his name. Gerard was no better, never having fucked his wife with such passion, driven by the image of you, broken, used, and begging for him. Begging for more, for him to stop, for redemption. Begging for an excuse for your actions, an escape–karma would be nasty to the two of you, and he knew it with every stroke. None of that mattered though, not when you were babbling intelligibly, so drunk on his cock that you could barely form words.
“Fuck,” you choked, voice already wrecked. “I’m gonna come, Gerard, please.”
He didn’t change pace, still going at a steady rhythm, albeit rougher. You were so easy to read, from the way your breathing grew erratic, to how you held him tighter, your nails creating dark crescents on his back. The pain was complementary for him, moaning obscenities as your hands raked up his skin. He was in major trouble if his wife saw, but did he really care anymore?
The question was stowed away for later as his hand slid down your stomach, pressing on your abdomen, where you could feel an unbearable tension threatening to crack. Again, his hand shifted, thumb toying with your clit, watching for a tell-tale sign that you were coming.
“C’mon, pretty girl,” he murmured, catching your lips in a sloppy kiss. “Make a mess for me.”
The world seemed to stall when you felt yourself shatter, descending into euphoria as your body went limp. You could barely register the whines that bubbled up in your throat, filling the room with a lewd chorus. Even after you had come, Gerard hadn’t slowed down, staying true to his intentions as thrust with the same fervor.
The oversensitivity hadn’t hit at first, though you struggled to take a full breath as you panted, each attempt ruined by another moan. He knew he should stop–this was out of your expertise, and it was selfish of him to push your limits for his own fantasies. Still, he couldn’t help but continue pounding into you, finally finding the strength to talk.
“Color?” he breathed as his thrusts grew sloppier.
He must’ve fucked you dumb, as you answered on impulse. “Green.”
The moan that slipped past his lips was nothing short of wanton, Gerard unable to catch himself as it tumbled out. You were so fucking hot, still wanting more despite your obvious sensitivity. Who would’ve known that his sweet little neighbor could be such a whore, degrading herself to nothing more than a hole for Gerard’s sick desires?
You wondered the same thing, peering up at him blearily as you looked for answers. It must’ve been something psychological, leaving your mind to fight your body, spent and used, as you thrived on imaginary praise. It hurt, but you were being such a good girl, so sweet and compliant for giving him your body. Tears stung your eyes, streaming down your cheeks one by one, tainted with mascara as you sobbed in his bedsheets. Yet you still needed it, sacrificing yourself for the knowledge that he wanted you.
You swelled with sick pride when his eyes fluttered open, moaning at how wrecked you looked. Stained skin and swollen lips had become a reality, his once distant dreams playing out in real time, and it felt like fucking heaven. He could tell as the tears poured and you bit your lip raw that it was overwhelming, shamefully getting off on your submission. It was the feeling of being buried inside you, thrusting into your tight cunt as you gave him something irreplaceable that made him lose it, feeling his cock twitch as he pulled out.
Gerard reeled at the sight of you, ruined and disheveled as he spilled onto your stomach. This was real, all the guilt and realities catching up as he studied your figure, splayed out and spent. There would be proof of it too–only temporarily, but the hoarseness of your voice and the predictable wobble when you'd walk would be a shameful reminder for days to come. The room seemed to go cold as you laid against the pillows, finally catching your breath while he stared down at you, his lips suddenly meeting yours. Once more, you were both filled with remorse, Gerard’s wedding band scalding your skin with bitter truths as he cupped your cheek.
Underneath a copious amount of guilt, there was still a burning desire–a need for more, for each other, one that he had chosen to ignore. Following in his footsteps, you pushed it down as well, watching as he silently laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest. It wasn’t out of love–it was comfort, the kind that he needed too. You couldn’t change the past, but you could lay in his arms and contemplate the future, beginning to spot the imperfections of your affair. Oh, how quickly the liaison had lost its color, blind to reality only minutes before. Part of you wished he would talk, kick you out or beg you to stay. Only a few moments later, he granted it, his voice quiet as he spoke.
“I’ll be right back,” was all he said, carefully getting up as if the world would shatter otherwise.
The silence was deafening without him, and you had nothing to do other than lay uncomfortably in his guest room, glancing around at the decor that lined the wall. Decor that they had picked out, back when they were happy and faithful, not needing an affair to feel wanted. It takes two to tango, but you were clearly out of place, still fighting nausea when Gerard came back with a washcloth.
Without a sound, he cleaned you up, first your stomach, and then your legs, pressing an occasional kiss to your skin. It was tender, laced with sweet sympathy, each one acting as an odd sort of apology for dragging you into this. You wanted to object, telling him that it was your fault too, but you kept your mouth shut, hands folded and eyes on the ceiling as he finished cleaning up.
You had done a better job after getting home that evening, scrubbing the sins from your skin in the hot shower, but it was impossible to shake the past. Gerard hadn’t spoken much before you left, giving you a final somber kiss in the doorway as he wished that the world would disappear for a moment longer.
But the world still stood tall, and the night had fallen. And his wife had returned home, and their daughter was undoubtedly rambling about her afternoon. And now you were laying in bed, kept awake by your mistakes, wondering if Gerard ever really wanted you. And in the next house over, he stared at the shadows in his bedroom, sharing your struggles.
This wasn’t feasible, but you made him happy. Did he even deserve to be happy anymore? Did he deserve you? The questions were suffocating, impossible and infuriating as he screwed his eyes shut in frustration. Even after hours of thinking, he still couldn’t find the answers, only drawing a single bittersweet conclusion, one that sent another wave of guilt crashing down on him.
At the end of the day, when the remorse caught up and gave him vertigo, you were the only thing that seemed worth it. Time stilled for a moment, leaving him to lay out his desires, weighing them with harsh realities. His decision wasn’t clear at first–not for a while either, vehemently denying the truth until the clock ticked towards the witching hour. By then, he had turned to watch the stars, standing in his window as his eyes traced the skyline, searching for answers on rooftops and antennas. Only as the moon poured through his window and painted him in epiphany, did he accept his fate.
So he pulled himself from the pane and tucked himself into bed with a woman he didn’t love. And he pressed an apologetic kiss to her forehead, sorry for both his betrayal and the way things could have been. And he rolled over, putting up the act of a faithful husband once more, letting go of the one who really wanted him. And as his eyes fluttered shut, there was only one thing he knew for certain.
Gerard could never have you.
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viperwhispered · 23 days
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I just wanna take a moment to say thank you for always being around to chat since I don't have many to talk to about TWST. I also suck at characterization so I don't write many fics. But I was very happy when you used one of our discussions for Revel in You. I don't mind if you use our convos to write, just be sure to credit the source.
On that note: saw your smut posts. Here's an idea: Jamil celebrating his promotion to being a Housewarden.
It's Friday, there's an enormous party going on to celebrate Jamil and Kalim's new roles and the successes of the first month with this new dynamic. While Jamil is more accustomed to the spotlight, he still gets "tired out" and leaves it to Kalim to keep the party going and organize the clean up crew. After all, he's due for a more private celebration of his own.
Fun fact: for a good chunk of snake species, the male will bite the females neck to hold them down while mating.
Imagine Jamil relentlessly taking his beloved from behind, deciding they're wriggling a bit too much. Delighting in the sounds they make as he pulls them towards him by the hair, he just bites the back of their neck as his body pins them to the bed. They'll probably be annoyed by morning, but Jamil's already got some concealers beforehand.
Did I forget to mention it's a Friday, Jamil no longer has roomates, and pretty much the entire dorm is still partying to loud music several hallways away?
Also worth mentioning that, as a healthy mature couple, all of Jamil's jealousy and possessiveness is addressed in a healthy manner so the relationship never turns toxic. This statement does not apply to the bedroom.
Aww thank you, always happy to talk with you too 😊 Plus like, if you’d rather talk over messages sometime in addition to the asks, feel free. (And this applies to anyone else reading this post too.)
Yeah iirc I was thinking a bit if I should ask you about using that ask as a jumping off point for To Revel in You, but I figured I was using it more as inspiration rather than rewriting anything you wrote or anything like that. And that since you sent that ask in the first place, I did kinda assume it would be okay to build off it. But good to hear I wasn’t wrong in thinking so, and glad you liked it.
As for characterization & writing: it really is a matter of practice, I’d say. Plus, like, everyone is bound to interpret the characters in a different way, or focus on different aspects of them. Which can be freeing, in a way, knowing that you can bring to the table something that no one else can, certainly not in the same exact way you would.
Also I was actually thinking of asking for some writing prompts since the current wip seems to need a bit more time to marinate, and here you are with perfect timing.
So let’s see what I can do with this concept.
If it wasn’t obvious: smut ahead. Written with fem / afab reader in mind but I think this could be read gender neutral as well since the only specific body detail mentioned is that reader has hair long enough for Jamil to grab.
The day - and the week, and the month - had been such a whirlwind that even Jamil had had trouble keeping up with it all.
Tonight, Jamil had basked in the praises from his dormmates, their congratulations and glowing words - and noted the cautious looks of those who still had not forgotten the events of his overblot.
He had enjoyed food that was not made by him, watched others fuss over the preparations and the serving - well, as much as he had been able to keep himself from giving direction. Still, even he had not been able to oversee every single detail, as much as he wanted to.
After all, both you and Kalim had been quite insistent, in your own ways, that this celebration should be for him, not by him.
So Jamil had danced, eaten, drank, listened, talked, so much so that now when the night was beginning to turn towards morning, he had more than had his fill.
Besides, tired as he may be of the crowd, there was still something on his agenda that he was more than happy to indulge in.
You had been teasing him with promises of a more private celebration - starting from when the party was decided on all the way to when you had been dancing together earlier - and Jamil intended to finally collect his reward.
You were outside for a moment of fresh air and quiet when Jamil found you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and nipping your ear.
“I remember someone promising to be mine tonight,” he murmured, voice low and husky.
You shivered, feeling Jamil’s lips on your neck. You’d half expected him to be too tired to turn your teasing into action. Yet, you certainly welcomed this turn of events, your own tiredness washed away by Jamil’s eager touch and his tempting whispers.
“You know me. Always love - ahhh - spoiling you,” you said - your words turning into a gasp when Jamil licked the side of your neck.
In no time at all you found yourself in Jamil’s room - as easy as it was to be distracted by each other, you both still preferred the privacy over lingering in the common areas of the dorm.
Jamil’s mouth was hungry on yours, his hands working quickly to rid you of your clothes.
Sometimes you wondered just how much Jamil was holding back in the presence of others, for him to get so ravenous as soon as you two were alone.
Not that you were any different, pulling away that long belt from Jamil’s hips so that you could slip your hands under his shirt, your lips covering every available bit of his skin with kisses.
It was always delicious, your naked bodies tangled together. That heady feeling of each other, both of you grasping and kissing wherever you could, like you could never quite feel enough of the other.
“So what would mister housewarden ask of me tonight?” you asked with a playful grin, nuzzling your nose against Jamil’s.
There was undeniable hunger in the way Jamil looked at you, yet also the warmth and softness of your lover that always filled your heart to the brim.
“Just all of you, albi,” Jamil murmured, pushing you down onto the mattress.
You’d entertained ideas of a celebratory blowjob, of taking care of Jamil tonight. But if he’d rather help himself to you, you were certainly not going to say no.
A few orgasms later and Jamil was pounding into you, firmly holding onto your hips while your face was pressed onto the sheets. His cock was invading your insides so hard, so deep, leaving you nearly senseless. You jolted helplessly every time Jamil slammed his way all the way in, the pleasure bordering on pain as it shot through your nerves.
“Ahhh, Jamil…” you whimpered, barely aware of the spot of drool you’d left on the bed.
“Too much?” Jamil muttered, one of his hands leaving your side to instead trail a soothing path along your spine.
“...No.”
It was a lot, your senses nearly overtaken by the intensity of it all - yet you didn’t want anything less.
Still, you couldn’t help squirming, your body twitching with every thrust, yelps and moans pushed from your throat no matter how much you tried to hold them in.
“Hold still,” Jamil grunted. 
He gathered your hair in his hand, making you gasp when he tugged. You could feel the pull on your scalp, almost like Jamil wanted to rein you in - or pull your face away from the sheets so that he could hear your cries more clearly.
“You’re all mine tonight, aren’t you? Mine to have, mine to enjoy,” Jamil breathed to your ear.
“Yes, yes, yes…” you whined, aroused beyond belief.
Always his, just as he is yours - but you had no time to vocalize that thought before Jamil’s weight pushed you prone on the bed.
Your gasp was cut short, turned into a sharp cry when you felt moist pressure at the back of your neck - a bite, you realized, some instinct telling you to keep still.
Not that you had much of a choice in the matter. Jamil’s hand, still gripping your hair. His mouth, latched onto your skin. His body, holding you down.
The weight of him against your back was almost suffocating, yet in a delicious way. Like you could be closer to him like this, more connected than just skin to skin contact - or penetration - could provide.
You could feel the rolling of Jamil’s hips against your backside, the way his cock was dragging along your insides. Not as harshly as before, yet intense enough to keep you trembling and whining with the little breath you could take.
And Jamil’s mouth, his teeth, never letting go. His muffled groans such a delicious sound, making you clench around him.
Such sweet torture, and you never wanted it to end.
Taglist since this turned into fic: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @perilous-pasta @twstgo @cannedpickledpeaches
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