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#fic: you only live twice
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i hate golden child Dick Grayson. everyone ignores how ANGRY this kid actually was. We rarely get accurate dick grayson, all the teen titans shows have been so off on his personality (you cannot tell me they accidentally made the character tim and realised halfway through wrong robin) and the fandom sees him as "oh everyone finds him attractive + he's Bruce's perfect angel and Jason hates him because of that"
no he literally killed the joker.
why do we skim over that he KILLED THE JOKER. He didn't even know Jason; bruce was his father and he not only refused to kill the joker, interfered when someone else tried to but hit jason in the same way after he came back. His SON. But dick felt so strongly about a kid he regretted not getting close to that he killed a man.
and then if you think that was a one off
in that panel where he fully BEATS Bruce's ass in gotham war? served. ate.
people dumb him down way too often like he wasn't the first robin. you cannot out do the doer so they gotta drag him down to bring others up.
not to mention the fanon portrayal ignores the trauma he has from liu, mirage and tarantula. it looks at that and goes "ok! cool but he IS a flirt :3" he isn't allowed to grieve in the comics either because SOMEBODY (devin) won't let him because he "didn't say no"
and give jason his own friends DC please stop giving him handmedowns he deserves more (i do love him and roy i just wish they also maintained the roy dick friendship because it's usually one or the other)
thabk yoau and gooenight
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deus-ex-mona · 11 days
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yurusanta: the ✨gift✨ that keeps on ✨giving✨
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btwn2lungs · 10 months
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142 days later and I am STILL thinking about:
"Those who shine brightest require the aid of the deepest darkness."
Irreversible damage was done to me that day. It's crazy because Shigeki has NO idea the implications that statement has.
The minute Shigeki mentions Kazuki's name, Rei is so quick to remove him from the situation. He situates any and all failures as solely his own and tries to separate Kazuki from the himself as much as possible. I think he tries to separate himself from Kazuki even more so after the incident with his mentor because the events of the night confirm that Kazuki is something Rei is not and that is a good person.
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storiesforsomeone · 1 year
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Magical Out of Context YOLT memes ✨(because we didn't get nearly enough in canon of the magical community reacting to Merlin's run-of-the-mill use of magic)
You Only Live Twice
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rapha-reads · 10 months
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Every single Merlin writer who remembers to include Kay in the ranks of Arthur's most important knights and make him a good man, you have my undying affection and loyalty. Kay is important, okay, dammit. And I'm not saying that just because Loaded March is my sacred book, but because he's literally Arthur's foster brother in the most ancient of the canonical texts. The fact that he is far too often set aside in contemporary adaptations/retellings in favor of the more popular knights like Lancelot, Gawain and Percival is a shame, I'm telling you. Put sope respect on his name.
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uniasus · 1 year
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A Merlin fic James Bond AU I'm reading called You Only Live Twice updated with a 25K chapter and I'm, I'm just in love with this fic, all.
“Time magic,” Drea burst out. “Please, for the love of all that is sacred, explain the time magic. I can’t deal with much more of this.”
“I… was very upset?” Merlin said. “So. I stopped it.”
“That’s what you’re going with?” Mordred demanded, his eye twitching a bit.
Merlin shot him an ‘alright, calm thy tits’  look. He wriggled in his seat as he thought, fingers tapping absent-mindedly on the wheel in a light, syncopated rhythm.
“Have you ever felt torn in two?” he began. “Like, literally, a part of you is ripping away, and if you don’t do something you’ll lose it, but there’s nothing you can do, and everything you want and need, the person you love most in the world is right there, close enough to touch but you can’t even do that, because there’s no time… and, then I realised that there didn’t need to be time, because the constructs I was trying to bend didn’t exist. I only had to shift how I was existing, and that existence in itself was in flux to begin with: ageing linearly, remembering non-linearly, experiencing relatively. I just had to shift my current state of existence into a pocket of reality that was in a slightly different state to everyone else’s. Attuning the passing of worldly time to my time, not the other way around. And. Yeah. That’s how I did it.”
“I hate you so much,” Galahad breathed. 
“Your explanations suck,” Geraint agreed. “Teach us. Please.”
Mordred massaged his temples. “So, essentially, you risked your life and messed with reality on the grounds of a split-second philosophical epiphany because you. What. Wanted to hug your boyfriend?”
“I missed him,” Merlin grumbled.
Doomed. They were all doomed. 
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ephhemeralite · 9 months
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listen. i understand the fact that aziraphale's part of everyday is a lot of new and interesting bits of character development that are very fun to tear apart. but i've seen tons of people discussing what heaven and forgiveness and crowley-as-an-angel mean to aziraphale without the corresponding look at what it means to crowley. so i would really like to do that
cw: discussions of abuse, indoctrination, trauma, and a Really Very Long meta post
it super surprised me when s2 opened on an angel!crowley scene because that kind of scene isn't typically necessary for the kind of character he is. crowley's character is one that revolves around the absence of who he was Before -- so you can understand all that you need to know about him by the ways that he deals with what he's lost (looking at where the furniture isn't, right?). he talks about stars and creation now because they were the most important parts of his angelic life and he cannot leave them behind. he mentions how he fell for asking questions because that's still a large part of who he is; he doesn't believe in hell's mission and he questions the goals and ethics of hell/heaven (the whole graverobbing ordeal, as well as the opening in s1 with hastur and ligur where you can see that his demonic strategy is fundamentally different from more traditional demons, not to mention having a permit from heaven during the job scenes and still disobeying orders according to his own morality). we get a really solid understanding of crowley and what he's about perfectly well from his current demon iteration, because the most important tenants of his character have stayed consistent or formed after the fall.
so what do we gain by such a scene to open the season? well, we learn that this is when aziraphale met crowley for the first time, we learn that aziraphale is immediately besotted by crowley, we learn that aziraphale expresses concern for crowley's questions (and imminent fall). this scene focuses on aziraphale experiencing crowley as an angel because this is an important moment for aziraphale's story, not anything to do with how crowley is or where crowley's story is going.
some other things we know about crowley are that he is the one constantly pushing for "their own side," for separation from heaven and hell, for a person that understands him as someone outside of the angel/demon binary. crowley is the one to approach aziraphale first as agents of opposite sides on the wall of eden, to suggest the arrangement, to convince aziraphale that armageddon would be bad and that they should work together to stop it. he's the one pushing aziraphale further from acceptable angelic behavior. hell, we even find out that he tempts aziraphale into trying food for the first time, which is aziraphale's greatest vice as a character.
this isn't because crowley wants aziraphale to fall or because he's set out to corrupt an angel, though. he sees aziraphale sin (or separate himself from heaven as a collective) first with giving away his sword, then through continued conversation with crowley (The Enemy), and the various other historical scenes where aziraphale lies or indulges in consumption or doesn't follow the divine plan to a tee. this culminates in the arrangement, which crowley sees as a concrete acknowledgement of the futility of heaven and hell, along the lines of "if we can both do the other side's acts and we're both canceling each other out, what's the point in doing any of this in the first place?" (this is NOT, notably, a question on the futility of life itself. crowley covets some material items like the bentley and alcohol that point to a personal valuation of living on earth, but he also has a strong and consistent emphasis on actual, living creatures: the goats, job's children, his plants, the children drowned during the flood, the antichrist, and the line from s2e6 where he says "if heaven kills all life on earth it will be just as dead as if hell had done it.") he believes that this is a clear indication that aziraphale no longer subscribes to the traditional opinions of heaven and hell. obviously, he discovers that he's very wrong come the last scene of season two, but it's helpful to understand the mindset he walks in with.
there's been a lot of gorgeous meta about how the two of them communicate and what their relationship is like in the present, so i'll try not to reinvent the wheel too much here while i look at the conversation in everyday. there's two particular things id like to look at: how crowley can never truly tell aziraphale no (this is pretty well-established so i don't feel the need to go into it, yes?) and the consistency with which crowley denies being the angel he was before the fall -- there are the unsubtle lines about not being the angel who fell, his time as an angel being a long time ago; there's also the slightly subtler moments where he refuses to acknowledge any memory of working with any particular angel/demon during their time as angels (both the pencil-pusher demon and saraqael, if not anyone else im forgetting), as well as his rather iconic reaction to being described as good or nice (this is typically interpreted as a reaction to being seen as not demon-like, but crowley really doesn't care about demons or hell beyond what his association requires. no one cares who's doing the job so long as it gets done, yeah? its more interesting to me to see these moments as times where crowley is described in angelic terms and refuses to let himself be seen as something he can no longer be.)
so if you take crowley at his word, what does it mean to no longer be an angel?
it means that there was a point where crowley was an angel, as we've both heard and seen. it means that he spent time in heaven, had a role, experienced and valued a lot of typically angelic things like kindness and forgiveness. it means that he was eventually cast out for, as we've heard and seen, being curious and headstrong. it means that he lost his place in heaven, his role, his identity, his values and experiences (using experiences here to refer to things he has done and can no longer do, rather than his memories, since i don't have enough textual substance to discuss any ideas i might have about memory). this is the really important part, i think: that crowley had all of these things and that they were taken from him because of who he is as a person (who he already was as an angel, before the exacerbation that came when he became a demon). not only that, all of this loss also took the form of an extremely traumatic fall (as in, a single event that caused crowley not only emotional but assumably physical pain, as well as being a generally physical ordeal).
abusive situations can often thrive because of the manipulation the people within them experience. unquestionable, morally just figures like parents to children or gods to angels get away with what they do because they are able to turn the victim's doubt around onto the victim (what i do is right because i'm The Parent/God/The Boss and you as The Child/The Angel/The Employee have no right to question me, thus if you do you must be Wrong) as well as the ephemeral nature of words (did they really say that or am i exaggerating to make them seem worse in my memory? this is where the physical aspect of falling comes in). this is something i fully see happening to aziraphale within the show.
however, one of the things that can knock an abused person out of their abusive situation is something that's too big to go unquestioned and an absence of the manipulating force to direct the shape of their conclusions. this is where crowley and aziraphale's character stories differ: crowley fell, lost all connection to heaven, and then had no one to tell him heaven was in the right and he the wrong. after landing in hell (which could have also been a bad and manipulative situation) crowley is removed from the manipulating forces by being stationed on earth, where he is allowed to experience life out from under anyones thumb (relatively), process this giant trauma and loss, and find his own answers. he then does what a lot of people who have been abused do when they're no longer being abused: he goes out and does stuff that he couldn't do before. this is where he meets aziraphale, who is also stationed on earth and doing a number of (aforementioned) things that don't align with heaven. the thing that crowley doesn't understand is that aziraphale hasn't had these same experiences that lead to crowley's epiphany nor is he isolated from heaven's manipulation (often seen as gabriel in the first season and metatron in the second). each time aziraphale does something that does not align with heaven's ideals, he either sees that as a reflection of what a bad angel he is or he tries to rationalize it into fitting into his/heaven's world view (the ineffable plan. it was literally right there this entire time i could SCREAM about this GOD'S INEFFABLE PLAN)
so aziraphale is holding onto this idea of an angel that does not exist anymore and crowley is projecting an understanding of similar experiences that did not happen. they're miscommunicating, wow, what else is new? we understand that aziraphale is rationalizing and being manipulated, but why did crowley act the way he did during the fight instead of falling into the familiar and consistent pattern of following aziraphale and going where he leads?
that's right, i said i wanted to talk about how crowley can never tell aziraphale no!!
from crowley's point of view, their entire relationship revolves around their experiences on earth where he has perceived aziraphale defying heaven and he felt intense kinship with that. he's delighted about giving away the sword, he watches aziraphale eat a LOT, they definitely like to drink together, he protects aziraphale from the consequences of lying (crowley protecting aziraphale from falling deserves a billion metas right this instant really). these are all major moments to crowley where aziraphale distinguishes himself from the celestial system. when aziraphale asks crowley for things, he does them because (yes, he loves aziraphale, but also) aziraphale is the one person across heaven, hell, and earth that crowley feels he is actually allied with. he has to go through the motions with hell, deal with all of the pain surrounding heaven, but this one angel is a place where crowley can be genuine, whether that be good or bad or none of the above (this is literally manifested physically within the text with crowley's glasses). the foundation of their relationship, to crowley, is their side. this is why crowley's reaction at the end of everyday is both so intense and pivotal: aziraphale asks crowley to join heaven's side with him and crowley says no.
crowley is not an angel. when crowley was an angel, before the beginning of time, he was too incompatible with heaven and so he fell. that is what being an angel got crowley. there have been some points made about how unhappy being a demon makes crowley and how sweet and innocent he seemed as an angel, but i think that line of thinking falls into the same trap that aziraphale does, which is in assuming that being an angel is in some way inherently better than being a demon, or that crowley wasn't unhappy as an angel, or that aziraphale isn't unhappy as an angel himself. because crowley is happy, when left to his own devices or with aziraphale. his unhappiness comes from the interventions of heaven and hell within his life (thus the importance of crowley questioning the point of heaven and hell and not life itself) because he would like to be separate from them, not restored to some prior state of belonging within their system. the truth is that crowley will never become that angel that aziraphale met again, because that's not how trauma ever, ever works, but that does not mean that crowley cannot have a full and meaningful life in his current state. he's not broken, he's just someone who has been rejected by heaven.
crowley responds to the most fundamental aspect of his identity being questioned and dismissed (i can make you an angel again), with, frankly, a respectably low-key amount of upset. he tells aziraphale that they're better than their sides because his ultimate goal is to separate their side from that of heaven and hell. when aziraphale reveals that he wants to fix heaven, crowley hears him. this is so important to me, because this is a moment where crowley is trying to communicate. he changes his approach and tries to speak to aziraphale instead of reacting out of emotion. after this moment, crowley doesn't speak out of anger at all, even in response to when aziraphale does. instead, he tries to confess his feelings to aziraphale and offers up the option to leave heaven and hell behind again. this is such an important moment because it's crowley trying to break out of their long, deep-instilled habit to hide and double-speak and he gets really close to saying what he means explicitly, even factoring how intensely emotional it makes him to do so.
his offer to run away isn't done to ignore aziraphale's needs but to show him that there is another way out, if aziraphale is willing to take it. there are other options that aziraphale hasn't considered, but crowley is, because crowley is still trying to solidify the existence of their side. from their side, they are free to ignore the angel/demon dichotomy and just be themselves, whatever that looks like. this is what crowley wants, above everything else in the world.
aziraphale rejects this entire concept when he lets go of his bookshop and earth as a whole with the nothing lasts forever line. aziraphale is rejecting earth, the middle ground that they've built their entire lives together on, forcing them into the roles of angel and demon exclusively. this, of all moments, is when crowley puts his glasses back on. because he cannot be an angel, the only role left to him is demon, and thus his vulnerability is not safe or welcome to be exposed to aziraphale.
crowley tries to acknowledge their life on earth twice in the next few moments: the nightingales, which represent everything they went through in the last season (which aziraphale is not thinking about, because he's already left their role as representatives of earth and/or humanity behind) and the kiss itself, which is as explicit as crowley is physically able to be about his own feelings and the future he wants them to have on earth as their own side. he is asking aziraphale, as well as he can, to stay. he's physically closing the divide between their roles in an attempt to show aziraphale how little it all really matters in practice and
aziraphale does the most angelic thing he possible could and Forgives crowley. this is not said out of kindness or as an instinctive reaction. aziraphale is angry and upset when he says this because, in some way, he understands what his words mean even as he does not understand crowley's actions or rejection at all. he reinforces the binary between them and acts vindictively (to parallel the insistence on the apology dance after the argument in the first episode) in retaliation to crowley denying what he sees as his gracious and miraculous offer of restoration.
the most important part of crowley's character to understand in this moment is that while he wants a happy life with aziraphale more than anything, he has extremely hard limits and heaven is one of them. his boundary here is a fundamental part of him and even his deepest desires cannot overcome them. as a fallen, crowley knows that who he is as a person is not angelic. as a fallen, crowley knows what its like to lose the most important, pivotal pieces of his life and start again. as a fallen, he knows that he survived it once. he tells aziraphale don't bother.
and crowley, who will be (and always has been) a demon if it means not being an angel, who has told aziraphale that demons are unforgivable, does the only thing he can do. he leaves.
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fluffypotatey · 1 year
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How’s the pillow fort going? ✨
it's going good! lost internet for a couple days so i bunkered down in there, but was unfortunately pulled back into the world. i may need to upgrade my fort's walls....maybe include some battlements
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I'm falling behind on reviews for some of the Buffyverse books I've read! Uh-oh! Going to attempt to try and change that now.
So, "Night of the Living Rerun" is definitely the best season 1 Buffy book, hands-down. It's not even a contest. This book is probably even way better than a number of some of the season 1 episodes. In fact, I kind of wish it was a season 1 episode.
The basic premise of this book is reincarnation, basically? Buffy, Giles, Xander, and one of the villains of the book keep having dreams to the 16th century--the Salem witch trials--where, IIRC, the bad guys had done stuff pertaining to the Master back then (did he have an incarnation back then?), in trying to get him to rise. And wouldn't you know, that it's the same thing again?
Buffy is the reincarnation of a Slayer, and Giles is the reincarnation of a Watcher. But what's really interesting, is that Xander is the reincarnation of a witch (which definitely freaks him out).
And the entire book, you're led to believe that Willow isn't one of the reincarnations. And she's left feeling pretty bummed about that, even though Buffy tries to tell her that she didn't want to be a part of this whole mess.
But at the end of the book, she does dream and realizes that she's the reincarnation of the preacher that the witch was in love with. That the witch used a spell to try and make him love her at first, it's true, but such spells don't last that long and he came to truly love her (and later realized this). And at first, he wanted to dismiss everything about her (and to allow her to burn) like he thought he should do, but in realizing that there must be some darkness in him to love her, he realized he couldn't do it. The witch then comforted him to not feel bad to discover there was darkness in him, as there was darkness in everyone. And they ended up together. And the book ends with the line, "Willow slept happily that night." (Because she's obviously in love with Xander in this point in the story, and her past self and his lived happily ever after, it would seem.)
I can definitely get why some people might think that the book ends in a WillowXander way--or might think that that's kind of soulmate-y with them there--and perhaps it is. But for me, they're not exactly those same people in their next life, and it just explains why they're best friends in their new life. And in their new life, they discover new things about themselves (like Willow with her sexuality)--because they are different--and find people who are even better for them romantically. But they are still linked, and will forever be important to each other as the best of friends.
I feel like it even sort of makes sense why Xander, a witch in a past life, wouldn't do anything with magic in the new one (because one, he isn't exactly that person anymore. And two, because hearing all of this scared him), and why "Willow"--someone opposed to it all at first--would then gravitate to it: because "she" was finally starting to accept the darkness in "herself" and within others in "her" past life.
Also, "Xander" once again used a love spell on someone, in this past life. LOL
And the irony, that in their old life, "Xander" wanted "Willow," and she at first wasn't interested in him, but in the new one, Willow wanted Xander, but he didn't want her at first.
Edit: I could even somewhat see Willow being a strong religious figure in a past life, since she's a somewhat practicing Jew in her current one.
Another thing about this book, is that it has a plot about the news almost finding out the weird stuff happening in Sunnydale and exposing it. And I feel like that's a trope that always happens in series like this, and I'm surprised it didn't happen in the TV show proper, so I did enjoy seeing it here.
That's about it... I feel like I mostly talked about the Willow and Xander past lives thing here (though I probably should have said more about other things), but oh well.
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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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causticsunshine · 1 year
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obsessivevoidkitten · 11 days
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Caught In His Web
Yandere Male Drider x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, painless/gentle noncon, venom, drugging, biting, light bondage, webbing, drider, spider-hybrid, oral sex, oviposition, dead animals wrapped in webbing, stalking, underwear sniffing, general yandere behavior. Word Count: 2.7k (A drider is technically an elf-spider formed as a punishment by Lolth, but this is just a human-spider hybrid with magic. Not technically a drider. But "spidertaur" just sounds off. Hope you enjoy, this was technically the first fic I started though I only resumed and finished it today)
You were an herbalist, you took plants and herbs from the wild fields, forests, and hills surrounding your small humble cottage. You expertly prepared the ingredients that you gathered and imbued them with the tiny bit of healing magic that you possessed. Magic in humans was very rare and your abilities and magical education were somewhat limited, but your potions, salves, ointments and remedies sold well enough in the town about six miles away on the other side of the forest.
Twice a month you made the journey there and back to sell your healing supplies. You made enough to survive on, and also enough to get you through the colder months when the healing plants you used did not grow. It was a modest life, but you were happy enough. Well, except for one thing... you were being followed...
At first, starting almost a year ago, you couldn’t get past the feeling that you were being watched from the shadows of the forest, occasionally you could swear you could catch glimpses of a large shape moving out of the corner of your eye or could hear something moving through the branches. You convinced yourself it was all in your imagination, or at least just some innocent woodland creature moving in the woods. For a month or so your denial was easy enough. You live by the forest, of course the animals must simply be getting more used to your non-threatening presence and getting a bit closer than they had previously. Everything was perfectly fine.
But then, about three months ago, things started to escalate. At first it was odd, but still explainable by the functions of nature. There were bundled up small dead animals bound in webbing left around in the places you most frequently gathered herbs and flowers. Okay, that is creepy, it must be some large spiders that are attracted to the birds and mice that are attracted to the insects drawn by the plants, perfectly normal and natural. You wish it would be perfectly normal and natural a bit farther away from you, but there was clearly nothing to worry about... except the fact that there are apparently a lot of spiders big enough to kill birds and mice in close proximity to you...
You could have dealt with the creepy large webs and the implied but unseen giant spiders, but then just a few days ago the bundles started being left on your porch for you to dispose of each morning. The webbed up animals were completely un-dessicated, killed and then just… left… A spider would not drop food for later in such an odd place. And what’s more the webbing now contained flowers woven into it, the flowers you most commonly used in your trade. No longer could you maintain any notions that the glimpses you saw from the forest, the noises you heard, and the web bundles were just coincidence.
The nearest humans lived too far away to keep up such a well maintained and menacing prank/threat, so you conclude that there must be some foul creature or malicious spirit that is stalking you. The past few days you were terrified and on the verge of freaking out, but you managed to maintain your calm composure. Besides, it has not escalated since then and today was the day that you went to the closest village to peddle your medical supplies, perhaps you could purchase some wards to protect yourself from spirits and talk to the local trappers, hunters, and elders to see if they know of anything dangerous lurking in the area.
You opened the door with a broom to sweep your doorstep, where you knew the web ball would be left. You shuddered as you swept it into the bushes and out of sight. So gross. You then went about your daily chores, and put the final touches on a last minute tincture. You put all your various vials, bottles, and other containers full of your merchandise into a large backpack that you put on before setting off on your way out the door and into the long path through the woods that would lead you to the village.
You started off at a brisk pace, there was no time to enjoy what would otherwise be a pleasant and leisurely stroll on a cool breezy day. You gripped the handle of the dagger in your belt tightly, in constant fear of what could potentially lurk just out of sight. You were paranoid and hyper fixated on watching the trees and path ahead for any possible signs of danger. So fixated that you completely neglected to watch where you were going. You did not notice a large bump in the path and tripped, you tried to get up but your ankle was sprained and you ended up flopping back over on your side.
This was bad, you were probably at least two miles into the forest unable to walk. Utterly helpless, with no more than a small dagger that in your inexperienced hands was mostly just for a false sense of security. But you couldn’t just lay here, you turned back towards the direction of your home and started ever so slowly dragging yourself.
You tried to do this as quietly as possible to not draw any attention to yourself, but you heard skittering and rustling in the bushes ahead of you.
Futilely, you hoped that it was just an animal or even the wind, but it wasn’t The being that had been lurking in the shadows and stoking your fears finally came forth.
A large drider came out of the trees. Like a centaur he was a creature that was human enough from the waist up but instead of a horse below that he was a giant white spider with black markings. From far enough away, and if the spider half were not in view, he could have easily been mistaken for a striking woman. His figure was slender and his hair was long and shimmered beautifully like silver in the rays of light that penetrated through the forest canopy.
But that is where the illusion ended for he had two fangs and four red eyes. He spoke in a cautious voice, as if trying to placate an animal that he feared may lash out.
“I’m Umzerth. I won’t hurt you, I promise.
You looked at him, trembling in dread and unable to take your eyes away as you scrambled backwards.
“Please no.” You repeated desperately in a frantic whisper.
The drider looked both concerned at your predicament and hurt by your reaction at seeing him.
“Please… darling… you’re hurt… just let me help you…”
“No, j-just stay back…”
“But your leg needs tending to my sweetling, I’ve never hurt you. I have proven I can take care of you by giving you all those plants you like. And food with them!”
“I am not interested in you taking care of me! Please just leave me alone… I have healing supplies with me…” Your voice faltered and it was clear that you were terrified of him.
Umzerth looked dejected, but he wasn’t going to give up. This was the first time he had properly met you and you were in pain. Surely you would accept him as your mate. He was so powerful and could take care of you. That’s what little humans wanted in a mate surely. He just had to calm you down and prove it.
The spider took a few tentative steps closer. You pulled your dagger from your belt and pointed it towards him. Your hand shook, more evidence of the fear coursing through you. He knew you’d never hold such a weapon to him if you were in your right mind. Maybe some of his venom would soothe you.
“Please put that away and let me help you sweetheart, my home is very close by. Your healing salves won’t work as fast as my methods will.”
You backed away a bit more, still holding up the dagger.
“I’ll take my chances.”
He moved with lightning speed and plucked the dagger from your hand, tossing it far away and out of sight. He spoke more forcefully.
“It would still take days to heal that foot. I can see the bruising from here. There are wild animals everywhere and I am not going to my beloved die out here because they were too damn stubborn.”
You cry out briefly as he bit down on your neck before an unnatural calm took your mind and your body went limp before fading into a relaxed sleep. His venom wasn’t at all deadly, not to humans, spiders, or driders. For a human it would merely give them a nice sleep. Which is exactly what you needed while he attended to your injury.
As you began stirring from your sleep you heard your name whispered. You woke to find your leg completely free of any pain, wrapped in silvery webbing. You could feel the thrum of magic within it. Much stronger than anything you could manage. Well… at least that proved he really wasn’t going to kill you.
“Are you feeling better, my little wild flower? I watched to make sure you slept well… I did take a break to catch you some food.”
The room you were in was unfamiliar, it looked to be a dwelling carved into stone. Likely at the base of the hills nearby. You were in a soft hammock made of silk. There was a wooden table next to you. Hand-carved. Umzerth apparently had grown accustomed to making his own furniture. Atop it lay a dead rat covered in webbing.
You recoiled at the sight.
“What’s wrong sweetling, it’s all predigested! You just have to bite and suck it out… don’t you like it?”
You didn’t say anything, but hopped up and bolted towards the exit. The ground was rough and cold on your bare feet, but you gave it no notice. You had to get away from this freak.
Umzerth caught you before you even reached the door.
“Let me go! I want to go home! Please!” You began sobbing and begging. Even if you were in no immediate danger he still frightened you. Thrust into a strange place with a terrifying creature and expected to eat… that… It was all too much.
“You ARE home my sweet flower!”
He caressed you oh so tenderly and claimed your lips with his own before setting you down on a cushioned chair that was far too small for him. Evidently he had prepared for your arrival for quite some time. Utterly disgusted with having been kissed by the monster, you wiped your lips.
“Are you upset with the food? Do humans not like that? I can learn to prepare human foods for you…”
He paced back and forth for a while with a nervous expression on his face, he wanted to make you happy and it was clear that you weren’t. How could he please you? He’d learn how to do that cooking thing he had watched humans do, but how could he make you like him more immediately?
Other than food that was to your liking hadn’t he provided everything a mate should? Shelter. Medical treatment.
Oh of course!
Sex!
You were being a whiny little human because you probably were desperate to copulate! He knew you were single since he had never seen another person at your dwelling, you probably hadn’t had a good dick like his in you in a long time, if ever.
You’d probably be all shy and bratty about it though. Natural first time jitters. He knew what would calm you down.
He scooped you up from the chair and, despite your struggles, gave your neck a little nip. Just a fraction of a full dose. You went limp again, but didn’t fall asleep this time. Your limbs felt too heavy and you felt really relaxed. You couldn’t muster the energy or will to fight anymore.
Umzerth gently placed you on a high stone shelf so that he was eye level with your crotch.
“I know just what you need to make you happy sweetling~”
You only groaned absently in response.
The drider gently peeled off your pants and underwear, taking it to his face and inhaling your scent deeply before placing it aside. The smell had him aroused in an instant. His erect cock poked out of a slit at his waist just below where his two halves met. Big and somewhat slimy.
He rubbed your soft thighs.
“Such a soft fragile thing.” He whispered.
He kissed up your thighs, occasionally giving them a careful nip, not enough to draw blood. He attended to you with a sloppy tongue and beneath the effects of his venom all you could feel was pleasure. You grinded into his face as you weakly stroked his hair, grabbing it harder when he brought you to climax.
He licked you clean as you shuddered.
“Ah, you fed me so well for worshiping at the altar between your thighs~”
You were even more relaxed now than when he had just bitten you, and just as powerless to resist. The spider picked you up carefully and shared another dominating kiss with you. This time sliding his tongue and brushing it against yours, smearing your taste buds with your very own flavor mixed with his saliva. A string of which connected your lips for a moment as he pulled away.
Then he held you as he positioned your body in front of his cock.
“Oh sweetling, you’ll look even prettier with a bellyful of my eggs~”
His words elicited just the smallest spark of worry in your envenomated mind, though it was quickly squashed when you felt his cock smear warm pre at your entrance. While holding you with one strong hand he slipped a finger in and out of you, slowly adding more one at a time.
Drooling and unable to articulate any thoughts, you moved back against his fingers.
At that he decided you were ready. He slipped his wet cock into you easily and with no pain at all, he had been very careful to make sure he pleasured his delicate flower.
He held you by your hips, gently rocking you back and forth along his shaft. You occasionally moaned softly. It felt so nice. So perfect. Like you were made just for this. Why had you been resisting again?
Umzerth started to go just a little harder, sure that his love could take it. With each thrust you let out a little gasp of pleasure. His cock fit itself into you beautifully, hitting every inch and making you feel full and sated in a way you never had before.
The fill of your shivering body as you had another climax pulled Umzerth over the edge with you. Powerful shudders racking the both of you in unison as his cock deposited small eggs deep inside you. Soft yet firm, they attached themselves to your insides. They would fertilize as they absorbed a bit of your DNA, then they’d fall out after a few days and then hatch a few weeks later.
Having deposited so many inside of his darling, your belly looked larger. He lay you in his web with him in the corner, rubbing your belly in awe. You smiled up at him and idly played with his soft hair.
“I’ll be back soon my love, I am going to get you something to eat.”
He wrapped you up in his webbing to keep you cozy before giving you a bit more venom to send you off into a short sleep. Then he covered the entrance to his den with his strongest webbing to make sure that you were completely safe while he was away. By the time you awoke he would have a good meal fit for any human. Then you would have nothing at all to be grumpy about.
This time he’d swipe a meal from the village, of course he’d leave them a gold coin in compensation since humans seemed to like those, and after that you could teach him!
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pomefioredove · 8 days
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now I'm actually invested in this idea. maybe I'll write a full length fic someday idk... for now I have short hcs
summary: crowley decides to "give away" yuu to the highest "donation" for financial reasons type of post: headcanons characters: all nrc students additional info: can be read as platonic or romantic, except malleus is pretty romantic, second person pov, yuu is gender neutral, maybe a little ooc I wrote this as soon as I got up
crowley has had his fair share of "what the fuck" moments from you but this was really taking the cake
he acts so... casual about it?
swaggers into ramshackle one morning and says times are tough and your personal expenses are straining the budget so he's decided to "put you in someone else's care"
"The screening process will be vigorous to make sure you end up in good hands!" like you're a cat or something "Your expenses will be covered and you'll have somewhere to go during break!"
okay great. pretty obvious you have no say in this, so you don't even argue. what's the worst that could happen?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel find you the next day to say they're pooling their money to buy you
"To what?"
Epel shrugs. "Oh, well Crowley said we need to offer a donation to prove we're capable of supporting you..."
(you think that if not for the laws of this land you would have slaughtered that old fart)
Jack goes on a really long tirade about how shady and underhanded this is, making sure to reaffirm that he believes you should be free to make your own choices
"So you'll let me go once you get me?"
"Uhhh..."
Ace thinks once they buy you you'll have no choice but to do all of his homework for him
Deuce says that's not really how it works- and even if he tried, Riddle would kill him
(they've already gone over this twice before finding you)
Epel happily volunteers to take you home with him over breaks, probably the only positive in this mess
even if he thinks the whole thing is kind of funny
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
incapable of keeping his mouth shut, Ace accidentally spills the plan to Riddle, who is understandably aghast
you can't just give away a person under your care like a toy!
of all the irresponsible things...
of course, he'll have to put up his offer, too
purely for your sake! with a nicer room and a brand new copy of the dorm rules, maybe you'll stop getting yourself into trouble
he's got some family money (doctors, naturally) and considers this a worthwhile purchase, for his sanity and yours
of course, Trey and Cater overhear and may or may not be pooling their own cash for a chance, too
going behind Riddle's back on this is a risky venture, but hey, someone's gotta be on your side, here, right?
I mean, between a bunch of sixteen year old boys, the housewarden, and them, who would you choose?
actually don't answer that
...not that it's much of a secret, anyway. Cater's already got their gofundme equivalent link in bio
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Leona initially plans to have you become a live-in lackey like Ruggie
but then he really starts thinking- and, hey, the possibilities are endless, right?
for one, you'd make a really good pillow
he might have to kick Grim out for your full attention, but you could learn to live with that
and malleus would hate it
...that's reason enough for him
plus, he's got money to burn, so why not?
either way, he sets his bid at a reasonable (maybe too confident) price and sits back to watch the chaos unfold as everyone scrambles for a piece of the pie
news travels fast around school, after all
then Ruggie finds out that you could dethrone him as Leona's #2 and is understandably a little annoyed
that's his cushy post-grad job gig, thank you! he's worked hard for that!
besides, why should Leona get to hoard you? the guy can barely take care of himself!
so, Ruggie ends up outsourcing to a few dozen classmates for the necessary funds at a steep I-owe-you price
he's gonna be eating nothing but dandelions for a while...
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
now, Azul is annoyed
once the news goes school-wide, it's all anyone can talk about
talk about good marketing...
why didn't he think of such a brilliant scam? he could have negotiated with Crowley to have a café brand deal tie-in!
of course, he's already set his bid, with Jade and Floyd offering to pitch in as necessary
it's a risky investment, sure, but a worthwhile one
Azul tells everyone that with the prefect's "obvious" popularity, having them at the café a few nights a week would drive sales through the roof
though that's really just what he says to shirk suspicion
a likely excuse coming from him, though, really, it would just be nice having you around
and if not for his own affections, Floyd's incessant begging and Jade's subtly manipulative comments about "how nice" it would be having a new face around would be enough for him to cave eventually
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
"Kalim, no," is the first thing that Jamil says
"I strongly advise against this. It's another one of Crowley's silly scams and you could end up a target bec- are you even listening?"
hint: he is not
the second Kalim found out that he could get to take in his favorite magicless student like one of his treasures, he was all over it
(AKA infinite sleepovers)
and for what? a little optional donation to prove he's got the funds? he's got cash to spare!
he's already got your new room in Scarabia set up before he even puts his bid in
right next to his of course :)
and despite what Jamil insists, he himself might be working behind the curtain just a little to ensure he's the one who ends up with you
after all, why should Kalim get everything? this might be a valuable learning opportunity for him
You don't always get what you want
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
as much as Epel tries to keep the rest of his dorm from finding out, it's inevitable
he's actually a little surprised that the news didn't get to Vil sooner
with Rook around campus, surely he must have said something...
when Vil does find out, though, he just sighs
oh, of course. what next, will everyone meet each other in the arena and fight to the death over the prefect?
of all the silly, immature things...
oh? what's that? he's bidding anyway? of course he is, silly potato. he can't have some unwashed miscreant making you sleep on polyester bedding
(really, he's the only person on campus worthy of your time)
Rook has also been mysteriously absent from the dorm lately, though his initials on a poem and a strangely large sum of money end up in the donation pile
but really, that could be anyone... Rook would never dare betray Vil again, right?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ortho finds out directly from the other first years and sends Idia the details immediately
with a little note of encouragement, of course: "could be excellent for improving your social skills!"
Idia understandably freaks out
"WTF!!!! nooo way! this is a person, not a chatbot we're talking about here! I can barely keep virtual pets alive!!!!"
(liar)
(...but this is still different)
the conversation ends there, but semi-anonymous bid from someone named "gloomurai" gets cashapp'd directly to crowley
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
everyone in the room immediately turns to Malleus
"For the record, I think it's wrong to be bargaining over a human being," Silver says first. "But if anyone could handle it with grace, it's you."
Lilia laughs. "Oh, you're just saying that because you like the prefect so much!"
"Father, you're the one who likes the prefect so much,"
"Oh, right! carry on then. After all, I'm sure we could share,"
Sebek is the only one relatively against the idea, though Lilia luckily manages to get him to lower his voice after his third speech about how you aren't good enough for his liege
Malleus is rather quiet through the whole evening, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with any of the points made
he disappears for a short while, and when he comes back he seems a little more confident
though, of course, he goes to you first
seeing him at Ramshackle in the middle of the night is a familiar and welcoming sight after all of the chaos of your week
and he's in a great mood!
"Child of man! I've come with news," he says. "I have heard of your predicament and have come up with a solution!"
you immediately sulk. "Oh, no. You know I think this whole thing is terrible, right?"
"Yes, Silver mentioned you might not like the idea of being bought and sold like a trinket. But worry not, I do not plan on paying for you in money,"
you pause, at a loss for words, and then tentatively continue. "You're not...?"
"Of course not. What a primitive idea, I was baffled to hear it myself. My proposal will be more traditional: a modest sum of treasure, and a generous amount of livestock and the finest crop Briar Valley can offer,"
certainly he's not this naive, you think
"You really think Crowley is going to accept that over money? I'm pretty sure Kalim just bid away an entire country's worth,"
he laughs. "You speak as if this is some kind of business deal! I'm quite confident that my dowry will be best,"
huh. that was a strange way of putting it
but then again, you still didn't really understand how things work here, so you go along with it
and you allow yourself to relax. he seems confident in his offer, and he doesn't even see you as some kind of prize to win!
"Oh, well, alright. Thanks! I'm glad you're on it,"
he smiles. "Rest assured, child of man, you're in good hands. My dowry will far outshine the others, and the wedding will be even better,"
"I was honestly getting a little nervous for a momen- wait- wedding!?"
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ivymarquis · 1 month
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The Neighbor
Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)
Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.
There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.
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Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.
His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.
She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.
He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.
The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.
And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.
But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.
He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.
The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.
For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.
He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.
That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.
So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?
John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.
He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.
It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.
The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.
“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.
“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”
John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.
If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.
“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.
“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.
“Get out.”
Oh.
John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.
Good fucking girl.
“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.
“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”
For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.
There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.
And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.
The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.
John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.
There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’
He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”
Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.
She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.
It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.
The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.
Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.
She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.
John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.
Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.
John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.
What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.
The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.
He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.
Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.
So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.
He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.
“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.
Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.
It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.
She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.
Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.
“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.
“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”
Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.
She doesn’t.
In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.
John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.
They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.
It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.
“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.
“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.
“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.
Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.
By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.
She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.
The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.
Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.
He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.
He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.
There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.
The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.
The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.
“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.
Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.
“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”
He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.
“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.
Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.
“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.
Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.
The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.
His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.
As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.
Well. That simply won’t do.
The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.
He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.
“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”
“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.
To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.
“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”
Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.
He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.
It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.
But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.
She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.
Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.
More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.
“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.
“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.
He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.
“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.
He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.
He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.
Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.
Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.
Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.
“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.
He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.
“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”
Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.
“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.
The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.
A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.
As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.
“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.
“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.
He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.
The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.
“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.
“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.
“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.
His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.
She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.
Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.
Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.
His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.
“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.
“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”
Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.
“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.
She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.
“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.
“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.
She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.
It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.
It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”
He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.
Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.
Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.
John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.
“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.
“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.
“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.
“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”
“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”
He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.
John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.
He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.
Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.
And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.
He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.
Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.
“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”
“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”
“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.
“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”
The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…
Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.
“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”
“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“
“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”
“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”
“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”
“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”
“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”
“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”
Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.
“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”
The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.
John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.
But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.
The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.
Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.
She’s awake.
“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.
She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.
“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.
She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”
It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.
Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.
Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.
He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.
Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡
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all444miles · 9 months
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— JERSEY LUV
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— pairing: e-42 miles x black!fem!reader — genre: suggestive, but fluff. — summary: attractive things Miles does that just make you fold instantly. — a/n: this was js in my drafts n i was like "i should post this" while yall waiting 4 my new fic !! the entire time i was writing this I was losing my absolute SHITTT. 😭 Like, i was dead by the first hc. this might as well be those "what's it like dating miles" type shi but i wanted to make it diff, yk? listen to some kind of fold-worthy song while u read this - anyways, im waffling. enjoy, mls !! part 2 part 3 !
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MILES MORALES that does not take your attitude. He loves you, yes, but if you do too much or talk crazy, he's gonna put you in your place. It's nun violent, of course, but he may just grab your neck once or twice.
"Chiquita, watch yo tone wit me." "Drop that attitude f'me." "Miss me with that voice, ma."
MILES MORALES that manspreads. that's it. that's all.
MILES MORALES that's always gonna call you by some kind of nickname. He just loves it, and you do too. Princesa, ma, hermosa, the list goes on and on. One time he called you lil mami (if you're shorter) and you actually lost it.
MILES MORALES that always has his hands on you. Your waist, your thigh, your face, everywhere. He just needs to make sure your there.
MILES MORALES that lives for your kisses and always kisses you. Doesn't matter the place, the time, nothing. If he wants a kiss from you, or wants to give you some, it's gonna happen. Especially when you have lipstick/lipgloss on.
"Mi reina, lemme love on you."
MILES MORALES that drives with one hand because his other always on your thigh. It's like his lil resting spot.
MILES MORALES that'll always let you know he misses you, he'll spam you with "i miss you" texts or voice notes w him going on abt his day when you not around ‹3
MILES MORALES that has social media but only uses it to post you. You the love of his life, why wouldn't he let evb else know that?
MILES MORALES that loves to spoil you. You like that pandora bracelet? It's yours. You have a shein cart? Its on its way. He loves to spoil his girl, its his love language atp.
MILES MORALES that always keeps eye contact with you and make sure you keep contact with him whenever yall talking. dont look away if he say sum that makes you fold, he gon grab your chin and make you face him 🤭
"Nah nah baby, don't turn away. Keep ya eyes on me."
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quick @ to my boo @laaailuh
© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.
likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !
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peachesofteal · 2 months
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Simple Math / Part Ten
Simple Math masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 5.4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Masturbation, dirty (self) talk, brief daddy kink. This fic contains mature themes. Domestic violence. Grooming. Feelings of fear and anxiety. Nurse!reader. Kissing. Lots of dialogue. Bun considers making a friend. Penny is cute. Flirting. Touching. Comfort. Bun refers to herself as "heavy". Simon is Simon. POV switch. Dinner date.
“I’m Philip.”
The handsome brunette smiles, grabbing onto your hand. You blink, trying to understand, trying to make it make sense, when he prompts you with a teasing grin. “This is the part where you tell me your name, sweet thing.” 
Oh. You stumble over it, tongue tied into a million knots, sweat from the Texas sun beating down your back, sweat slicking your shirt to your skin. 
He’s still holding your hand, and you’re standing there with wide, doe eyes, shell shocked. 
He’s… so handsome. And older. Older, and handsome. Polished type, with good teeth and good hair. He looks like he just stepped off the golf course. 
Why is he talking to you? 
He glances down at your drink. 
“You even old enough to be drinkin’ that?” 
“I-“ You’re terrible at lying, and like he can read it on your face, he chuckles. 
“You live around here?” 
“I go to Rice.” 
“A bit young for college, aren’t you?” 
“I just turned eighteen!” You’ve heard it a million times. You’re too young to understand something, or know something, or do something. You don’t get the way the world works yet. You’re not an adult. 
He holds his hands up. “I’m sorry. I bet you’re one of the really smart girls that make all us men look like Neanderthals.” Your face heats. 
“N-no. I just… I graduated early. I’m not a know it all.” You defend yourself, desperate to create distance from the usual stereotype, the way most people see you. The way boys see you. 
Too smart. Face buried in a book. Awkward and stiff. Uncool. 
He traces you from head to toe, appreciative gaze grazing over the swell of your hips, the generous curve of your ass. “I didn’t think you were. Too mature for that, I bet.” He croons, and your knees go weak. 
“Y-yeah. A lot of people say I’m really mature.” 
Two things compete for your attention when you open your eyes.
One: there is a soft, lovely song playing downstairs, something spring-like and sweet, vibrant without being too loud.
Two: the house smells like pancakes.
You check your phone, shocked to see you’ve slept for yet another 12 hours. There’s a text from Nia, and a text from your boss.
>You have a lot of time accrued. Take as much as you need. 
That settles that, you guess.
There are also text messages in the group chat, one from Simon, and one from Johnny, coming in only a few minutes ago.
Simon: >Penny gets pancakes on Saturday mornings. They’ll be plenty, come down and eat when you’re ready. 
Johnny: >I’m missing all the good stuff. 
You stretch, cautiously, wiggling fingers and toes, spreading your limbs as far as you can without pushing it too much. You’re sore, uncomfortably so, and still exhausted, but if you stay in bed any longer, you’ll rot.
In the kitchen, Simon holds Penny and a mixing bowl, alternating hands to get a whisk through the batter while humming to his daughter on her hip.
You stop dead in your tracks.
He’s… he’s not wearing the mask. 
You stare at his face, his whole, naked face for the first time, taking in the broad jaw, every shiny white scar, and his (twice, if you had to guess) healed broken nose. He’s handsome, differently from Johnny but no less striking, and you can’t look away, stunned by his raw, depthless and rugged beauty. Penny’s leg has kicked up the hem of his shirt, exposing his midsection, and the flash of skin there feels like a scandal, something you shouldn’t be seeing but cannot get enough of. He looks nothing like you expected and yet… everything you hoped for.
“Morning.” Pen tucks her face into his chest shyly, peeking out from the corner of her eye, curious and cute. “Can you say good morning to bunny?” He bounces her a little, and she giggles.
"Bunny." She says quietly, and Simon laughs.
“That’s right. Good job.” After a second of silence, you try to ask him about the missing mask, but the question gets confused on your tongue, and what comes out instead is clumsy and stunted.
“Your mask.” You cringe, immediately. It’s the first thing that slips loose, insensitive, and uncouth. “I uh, I’m sorry, I’m just… surprised?” you falter, and makes it worse. You think about trying to run back upstairs, hightailing it for the hills when he smiles, and points to the empty stool at the kitchen counter with a batter covered whisk.
“Sit.” There’s already a stack piled high, plain, and ones with big, juicy blueberries. Your favorite. 
“So, pancakes every Saturday?”
“Mhmm.” He settles Penny in her highchair to your left, and pulls an already cooled pancake from the stack, cutting it up into little, tiny pieces with a child’s knife and fork. “Pen and her Da,” he pads some butter across the top of his handiwork, grabbing her sippy cup and filling it with milk. “Have pancakes every Saturday when he’s home. It’s their favorite. Right?” He points at her, “your favorite?” and taps his middle finger to his chin, others outward, straight up. “Your favorite?” Signing?
“Are you teaching her sign?”
“Trying to. Pen’s birth mum is deaf. It’s important to us, that she’s able to connect with her when the time comes. Plus, my hearing is shot. So is Johnny’s. It’s a great way for her to communicate with us.” He strokes some fingers through her curls, and she doesn’t even look up, too busy shoveling as much pancake into her mouth as she can. You have a million questions now, curiosities bubbling to the surface, about Pen’s mum, about her life, about how she came to be their child. All too rude, and too invasive to ask. “Or, to use when she’s feeling sassy and can’t find the words. That happens, too.”
“She’s what…sixteen months?” You watch her intently, unable to not smile when she cheeses at her dad with a mouthful of food, even though your tender skin stings with the movement.
“Yeah. Top percentiles in a lot of things for her age. Said her first word before she was one.” He’s rich with pride, a deep well of love shining in his eyes, and you force your own down to the plate, stifling the ache bleeding from your heart.
“Of course she is.” Penny holds pieces of sticky, syrupy pancake with both hands, attacking them with vigor, smearing her cheeks purple with the squished blueberries.
You need to eat something, but your brain is buzzing, unnatural discomfort stretching long in the back of your mind.
What’re you doing? Sitting here eating pancakes like everything is normal? Like everything’s okay? 
Everything is not okay. 
You drift, back to your apartment, back the venom of Phillip, the hands around your neck, the twist of your shoulder, back slamming into the wall. You can still feel him, still hear him, these memories like all the others, your body beaten on the floor, mind nearly broken. Trying to shift away from the hot end of a cigarette, screaming for help, running through a-
A hand covers yours.
He coaxes the fork from your fingers, metal vibrating within flesh.
“I think… I think I should go back to bed.” You whisper.
“Are you tired?”
“No… yeah. I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to run away, you know.” He flips a pancake onto your plate from the stack. “Just because you were somewhere else for a little bit.” Your cheeks burn. “We’ve got a pretty nice couch in the living room though, if you want some time alone and don’t feel too keen on the stairs.” Saturday morning pancakes and curling up on the couch? It sounds so nice, so normal, and must show on your face, because he chuckles. “Help yourself. You might have to share the TV though, in a bit. We watch baby Einstein on Saturdays, and she’ll need some entertaining for a minute while I get ready.” Your lips twist, an entire hearth lighting up in the bottom of your heart.
“Alright.”
Baby Einstein is as enthralling as you thought it would be, though Penny disagrees. She stares at the screen, wide eyed, open mouthed, sippy cup long forgotten, and even Simon struggles to get her attention after returning from getting dressed.
You force your eyes away from the strain of his thighs in blue jeans.
“We’re goin’ down to the hospital.” He tells you, pulling her upward over the back of the couch and rubbing his nose through her curls. It’s still… weird, to see his whole face. To clearly watch his expressions, sublime bliss pushing his mouth upward whenever he looks at his daughter. “Want to come?”
“I can’t, not if I’m taking time off. It… looks bad to admin. I can probably go in at night but, during the day is just a recipe for disaster.”
“Of course.” He looks around, for what you don’t know, shoulders tensing, then relaxing. “Well, you’ve got the remote. And my number. Are you… going to be, okay? Alone?”
Say yes. 
You can’t. All you can do… is nod.
“Okay well if you’re not. Just call.” You nod again, getting to your feet. Once you’re standing, you’re out of place, flailing in their living room, about to be here alone, with your memories, your poisoned mind.
What’re you doing? You’ve ruined everything. Broken all your rules. 
“We can stay.” Simon steps close, hand grazing the middle of your back, and you shake your head.
“No, no- I… I’m sorry.”
“You don’t-“
“Yes, I do.” Your voice shakes, and you slam your eyes shut. You can’t do this. “I shouldn’t be here. I’m putting you in danger, and I… I’m putting myself in danger and I’m being so- so stupid, Simon.” His gaze is heavy, serious, and he steps around you, sliding Penny into her bounce seat, turning it to face baby Einstein.
“Listen to me.”  As he returns, he reaches, carefully pulling you close, close enough you’re nearly in his chest, timing the rise and fall of his diaphragm. “We are safe, you are safe, sweetheart. ‘m not going to let anything happen to you, or Penny, or any of us. Alright?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Tell me.” You almost laugh, but something comes over you instead, something delirious and desperate. You lean into him, letting him hold you, hand smoothing over the back of your head. “You can tell me. You can trust us. We’ll take care of you.”
God, you want to. You want to so bad it aches, burns a ravenous fire in your heart. You want tell him, let them in. Tell them everything.
“Bun.” He murmurs, bringing you back, a finger under your chin.
“I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s… it’s too much.”
“It’s alright.” He soothes, but doesn’t pull away, and you’re drawn in like a magnet, rising to the balls of your feet, stuck in a trance, luring you closer.
He meets your halfway.
And then-
He’s kissing you, plush lips on yours, pancakes and fresh laundry and stained-glass windows of sanctuary on his tongue.
You’re standing in the sun, in the trance of another spell.
It’s a mouthful of butterscotch and maple. Sweet, delicious breakfast in bed, lazy Saturday mornings and whispered, tender words. It’s life unlike your own, a home, the promise of a love not fractioned, chipped away, or strangled… but multiplied, magnified. His touch is painfully gentle, slow and easy, encouraging you to follow his lead, carefully constructing a tiny universe to disappear to, where shadow cannot touch. A fantasy, cocoon of stars, ambrosial and sacrosanct, an escape from the hell nipping at your heels, the hell chasing you through your dreaming and waking hours. 
The anxious hum radiating through every cell in your body flatlines.
The girl in the mirror weeps.
Everything goes silent. Your breathing slows. Your hands fall to the side, listless and stunned.
Penny grunts. The moment shatters.
You can only stare with wide, terrified eyes.
“Johnny.” It’s the first word out of your mouth, the only thing you can conjure. “I’m sorry, I don’t know… I’m sorry.” Johnny. Johnny’s not here. How can he kiss you when his partner isn’t here? His heart will be broken, you’re destroying their family, you’re-
“I kissed you, bunny. Nothin’ to be sorry about.” Simon hums, still holding your face. “Johnny’s okay. He’ll be a bit jealous he didn’t get one too, but he won’t be upset.”
“How?” the question squeaks, and he takes your hand, tugging you towards the couch, settling you back into the cushions, easily guiding you with deft hands. He's so careful, so gentle, the touch of a man who raises a daughter, who loves his partner, adroit and nimble, anticipating movement before it happens. 
“After Penny goes down tonight, let’s have a drink. Or some late dinner. We can talk, and I’ll answer as many of your questions as I can. How’s that sound?” He strokes a thumb across the apple of your cheek. Talking can’t hurt, can it?
“O-okay. Yeah.” You try to shrug, pain lancing through your shoulder, and you try to smother your wince. He frowns.
“I want you to get some rest today.” A small grin creeps across your face.
“You always tell people what to do?” He nods, solemn.
“It’s my job. Takin’ care of you lot is an added bonus.” He breezes by the grouping of you with his family, like it’s a normal thing, rubbing circles in your palm. “Let’s get you comfortable.”
“I can-“
“I’m here. Let me help.” You don’t say anything at first. Can’t say anything, can’t formulate a response that encompasses everything you’re thinking and feeling, stuck on the mile high wall that is your fear and denial, afraid to jump. Afraid to fall.
He doesn’t push. Doesn’t ask you to respond, He just… settles you, cautiously arranging the pillows to support your injuries, lets you sit there atop the wall, staring down at the ground where they wait. Patiently. He rubs your back and your good shoulder until you’re drifting away in heady, hazy dream world, unable to stir when he slips free, tucking the blankets in around you, and pressing another long, lingering kiss to your brow.
You wake in a panic to the doorbell ringing. Your heart races, and you’re up off the couch, tucked around a corner of the hall, hiding, in a blink, even though your shoulder and neck scream at the sudden change of position.
Breathe. You’re losing it. Philip wouldn’t ring a doorbell. 
The door clicks open.
“Hello?” A woman’s voice echoes to where you’re still curled around the hallway, back pressed flat, eyes closed. “Hello? Anyone home?” Who is that? 
You peek, like a child. Peering around to see a familiar woman with grocery bags in her hands, depositing them on the kitchen counter.
She spots you immediately.
“Hi!” She’s grinning, pretty and bright, pulling a carton of milk from a brown paper bag and putting it in the fridge. “I’m Lou. Sorry, did I scare you? I tried to ‘announce’ myself.” She makes bunny ears with her fingers before and after the word announce, with half of an eye roll. “John’s always telling me I have to when I come over. Can’t be giving anyone surprises, and I knew you were here. Just wasn’t sure if you’d be up for visitors. Sorry if I gave you a fright.”
“No, I…” you trail off, readjusting, giving her your name. She nods and smiles again. “I remember you. In front of the elevator that day.”
“Yeah, that was me.” She’s earnest in her focus, beaming at you, almost like she’s excited.
“You look a little different out of your cute scrubs.” That gives you a small laugh, and you smile honestly at her, flattered.
“Thanks.”
“Sorry if I’m disturbing you.”
“Oh no, you’re not. I was just… I’m fine.” She pulls a flat of eggs free and stacks them next to a colorful pile of produce.
“I do the store runs for Simon right now. It’s too much, with Johnny in hospital and taking care of Pen. We’ve been trying to lighten his load.” Guilt twists. And here you are, adding onto it. 
“That’s very nice of you.” She waves it off.
“They’ve kept my husband alive a million times over. It’s the least I can do.”
“Right… they… work together?”
“Simon is semi-retired but yeah. They’re in a global task force. It’s the four of them. Have you met Kyle yet?”
“Oh, yeah. At the hospital one day.”
“Best guy, really.” Her clothes swish, warm and sweet aura practically glowing.
“Yeah, he was really nice.” She rests her hands on her hips and looks you over.
“You okay?” This woman is direct. She's got a no nonsense approach, and through intense, there's true ardor in her, passion and care. 
“Yeah, I’m just… still recovering.” You don’t know what she knows, not sure what they’ve told her or John, so you’re not sure how much, or what even, to say.
“Simon told us, about you being mugged. I’m so sorry, it’s just awful.” She’s sincere in her sympathy, big brown eyes sad and considerate.
“It’s okay, thank you. I’m okay.”
“If you need anything, I’m always around. Or if you want to talk to another girl that isn’t a toddler.” It’s an olive branch of friendship, you realize, or the beginnings of, and you’re startled, considering it, wondering if it would be so bad… to have a friend.
“Thank you.” She gives you her number, and you tap it in, shooting her a text with your name.
“You should sit.”
“I can help with these.”
“No, no. No offense, but you look half asleep. I’ve got it.” You laugh even though it hurts, awkward half shrug with good shoulder, and agree.
“Yeah, I’m still recovering. It’s been slow.”
“I’m sure.” You sit at the counter, watching her organize the fridge with scary efficiency. “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. Just had to drop these off.”
“Oh, you’re fine.” It’s nice. You’re nice. She feels safe, the proximity to Simon and Johnny naturally leading you to feel comfortable, knowing she’s welcomed by them, she’s a part of their life. It makes you feel more at ease, and you try to convey it without getting tangled up in awkward words.
You don’t know how. Not really sure how to make genuine friends anymore, so you just sit there and watch, listening to her talk, enjoying how she rambles a little bit, laughing at herself.
When she says goodbye at the door, she promises to text you the next time she’s coming by, so you’re not surprised, and you linger there, watching her go, wondering if it’s real, surprisingly mourning the loss of companionship already.
“Johnny misses you.” The ice in Simon’s rocks glass clinks together as he sips his bourbon, corner of his mouth lifting in a partial smirk. “Not too fond of his new nurse, I’m afraid. Think he’s spoiled now.”
“How is he?” You’re on the edge of your seat for an update, but not wanting to pry too much. It’s a delicate line, one where you don’t know on which side to stand.
“Good. Wrist fracture is nearly healed, so he’ll be able to start on crutches soon. Once he does, he’ll be doing physical therapy for most of his day, and ready to come home. Should be soon.” He really smiles now, and you mirror it, unable to deny the infectious bloom of happiness spreading from him to you.
“And his liver?”
“No complications. Grafts for his burn are in great shape. Hip is the trickiest part.”
“Yeah, they take a lot longer to heal, but I’m sure he’ll do a great job of it, just like everything else.”
“Thanks to you.” You sip your wine, citrusy peach and passionfruit coating your tongue. It’s a nice bottle, and you were surprised when Simon brought it home, bag of takeaway in one arm, Penny in the other.
“No.”  Your cheeks heat. “I was just there. You guys did the hard work.”
“Wouldn’t have made it without you though. Think I would’ve lost it. Him too.”
“You would’ve been fine.” You brush it off, and he shakes his head.  
“You’re too modest.” He drains his pour, uncapping the bottle on the coffee table between you and refilling it halfway. Glass on glass chimes, and you sink deeper into the couch, relaxing, tucking your knees up until you’re half curled into a ball, wine glass cradled between your palms.
“So…”
“I told you; you can ask me whatever you like.” You knew this was the case, but hesitance is still brimming in your heart, uneasy feelings festering beneath your skin, burning question shoving to the surface.
“Did you tell Johnny we kissed?”
“I did.”
“Was he upset?”
“Only because he feels like he’s missing out. I told him we’d make it up to him.” Fire enflames your skin. We?
“And by we you mean… us. Together. Like… the three of us.”
“I do.” The girl in the mirror screams. She doesn’t understand, why you continue to act against her better judgement. Why you’re entertaining something so, so dangerous, something so stupid.
“Simon, I… I can’t.”
“You keep saying that but look where you are, bun.” He motions to the table, takeaway cartons scattered across the top, half empty bottle of wine, his bourbon, and a baby monitor. It looks like a nice night in, a simple, sweet life, not even close to being your own.
Still, the girl in mirror combats. Still.
“This isn’t… this isn’t a thing it’s just… we’re hanging out. I’m not going to be here forever, I’m looking for a place and I-“ His face changes, flicker of shadow fading across his brow before being chased away by the sunlight in his eyes. You thought he'd be easier to read, without the mask, imagined you'd be able to place his expressions but you're just as confused and lost as ever. 
“Slow down. There’s no need to look for a place to live.”
“W-what?” The wine has made you a little slow, a little sleepy, and you blink through the stupor.
“You’re still healing, sweetheart, and I know you're scared. I’ve known since the first day you stepped into Johnny’s room.”
“No.” You shake your head. Pain fizzles, numbed by alcohol, and your head swims.
“I know you weren’t mugged.” How? “I know you’re running from someone.” Oh god. The urge to get to your feet and bolt washes over you like a wave.
“I- I’m not.” The lie is bare-boned, pathetically unconvincing, and you know it. He knows it too; you can tell by the look on his face.
“You’re not ready to tell me, that’s fine. I’m patient. But you won’t be going anywhere if I don’t know you’re safe. And right now, to me, it doesn’t seem like you’re safe.” The pale yellow of your wine shines in the low lights of the living room, and you get lost in it, swirling around in his words, trying to put them together and pick them apart, desperate to understand what he means.
“Are you… are you saying you won’t let me leave?” You gulp. It’s a ridiculous conclusion, but the first one you jump to.
And in that, you know you’re giving too much away.
His face softens, and he reaches, pulling your free hand into his own, petting some sort of sequence into your skin. 
“Of course not, sweetheart. I’d never, ever force you to do something you didn’t want to do. But I do want you to stay, here with us. Where we can keep you safe, take care of you.”
“I don’t need-“
“I know you don’t. I know you take care of yourself just fine.” The indignant roar in the back of your mind settles. “But I’d love an opportunity to do it instead.”
“Simon…”
“Did you know the cells in our body hold onto trauma? They carry imprints of traumatic events. It can change your biology, the way you function.” He squeezes your hand. “It’s hard to realize… that it’s not normal, the way you might be, the way you think, or do things, when you’re carrying the physical memory of terrible things.” He’s not talking about you. There’s a fleeting flash of sadness in his eyes, ghosts circling the drain around his irises, and your heart aches. “We can help you. I don’t know who you’re hiding from, but I can guess what they’ve done- look at me.” You force your eyes back to him, and he cups your cheek. “You do not have to be afraid here. You are safe with me, with us. I know you don’t believe it, and I’ll tell you as many times you need, but it will never not be true. We can help you.”
“You don’t know… you don’t know what you’re saying.” Your denial is steadfast. They cannot possibly understand. 
A small seed of light blooms under darkness. It’s the sun, struggling to break free, trying to drag you into its warm, golden rays. It tugs and tugs, clawing towards you, illuminating the path forward.
The words come out before the girl in the mirror can stop them.
“You don’t know him. He’s sick and… powerful. He’s a monster but he’s smart, has connections, has ways of doing things that… I don’t even know. He’d kill you.” You clap your hand over your mouth in shock, surprised at yourself. It’s the most you’ve said about Philip in years.
You expect pushback. Expect Simon to flinch, or cower, or have good sense… a rational reaction to being told someone might try to hurt him.
He smiles instead, settling back on his side of the couch.
“I’d just have to get to him first, then.” Is he… is he? Simon watches you, reaches into your brains to peer inside, rooting around in your head. The way he looks at you, like he knows everything you’re feeling, can see what you're thinking, makes you shiver, makes you feel like you’re a tiny mouse in the shadow of a mountain. He sighs. “Give us a chance.”
“A chance?”
“A chance, to know you. Let us in, let us try. Stay here, with us, spend time with me and Johnny and Pen. No strings attached. If you decide it’s not for you… we’ll understand.”  
No strings attached. 
You could pick up and leave if you wanted. If you had to. 
What’re you doing? 
“How does it work? Would we all…” you trail off, confused.
“Date?” Simon finishes gently. “Yes.”
“So, you guys are… bi?” He chuckles.
“Yes, sweetheart. We’re bi.”
“Is this… a thing? Something you guys do?”
“We’ve never taken another partner before, no.” Your eyes widen. “You’re our first.” You don’t know why, but knowing is exhilarating and terrifying, all at the same time. You’re their first. 
He’s talking about it like it’s already happened. 
Fatigue settles in around you, thick fog of it draping over your shoulders and clouding your head.
“I… I don’t know.” You stifle a yawn. “I need to think.” He abandons his perch for one next to you, pulling your wine glass free and setting it on the table.
“Tired?” His fingers sweep over your cheek, skin warming under his touch.
“Mhmm.” You mumble, sleepily. Your head is very heavy, suddenly, hard to hold up.
“Alright.” He stands, bending to slide an arm under your knees, the other supporting your back in one fluid movement.
“What are you doing?” You squeak, grabbing onto him as he rises, lifting you into his chest at full height. Panic floods your nervous system, fevered tone pitching into a plea. “Put me down! I’m too heavy. Please, I’m too heavy, you can’t-“
“I’ve lifted a car off a teammate before.” He tells you, the thick of his body beneath your ear vibrating. “And I’ve dug Johnny out of a collapsed concrete wall. I’m made to pick things up, bunny. Heavy or not.” He holds you right there, all the way up the stairs, down the hall to the guest room, before settling you back on your feet, big hands around your waist for balance. Your back is to his chest now, and his nose drifts across the top of your head, slow path of his fingers stroking down your hip. “Alright?” He asks, and you nod, throat too dry to speak.
He squeezes. You stifle a gasp, resist the urge to press your thighs together.
It’s been so long since you’ve been touched, since anyone has handled you with reverence, with affection. You almost don’t recognize it.
His hand drifts, slipping between your thigh and cheek. “This okay?” He murmurs, and you manage a rough yes, word sticky and thick in your throat. Yes. Yes, don’t stop. A fingertip strokes along the crease there, back and forth, before trailing upward. He takes as much of your flesh in his palm as he can, squeezing again, caressing, mouth skimming along your neck.  
“Oh.” you breathe. The room is warm, barely lit by the bedside lamp, and you burn in the dark, sensations sparking alive that have long laid dormant.
The girl in the mirror curses you.
“Need help getting to bed?”
“N-no.” Yes! “I’m… fine.” His lips touch your cheek, then your ear, breath blowing over you, firm, solid warm mass at your back exhaling shakily.
“Get some sleep.” He steps away, but not before he swings, slowly, softly, into the pillow plush of your ass. It’s a gentle tap, but the fire between your legs roars. “Goodnight, bun.”
“G-goodnight.”
Simon's got his sweatpants and boxers off before he's even fully in the bathroom, running right into the shower, hand wrapped around his throbbing cock as the water flicks on. It's not hot enough, but he doesn't even notice, cock heavy in his grip, tip already smeared wet with pre-come. 
"Fuck, bunny." He grits, trying to stay quiet but unable to hold his tongue.
He's awful, for this. Awful for doing this after you've had such an emotional night. Awful for touching you when you're still healing, awful for grabbing a handful of your ass and imagining sliding his dick through the space between those cheeks. He can't stop, strokes himself long, squeezing the base and pulling up and back as he imagines you on all fours, perfect globe perked up in the air for him, his cock sinking into your soaking wet pussy as you moan. He knows you would make the prettiest sounds for them, sweet gasps and cries, bouncing on Johnny's cock in his lap. 
"Hop like a bunny." He'd coo, and you'd whine, riding Johnny as Simon coached you until you were so close, almost there on the edge. "Show daddy how bad you want to come, little bunny." 
He jerks himself harder, eyes closed, imagining the ripple of your flesh, the way you'd bounce so perfectly, how Johnny would be gripping your hips with his head tipped back, throat exposed for Simon to nip and suck a mark into.
His bunny. His boy. 
His toes curl. Water streams down his back, slicking his skin, forearm burning with each stroke, imagination running wild as he gets closer and closer, thinking about you and Johnny and him together, finally, your legs spread wide in front of their faces, perfect pussy on display. He can almost hear the way you'd whisper their names, and it blinds him, fills his head with white light. He knows you're beautiful when you come, as beautiful as you are when you let your guard down and give him a real smile, as beautiful as you are everyday, so pretty and perfect, kind, even as a ghost. He imagines it, pictures it, the sight of his and Johnny's come leaking out of your hole, fingers shoving it back inside, marking you as theirs. 
He comes with your name on his lips, a strangled whisper, painting the tile with himself. 
He falls asleep with a new addition in their bed, on top of Johny's t shirt and the baby monitor... there's now a long sleeved tee, plucked from your dirty laundry this morning as he was getting ready to leave. It smells like you, something he wishes he could bottle, and he holds it close, tied in tandem with Johnny's, curled in his arms on top of the pillow. 
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