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bisexualiteaa · 13 hours

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actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want

A Flame in Your Heart

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader

AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️

Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.

“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.

“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.

Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.

“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.

Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.

He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.

When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.

When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?

“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.

“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.

Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.

Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.

In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.

As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.

“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.

It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.

“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.

By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.

It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.

“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.

#fallout x reader #fallout smut #fallout #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #sole survivor #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #asks

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wannabespacesmuggler · 2 days

Text

D.D. | Shane's Girl

Part Six | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female!Reader

Warnings: Shane Walsh sucks, unedited (I will get to it later, I promise)

Word Count: 1.2K

Author’s Note: Oof—alright, it's been a hot second, everybody. Apologies for going MIA for a while (life, y'know?). I haven't forgotten about this fic and I know that none of you have forgotten about it based on the amount of notes and messages I get (which I appreciate greatly). Thanks for sticking it out with me guys. Excited for you all to see what I have planned in the coming chapters. In the meantime, let me know what y'all think of this one & let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

“Fuck!”

The expletive escapes your lips before you can think twice about it. You nervously look around the camp, searching for Carl and Sophia. The last thing you need is for Lori and Carol to get on your case because you accidentally taught the children swear words. After realizing that neither of them is in earshot, you let out a sigh of relief.

You look down at the garment in your lap. Shane had thrown a pair of his cargo pants at you earlier this morning, grumbling about a hole in one of his pockets. You had woken up earlier than him, probably because he had returned to your shared tent far after everyone else in camp had retired for the evening. This was becoming somewhat of a routine for the two of you: Shane sneaking around in the middle of the night thinking you’re asleep; meanwhile, you spend the restless nights in your tent waiting to see if he actually comes back. You never ask him where he was in the morning—knowing that Shane would brush you off by saying he was on watch as if you don’t understand that the shifts rotate every night. Another sigh escapes your lips as you defeatedly throw the pants onto the table before you and turn your attention to your finger, which you had clumsily stabbed with a needle while attempting to fix the garment.

“You ‘lright?”

The sound of Daryl’s rough southern drawl makes you jump. You look up and see Daryl standing a few feet away with his raised hands. He takes a few careful steps toward you—his movements are slow and calculated. Your brow furrows at the sight—did he think you’re afraid of him?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle ya.”

“It’s okay, Daryl. I was just a little distracted.”

Daryl nods at your words before taking a seat beside you at the table.

“What’d ya do to your hand?”

He leans toward you slightly to get a better look, his concerned eyes raking over your hands, looking for any sign of injury. A small smile spreads across your face as Daryl continues to worry about your well-being. You raise your hands to show him that you’re perfectly okay.

“It’s nothing. Just pricked my finger—Shane has a hole in his pocket, and I was never good with a needle and thread.”

You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly as you speak. Daryl chews on his bottom lip as he looks at the cargo pants on the table. It’s ripped along the seam, an easy fix—he’s done it numerous times for his own tattered jeans.

“Give it ‘er.”

You look at Daryl’s outstretched hand in disbelief for several seconds before handing him the needle and thread. Daryl snatches the pants off the table and gets to work. You watch him curiously—his brow furrows as he focuses on the task at hand. Daryl momentarily lets his attention drift to you; he awkwardly shifts in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable with how intently you’re watching him.

“Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”

His tone is defensive, but it doesn’t make you back down like everyone else.

“Just surprised, is all.”

“What, Shane doesn’t know how to sew?”

He meets your incredulous gaze and can’t help but laugh. The sound is still foreign to his ears, even though it’s becoming somewhat of an ordinary occurrence when he’s with you. He’s much more used to the sound of Merle yelling, music blaring, old motorcycles' roar, and the forest's peaceful ambiance.

“Well, you shouldn’t have to do everything for him.”

His genuine words should comfort you, but instead, they nag at you. You shouldn’t have to do everything for him. You shouldn’t have to turn a blind eye to your boyfriend’s nightly habit. You shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around him. You shouldn’t have to make yourself smaller for his convenience. And yet, here you are.

“You have a cigarette?”

The question catches Daryl off guard. He’s only seen you smoke once—that night at the campfire, and he swore it was his fault. Your words from that night still rattle around in his head. You’re a bad influence, Dixon. He completes his final stitch, bringing the thread to his mouth so he can rip it off with his teeth. He places everything back on the table before pulling out his pack of Marlboro Reds from his pocket and offering it to you. You take one from the pack, twisting it in your fingers before placing the cigarette between your lips. Daryl notices your hesitation as he hands you his old lighter, so he waits until you’ve lit your cigarette before pulling out one of his own. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, but something about this doesn’t sit right with Daryl.

“What’s goin’ on?”

You furrow your brow at his question, feigning confusion, but Daryl doesn’t relent. He simply raises a brow at you as he takes another long drag of his cigarette. You let out a defeated sigh before answering his question.

“It’s just Shane…”

You trail off thinking that since it’s relationship drama, maybe Daryl wouldn’t be interested. But he doesn’t try to change the subject or brush you off, instead, he gives you his undivided attention. He watches you quickly look around camp, scooping the area and taking account of who is around. A frown pulls at the corners of Daryl’s lips as he realizes that you’re once again looking over your shoulder for Shane.

“He wasn’t always like this. I mean, he was always a hothead, but he wasn’t always so cruel.”

“Hey…”

The softness in his tone catches you off guard, and you look up at him. A part of you wants to cry at how attentive Daryl is at this moment. It’s been so long since someone has shown you this kind of care.

“You ain’t gotta defend him to me.”

Daryl watches as a single tear falls down your cheek at his words, and he begins to panic. Did he upset you? Was he out of line? Had he gotten the situation between you and Shane wrong? This isn’t his forte. He wishes he was a different man—a better man, a softer man. He wishes he was more like his mother and less like his father. That she could have lived long enough to teach him a few more life lessons—like how to comfort someone you care for.

Before he has the chance to spiral completely out of control, he feels your fingertips find his, and his heart damn near stops. He involuntarily pulls away from your touch, and it makes him wince. He sits in the shame of his response to your touch. A better man would have been able to return your affection. Finally, he meets your gaze, expecting to see the hurt he caused by his reaction. Instead, he’s met with a smile so warm and tender that he can practically feel the shame in his body melt away.

“Thank you, Daryl.”

A small, affectionate smile pulls at the corners of Daryl’s lips.

“It was nothin’.”

You shake your head at his words. What he did for you today was far from nothing, but you let it go, opting to turn your attention back to the cargo pants on the table before you. As you admire Daryl’s handiwork, you can’t help but hope that Daryl knows that Shane’s pocket isn’t the only thing he stitched back together today.

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#twd #The Walking Dead #walking dead #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #Rick Grimes #shane walsh #merle dixon #glenn rhee #lori grimes #the walking dead imagine #walking dead imagine #Norman Reedus #norman reedus imagine #norman reedus x reader

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urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites · 1 day

Note

Please do the gang+Tim and curly with like a waitress (p.s I love your writing)

Omllll thank you so much! 😭🫶And yessssssssssssss I’d love to do that for you pookie!

The Gang + Shepard boys x F!Waitress reader (you can insert waiter/they to make it gn!)

Ponyboy Curtis

-hot damn

-you’re a fine waitress if he ever saw one

-he’s kinda shy tbh

-over time will get more comfortable flirting with you

-he overtips you with what little money he has

-he finds out when all your shifts are and when they end

-and always seems to come “by coincidence” whenever your shifts are

-he starts learning small things about you, asking about you to your co workers so much that literally everyone knows he likes you

-except for you, apparently

-“Well if it isn’t my favorite waitress, y/n.” Is what he always greets you with

-one day he finally asks you out

-you guys are so cute together

Johnny Cade

-he’s even more shy than pony

-he looks at you and is like internally going crazy

-when you ask him for his order he says it so quietly you need to ask him to repeat several times

-and he gets red in the face, and you patiently wait with your notepad and a smile

-“It’s ok sir, please, take your time.”

-he finally says his order loud enough for you to hear and you smile, writing on your sketchpad

-over a few weeks, he comes to the restaurant more

-and you eventually ask him out, writing down the question on your notepad, ripping it out and giving it to him

-Reading: Johnny, would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?

-whenever you get back he has the biggest grin on his face, and is nodding yes eagerly

-what takes you by surprise is when he stands up, grabs your waist, and kisses you in front of everyone in the restaurant

-earning a few cheers and whoops

Sodapop Curtis

-he gets being in the service industry

-and he especially gets being attractive in the service industry

-which is why he tries not to immediately hit on you

-tries

-he’s definitely the type to call you “sweetheart”

-does subtle things like winking at you whenever you take his order

-he starts coming to that restaurant far more often and notices when you start coming to his gas station more often

-doing the same things to him, calling him sweetheart and winking whenever you check out

-it’s a mutual thing, a flirty joke between the two of you

-but one day, he decides to ask you out, and it becomes less than a joke

-you two start dating and are very cute together

-you both rant about customers being rude and kind of mutually understand the power dynamic in a way not many people do

Darry Curtis

-he’s out in the resturant with Sodapop and Ponyboy

-when he sees youre the waiter he instantly feels embarrassed of ponyboy and soda

-“You guys… stop actin’ like damn fools!”

-“Darry, why? You never act like this at restaurants.” Pony would ask

-“Just…. Stop. There’s someone I want to look good in front of.”

-“OoOoOOh someone has a crushhhhhhh.” Sodapop would tease

-as you walked over to the table, Darry was arguing with them

-“Can I help you?” You spoke up with a giggle

-Darry is red in the face as he orders for everyone

Dallas Winston

-bro

-you saw how this man treats waitresses

-he would give you no respect lol

-absolutely takes advantage of the power dynamic because he would be one of those assholes

-he calls you “sweetheart” “sweetie” “princess” and other more vulgar names

-he very obviously checks you out to even the point where your oblivious ass notices

-he probably shoots straws at you (like that one deleted scene)

-to tease flirt

-he always comes to the restaurant and it’s like ooop Dallas Winston’s coming I need coffeee this morning

-he comes to you outside of the restaurant one day

-the usual harassment

-and you turn to him and give him a nice hard slap

-and then lean up and give give a nice hard kiss

-he’s shocked, but before long blinks twice and then smirks, kissing you back

-he’s protective over you and any other guy who even winks at you at the restaurant will have Dally on their doorstep the next day

Two Bit Mathews

-he definitely tease flirts with you

-also calls you his favorite waitress like pony

-orders the most childish shit 💀

-like chocolate cake with chicken nuggies or something like that

-and he probably asks you out the soonest

-flirts with you, not as aggressive or vulgar as dally but still quite obvious

-“That’s the pretty lady who gives me discounts on Dino nuggets!” When talking about you to the gang

-you guys are cute and have inside jokes about Dino nuggies

Steve Randle

-he knows you from whenever you’ve come to get your car fixed before

-he’s always believed that you were pretty and given you discounts

-and you do the same thing for him at your restaurant

-it’s a mutual kind of cute thing that you guys both do to each other

-even if he hadn’t already been giving you discounts for cars, you would’ve probably given him a restaurant discount too

-You are probably friends for the longest out of the gang

-one day he’s talking to soda pop about you, which is when soda pop realizes how down bad he is for you

-Sodapop makes him ask you out

-you guys are really cute together and always do favors for each other

Tim Shepard

-he got a booth at your restaurant

-he saw you and immediately thought you were cute

- he acts kind of neutral around you, I mean, he still obviously flirts a bit and checks you out

- but not enough that you think you’re he’s going to do what he does

-what he does is wait until your shift is done and meet you outside the restaurant

-and starts heavily, flirting, offering you a cigarette

-when you explain that you don’t smoke and start walking home, he follows you

-you turned to him in anger because you don’t like that he’s following you home and he surprisingly listens to you

-but he does show up the next day at your restaurant

-Eventually, he ask you out

-you say yes and every night after your shift, he walks home with you to make sure you get there safely

-and even comes back to your apartment with you sometimes 😏😏😏

Curly Shapard

-this little shit is just as obnoxious as Dally

-he checks you out very obviously

-also absolutely takes advantage of the power dynamic

-he annoys you put you put up with him because well

-he tips you pretty well

-he keeps coming at the same time and day and eventually he gets onto the usual customer chart

-where you can say “The regular?”

-and one day there’s a male costumer being particularly sleazy

-trying to grab you

-and Curly punches him hard “You don’t touch her again, asswipe.” And spits on him

-you chuckle and grin at him “Take it outside, Curly.”

-and he comes back in and this time, you ask him out

-he’s pretty protective once you two are dating and everyone’s astonished to how he pulled you

#the outsiders hcs #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #johnny cade #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #steve randle #dallas winston #two bit mathews #curly shepard #Tim Shepard

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thevillainswhore · 5 months

Text

New Tricks

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead

What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular.

Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin.

Warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky

Author’s Note: beta’d by my baby @rookthorne

Okay, so where to start with this… the idea for this fic sprung from a certain someone 👀 and I just had to write it. Thank you to my girl for being a huge support through this, I love you 💗

These two have my whole heart and who knows? Maybe more will come of them 😌 for all my playlist lovers, you’re welcome - new tricks playlist ❤️

New Tricks Masterlist

I hope you enjoy this as much as I’ve loved creating it 🥹

Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, your impatience starts to wane thin. For ten whole minutes, you have been waiting for Steve to open up. And knocking like a crazed woman is beginning to get old; so is waiting on the doorstep to his front door.

“Oh, for–” You grumble, and you lift your arm up to bang against the door for the umpteenth time, when your hand misses it entirely, owing to the fact it swings open to admit you with such enthusiasm, it creaks and threatens to bounce back off of the wall.

Bucky — your brother’s roommate, best friend, and your crush — sheepishly smiles and scratches the back of his neck.

The line of his shoulders slump when he lowers his arm, and you notice (and appreciate) just how broad and muscled he is. He must have just been working out, or you interrupted him — nonetheless, you’re thankful for the sight before you, and how it makes the crush you harboured for the brunette for years roar to life all over again.

Excellent, you inwardly sigh.

“Buttercup,” Bucky says — the affectionate nickname born from his sappy personality always makes you swoon, and his hesitant smile morphs into a wide one. You’re left fighting internally to keep your giddiness at the sight of him to a respectable level. “Hey, you. Sorry I didn’t hear you; I was listening to music.”

Your gaze continues up to his hair, finding it tied back with an elastic at the nape of his neck. Oh, how you wished you could run your hands through–

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, furrowing his brows.

Embarrassment floods you and you realise far too late that he probably has asked you a question, or several, while you were daydreaming. “Sorry, Buck,” you squeak, praying that the heat crawling up your neck was not as obvious as it felt. “What was that?”

His soft, puppy-eyed expression brightens when you meet his gaze. “It’s fine, doll. Everything okay?”

No matter how badly you want to stand and unashamedly stare at your brother’s best friend and roommate, your true intention behind your visit comes to mind.

“Can I come in?” you ask, lifting the bag of snacks you brought up higher. Bucky’s eyes glance down at the bag, and then back up to your face. “Stevie planned our movie night and he isn’t answering his phone — I told him I was on my way and I asked him if he wanted anything else.”

The confusion that creases Bucky's brows and downturns his lips in a small frown makes you narrow your eyes.

“Surely he didn’t forget,” you accuse, still staring into Bucky’s face. “I make the trip down from campus every two weeks. It’s been two weeks.” A sudden, encompassing guilt fills Bucky’s eyes, and he starts to worry his bottom lip with his teeth — a sight far too hard to ignore. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Um– I just–” Bucky stutters, and you watch as his fingers twitch and fidget — a nervous tic. If he didn’t look cute while stumbling over his words, you would feel sorry for being so blunt. “I just thought that– Uh, I thought it was cancelled. The movie night, I mean.”

You step forward slightly, and Bucky opens the door wider. A wordless invitation.

Bucky rushes to clear a space on the entryway coat rack for you, when he suddenly says, “You know, because of his date, an’ all.” His words falter at the look you shoot him. You stop taking off your coat, and you drop the bag of snacks to the floor, ignoring the crinkle and rustle of plastic.

“What do you mean date, Barnes?” The use of his last name causes a flush of deep red to pattern his cheeks, but you don’t let up. There’s music playing from down the hall of the apartment – right where Steve’s bedroom is. “What’s going on?”

Bucky skittishly fidgets and glances around the apartment, before meeting your heated gaze. “I– Look, I didn’t know–”

You silently mouth a curse, beyond frustrated with your older brother, and with yourself for taking just a second to indulge and admire just how sweet Bucky is when he is unsure. “Fine,” you huff, and you turn to walk straight towards the source and to investigate it yourself.

Bucky’s frantic footsteps behind you don’t deter your haste. “Wait, stop — Buttercup, wait!”

Forgoing a courtesy knock — having had enough of banging on his front door — you barge straight into the room with as little as a greeting call or warning.

“What the shit–“

The door to Steve’s bedroom slams against the wall, and you come face to face with the blond in the middle of a dance off with himself in the mirror. “Sis! Hey,” he gasps, holding his hand over his heart in fright. “What’re you doing–?”

In lieu of an answer, you cross your arms and stare at him, unimpressed and exasperated with his antics. “Don’t you hey sis me.” The fear in Steve’s eyes as you stomp towards him almost vindicates your indignation of being uninformed. “What do you mean you’re going on a date? It’s movie night!”

Steve has the decency to look ashamed. “Flower, I swear, I’m sorry,” he rambles, and he takes your hand, directing you to sit down on his bed. “I would’ve called to let you know but everything was so last minute.”

The grip he has on your hand is firm, assuring you of his true intentions, even when he turns the Roger’s charm up to an eleven to worm his way back onto your good side. “I swear sis, I wouldn’t bail on you without a good reason.”

“Okay,” you say, staring into his face — still not wholeheartedly convinced of his graces. A line of questioning is in order, you decide. “So, who is this good enough reason?”

“Natasha Romanoff.” The dreamy, love-struck sigh that leaves Steve’s lips after her name is uttered has you reluctantly trying to hide your giggle; the righteous anger and frustration slowly leaves your body in his admittance.

The fact that he has been obsessed with the college’s most popular redhead since forever, was a balm to the annoyance. You truly did feel happy for him underneath it all.

And, in the end, it’s how you decide to let him off the hook — though not without teasing him, first. “No way, the Natasha Romanoff? How the hell have you managed that one?”

Steve pushes your shoulder, and the force of his shove knocks you sideways onto the covers of his bed. “Fine,” you grouse, sighing heavily and resigning yourself to a night on your own. “I’ll let you off this time.”

“I’ll make it up to you, Flower,” Steve promises. And you believe him. He has always kept his word; ever since the two of you were kids.

“Good,” you say, smiling softly. “I expect an apology at my door in the next few days, though.”

Laughing, Steve nods, and then he stands from his bed.

“I’ll leave you to it then, I hope you have fun, bro.”

It is an impossible task for you to hide your dejected hurt from Steve, though. Clever and perceptive as he is, he detects the subtle sombre undertones underlying your reassurances, narrowing in on them like a dog to a bone.

You get to your feet with a quiet sigh, and as you move, you miss the thoughtful expression on his face; the perk of his ears at the almost indistinguishable shuffling of feet just outside of his bedroom. “How about you have a movie night with Bucky, instead?”

You stop in your tracks, frozen in shock at the sudden and downright surprising suggestion. “Stevie,” you admonish, “Bucky does not want to waste a Friday night with me–“

“I don’t mind!” Bucky shouts eagerly from the doorway, and you spin around to face him. The nervous fidget of his curls his fingers and hands around one another, over and over.

Had he been listening that whole time?

Guilt begins to flood you. Imposing on any plans Bucky may have made was a burden you did not want to bear, and you couldn’t fathom who would want to spend the night with their best friend’s little sister. “Thank you, Bucky, that’s really sweet of you,” you placate, smiling at him. “But I know you’ve probably got better things to do on a Friday night than be with me.”

Bucky seems to swell in the doorway, his chest puffing up and he sets his jaw, a determined glint in his eyes. “Actually, Buttercup,” he retorts, crossing his arms in a decisive move. “A movie night with you sounds perfect.”

The confidence in his tone takes you by surprise, and you flounder for a second while you stare into his steel blue eyes. “Really?”

“‘Course,” he replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. “It’ll be fun.”

His words, and charming smile, ultimately win you over.

With your attention wholly focused on Bucky as he begins to talk about what movies to watch, you miss the knowing, victorious smirk that curls Steve’s lips.

“Okay,” Steve calls from the doorway, looking back at the two of you, and you can’t help but be frustrated by his stalling. “Be good and behave while I’m gone. Oh, and, no staying up past your bedtimes — Bucky, her bedtime is ten o’clock sharp.”

The scowl on your face only serves to make him laugh, and you huff your exasperation before your hands grip his biceps; the only way to get him out the door is brute force. “Get out, Stevie,” you grunt, pushing with all your might, but it is to no avail. Steve is as immovable as a statue made of marble. “Don’t you have to go see Natasha?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, and you hear the rustling sound of fabric. “Don’t you?”

Instinct tells you to duck, and you do so, just in the nick of time to avoid the pillow Bucky launches across the room from his place next to the couch. The pillow hits Steve square in the face with a comical thump.

You burst into laughter at the stunned look of disbelief on Steve’s face, and you look over at Bucky, who is leaning against the sofa; a smug grin pulls his lips up and scrunches his nose. “Get the hell outta here already, punk.”

With Steve distracted by Bucky’s betrayal, you take the chance to shove him out of the front door and watch delightedly as he stumbles in the hallway. “Hey–!” The door slams shut behind him, cutting him off.

Giggles shake your shoulders as you put your back to the door, leaning against it with all of your strength as Steve turns the handle — evidently not finished in the war of quips.

Bucky’s laughter from his place by the sofa makes your stomach flutter, and he walks closer, just as Steve stops attempting to break down the door.

With the end of Steve’s attempts to forcefully open the door, you turn and face the wood and peer out of the peephole. A blond mop of hair is just within view. “Bye Stevie!” you call through the door, “Have fun, wear protection!”

Steve’s reply is muffled by the wood, and he flips you off before walking away.

Shaking your head, you turn back to face the living room, and you see Bucky fussing around the sofa and coffee table. The strong aroma of a sweet, spicy scent fills your senses and you inhale deeply, letting the tantalising smell fill your lungs, before you ask, “Bucky, what are you doing?”

He sends you a furtive glance before looking back down at the snacks laid out on the coffee table, neatly placed next to two already filled glasses of drink. A bag of popcorn threatens to spill from his arms. “I’m, uh– I’m setting up? For the movie–?”

You could not help but notice how fast the bravado and confidence he displayed in the presence of Steve vanishes when he was with you, and you alone.

“Oh, sweetie,” you coo, walking closer. “I thought we could watch the movie in your room, instead of out here. It’ll be more comfortable, at least, and we can spread out. Is that okay?”

The popcorn bag that threatened to spill from his arms bursts instead, scattering the popped kernels all over the floor, making him yelp. “Ah! Uh– Okay, we… We can if you want?”

You nod once. “Absolutely. I’d rather be in your bed any day, then out here,” you tease, amused by the way Bucky’s eyes bulge and his cheeks flush. Then you look down at the popcorn all over the floor, and add, “But first, let’s clean this up.”

Bucky starts to clean up the mess, and he tells you to grab the movies you agreed upon from the collection in the bookshelf.

The selection to choose from is packed, as it always is. “Why don’t I grab a couple?”

“Sure,” Bucky answers, sweeping the popcorn into a dustpan. “I mean, why not? May as well go all out.”

You grin and grab a couple of cases. “Do you need some help–”

“No, I’ve got it, Bubs,” Bucky interrupts. You look over your shoulder at him to see the blankets bundled high in his arms, and before you could protest and insist you help carry them, he shuffles off in the direction of his bedroom.

Then, you glance down at the coffee table to see that the snacks and drinks are missing. “Did you grab the snacks?”

“Yeah!” Bucky calls back, muffled by the walls between the two of you.

A fond sigh falls from your lips and you follow after him, DVD cases in hand.

The tension in the air of his bedroom is charged with something you could not quite describe, and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life for it. You square your shoulders, and smile through it. “It’s no different, it’s no different,” you mutter under your breath; a mantra for confidence.

Though, it is short lived.

Bucky throws the blankets onto his bed with a grunt, and both the TV and DVD player switch on, ready to accept one of the disks you held in your hand.

A shuddery breath falls from your lips, and you make your way to the player to place the first disc in. It whirrs to life as you turn to look at Bucky, who is placing the snacks on a tray table, his tongue between his teeth as he works.

“Okay,” he hums, turning to face you, a shy smile on his face. “You ready, Bubs?” Without waiting for an answer, he walks past you to the light switch, his index finger poised to flip it off.

You look down at your body, the warm outerwear you had thrown on to get to Steve’s apartment suddenly becomes scorching hot against your skin, and an idea comes to mind — flustering him has given you a rush of confidence before…

“Almost,” you say, a hidden smirk on your lips. The layers of warmth are soft in your hands while you take them off, and you’re left in a thin tank top and soft, cotton shorts. “Now I am.”

A faint choking noise comes from the doorway behind you when you place the warmer clothes on Bucky’s desk chair. Inwardly, a coy smirk lifts the corner of your lips; outwardly, you look over to him, concerned and ever curious.

His face, normally soft and kind whenever he looked at you, is taut with embarrassment; blotchy and red. His eyes are frantically looking anywhere, and everywhere around the room but at you.

“Buck?” you say, getting his attention. His eyes meet yours. “You okay?”

The fidgeting is your first clue that he is struggling with something, and it is a battle to keep the teasing smile off your lips when his hands run constantly through his long hair and or come to a stop in the pockets of his grey sweats.

Patiently, you watch while he repeats the same actions several times, each pass of his hands only serving to make him even more flushed. “Yeah. Yep,” Bucky coughs. “Mhm. Just great, thanks.” He looks up to the ceiling and gulps loudly. “You’re really wearing those? Uh– Just those, I mean?”

You thin your lips to try and hurriedly fight off a smile as you grab your warm, fluffy socks from your bag. “Of course, silly,” you tease, shaking your head once. “I always wear my comfy clothes on movie night.”

The room turns deathly silent when you bend at the hip to pull the socks up your feet.

Peering up from your task, you see Bucky staring at your legs, evidently thinking he hadn’t been caught and his eyes begin to trail upwards, towards your chest. The slackjawed expression amuses you, though you feel the beginning sparks of your own shyness come to life.

“Buck?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest, and you play with the hem of your tank top at the heat in his gaze. “Bucky?” you try again, “Are you ready?”

“Uh– Yeah, yes,” he rushes, quickly flicking the light off so his face is cast into shadow. You could have sworn he looked like a kid getting caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar — wide eyes and a deepening blush that spread down his neck.

Bucky had always been a little shy in your presence, this you knew. Whenever you come over to visit Steve, or you bump into Bucky on campus, you always notice a remarkable difference in his normal, unwavering charm that he had in familiar company.

This lack of swagger gives you the impression that you unfasten the young, boyish version of him; the one ruled by nerves, and hindered by a severe lack of confidence.

Sure, you enjoy spending time with him here and there when you hang out at your brother’s apartment, but never before have you been this close to him, and alone.

“Why don’t we–?” You gesture towards Bucky’s bed, and before he could either protest or agree, you jog to the edge and jump onto the plush mattress with a squeal of laughter. The blankets cover you easily as you roll yourself in them. “This is perfect,” you sigh, happy and content.

“And where am I meant to sit?” Bucky laughs, appearing in your eye line with a bright, amused expression. “You blanket hog.”

“Fine,” you drawl, and you disentangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets.

“Why, thank you, madame,” Bucky says, extending his hand in a mock salute, and he sits down in the now available spot, before sidling up the mattress, to rest his back on the headboard.

The broadness of his shoulders don’t leave much room between the two of you, and you decide to snuggle up to his side in a bid to get comfortable. You feel him tense with the proximity, but he doesn’t push you away or say anything.

“Are you ready now?” you ask, reaching for the remote. “For the movie?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” he rasps, nodding quickly.

Despite his initial nerves, Bucky settles comfortably in your presence — half of the movie goes by undisturbed with only the occasional shuffling to get comfortable after getting a snack, or a drink.

That all changes the moment Bucky becomes restless,his leg twitching against yours constantly, and he repositions himself every couple of minutes. From the corner of your eye, you see his mouth opening and closing; the courage building within him to speak up. You bite your tongue against the urge — let him speak first, you chided yourself.

“So,” Bucky eventually says, his voice quiet. “How are your classes going, Buttercup?”

You take your eyes off the screen and face Bucky, but he’s already looking at you, his eyes bright from the glow of the TV.

“They’re going good,” you reply, just as quietly. “Yeah, they’re busy — hectic, even, but good.”

The fabric of the comforter ruffles as you turn your body towards him — your shorts ride up with the movement, and your bare thighs brush against his sweats. Bucky tenses while you settle in and only relaxes when you stop shifting in place. “This time of year is always busy, the coursework and exams,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “But I’m managing okay, thanks.”

Bucky nods his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, all those art projects you’ve gotta finish, it must be tiring.”

Shock slackens your features and you reel back — you could not recall telling him what you studied. “How do you know what major I’m taking?”

“I– um,” Bucky stutters, suddenly overwhelmingly shy. “I hear you talking to Steve about it. Y’know, when– When you come over, on movie nights, and other nights.”

You can sense Bucky is not done explaining; he licks his lips and stares at his lap, where he fidgets, again. Quietly, as if embarrassed, he continues, “I see you lugging your big canvases across campus sometimes, too. From class, and– And from the window, when I’m actually studying.”

Warmth creeps up your neck again and you blink rapidly. You hadn’t noticed that he took so much notice of you before now, and you couldn’t help but feel endeared over it.

Desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, you blurt, “How’s, uh– How’s training going for football season this year?”

Bucky freezes for a second, then trips over his words, “Oh, it’s good– Yeah, it’s great. Coach says I’m progressing well, so I’m doing alright, I guess.”

“So modest, Buck,” you tease. It was common knowledge on campus that Bucky is the star player of the college football team, while also being scouted to join the professional leagues. You place your hand on his arm and squeeze his bicep reassuringly, lending him a bit of your confidence. “Don’t you sell yourself short, I’ve seen you play — you’re amazing!”

He inhales sharply and grimaces, an expression that contorts his handsome face. “You really think so?”

“Bucky,” you say slowly. The tense line of his body is obvious as you shuffle closer, but you are determined to prove your point; assure him of his talent and abilities, for all of a shy puppy that he is.

“Listen to me, honey,” you continue, and Bucky refuses to meet your gaze, instead focusing on his hands. “Everyone can see it, all of us — all of the women in the crowds, all of the kids that watch you from the sidelines. We’re all screaming for you.”

His skin is warm under your palm, but you don’t remove your hand. Instead, you grip his arm and shake it a little. “You’re amazing.”

Bucky stays silent — contemplative of your words, and you take the opportunity to think over the reason why Bucky chooses to stay in on a Friday night.

There is no questioning the fact that Bucky Barnes could pull anyone he wanted, whether it was to party, or to fuck, but to your recollection — and from what Steve had slipped in the past — no one has ever witnessed Bucky bringing anyone home, drunk or otherwise. No partner he could call his own, either, and he didn’t brag about the obvious charm he held over the many women on or off campus.

Cautiously, you venture towards the subject of your curiosity. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be going out on dates on a Friday night, like Stevie? Surely you’ve got tons of girls lined up for you.”

Bucky’s silence turns deafening, unnatural. His body becomes stiff and he looks to be barely breathing.

“Buck?” You sit up and look into his face. It’s pulled taut with what you could only guess as shame, but that made no sense, and with a mounting, swelling horror, you realise you may have pushed him too far; teased beyond the point of what is acceptable between friends. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry–”

“No! No– I… fuck.” Bucky throws his head back against the headboard and covers his face. “Oh, God,” he groans, muffled by his hands. “Shit.”

“Bucky–” You hesitate, unsure of what to do or what to say. You’ve never seen Bucky behave like this, so anxious and uneasy. “I– I’ll go, it’s alright, I’m sorry,” you say quickly, and you start to shuffle off of the bed when you hear his muffled voice say something behind his hands. “What was that, I didn’t–?”

A heavy sigh lifts his shoulders, and they slump back down as he exhales. “Ihaventevenhadmyfirstkissyet.”

“Sweetheart,” you say quietly, and you shift back towards him. The curtain of hair he’s so fond of covers and conceals his eyes from view, but you refrain from tucking it behind his ear. “I did not understand a word of what you just said.”

Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, looking up at you with a great effort. “I– uh.” His hands land on his thighs with a finality not unlike the final siren at his football games, and he utters a reluctant, “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.”

His bedroom is quiet enough you would hear a pin drop. The TV had long powered off, since the movie finished while you talked, and the tension was palpable; a living, breathing encumberment that could not be cut with a knife. The flickering light from the still burning candle on his bedside drawers makes shadows dance across Bucky’s face.

Okay, you think privately, so what?

Bucky hasn’t kissed anyone before. It was justifiable — too busy with life, training and keeping up his GPA. You didn’t have to make a big deal out of this. “That’s okay–” Then the reality of the situation hits you, and your mind screeches to a halt.

If Bucky hasn’t had his first kiss… “Does– Wait, does that mean–?”

“Yes.” Bucky squeezes his eyes tight and refuses to look at you — it is obviously a painful confession, yet he still forces himself to spit it out, putting voice to the doubt in your mind. “I’m a virgin.”

Now that catches you off guard.

Bucky… is a virgin?

Bucky, the star football player; built like a Greek god with the charisma to match.

Sweat beads on his forehead and he looks like he is about to bolt from the room in his fear, and you realise all of your thoughts had shown in your expression.

“Oh,” you manage, blinking slowly. The hand that was gripping his arm had moved without you realising, and you hastily place it back on his bicep. “Oh, Bucky.”

No other words come to mind.

When you came to visit Steve for movie night, a calm, easy tradition in your routine, you never expected to end up in this kind of situation; on the other side of a confession that has left you speechless with shock, all while a strange confliction brews deep within your guts.

You had been there once, and what you wouldn’t have given to have the opportunity to experience it with someone you trusted wholeheartedly — like you did Bucky, your mind supplies not-so-helpfully.

The realisation hits you harder than you expect, and you gasp quietly, still gripping his arm to reassure him.

Bucky moves his hands to cover his face again, and his chest rises and falls with a sharp hitch. The nervous pants for air that part his lips bring you back down to earth and away from that revelation. You know he’s embarrassed; ducking his head to his chest and glancing up as though you had scolded him. The entirety of his toned body is rigid with fear, each muscle clenching and poised to run, to save what dignity he feels he has left after such a confession.

It’s difficult not to stare at the veins that line and bulge from his forearms down to his deft hands, and you almost feel guilty for it; he’s in distress, fretting over the reveal of his lack of sexual prowess, but you cannot help the lingering gaze over his body. He just looks so pretty.

From the get go, ever since you had met the star football player, you have always fantasised about him. The silent crush on Bucky had developed into such a deep attraction you almost couldn’t bear it any longer.

Having convinced yourself of the non-existent reciprocation kept your tongue at bay, in the past. And while Bucky’s virginity is a surprise, it did not hinder or lessen your feelings for him, quite the opposite; the heady weight of it settling over your mind like a blanket.

What was stopping you now? What would be the harm in testing the waters?

To hell with it, you decide. The springs of the mattress creak as you move to shuck the blanket off of your body, then your legs.

Bucky audibly gulps behind his hands when you move closer, and he positively freezes, like a deer in headlights, as you lift your leg up and over his thighs to straddle him. The soft brush of his sweatpants over your legs sends a shiver up your spine, and you sit down, settling your body comfortably on his thighs, just above his knees.

“What– What are you doing–?” Bucky whispers, and his words are muffled behind his palms. You grin, unseen by your quarry, and you shuffle up his thighs to his hips, your clothed cunt just below the seam at his crotch.

The sound of Bucky choking on his own spit is comical.

You pull his hands away from his face, the urge to kiss each palm overwhelming; feather-soft brushes of your lips against the soft skin sends the pulse in his throat racing. “Buttercup, please– This is embarrassing enough–”

“Bucky,” you whisper, cutting him off. “Look at me.”

Blue eyes meet yours, and you pour all of the unspoken words between you both in your soft gaze, willing him to feel the yearning. “Kiss me.”

“But–” He hesitates, a fish out of water again. His mouth hangs slack from the shock of such a bold request, and you place your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him before he can carry on protesting.

You pout, placing a hint of pleading in your tone, “Please?”

He looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads. “I– What, I mean,” he flounders, arms hovering at his sides, hesitant to touch you — terrified of taking it a step too far. “I don’t know–“

“Aw, Buck,” you coo, smiling softly. Carefully, you shuffle further up his lap until your knees brush against the headboard of his bed. Gently, you place your palms on Bucky’s toned chest, just above his beating heart hammering away — not wanting to frighten him. “I’ll show you, okay?”

“Yeah.” The tremble in his voice makes your heart ache, but you smile encouragingly.

“Here we go,” you soothe. He smiles weakly back, eyes still wide with shock. “I’ve got you.”

You slowly and steadily move closer to Bucky’s face. A shudder racks through his whole body when he feels your breath against his neck, and you peck his stubbled cheek before sitting back upright to face him.

“Okay,” Bucky shakily says, fisting the blankets in his hands. “Okay. That was okay.”

“See? It’s not so bad,” you tease, and you tilt your head to the side, sticking out your cheek. “Your turn.” From the corner of your eyes, you watch his eyes sweep across your face, still hesitant and nervous, but a slither of curiosity now shining through.

Broad, strong shoulders lift in tandem with his deep, grounding breath, and he steadily leans in before he second guesses himself. He resolutely does not touch your body, but he manages to find the confidence to gently press his lips against your skin, kissing your cheek.

This time, he sits back and looks up at you for direction and reassurance.

You consider it, ignoring the fluttering of your heart. His touch was sweet, but polite; a kiss on the cheek that you would give a friend after such a long time apart. And, in the end, you want Bucky to gain more confidence and actually enjoy kissing — he shouldn’t have to be ashamed to want it. “Good, that was good,” you say, keeping your tone mellow so as to not spook him.

He is making good progress, and gentle encouragement is the way to ensure it continues, you reason with yourself. “Now, I want you to do the exact same thing, but start gradually moving towards my lips.”

“Oh– Okay, okay,” he breathes, and his eyes widen slightly before they dart down towards his lap.

That needs to be rectified immediately, before he shuts down, you hastily think, and you react swifty, your hands roaming from his chest and up to the sides of his neck, adding a little pressure to bring him back down to earth.

There was an innate need for him to know that he could trust you; that you would treat him with the respect he deserves.

Gently, you lift his head up, forcing him to look at you, and the downturn of his lips makes your heart ache. All you want to do is soothe the fear and rid the worry from his pretty eyes that pierce you, even through the strands of hair that have fallen in his face.

“You’re okay, Buck,” you soothe, rubbing your thumbs over his warm, rosy cheeks. The movement and assurance seem to do the trick. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

A minute passes, and you watch as the confliction flitters across his face; an inward battle to assemble his courage to bridge the gap between you both.

There is another minute of silence, when he slowly advances, leaving his palms flat on the covers of his bed as he kisses you on the cheek.

“That’s it,” you praise, sitting still in his lap, but smiling softly in encouragement.

Bucky hesitantly returns the smile, and he doesn’t move away, rather, he decides to stay close. “You did good,” you say, still smiling, and he takes you by surprise when he moves forwards again to place another tiny kiss even closer to your lips. “Oh–”

The soft brush of his lips makes you freeze, and he takes his time, building his confidence with each peck he makes.

Finally, he reaches the corner of your lips, and he stalls; confidence wavering and faltering with the daunting task. You go to part your lips to speak on instinct, to encourage him, when he suddenly moves even closer to your face, making you hastily shut your mouth and brace for what was to come; willing for your heart to slow down the tattoo it beats against your throat.

“Okay,” Bucky whispers more to himself, and he clears his throat before licking his lips. “Okay, okay. Just–” His lips connect with the curve of you own, the brief and fleeting connection enough to tell you that his lips are plump; ripe to swell and redden with a passionate make out session.

Hastily, Bucky withdraws, but not all the way back — he lingers and only allows the tiniest space between your faces.

“You did it, sweetheart,” you coo, keeping your voice low. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Th– Thanks,” he stutters, and the rosy blush he sported turns a splotchy crimson. Interesting, you think.

You turn your head to look at him, and the proximity of his face makes both of your lips brush against each other. The intoxicating softness consumes you, and you cannot deny the reality that Bucky is there, he is right there. A torture that intensifies in the billowing silence, while a burning, reckless spike of adrenaline rushes through your veins.

“Do you want more?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence and shattering the tension.

A harsh breath falls from Bucky’s lips, and he presses forward to kiss you properly for the first time.

Whatever you had been expecting for a first kiss from the inexperienced, sweet, charming man beneath you, flew out the window. Your lips slot perfectly over his, a chaste kiss that held enough need and want to be something far more; it could not hold a candle to the sex you had with past flings.

The kiss, unexpected as it was, lasts only for a couple seconds longer before Bucky pulls back from it, panting lightly — puffs of air fanning over your slightly parted lips. He lingers, bumping his nose into yours to keep close.

But eventually, Bucky pulls all the way back to rest against the headboard.

The silence is not deafening — not like it was before, and you open your eyes, blinking slowly.

Bucky is already staring at you. His eyes are glazed over with hunger, and he's out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest faster than before.

You fare no better. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, but it still feels like it’s lodged in your throat. No words are spoken between the two of you; just an invisible string that keeps you entwined to one another.

It’s difficult to find the words to say, especially after something so raw and vulnerable; so new and budding. You want him to feel safe, like he had done good, though; you want to tell him he has nothing to worry about, not with you.

And just as you open your mouth to speak, to praise him for how well he had done, Bucky slides his hands up your thighs, over your waist, and up to your neck, cupping the back of it in his large palm. “I want–”

To your utter shock, he drags you closer, his lips greedily slotting over yours for a far deeper kiss.

Bucky can’t get enough of you; already addicted and demanding more. You can’t be mad for it, not when he’s a sensational kisser — he’s good, far too good. The basics have you dizzy with want, and you decide on a whim to challenge him, to push him a little further and test the boundaries.

You part your lips as Bucky pulls back, and before he could kiss you again, you tentatively tease your tongue against his lips. The sensation makes him sit rigid again beneath you, and he chases your tongue, the surprised moan he lets slip vibrates into your mouth.

The power of such a move has you smirking into the kiss.

You only plan to stoke the fire by pushing him into the deep end a little — the prospect of overwhelming him too risky, but when you feel the effortless slide of Bucky’s tongue entering your parted lips to dance with your own, it leaves you physically stunned and unable to move.

Bucky compliments you perfectly, as though he is a natural, and someone so timid should not be capable of that — it’s dangerous.

It escalates — tongues dance and lips clash, and Bucky’s breath is heavy on your lips, as yours is on his, when he pulls back for air. There’s a pull that you can’t ignore, not any longer, and you bring your hands up from his neck to his hair, threading your fingers through it, making him moan quietly against your lips, “Bu–”

Your nails scrape against his scalp while he speaks, and you squeak in shock as Bucky’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against your clothed cunt. “Oh, fuck–” he gasps, and his body turns rigid with fear again while he pleads for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, Bubs– I–”

Quickly, you place your index finger over his lips. “Hush, you. It’s alright. I loved it,” you reassure, and suddenly, it turns into a game for you — you are desperate to see how Bucky plays along, how close to the edge you can get him. “Let it go, it’s okay.”

Bucky’s breath hitches as you grind down hard against him, and his hands rush down from your neck to grip your waist. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful; a delight to be the cause of, and a Cheshire Cat grin splits your lips. You’ll be damned if you don’t get more from him, you decide.

“Fuck,” he grits out, the grip of his hands on your waist turning painful. “Fuck, yes.”

You moan and allow him to move your body where he wants it — predictably, he perches you straight on his crotch and his hands wander, slipping beneath the tank top you wear to brush against your skin.

The resolve he had held onto so strongly is starting to slip, and you inwardly scream with joy at the dilation of his pupils, the heavy pants of his breath — a poor, virtuous man is melting into a puddle at your feet.

The position of your body gives you an impression of just how big Bucky is, and with his cock hard, you can feel the girth and the size of him against your cunt — a crime, you think, that it wasn’t inside you.

Your motions of grinding down into him have the tip of his cock catching on your clit through your shorts, and the thin material has no pretence of protectiveness, and you greedily lap every single, last sensation up while shamelessly taking more.

“Bucky,” you whine against his mouth, and in turn, he nips at your swollen bottom lip before sucking on it. “Fuck– S’good.”

“Buttercup, baby,” Bucky slurs, and his fingertips dig into your skin, unknowingly marking you in his lust-fuelled haze. “Fuckin’ feel good, please,” he whimpers, unable to keep kissing you with the way his moans and litany of quiet cries fall from his lips, longing for more; too far gone, he can’t help himself anymore. “Need more, please.”

You’re all too pleased to listen to his cries for you; begging would taste so much sweeter, though. Next time. “Okay,” you soothe, pecking him on the nose. “I’ll give you more, sweetheart.”

The bed creaks as you shuffle up Bucky’s lap, and you move your hands to grip the headboard. “Don’t keep quiet on me,” you warn.

“Wha– Fuck!”

You pant as you grind down on Bucky’s cock, the effort of making your hips work this hard and fast steals your breath, but the sounds — oh, the sounds falling from his pretty lips make it all worth it.

The added friction of your lace panties against your soaked clit only amplifies the pleasure for you, and it’s all you can do to keep going.

Bucky throws his head back and groans to the ceiling, but you follow him, leaning over and panting into each other's mouths and kissing messily, barely able to put anything behind them as you work the both of you closer to release.

You pull back to look at him, and the slope of his neck is too tempting to leave alone — the loose strands from his hair are sticking to the sweat gathering on his skin, and you watch a bead of it roll down a curve of corded muscle.

Of course, you weren’t going to let it go — you want him to crack.

Bucky moans, his breath stuttering as your tongue chases the bead of sweat, and you latch onto his skin, sucking steadily at his pulse point. “Baby– Baby, please, fuck,” he babbles, forcing his head back further to expose more of his neck.

You oblige, all too willingly and with a giddy enthusiasm; the bow of your lips trace over his Adam’s apple and down to his collarbone, where you bite down gently.

“Shit, shit,” Bucky suddenly exclaims, his words slurring together. “No– No, please, I ca– Can’t,” he begs, and you pull away from his neck, brows furrowing in concern. “Please, I don’t want to– To, shit–”

Words seem to be out of his grasp, and you wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts while you watch the thread of his restraint wearing thin, so close to snapping when he’s this overwhelmed with the pleasure you are giving him.

You can’t have that, though.

Bucky was torturing himself, not allowing himself the pleasure of giving into his base desires - what he needs. “Can’t what, sweetheart?” you ask. “You can’t cum?”

Bucky nods his head frantically, his eyes widening. You consider him, the sweat on his brow and upper lip, the way his eyes plead for something more; he’s so desperate to not cum, to let go.

It’s plain as day that he is holding himself back, when you knew deep down that he is itching to relinquish control and give in.

You decide then to push, to throw caution to the wind and make him take it. “Why not?” you whine, grinding back and forth, back and forth, over his painfully hard cock. “Doesn’t my pussy feel good, baby?”

Bucky whimpers and scrunches his face up, cock throbbing as he grows closer to finishing. You don’t think he realises how he rambles to himself, “Fuck, yes! It does—fuck, it does baby.”

“Think for me, sweetheart,” you say, leaning close to his face. “Just think for me, how good being inside my pussy would be.” The lure of being inside your cunt cracks the last of his resolve; control slipping through his fingers before he can grasp hold of it.

You smirk, watching how his brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut. “Just think, Bucky,” you repeat, “How wet and tight I’d be for you. How I would scream for more; beg for more of your cock and what you give me.”

The sound Bucky makes is close to a wounded animal, and his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises. “Oh, sweetheart,” you coo, mouthing softly up his neck until your lips brush over the shell of his ear, and you whisper, “Doesn’t that sound good, baby?”

Something snaps within him.

The headboard of the bed thumps against the wall as Bucky tumbles over the cliff, his restraint long gone, and he wraps his arms tightly around you, curling them around your waist to hold you impossibly close. You feel something wet on your neck, and you realise belatedly that Bucky is crying silently, overwhelmed with the pleasure.

To reassure him, you thread your fingers through his hair again to scratch at his scalp. You feel his lips move up and down your neck, placing open mouthed kisses over the skin “Are you okay?” you ask softly, careful to not move in his hold. “Bucky, baby?”

“Mhm,” Bucky hums, and he buries his face further into your neck, nodding frantically. “Pleasepleaseplease.”

A victorious smirk pulls the corner of your lips up. You know you have him — Bucky’s too far gone to come back down now, and he won’t be able to stop.

“Go on,” you purr. Bucky hungrily grinds up into your heat, seeking it out and forcing a gasp from your lips with the pressure. “That’s it,” you push, and your last deadly blow has the dam breaking, once and for all: “Cum for me then, pretty boy.”

“Oh, oh, fuck– Baby–” Bucky moaned, but you keep steady pressure over his cock, and his hips start to stutter in rhythm. “Shit!”

“That’s it, that’s it, sweetheart,” you coax, just as a damp patch stains the crotch of his sweats, and his legs tremble under your thighs. There’s a loud thump as his head hits the headboard of his bed.

“Fuck–” Your own climax begins to mount, the tension of it unbearable, and just the band snaps, you cry out to the ceiling, “Bucky!”

The room is full of pants for air, the synchronised rise and fall of your chests in tandem with the twitching muscles of your body; the rushed gasps for breath a symphony to your ears.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, and you finally look at Bucky — only to be taken aback with the awestruck expression on his handsome face. His lips are stretched wide in a dopey grin, and his eyes, while normally so bright and soft, are glazed over with post-orgasm bliss.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers. You feel the brush of his fingers over your waist and thighs, a soothing touch that in combination with his words sends another wave of heat up your neck. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

You smile nervously, suddenly speechless with the earnestness and fondness in his voice. Instead, you shuffle down his thighs to rest your arms on his shoulders more comfortably, and you play with the hair on the nape of his neck — the soft locks damp with sweat.

The two of you stare into one another’s eyes, then, you rest your forehead on his to whisper, “Well, handsome, not so bad for your first kiss.”

Bucky starts to laugh, then giggles take over as he faceplants into your chest, nuzzling himself against your tits in shyness.

After a while, Bucky starts to shift in place, and you start to rise up off of his lap, when his sudden stiffness alarms you. “Bucky? What’s the matter?”

“I— I don’t, I didn’t mean to—“ He stutters, looking down at his crotch. You follow his gaze, utterly confused — there is nothing abnormal, only the wet patch of cum staining the material.

Your confusion only increases, and you look back to Bucky’s face. It’s blotchy and red from embarrassment. “Bucky?”

“I– Oh, goddamnit,” he mutters, and he looks down at his lap again pointedly.

The realisation washes over you; a lightbulb suddenly going off in your head. He was embarrassed over coming in his pants. “Bucky, sweetheart,” you say, moving to cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. “Listen to me, okay?”

Blue eyes meet yours, his gaze pensive. You muster the warmest, kindest smile; no judgement apparent in your own eyes as you stare at him. “There is no need to feel ashamed.”

“But–” Bucky tries.

“No, listen to me,” you interrupt, and you lean in closer, bumping his nose with yours before reassuring him, “There's no need to feel ashamed, sweetheart.”

His pure, innocent gaze doesn’t fail to make you swoon even more over him. “It doesn’t?”

“Of course not, you know why?” Bucky shakes his head, eyes wide and intent to listen to anything you have to say. Your lips hover over his as you whisper, “Because I love you making a mess for me, baby.”

The weekend passes by swiftly, a tangle of bedsheets and limbs; kisses and fleeting touches that turn into passionate embraces.

It was only when Steve came home on the Saturday night did he kick both you and Bucky out of the apartment with a yell of, “Bye! Have fun, kids!”

You decided to take Bucky back to your dorm-room — an easy decision when you get to watch how his eyes trail over your body as you walk down the halls holding hands.

And on Sunday morning, bright and early, a series of knocks on your dorm-room door wakes you out of your slumber. “Damn,” you grumble, blinking slowly into the dimly lit room. The curtains are drawn, but a slither of gold peeks from behind the fabric; right over Bucky’s face and the mess of his hair.

You sigh and tiredly throw the covers off you, mentally preparing yourself to get out of bed, but before you can get up, two arms curl around your waist and tug you backwards into a muscled chest. The warmth of the embrace makes you sigh contentedly.

“No,” Bucky groans before burying his face into your neck and smothering you with his body; trapping you with his arms and winding his legs around yours. “Dun’ get up.”

You giggle as he starts kissing your shoulders and nibbling at your neck — the stubble of his jaw tickling the soft skin while his lips soothed over it. “I have to,” you say quietly, and you grab his arm to pull it off, only–

“Nuh-uh. Where y’think you're goin’, Buttercup?” The deep rumble of his morning voice has you inner self trembling, memorising your antics of your weekend together. “Can’t leave me.” And to solidify his claim, Bucky clings onto you like a koala.

“Bucky, you big goof.” You slap his arm, but he just grunts his protest, clinging to your body tighter. “Come on,” you say, wriggling — it’s met with no success of him releasing you. “Get off of me so I can answer the door.”

But you should have known that he is far too stubborn to let up that easily — a stubborn puppy that refused to give up his treat. “No. Tell ‘em to fuck off.”

“Fine.” Your only hope is an attempt to bribe him, you decide, and you look at him to find he’s staring at you through a half-lidded eye, the other eye obscured by his pillow. “How about you let me go, and I promise to give you unlimited cuddles for the rest of the day, no moving whatsoever?”

That gets his attention, and he perks his head up to lean closer to yours. “I wan’ unlimited kisses, too,” he negotiates, pouting his lips and narrowing his eyes.

You cannot help but chuckle. “Deal, handsome.”

Bucky plonks backwards onto the bed, star fishing in his sulking — the treat now successfully taken away.

With your newfound freedom, you sit up and stretch, ignoring the grumbles and quiet whines of, “Bein’ left alone ain’t right,” and, “Tell whoever it is to fuck off, I mean it.”

The bedsheets rustle under you when you scoot to the edge, the warmth of Bucky’s body and the softness of the covers already sorely missed, especially when you stand up and slip into your fluffy, warm gown and slippers. The brush of Bucky’s shirt over your skin makes you smile, the fabric soft and worn but oh so perfectly Bucky.

“Hurry back, Buttercup,” he calls after you as you walk slowly out of the room. “Please—don’ leave me too long.”

“Drama queen,” you whisper, quiet enough he wouldn’t hear. The knocking comes again and you curse the cause — if it’s your friend from class asking to borrow your notes again, you were going to slam the door straight back in their face. Aloud, you say, “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t bust the hinges.”

You prepare the speech to scold your friend as you walk to the door, and you grab the hand;e — the metal of it cold from the chill overnight. The door swings open with a loud creak, and you start saying, “What are you–”

The lack of a presence, or anyone at the door, stops you short — not even a shadow of someone running away down the hall. “Fucking door dashers,” you groan, and you turn on your heel to go back inside when the toe of your slipper bumps into something on the ground. “What–?”

A gift basket, filled to the brim with an assortment of chocolates and scattered gift cards to your favourite stores, is innocuously sitting there. In the middle of the basket, poking its head out next to a bouquet of your favourite flowers, is the head of a stuffie Golden Retriever, the fur irresistibly soft and the eyes bright — much like Bucky’s. Its mouth held a note scrawled in messy cursive.

“Okay,” you mumble, and you kneel down to look at it closer, worried that there had been a mix up or confusion of a dorm number. As you near the letter, you realise that the messy scrawl spells out Flower. “Wait.”

That meant only one person was responsible.

Your fingers tore open the letter and unfold it; the messy scrawl continues on the inside, too.

Flower, I’m sorry for bailing on our movie night.

I know you’re pissed, but I hope this and the beefcake attached to your back makes up for my mistake.

Love ya squirt,

Your big bro.

“Stevie,” you say, eyes darting over the lines of script. “You sneaky bastard.” There is a post script just below his sign off, and you continue to read.

P.S. Date went well, tell you all about it on movie night next week? I’m sure we’ll have guests joining us x

Shaking your head in amusement, you place the note back with the stuffie, and pick up the rest of your basket. “What am I going to do with you,” you mumble, stepping back into your dorm to place the basket on the entry table to admire it again.

“Wha’s happenin’?” a voice rasps behind you, and sure enough, the aforementioned beefcake in the letter from Steve plasters himself to your back; arms around your waist and his face tucked into your neck again. “Back to bed, c’mon.”

Bucky drags you backwards, chuckling deeply at your squeal of laughter that echoes down the hallway to your bedroom. “You made me a promise,” he grunts, and he pulls you back into bed and underneath the covers, intent on making sure you fulfil your end of the bargain.

Part Two, Part Three

5K notes · View notes

osaemu · 5 months

Text

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.

contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).

author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!

ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.

at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.

last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be.

but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.

you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant.

a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”

you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”

after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”

“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.

but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.

it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.

“i don’t think this is working.”

six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.

“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—

“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?

satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.

“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace.

satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”

your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”

“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”

you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”

“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”

his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”

your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."

you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"

satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.

he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."

you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"

satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".

and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.

satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you.

and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.

the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.

a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.

as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.

toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?

toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig

you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.

satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.

the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.

so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.

“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?”

the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.

“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.

suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry

toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy

yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(

inumaki: chat is this real??

satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.

“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.

satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—

“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”

and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.

a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.

suguru: r u ok?

you: yeah ig

suguru: do u want anything?

satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.

but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read.

somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.

the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.

when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”

you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.

satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”

you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.

the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.

after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.

you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.

“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once.

“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”

“no, really, it’s alright.”

“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”

“let’s just go.”

the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now.

the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time.

after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door.

satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.

you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”

satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie.

“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?

well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”

what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.

“i�� uh, i mean—”

“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”

he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches.

ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”

your heart breaks again.

“then why did you—”

“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”

you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.

“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”

“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”

“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”

satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”

“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”

“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”

“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”

“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door.

“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes.

“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”

he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”

6K notes · View notes

endlessthxxghts · 13 days

Text

Best I Ever Had

Jackson!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 2.3k

Summary: Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.

Content/Warnings: Reader is able-bodied, no physical descriptions. Feminine perception of reader and feminine pet names (Joel calls you mama and babygirl), but no pronouns used. Reader's a fucking badass and can hold their own fights (probably Joel's too, tbh). Slight description of reader getting physical/violent with another person (bby has some anger issues). Established relationship. Implied age gap (exact number unspecified). A bit of insecure Joel. 18+ MDNI! Dom!reader !! Sub!Joel !!!! P in V unprotected. Slight breeding kink (reader just likes being filled, no children talk). Joel has a fast refractory period (don't think too much on it, just enjoy). Definitely some overstimulation. Cockwarming. Riding..straddling.. Teasing. Begging. Edging. Sloppy making out. Multiple orgasms. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed that should be up here!

A/N: Some get post-nut clarity, but I get post-nut lust. This was the product of that. Hope you enjoy, my angels. Thank you @honeyedmiller for beta’ing 🩶 also I picture both game Joel or hbo Joel, so it’s entirely up to you what you wanna visualize ;)

masterlist | updates blog

It was a busy night at the Tipsy Bison. Everyone was out. Everyone was mingling, getting to know each other. As if it wasn’t a small town already, but hey, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure you really knew the people living in this little forever-town.

Except, Joel was not one to mingle—especially on nights like tonight. Tommy insisted that he come, it’ll be nice, he tried to reason.

He eventually agreed. Not because of Tommy, though, but because of you.

You knew Joel was a certified grump, through and through. And you love Joel, you really do. But the post-apocalyptic world caused you to react differently than your man. Yeah, you’ve become tougher, harder to break, harder to trust. However, you crave any sense of normalcy you can find. So on occasion, you like to go out and get to know the people of the town. You like human interaction.

And when they say opposites attract, the saying couldn’t have been more true. Joel was absolutely smitten the day he met you. It’s been a long time coming between you two—with his vulnerability, or lack thereof, and his initial unwillingness to accept that he can finally relax and unclench his jaw—but you’re together now, stronger than ever, and everything is worth it.

You are worth it.

Which is exactly why all you needed was to give one raise of your brow during his protesting before Joel promptly shuts his lips and takes a defeated breath, fixing his answer to Tommy. “Oh, hell. Alright, brother, we’ll be there.”

And to be quite honest, Joel would go as far to say that tonight’s little get together was actually decent for once. That is, until he sees you waiting on the bartender for his beer and your old-fashioned, and a man—a boy—approaches you.

“Hey,” you heard a voice beside you say. Not realizing it was meant for you, your attention stays on the bartender. Still, the voice persists. “I was thinking, uh-” you look at the guy then, eyes staring him down in a way he perceives as a challenge.

He clears his throat. “I was thinking I could buy you a drink?”

“No, I’m good,” you say shortly. The bartender comes up to you, pulling you away from the guy’s feeble attempt at flirting. You tell the bartender your order, and before you can take another moment to speak, the guy pipes up.

“Put it on my tab,” he smirks triumphantly, taking a closer step to you.

You pull yourself away on instinct— out of disgust, but your eyes stay trained on his gaze. You’re pissed, but this naïve little boy has no idea. Both of what you're capable of and what the older man, your older man, across the bar is capable of.

“Thanks,” you smile, “my boyfriend’s gonna appreciate the free drink,” you tell the guy, turning to Joel and giving him a sweet smile. You’ve been feeling his stare the second this waste of space walked up to you.

Joel would pounce if you told him to. He knows you can handle yourself, though, and you confirm it through that pretty smile you flash him. He can’t deny the way his cock twitches at the way this scene is unfolding. Part of him is begging for the guy to try something more, to test you—to unleash you.

The guy scoffs the second he sees Joel. “That old man is your boyfriend? Come on, baby,” his hand reaches for the crook of your elbow. “You can do so much better than that,” he taunts.

And that was the something more you needed. Immediately your hand takes hold of his wrist, twisting the man to face the bar in a rough fashion as you lean him over the bar counter, his arm twisted behind his back, shoulder ready to snap out of his socket with the tiniest of movements.

“Wanna say that again?” You seethe, knocking the breath from his lungs as you push him into the wooden counter.

“I said—”

He’s cut off by his own high-pitched scream. You push his arm higher, a sharp pain shooting through every nerve center in the guy’s arm.

“Sweetheart,” a southern twang says softly, but it’s not your man. Tommy. “I know he probably deserves it, darlin’, but it’s not worth it,” he says, not wanting to aggravate you more. Everyone knows not to test you.

Well, apparently not everyone.

You roll your eyes, knowing Tommy’s just trying to keep up the liveliness of tonight. “Fine,” you mutter. Leaning closer into the guy, you whisper into his ear. “Talk about my fuckin’ man like that again, and I’ll snap your shoulder so fuckin’ hard, Jackson’s doctors won’t even know what to do with ya. Ya hear me?” You’re not from the South, and before the outbreak, you’ve never even been. But get angry enough, and Joel’s twang possesses you.

You release the crying boy with a shove, and you back up, wanting to pull yourself away from the situation. Your back is met with something hard, and immediately you know who it is. You soften in his touch as his arms immediately wrap around your waist. “You alright, babygirl?” Joel rasps in your ear. You can feel his fucking hard-on pressed against your back.

The guy looks at you and Joel, chest still heaving as his face turns into disgust, a fuck you muttered under his breath, an aftertaste of jealousy on his lips.

Smiling wildly at the guy in front of you, you snake your hand up to wrap around Joel’s jaw before you turn your head back and tilt your head up, pulling Joel into an open-mouthed kiss, your tongue pushing into his mouth as he eagerly sucks it, lapping up your spit. He groans into you, his arms pulling you impossibly tighter into him.

You pull away with a harsh nip to his lip, feeding off the little whimper Joel lets out. “Baby,” he whines.

You look back to the guy, and the silent audience you’ve accumulated. “Come on, cowboy,” you breathe. “I’m not done with you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies happily, spinning you two around and walking out with you still pressed against him.

The bar stays quiet after a beat. Tommy’s hand slaps the bar counter before he speaks. “Well. Get the music back going unless y’all wanna hear ‘em goin’ at it all night!” The bar roars in laughter, the music coming back to life.

Before returning back to Maria, Tommy turns to the guy. “You. Out.”

He scrambles without looking back.

“Oh my God, baby.”

“Fuck— I- I can’t, baby, I can’t hold it much longer, baby, I need to come.”

“Just one more second, baby.”

“Mama, please,” he cries out, his head lolling from side to side on his sweat-soaked pillow as you grind your hips into his pelvis, lifting yourself on and off him every other moment. His hands hold onto your hips, not in a way to control your movement but to simply feel you.

“Oh, come on, be a good boy for me, baby,” you moan, your hand fixing itself onto his jaw to make him look at you. “Just wanna feel you twitch inside me a little bit more ‘fore you make a mess inside me, okay?”

“Oh, fuck— yes, yes, mama, yes, okay,” he rambles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pleasurable pain as you take and take and take.

A particular grind sends your back arching, his pubes soaked in your arousal nudging perfectly against your clit, sending an electric pulse up your spine. You cry out in ecstasy, your climax hitting you instantly. “Oh fuck, oh shit- fuckfuckfuck, baby, come with me— come inside me, baby, fucking fill me,” you nearly scream, hoping that boy can hear you now.

“Shit, baby, oh my God- fuck- I’m coming, mama, holy fuck- I-” he stutters, his thigh muscles shaking underneath you as you bounce on him through his climax, the mix of his spend with yours bouncing lewdly across the walls of your shared bedroom.

Your hips come to a slow but never stop, your chest heaving as you lean down to bring your lips to Joel. You let them ghost across his lips, but you don’t let them touch. He knows better not to chase it, not yet, anyway. He can still feel you fuming.

You can do so much better than that.

“Can you fucking believe him?” You whisper against his lips, barely audible yet fucking scary nonetheless.

Joel thinks that boy is right, deep down. Even though he’d never want you to leave him, and you’d never want him to leave you. Joel thinks that there’s a crumb of moral rightness in that statement. But he keeps that to himself.

Nevertheless, you know Joel like the back of your hand. He doesn’t need to utter a lick of anything to you. You already know what he’s thinking.

“Joel,” you say again. “I asked you a question.”

All questions must be answered.

Fuck.

“Y-yeah, baby,” he rumbles, too distracted by the comments from the bar, but mainly still caught up in the way his softening come-covered cock is still nestled inside of you.

You sit up now. A whine leaves his throat at the movement. “So you do believe him?”

Only then does he realize what he said. His eyes shoot up to yours. “W-wait, no, baby, ‘m sorry, no. No, I don’t believe him, baby,” he panics.

You quirk your eyebrow at him.

“The fuckin’ audacity on ‘em,” he adds for good measure.

You’re silent for a beat. Then—

“You’re lying.”

Joel’s heart starts to race. “No, baby. Please. Mama, I’m not lyin’,” he tries.

Still straddling his hips, you grab onto his bicep, pulling upward. He gets the hint and sits up. He’s still inside you, his cock slowly growing to full mast again the longer you sit here.

You’re face to face now. His arms are loosely wrapped around your waist, your arms tightly around his neck.

“Look me in my eye,” you whisper, “and tell me you’re the best I ever had.”

Joel audibly gulps.

Slow— so slow, your hips begin to move again. A breathy little moan escapes your mouth, and he lunges forward for you, his tongue dancing along the tip of yours, swallowing your breath. You allow it.

“Tell me,” you groan into his mouth, practically swallowing his tongue as you shallowly bounce yourself on him.

“Baby,” he whines, getting lost in this dance of heat and sweat he’s become utterly addicted to.

You break yourself away from his mouth, not allowing him the option to reach for you anymore. He pulls back, eyes wild and sad. His mouth turned down into a literal pout.

“My poor baby,” you mutter. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” you say again. “Or you’re not getting my lips nor are you coming for the rest of the night,” you tell him, switching back into your grinding motion to stimulate your sensitive bud, letting him feel the way your pussy flutters around him.

“Baby,” he begs again as you grind, your warmth forcing him to another climax. Please don’t make me say it, he’s trying to convince you.

Your fingers find their home at the base of his salt and pepper curls, tugging them in warning. “Tell. Me.”

You force his body down to lay flat on the bed again, towering over him, allowing your body the space to lift yourself off of him, only his tip inside of you. He takes a sharp breath in, knowing what’s coming.

You drop yourself down on him, fucking yourself on his cock at a bruising pace. You grab his hands and drag them up to your chest, wrapping his thick digits around you encouraging him to squeeze.

“Fuck- mama, I’m gonna—”

“No the fuck you’re not, baby,” you moan, lost in the pleasure but still rightfully in charge. “Swear to God, Joel, gonna leave you fucking swollen and pulsing for a fucking week— oh fuck,” you cut yourself off, a familiar sensation building at the base of your spine, sending you convulsing around his length yet again.

Joel’s eyes clamp shut, finally giving into your request so he can finally let go. “I— shit, I’m the—” a rugged moan forces itself out, “—the best you ever had, mama, please, the fuckin’ best, baby,” he cries out, his hips bucking up into you as he covers every inch of you with his spend.

“Shit,” you moan, his words affecting you a lot more than you anticipated, your hips doing overtime, unable to find it within you to stop even as he begins to soften. “Yes, fuck, that’s my boy, shit—” you breathe, “—the fucking best, always make me feel so fucking good, baby.”

His hands finally use their strength, trying his best to slow you with ease, his nerves reaching the point of painful overstimulation. “Alright, baby, alright,” he winces.

Recognizing his limits, you immediately begin to slow, lowering yourself onto his heaving chest. You let him slip out of you this time, giving him an actual break. “I’m sorry,” you whisper into his chest.

“For what, baby?” Joel responds with a kiss into your head.

“Did I go too far?”

He couldn’t help the belly laugh that shakes the both of you. You immediately sit back up, your hands on his chest to keep your limp body up. “What?” you glare at him.

“Too far? Which part, darlin’? Nearly breakin’ that guy’s shoulder or my dick?”

A belly laugh erupts out of you this time. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you respond. “...Both.”

“Mmm…” Joel puts on a fake thinking face. “Maybe to the former, but not at all to the latter,” he hums, his hands finding the back of your head to pull you in for a chaste kiss.

You hum into his lips, a smile stretching across your cheeks.

Resting your head on his chest, you let a few moments pass before you speak again. “Tommy’s not gonna invite us to another one of those, huh?”

“Probably not, mama,” he smiles. “Probably not.”

I’d love to hear what you think!! Any feedback or interactions with you all truly brightens my day. So so so much love for you all. Thank you for being here 🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

graphics by @saradika-graphics (middle divider in fic by me)

2K notes · View notes

smileysuh · 2 months

Text

Love Plug

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”

tw/cw. weed/drug use, shotgunning (kissing after John's taken a hit from a joint), reader likes wine, alcohol, plug!Johnny, unprotected sex, oral (f/m receiving) face riding, big dick john, 69-ing, size kink, grinding, multiple reader orgasms, fingering, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, ass groping, hand job, creampie/filling kink, cumming together, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.9k

🍭 aus. plug/drug dealer!Johnny, semi-strangers to lovers, Valentine's Day, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know this is slightly late, as it's Valentine's Day themed, but I hope ya'll like it anyway! big thank you to @sehunniepotwrites, my beta reader, my fellow John lover, my bestie- Love you girlie, thank you for helping me edit this to get it posted on time 💕

Being alone on Valentine’s Day is never fun. It would be one thing if you were with your girlfriends, but today, you’ll truly be alone. Everyone is busy, people are working, or with significant others- you feel like you’re the only person without plans, and it’s driving you completely insane.

Your apartment is spotless, you’d gone on a cleaning bender to distract yourself from today’s date, but as three o'clock rolls in, you find yourself sitting on your couch and staring at the ceiling.

There’d been a time in your life when boredom would make way for addictive traits. Dopamine-filled hobbies that you’ve since done your best to squash. But as three becomes four and you have nothing to satiate yourself - not even the pink bottle of wine in your fridge has been able to drown your loneliness - you begin to consider more drastic measures.

You’d never been a stoner, per se, but you’d gone with your cousin a few times to pick up from her run-of-the-mill dealer. If anything can help you relax and watch a movie, you think it might be some Grade A Indica.

Unknown number: Hi John, are you out today?

John: define out. Who is this

Unknown number: shit

Unknown number: my cousin gave me your number, I’ve picked up from you a few times

Unknown number: You probably don’t remember me but my name is y/n

John: I remember you

John: how much do you need?

Unknown number: I’m thinking $100 worth?

John: I’ll bring my shit. Text me your address and I can be over within the hour

Usually, when your cousin has gotten in contact with John, he comes to her apartment and the two of you go outside, filing into his truck. He has a duffle with jars full of weed, shatter, and the like. You give him money and he helps you decide what your night is going to look like.

When John calls you half an hour after you’ve texted him, you’re already almost at your door. “I’ll be down in a sec,” you tell him, searching for your keys.

“How about you buzz me up instead?” he suggests. “I’m outside the front door.”

You freeze for a moment. As far as you know, John’s never come up to your cousin’s apartment, and the idea of inviting the sexy local plug up into your one bedroom is sketchy… but at the same time, you’re feeling kind of desperate.

“Okay, type my apartment number into the keypad and I’ll let you in. The elevator will take you to my floor.”

You hang up, and a moment later your phone rings again. You press the buzz-up key and hold your breath.

You’re not sure if you’re scared of being alone with John because he’s a drug dealer or if you’re frightened of your own lack of self-control. John’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen and this is Valentine’s Day. You’d been planning on maybe getting a little high, pulling out your vibrator, and having a good time with yourself… but if you could have a good time with him…

You give your head a shake, reaching for your bottle of wine. You pour the last bit of it into a cup, lifting it to your lips while you wait for the local plug to arrive at your door.

When he knocks, you practically jump, heart lurching in your chest. You scurry to your door, not wanting to make him wait- not wanting any of your neighbors to see the tall, sexy, tattooed man standing outside your home.

John greets you with a grin. “Special delivery,” he jokes, stepping past you and into the apartment and looking around. “You’ve got a nice place.”

“Thank you.”

You watch him head into the living space. He walks as if he’s been here before, as if he belongs here. The duffle makes a thumping sound when he nonchalantly sets it onto your small dining table, but John doesn’t immediately open it to show you the product like he does when you’ve bought from him before.

“Is it just me, or does it feel kind of sad in here?” John asks, turning to look at you.

“Hmm?”

“I just mean…” he gestures around, “spotless house, a pretty girl alone on Valentine’s Day… you haven’t bought from me in a while, sweet thing, I kind of thought you’d quit.”

“I did quit-” you stutter, “I mean… I was never a huge stoner or anything, so I wouldn’t say I quit-”

John grins while watching you search for an explanation. He leans back, palms flat on the dining table. The black v-neck he’s wearing shows off some of his chest piece and the tattoos on his neck are definitely a distraction as you try to formulate words.

“Look, all I’m saying is… I’d hate for you to lose your sobriety streak because you’re feeling lonely on Valentine’s Day.”

“I’m not exactly sober,” you scoff, reaching for your glass of wine.

“Is that a rosé?”

You look down at the liquid. “It’s a pink strawberry sparkling wine.”

“Sounds nice. Give me a taste.” He holds out a hand, and it’s clear that it’s more of a demand than a request, so with a sigh, you hand your cup to the local plug.

John swirls the glass, then he lifts it to his lips. He doesn’t sip, doesn’t take his time, he simply tilts his head back and downs the wine in two large gulps. When he’s done, he wipes his hand across his mouth, grinning mischievously. “Yummy.”

“That was the last of it,” you groan. “Now I have to hit the liquor store too.”

“Is it usual for you to get crossed, sweet thing? Weed and wine? You must really be feeling some type of way today.”

“So says the drug dealer working on Valentine’s Day.” You roll your eyes, annoyed that he’d downed your whole glass and isn’t cutting to the chase of your transaction.

“Ouch,” John laughs. “When did you get such a mouth on you?”

“Since you just drank an entire cup of wine in two seconds and started talking about my sobriety streak- are you going to sell me some weed or not?”

“For a girl with nowhere to be, you sound like you’re in a rush,” John muses. “You want to get me out of your home that badly, huh?”

“I mean, I would have preferred meeting you at your car,” you admit.

John simply shrugs. “And I wanted to see how dire your situation was. Clearly, it’s pretty fucked. Listen, we can still go down to my car if you want.”

“Will you sell me the weed if I go with you?”

“Nah, but I can take you out for a drink instead.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and your mind does mental gymnastics to make sense of the suggestion.

Is he asking you out?

Finally, you ask, “Aren’t you working?”

“The good thing about being your own boss is you can always say fuck it, I wanna go to a bar,” John points out. “So are you going to come with me and let me distract you better than weed would? Or are you going to mope around here with no wine, no weed, and no sexy plug to make you feel better?”

You definitely have a sexy plug or two hidden away under your bed that could make your day better- but you don’t tell John that. Instead, you let out a sigh. “I guess I have nothing better to do.”

“That’s the spirit, sweet thing, now let’s go on an adventure.”

The place he takes you to is a complete dive. It’s a dark ambiance, and as you settle onto a bar stool, you notice the stickiness of the counter in front of you. John, however, seems completely at home here. He doesn’t mind the alcohol-stained wood, leaning over it to speak to the bartender over the loud rock music that plays through the establishment. “Two shots of the regular,” he announces.

“You got it, Johnny,” she laughs, turning to grab a bottle of whiskey from one of the higher shelves.

“So I guess I don’t have to ask if you come here often,” you breathe.

“And I don’t have to ask if you’ve been here before. You stick out like a sore thumb, sweet thing. Relax a little.”

You let out a sigh. “Are we really going to do whiskey shooters?”

“I’m buying so I’m choosing,” John insists. “But if you want a cocktail or something, you can get that too, on me.”

So instead of taking your money today, he’s spending his money on you.

John is an enigma, and the confusion you feel has you more curious than ever.

“So how’d a guy like you get into your line of work?” you ask.

“He’s eighteen, gets stupid tattoos on his neck and hands, is rejected from other lines of work, and then discovers he has a talent for growing the best weed in town,” John responds. “Although, between you and me, I’m pretty good at growing orchids too.”

You had not pegged him as a plant guy. He’s always seemed so one-dimensional, and you realize now that your stereotype of him had been wrong. You’d never have thought John was the one actually growing the product he sells, and the idea of him nursing an orchid - a famously difficult flower - has your heart softening.

The bartender returns, setting two shots in front of you and John. “How’s your day going, Hyuna?” John asks, picking up a conversation with her.

“It’s going,” she sighs.

“Ouch, that doesn’t sound good,” John muses, pushing one of the shooters in front of you. “I thought you were seeing that new guy- the finance bro. Figured you’d be with him today.”

“I’m not sure he’s the commitment type.” Hyuna brushes her long dark hair over a shoulder, looking between you and John. “Besides, someone has to run this lonely hearts club here. You’re ruining the single vibe by bringing a date.”

“My bad for not introducing her, by the way,” John grins. His arm comes around the back of your chair, and he pulls you closer. “This is sweet thing, I’m saving her from making bad decisions today.”

“Yeah? And how are you doing that?” Hyuna laughs.

“By substituting one drug for another.” John picks up his shooter, turning to you. “To bad decisions.”

With a sigh, you grab your own shot, lifting it to clink against John’s. “To bad decisions,” you echo.

The whiskey is like fire as you shoot it, and you have to do your best not to sputter from how bad it tastes. You feel your face scrunch up involuntarily, and it earns laughs from Hyuna and John.

“I think we can all agree Johnny’s taste in alcohol is a bad decision,” Hyuna muses. “What can I get you, sweet thing?”

You order your drink of choice. John asks for three more shooters. When Hyuna sets them all down in front of you, John holds one out to her. “This one’s for you. I’m sorry it’s not working out with finance bro.”

Hyuna assesses the shot, then, with a groan, she grabs it. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

“No one’s gonna care,” John insists. “And we both know your manager is in love with you. Just take the shot, babes.”

Hyuna rolls her eyes and downs the drink. She sets the glass down, her perfectly manicured black nails dragging along it momentarily. “You and your annoying tastes.”

“You’ll learn to love this,” John assures her. “You learned to love me, right?”

“After I got over how annoying you are.”

John only laughs. He downs another shot, bringing his total to three. Then he stands up abruptly. “Vape break,” he announces. “You girls better not have too much fun without me.”

You watch him leave, sipping on your cocktail.

“So how did you two meet?” Hyuna asks, half turning to remove some glasses from the washer so she can polish them while you chat.

You lean forward, whispering, “He’s literally my plug.”

“John’s everyone’s plug,” Hyuna laughs.

“How about you? He’s a regular?”

“Yeah, but I also dated his sister once upon a time,” Hyuna explains. “He was her annoying kid brother. I did my best to be nice to him but things didn’t end so well with her- then three years later he came in here, all tattooed and wreaking of weed- He recognized me right away, and he’s been coming in here ever since. Tips good too.”

You’d been wondering about the specificities of their relationship. Hyuna’s gorgeous, like- one of the prettiest bartenders you’ve ever seen. Her lean arms are covered in intricate tattoos, her nails are filed to points, her hair is perfect, her cheekbones are prominent and her lips are puffy like pillows-

Who wouldn’t have a crush on her?

“He’s an interesting guy,” you muse finally.

“Don’t let his tattoos fool you,” Hyuna says, meeting your eye. “He’s a sweetheart. He just likes to look all tough because of his job.”

You consider what she’s just said.

“So…” your throat feels a little dry. “Does he often come in here with girls?”

“Never. And especially not on Valentine’s Day.” Hyuna sets a cup down, leaning over the bar top to get a good look at you. “So tell me, sweet thing, what’s the end goal here?”

“Hmm?”

“Johnny might be an annoying plug, but like I said, he’s a good guy. I’m not dating his sister anymore, but he’s still like a kid brother to me. I don’t want to see him get hurt.” There’s a beat of silence. “He’s giving you heart eyes, and he let you choose your own drink. John doesn’t even let me choose my own drink once in a blue moon when we go out. He’s also never cared about what drugs I do, so why does he care so much about you? What makes you so special?”

“I…” you set your cocktail down. “I really can’t answer that.”

Hyuna cocks her head, pursing her lips. “Girl to girl, don’t be a bitch to him. I’m the one he’s going to come crying to if you reject him really hard. Let him down softly, if you have to.”

“Honestly, girl to girl, I don’t even know if he’s into me that way.”

“Sweet thing,” Hyun scoffs, “you must be blind as a bat. Don’t you see the way he’s looking at you?”

“I sort of thought he was just horny for Valentine’s Day.”

The bartender lets out a barking laugh. “The only things Johnny’s horny for are things that come in green: money and weed. He doesn’t date, babes, and you two are on a date.”

Your lips part to respond, but the door to the bar opens and John comes back inside. He lumbers over with a grin, taking the seat next to you. His arm slides around the back of your chair and he leans forward, looking between you and Hyuna. “So what did I miss?”

“Nothing important,” Hyuna lies.

“In that case, I think I’m going to order a-”

“You’re aware that at some point I’ll have to take your keys away, right?” Hyuna raises a brow at John. “I just gave you three shots, you have one sitting in front of you still-”

“We both know I’m a heavyweight,” John insists.

“Sure you are,” Hyuna rolls her eyes, “and your skin is naturally pink.”

You assess John. Hyuna must have good vision, because in the shitty lighting of the bar, you can hardly tell that John has definitely flushed from the alcohol. His cheeks are a rosy hue, and he looks as boyish as ever, a stark contradiction to the neck tattoos that are also beginning to blossom with color.

“How about this… two more shots,” John bargains, holding up three fingers.

Hyuna scoffs loudly.

“How about… two more shots,” John continues to hold three fingers, “And I’ll buy dessert so my body doesn’t turn into a complete whiskey barrel.”

“Two desserts and you have a deal,” Hyuna sighs.

“Two desserts it is.” John sits back in his chair. “What are you thinking, sweet thing? This place has a really good brownie, although, there's no weed in it.”

“We’ve also got apple pie with ice cream, tiramisu from the Italian place next door-” Hyuna does her best to be helpful, and you’re beginning to appreciate the tough love elder sister act thing she has going on.

You order the dessert that sounds most to your liking, and as you wait, John begins to ask about your cousin. “She’s a trooper,” he muses. “I sold her this massive thing of mushrooms last week and she texted me like two days ago asking for more.”

“She’s a heavy hitter for sure,” you agree.

“She told me once that she only does things like weed and shrooms because they come from the Earth,” John continues. “Never asks for links to cocaine or MDMA or anything- just the Earthy shit. She told me it’s cuz she’s a Taurus.”

You laugh. “That’s my cousin.”

“It was interesting meeting you for the first time,” John continues. “Your cousin gets into the car, knows exactly what strains of weed she wanted- pretty sure she was buying shatter. And there you are, asking for a blunt. Didn’t know if you wanted indica or sativa or a hybrid…” John shakes his head, as if it was the most baffling experience in the world. “In the end, I gave you some indica. Could tell you had a lot of anxiety and shit. I was kind of happy when you stopped buying, I’d hoped you’d found some other outlets or something.”

“I picked up wine,” you say, only half joking.

“Look, on our way back to your place to drop you off, I’ll stop and pick up a bottle for you to make up for what I drank earlier, deal?”

“Deal.”

John grins, and then you see his hand dipping down into his pocket. “Vape break.”

You watch John lumber outside again, and you release a deep sigh, meeting Hyuna’s eye. “Boys and their vapes.”

Dessert had helped mellow John out somewhat, and he’d actually been pretty law abiding while driving to the liquor store after. The two of you are now walking around the aisles, with John asking you all sorts of questions about your preferences when it comes to booze.

It feels shockingly domestic, especially when people go to move past you and John’s hand finds the small of your back, gently prompting you in front of him to make way for others to go by.

“What if I get us two bottles, and you let me come up for a movie,” John suggests as you reach for a replacement wine from earlier.

“What sort of movie?” you ask.

“Anything you want.”

“Are you sure I’m the only lonely one today?” you tease. “You’re being pretty clingy, John.”

“Anxious girls love a man that clings,” the plug insists. “Here, I’ll sweeten the pot for my sweet thing. Three bottles of wine, on me, and I’ll hand roll a blunt that will blow your socks off.”

“What happened to not wanting me to lose my no-weed streak?”

“I never said I’d let you smoke it, I just said I’d hand roll it and you’d be super impressed by my skills.”

You let out a laugh. It’s shocking how much your opinion of him has changed in a few short hours. You can’t believe how comfortable he’s making you feel.

“Fine. Three bottles,” you agree.

John grabs two more to join the one in your hand, and you head to the checkout. As you’re waiting in line, his phone rings, and he brings it to his ear.

“Hey, Mark…” John’s eyes meet yours. “I mean, I’m kind of busy… You really need it huh? Okay, give me a sec.” The plug presses his phone to his chest. “I’ve got a buddy who wants to link up. He lives pretty close by. It would take like… ten or fifteen minutes max. You good with that?”

“Yeah,” you agree. “Sounds okay.”

John lifts his phone back to his ear. “Okay, I’ll be there in ten minutes. You better be waiting outside though, I told you I’m busy.”

A short while later, you’re sitting in the front passenger’s seat of John’s truck as he pulls up in front of an apartment building. A man in a hoodie and baseball cap is standing there, and he quickly gets into the back, giving you an odd look.

“Mark, this is sweet thing. Sweet thing, this is Mark,” John says smoothly.

“Dude. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

John ignores the comment. “How much are you spending today?”

“Five hundred.” Mark pulls a wad of bills out of his pocket.

“The usual?” John asks, reaching down for the duffle by your feet.

“Half shrooms, quarter indica flower, quarter butter or shatter, whatever you think is best today.”

“You got it.” John sets the duffle gently on your lap, rifling through it. He begins to pull things out, like a jar full of weed. As John sections it off into bags, Mark leans forward to get a better look at you.

“Sorry for interrupting your plans,” he says sheepishly.

“That’s okay,” you assure him.

“You guys up to anything fun?”

“Movie night,” John answers, tossing a baggie of weed back at his friend.

“Nice.” Mark nods to himself, waiting patiently.

Soon, John’s fulfilled the order. Mark hands the cash to the plug, and with one final nod and half smile, he gets out of the car.

“So…” John’s hand returns to the wheel. “Movie night?”

You’re two glasses of wine into the movie when John begins to roll a joint. He’s seated next to you on the couch, his thigh just touching yours as he bends over the coffee table. For a guy with such large hands, he’s more adept than you would have thought he’d be at the fine-tuned movements needed to make the perfect joint.

You’re more enthralled by him than the movie at this point, and you can’t help the way your body reacts when he lifts up his nearly finished product to swipe his tongue across the paper. He seals the joint masterfully before turning to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna pop onto your deck for a moment to smoke this.”

“I’ll join you,” you tell him immediately, pausing the movie to stand up.

You follow him outside, momentarily taken aback by how cold it’s gotten.

John pulls a lighter out of his pocket, and after one sharp flick, he begins to smoke the joint.

You like the way his jaw looks in the shadows of light from the deck lamp. He’s so handsome and regal-

The cloud of smoke he exhales is bigger than anything you’d ever be able to do yourself, and even that is sexy in some odd way.

“You’re really not going to give me a hit?” you ask.

“Nope.” John looks at you with a lazy expression and a half smile. “You’re the good girl, and I’m the bad guy, remember.”

“Bad guy,” you scoff.

“Why are you laughing, sweet thing? I’m a plug with tattoos. I’m bad.”

“You’re a softie.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh. “Says who?”

“Says me,” you insist.

“Yeah? And how do you figure?”

You think about it for a moment before responding. “You’ve taken care of me today… even though you didn’t have to.”

“Well, I wanted to.” John takes another puff, blowing it in your face. “It was pretty self-serving actually.”

You roll your eyes, waving away the smoke. “Sure it was, John.”

“Johnny,” he says quietly. “Call me Johnny.”

You stare at him, taking in his pretty face, the way his perfect lips wrap around the joint when he takes a puff. “Johnny… be for real. Why are you here?”

He lets out a laugh, but there’s little humor in it. “Isn’t it obvious?”

You shake your head, holding your breath while you wait for him to elaborate.

Johnny sighs. “Look. I’ve always liked you. I liked having you come around, needing an explanation about weed, and joints versus blunts, and indica versus sativa- it was like… it was like having a little bit of sunshine every once in a while. Then you stopped buying, and I was happy about that, but I also wasn’t. Hadn’t heard from you in months, didn’t have your number, couldn’t ask your cousin about you- you texted, and it’s Valentine’s Day, and I came up and saw you were alone- and… I don’t know… I just hate missed opportunities, and I couldn’t let this one pass me by.”

You’re really not sure what to say. His demeanor is usually kind of joking, he’s the type to always have a smile- but right now, he’s not smiling, not joking- he’s being dead serious.

“I’m happy I messaged you.” You feel stupid as the words leave your lips, but they bring back Johnny’s boyish grin.

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh,” you step closer, looking up at the tall plug. “Thanks for taking me out for drinks.”

“It would have been a crime to leave a sweet thing like you alone on Valentine’s Day, and trust me, I know all about crime.”

God, he’s such a goof. Why is he so endearing?

“Do you know about shotgunning?” you ask.

Johnny’s brows furrow for a second. “I’m shocked you know about shotgunning.”

“Do you wanna try it?”

The plug looks you up and down. “Is this a ploy to get at my joint?”

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head.

Johnny leans forward, meeting your eyes as his lips almost brush past your own. “Liar.”

He pulls away, slotting the joint in his mouth. He watches you while taking a long drag. Then he’s removing the joint and bending down again, meeting your gaze.

You lean forward, reaching to gently grab at his shoulders. Your heart is racing a million miles a minute in your chest, and you do your best to exhale, although it comes out shaky.

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

Johnny doesn’t have to be told twice, he closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours in an open-mouthed kiss. He exhales the smoke into your lungs and you do your best to breathe it in, but Johnny’s so much bigger than you, and you have to pull away before he’s completely finished his breath.

You sputter a little, feeling tears in your eyes. There’s a rush through your body, and you feel a little wobbly, but your grip on Johnny keeps you standing.

“John-” As soon as you’ve recovered, he’s kissing you again, but this time, it’s not for the purpose of shotgunning.

This time, he’s kissing you like he means it.

Like he needs it.

His large hand cups your cheek, and he releases a soft groan when you kiss him back, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders to pull him closer.

He tastes like weed and wine, and oddly enough it’s not a bad combination. As his tongue swipes past your lip and you open your mouth for him, you find yourself releasing a groan of pleasure.

Johnny returns the sound. In the periphery, you’re aware of him flicking the joint to the ground in favour of grabbing you with both hands. First, he cups your hips, pulling you flush against him, but after a moment, he reaches down to squeeze your ass too.

You go for a breather, and he takes the opportunity to kiss your throat, teasing his tongue against your skin and making you shiver in the cold evening air.

“You know…” you thread your fingers through his hair, “if you won’t give me drugs to use for happy chemicals, the least you could do is give me an orgasm.”

Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look at you with eyes that somehow sparkle. “I thought that was a given, sweet thing.”

“It better be,” you tease, cupping the back of his neck to bring his lips to yours again.

This time, when the kiss deepens and Johnny bends down to cup your ass, he lifts you off the ground, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips. He pushes the door open behind you, taking you back inside.

You’re so lost in his lips you almost don’t realize he’s moved past your couch, and then he’s gently laying you onto your bed. “So how do you like it?” he asks, pulling away so he can tear his hoodie and shirt off, revealing a toned chest, and all the tattoos you’ve been itching to see.

“I like it any way you want to give it to me. Dealers choice.”

Johnny lets out a laugh. “You’re cute.”

“You’re cute,” you retort, hooking your fingers in his belt to draw him closer again.

Johnny presses a hand to the bed by your head, bending over you so he can kiss you. Your thighs wrap around him, pulling him fully on top of you while you’re locked in the hottest tongue battle of your life.

He’s just so big and sexy- the weight of him is enough to have you gasping, even though he’s still holding himself up with his elbow now propped into the bed.

His free hand finds your hip, slipping under your shirt to trace your skin. Each brush of his fingers builds the fire in the pit of your stomach, and as he slowly moves to grasp your breast, you find yourself almost dying with need for him.

You whimper lewdly against his lips, pushing your chest up toward his palm. With a bra in the way, you can’t get the proper stimulus against your nipple, and within moments of him massaging your tits, you begin to tear your shirt off, needing more.

Johnny helps you remove the fabric, tossing it to the side so his mouth can find your throat. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, reaching under you to undo the clasp of your bra. “Can I take this off?”

“Yeah, fuck- let's get naked.”

Johnny chuckles, pulling away to look down at you. “You sure you didn’t drink too much wine, sweet thing?”

“I’m mostly sober.”

“And that shotgunning didn’t make you needy?”

“You make me needy,” you insist, cupping his face. “You know how you said you were into me months ago? When we first met, I swear I thought you were the sexiest plug I’d ever seen.”

“Probably the only plug you’d ever seen,” Johnny points out with a grin.

“John,” you meet his gaze, “earlier, when you first got here, I wasn’t even sure if I should invite you up. I was worried I’d lose my self-control and jump you or something- trust me, the physical attraction has always been there, but… getting to know you today, I like who you are inside too… so, just fuck me, yeah?”

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to us lonely hearts, huh?”

Instead of answering, you kiss him again, tangling your fingers in his hair. Johnny groans when you tug gently, and he grinds his hips down against your own. You can feel the bulge of his cock as it drags against your core, and you’re pretty sure your panties are going to be ruined after this.

You can’t help yourself, you trace your hand down from his shoulders to his chest, then his abdomen- then you cup his cock, applying pressure that has him moaning again, thrusting against your hand for friction.

“I think I kind of want you in my mouth,” you admit breathlessly.

“That’s funny, I want you in mine.”

You think about it for a moment. “Sixty-nine?”

“Fuck, you’re a girl after my own heart, aren’t you, sweet thing?”

You can only grin, heart thundering in your chest as you push at Johnny’s shoulders, prompting him to roll onto his back.

“You take off your pants, and I’ll take off mine,” you suggest, getting off of him so you can work on your jeans.

Johnny doesn’t need to be told twice, and you watch the way his muscles ripple under his skin as he hurries to get naked.

He’d never actually taken off your bra, so you do that yourself. In moments, you’re both completely nude.

You stare at Johnny, taking in his cock.

He’s rock-hard and huge. It makes you excited, but you’re also not sure how well you’ll be able to take him. He must be at least seven or eight inches, and thick too, with a pretty mushroom tip that’s already leaking precum.

He grins at your reaction. “Think you can handle this, sweet thing?”

“Something tells me you’ll make it fit.”

“You got that right,” he laughs. “Now come sit on my face, wanna taste that pretty pussy.”

There’s something so suave about half-baked Johnny. He speaks with an almost melodic tone, it’s deep and sensual, and your pussy throbs just from the words coming out of his mouth.

As you crawl onto the bed, getting into position, his hands are careful against your form, helping you settle as you swing a thigh over his head, hovering your core over his mouth. Instead of waiting for you to sit down, Johnny lifts himself up a little, burying his face in your pussy before you can even touch his cock.

“Fuck-” you whimper, grabbing the base of his length as he pushes his tongue deep inside of you, licking the length of your slit.

You would love nothing more than to enjoy his mouth on you for hours- but you have your own job to do, and you’re already drooling. You bring his mushroom tip to your lips, gently licking at him.

Johnny’s large hands find your ass, and he squeezes you gently. “No teasing,” he mumbles, and the vibration against your clit has you squirming down on his face.

You take him into your mouth, sucking on the tip and twirling your tongue. Johnny immediately releases a groan before diving back into your pussy. He grabs your hips pulling you down tighter against his face.

It’s hard to know what to focus on. He feels so good with his mouth worshiping your pussy, but at the same time, you’re kind of obsessed with sucking his cock. He’s so huge, and you want to see how much you can take. You sink further onto his length, feeling your lips stretch at the intrusion-

God, he’s going to absolutely wreck your pussy. You can’t even fit half of him in your mouth before he’s hitting the back of your throat, and as you constrict around him, he releases lewd sounds of pleasure that have your core practically throbbing with need.

You pull off of him, if only to collect your saliva as lube so you can stroke what your mouth can’t reach. Taking a breath and steadying yourself, you grind gently against his tongue, moaning loudly. Then you take him past your lips again, getting lost in the act of simultaneous giving and receiving.

You’re lost in him, so lost that you don’t even know how long you’ve been in this position- but you can feel an orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach every time Johnny focuses on your clit.

You find yourself grinding harder against his face, and as the feeling builds, you can’t help but pull off of his cock, gasping and moaning. “Fuck, Johnny, I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me,” he groans, squeezing your ass as he kitten licks your clit. “Don’t hold back. Cum on my face, sweet thing, give me everything.”

You’re stroking his cock mindlessly, your muscles tensing as Johnny takes your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking-

“Oh my God-” you whimper, toes curling-

Your orgasm washes over you like a wave. It tingles through every inch of your being, throbbing out from your core. You and Johnny both release groans of satisfaction, and the knowledge that he’s enjoying having you cum on his face only makes your pussy clench tighter.

You’re practically riding his tongue now, chasing the last inklings of your high until you’re absolutely breathless.

Johnny presses one last kiss to your clit, and then he’s tapping your ass gently. “Gonna roll onto your back and let me fuck you like the good girl you are?”

“God, yes,” you groan. Your legs are shaky but you get off of Johnny’s face, collapsing next to him.

“Damn, sweet thing, that was a good one, huh?” Johnny laughs, sitting up and stroking your thigh.

“So good,” you whimper, still feeling the aftershocks.

Johnny gets between your legs, elbow pressing into the bed next to your head as he dips close to kiss your neck. “The way you were grinding against my face was so fucking hot.”

“Johnny-” You wrap your legs around him, feeling absolutely desperate for his cock.

“You’ll have to be a little patient for me, sweet thing,” Johnny sighs, one large hand cupping your breast and teasing past your nipple. “I’ve gotta stretch you out before you can take me.”

“What if I want you now?”

“Like I said,” his breath is hot against your throat, “you’ll have to be patient.”

“What if I want you to wreck me?”

Johnny laughs, pulling away to look at you. “You’re not as innocent as you look, are you, angel?”

You trace your fingers along the fine line, black and white, Japanese Oni mask tattoo that sits on his chest between his defined pectoral muscles. “Not when it comes to you.”

The plug simply grins at your words, his hand trailing down until it reaches your core. Two thick fingers prod at your opening, and you spread your legs even wider to accommodate him. He teasingly dips the first digit inside of you and you release a moan at how good it feels, but he’s quick to pull it out and circle your clit.

“You know what you said earlier?”

He lets out a humming sound.

“About not teasing?” you correct. “If you’re making me wait for you to prep me, you better not take your sweet time with it.”

“You’ll have to let me take my time with you next time then.”

“Next time?” You cock a brow.

“Yeah,” Johnny ghosts his lips over your own. “Next time.”

“Deal, now finger fuck me open then give me your cock.”

“Jesus, I love it when you talk dirty,” Johnny groans, dipping his finger into your core again. “Tell me more.”

“You just feel so fucking good,” you groan, swiveling your hips. “Even one finger- you’re just so big- Johnny, how are you so big?”

“You haven’t really experienced the Big yet,” John points out, adding a second digit that he scissors inside of you, stretching you out for him.

In response, you reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him gently. “I’m gonna feel you inside me for days after this.”

“Especially if you let me fuck you tomorrow, and the day after- you could feel me forever if you wanted to.”

“Forever, huh?” You let out a whimper as his digits work harder inside of you, crooking up to stroke your g spot with shocking precision.

“I’m still a little high, it’s making me… too honest.”

“I like honest,” you admit, cupping his face with your free hand, drawing his lips to yours. “I like you.”

“I like you too,” he whispers, kissing you deeper as he finger fucks you faster. “Okay, sweet thing, I think you’re just about ready for me- dripping all over my hand.”

“I’m ready,” you assure him, staring into those beautiful chocolate-brown eyes.

“Should I grab a condom?”

“Are you clean?”

“Yeah. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t fuck around that often. I’m not a one-night stand kind of guy.”

You giggle. “I’ve sort of noticed that.”

He kisses you again. “I can still grab a condom though.”

“No, I’m on birth control. I want you to fill me up with cock and cum until it’s all I can think about.”

“I can do that.” Johnny pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and before he can lick them clean, you grab his wrist and guide them to your own mouth. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot, angel.”

You groan around his digits, sucking them clean. When you’re done, Johnny grabs your jaw, drawing your lips to his so he can taste you, his tongue gliding against your own.

You’ve still got his cock in your hand, and you pump him gently, adjusting against the blanket to get closer to him so you can guide his tip toward your core.

Johnny takes the hint, and he breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. His gaze dips to where your bodies meet, and he allows you most of the control as you drag his cock through your folds. “You really want this?”

“Just fuck me, John. Please don’t make me beg.”

He pushes forward, the tip of his cock sheathing in your tight core. “Holy shit,” Johnny groans.

“More.”

Johnny can only laugh, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours as he thrusts deeper into you. The two of you hold your breath as inch after inch stretches you open. You’re so wet, and it makes the process easier, but you can still feel Johnny everywhere.

You’re a wriggling, moaning mess by the time he’s fully inside of you.

Johnny’s breath is hot against your skin, and his chest is rising and falling with effort, his bicep bulging next to your head. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly.

“Can I-”

“Rail me. Break my back. Murder my pussy.”

Johnny laughs, pressing his lips to yours to shut you up as he begins to move his hips, pulling out only to thrust back in. You can feel your insides practically quivering with each drag of his length against your walls. He’s so big, and you’re stretched to the brink- the vein along the underside of his cock is an added stimulus that has your toes curling already.

You’ll never be the same after this.

No one’s cock is ever going to compare and you just know it.

Johnny’s lips can’t muffle the sounds of pleasure still escaping you, and you grab at his broad shoulders, tracing your nails against his skin.

It’s so easy to get lost in Johnny. He makes you feel safe, and the pleasure he’s giving you has time flying by like nothing else. Johnny’s mouth goes to your throat, teasing the spot that has you moaning even louder.

“Can I flip you over? Wanna see that ass.”

“Do anything you want with me,” you tell him, and you mean it.

With one last kiss, Johnny pulls out of you. His large hands find your hips. He manhandles you over, pulling your ass back and up so he can push into you again.

“Fuck,” you groan, grabbing at the bed sheets. “You’re even deeper like this-”

Each time his front meets your ass, the slapping sound turns you on even more. He’s practically rearranging your guts like this, and you don’t mind it one bit.

“Do you wanna rub your clit for me, sweet thing?” Johnny asks. “You’re so fucking tight around me, and I’m so sensitive when I smoke- not sure I’ll be able to last long, and I want you to cum with me. Wanna feel this pretty pussy all clenched and dripping-”

Every word has your body tingling, and you bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles.

“Johnny-” you whimper.

“That’s it, angel. You feel so fucking good- so fucking good for me.” He grabs fistfuls of your ass, squeezing in a way that has you crying out. “Who’s my good girl?”

“Me!”

“Who’s taking this cock so fucking good?”

“Me!”

“Fuck-” Johnny lets go of your ass, wrapping a hand around your throat. He helps lift you up until your back is curved, shoulders pressed to his chest. His lips find your neck, hand dipping down to grasp your breast roughly, pinching your nipple.

“I’m gonna-”

“I know, sweet thing, me too-” He’s fucking into you like a god damned fuck machine, and each circle of your fingers on your clit has you closer and closer to the edge- “Fuck, okay, I’m there- shit, yeah, I’m there- you’re gonna cum with me, right? Gonna cum on my cock and let me fill you up?”

All you can do is whimper, your body fulfilling his ask before your brain can even fully process it. Your core clamps down hard on his cock, and Johnny releases a deep groan in your ear. He holds you close, squeezing you as his thrusts get erratic.

You can feel him cumming deep inside of you, and you’ve never felt this cock drunk in your life.

Nothing matters except Johnny and his huge cock filling you up to the brink. His lips are hot on your throat, and he fucks you through your highs, your pussy fluttering around him as wave upon wave of pleasure rocks through you.

As you both finish, he pushes himself fully inside of you. You can feel his cock throbbing, and his groans are music to your ears.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispers, letting out a soft laugh as he nuzzles against your cheek.

“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day,” you giggle, grabbing the hand on your breast and lifting it to your lips so you can kiss his palm.

He holds you for a few more moments, then he gently lowers you to the bed, cock still inside of you. “I’m gonna pull out,” he says, smoothing a hand over your ass. “You don’t mind if I watch it drip out of you for a second, right?”

“I’m just laying here,” you smile against the quilt.

Even so, it feels like a loss as he takes his cock out of your aching pussy. His hands are on your ass and he spreads your cheeks. “Fuck, sweet thing. This is the prettiest view in the whole fucking world.”

When you’d texted Johnny earlier for a link-up, you’d never expected this. Never expected to see this softer side of him.

You’re so fucking happy you reached out- he provided more than what you’d asked for.

“I busted a fat load in you, angel,” Johnny laughs, his thumb moving to rub your clit, causing you to whine and push back against him. “How about we go for a shower. I can wash you up, eat you out some more-”

“Damn, Johnny, are you pussy drunk?”

“Uh huh.” He leans over you, kissing up your spine and to your shoulder. “Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet, we should make the most out of it, right?”

You get the sneaking suspicion that you’re going to be making the most out of it with Johnny for many days to come, Valentine’s Day be damned. God. Your cousin is going to have a freak when she hears about this.

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I know it's late by three days but this John still has me in the Valentine's Day spirit

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🔮 preview. “You’ll like this. You always like this. You love cumming on my cock. But you don’t get my cum unless I get yours, that’s the deal, right?”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, grinding on his thigh, hand job, oral (m receiving) blow job, he spits in y/n’s mouth, spit as lube, masturbation, y/n touches herself while blowing Johnny, fingering masturbation, y/n rides his cock, multiple reader orgasms, praise, gentle degradation, dirty talk, breast worship/tit sucking, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel, sweet thing, good girl.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

You’ve gotten accustomed to your plug boyfriend. You’d only been dating for a month when he’d officially asked you to be his, but you know the two of you were exclusive to each other since that very first night you’d fucked.

Being with John is pretty easy- but his odd work schedule can be a bit of a pain. He never knows how busy he’s going to be, so you can plan date nights, but sometimes he has to push it back a few hours to do unexpected late-night deliveries.

If you’d been cock drunk for him after the first time he’d fucked you, you’re even more dependent on him now.

No drug in the world could fill you up and give you the pleasure that Johnny’s cock does, and you’ve become a little impatient when you have to wait for him to complete deliveries… although, you’d never bring it up with him

You know being a plug is his job. It’s what pays the bills and allows him to dote on you in ways you’d scarcely been able to imagine before meeting him.

Even so, you can feel your skin crawling, pussy practically aching with anticipation as he completes the last handful of orders for the night. He’d initially wanted to be over at your place by seven, but it’s nearly ten now, and you’re three hours behind on the fuck marathon you’d planned.

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2K notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 1 month

Text

How they’d react to you not kissing/hugging him before leaving for a mission…

Dick acts as though you told him his ass isn’t that fat in his spandex suit-

He’s insulted.

You always, always remember to kiss his cheek before he leaves. His ‘good luck, be safe and kick ass’ cheek kiss!

It’s your thing as a couple! Do you want to see him cry because he fucking will! He’ll do it!

Dick will pout, huff and whine loud as possible in hopes that you’d realise your error and rectify it tenfold. He won’t tell you what’s wrong. No, he wants and expects you to figure it out for yourself, which doesn’t get him anywhere when you’re looking at him confused and lost as to what he was whining about; Literally.

His mood will be down for the entirety of the day and you’ll no doubt have texts from his teammates and family members asking what was wrong with Dick to look so down.

You’re just as confused as them seeing as how Dick didn’t disclose his innermost thoughts and feelings to you despite being his partner, so you were at a loss on how to help them with something even you weren’t privy to knowing…it’s probably one of your biggest issues as a couple but that’s for another time.

Dick will do that pathetic thing where he looks back at you expectantly the closer he gets towards the door, even going so far as to walk extremely slow when he was within reaching distance of the door handle as to buy you enough time to notice before he genuinely had to leave.

When you don’t however, Dick acts like a kicked puppy for the rest of the day and will proceed to exaggerate to anyone with ears about how his lover was restricting him of his affection.

On the other hand, If you do manage to remember to give him a good luck kiss, planting an extra one on his other cheek for extra, extra luck. Dick will have a permanent smile on his face that will not go the fuck away, even when he’s beating someone’s ass, the smile remains glued on his face as though with gorilla glue.

Seeing Dick brutally beat someone’s ass with a smile was horrifying for anyone to witness but it’s okay bc he’s happy that you remembered to kiss him good luck.

Jason will immediately call you out on your bullshit.

And by that I mean cross his arms over his chest and stare at you saying. ‘Well?’

And you’re like: ‘well what?’

And he’s like: ‘where’s my good luck kiss that you owe me? Roy is waiting on me and here I am waiting on my kiss, so give me my kiss chipmunk.’

Jason doesn’t piss about and gets to the meat of the issue at hand. He wants his good luck kisses and he wants them now and he will not leave the apartment until he gets them.

You’d raise a brow at his not so subtle neediness for your affection and decided to tease him. ‘I thought you didn’t need my good luck kisses remember? You’re a big boy who can fight with or without my good luck kisses.’

Jason groans, not expecting you to pull that out. ‘I said that one time. One time and I was being a dick back then too because all you wanted to do was show me that you cared about me and didn’t want me to get hurt.’

You smiled and got up from the couch and walked over to him, resting your hands on his biceps. ‘So now that you admit that you were a dick and the way that you acted was wrong…’ you trailed off as you pressed a kiss to his lips once, twice, three times because you loved to kiss Jason whenever possible and will try to plant as many kisses as you could.

‘Thanks chipmunk.’ Jason murmurs against your lips, feeling everything has gone back to being right again. ‘Now I better be off or Roy will tease me for lingering too long-‘

‘Too late.’ Roy said from the doorway and Jason closed his eyes and silently curse while you smiled and waved at Roy. ‘Hi Roy!’ You said. ‘Hi y/n, mind letting Jason come out to play?’ Roy joked. You played along by making a thoughtful face as Jason mutters under his breath; ‘are you being serious right now?’

You snapped your fingers. ‘As long as you make sure Jason doesn’t get into trouble then yes, he may go out and play.’

‘I hate you both.’ Jason groaned as he walked past you and playfully shoved Roy aside to leave the apartment. Roy then cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted after him. ‘Are you sure you don’t want your goodbye kisses?’ You and Roy laugh together upon hearing Jason cursing him out from a distance.

Damian acts indifferent about it.

He doesn’t need a good luck hug, hell! he doesn’t need luck at all!

He’s skilled enough to win any fight without relying on something silly as Luck. Luck was just probability under a different name and definition. (A/n: Don’t quote me on that.)

So when you forget to give him a hug before a mission, Damian doesn’t think anything of it but it will linger in his mind unnecessarily much to his annoyance.

Why was he so hung up on not getting something a silly as a hug? Or was he instead more upset over the fact that you, his closest friend/partner, completely forgot about it as though it wasn’t anything worth remembering.

Either way he was conflicted and didn’t know how to go about saying any of this to you without getting frustrated over his apparent loss for words. He was a man of action more then anything so when he finally catches up to you, he will stride towards you and stop just a couple of inches and silently stare at you with his resting bitch face.

‘Damian?’ You asked. ‘Are you okay?’

Damian doesn’t say anything because he couldn’t think of anything to say in that moment and instead stays silent as to save himself from further embarrassment.

‘Damian?’ You asked again, getting worried over his unusual silence. ‘I can’t help you if you don’t tell me-‘ before you could finish your sentence, Damian had lunged towards you and brought you into a very tight hug. You smile softly and gladly hugged Damian back, not saying a single word other then;

‘You don’t need me to say it but I’ll reaffirm it anyway, you’ll do great out there Dami. I know you will.’

2K notes · View notes

simpjaes · 4 months

Text

paid in & paid off

Jay made the mistake of paying his best friend to date you, it was a big mistake. He only did it to get you away from a different man who wasn’t treating you right, and because he couldn’t do it himself. The fact that his best friend breaks the rules and decides to catch feelings drives him up a fucking wall. Why? Because Jake should know better than to go as far as sleeping with his girl, or rather...erm, his step-sister.

៸៸៸ sim jake x afab reader | park jongseong x afab reader

៸៸៸ minors dni

៸៸៸ wordcount: 30k

៸៸៸ genre: college break au, summer setting , smut, stepcest

៸៸៸ content tags: angst, smut, fluff, more dominant jay, inexperienced jake, infidelity(?), jealous and possessive behavior, risky sex, jay is mean, jake is a total loser posing as a dude who knows how to pick up girls. reader has hair that can be grabbed and pulled during smut scenes.

៸៸៸ !WARNINGS!: dub-con, step-cest, jay is a narcissist, manipulation, possessive behavior, use of degrading names such as: dumb, stupid, whore, and slut. i am not responsible for your inability to consume the right content for you.

៸៸៸ side characters: sunghoon as your ex boyfriend, heeseung as your ex boyfriend’s best friend

៸៸៸ a/n: thank u for 1k followers <3 lets just call this one a late new years gift and a thank u for indulging me! btw, this isn’t edited!

៸៸៸ nsfw tags under cut

៸៸៸ nsfw tags: jake is a boob guy, big dick jake, thick dick jay, degradation, finger fucking, doggy style, mating press, unprotected sex, hair pulling, pussy eating, crying, being pinned down, but also!!!, soft and passionate fucking, riding, marking out, blowjob/deepthroating

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jay knew his dad was quick to love, but quick to marry wasn’t really something he was expecting. It took the span of a single semester for him to not only learn that his father had a new girlfriend, but that he was eloping with her, meaning, Jay would be coming home for the summer to an entirely different home life.

He knew nothing of this woman and barely even knew what her name was but it’s not that big of a deal to him, considering he’s out of the house anyway save for holidays and summer breaks. It’s not like he’s going to have to deal with it too often. Afterall, he’s an adult, and so is his father. If anything, the man deserves to feel some love after sending Jay away to one of the best colleges around. Why does it matter that the marriage happened so quickly?

It doesn’t.

It’s much the same for you, if not the exact same thought process on the way your mother calls you and dotes on her new husband as if she’s one of your best friends calling you after a hook-up. You’re even a bit excited to head home once finals are over to see your much-missed mother and her new husband.

Your mother is more detailed in her descriptions of the new life though. Her husband is tall, he’s handsome, he has money, he has a son with the highest GPA on his campus. You weren’t too inclined to process the information at the time though, considering she had called you dead in the middle of crunch time for finals.

All you know is, your mother is happy and you’re happy for her.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Why the fuck are you here?” Jay asks upon returning home and walking through the front door.

The first thing he noted was that there is a girl sitting on his father’s couch, and she’s far too young to be his new wife. Upon her turning to face him, presumably to see who is walking into the house, he notes that it’s you.

“No fucking way.” You start, standing up and brushing off your legs of imaginary dust. “You’re the son my mom mentioned?”

Jay looks at you with a bit of shock unable to be hidden within his expression.

“I have a fucking sister? And it’s you, of all people?” Jay huffs in an annoyed way, ultimately because, what kind of shitty luck in life is he set up for?

The only reason this is his reaction is because, well, the two of you have history. Kind of. To him, at least, probably not to you.

He remembers the first time he ever saw you, bright eyed and bushy tailed during his freshman year on campus. He thought you were pretty, but it’s not like that thought would go anywhere further. It’s the fact that he found everyone beautiful on campus, solely because he knew he must have been surrounded by people as smart as he is, or perhaps as well off financially as his father is.

The day he decided that you’re really pretty was during a gen ed class that year. A class that he really could have done with his eyes closed if he’s being honest, but still, his eyes stayed open due to being paired with you for a simple single-class project. Where the two of you were to separate from the other pairs and come up with some sort of argument on a whim regarding a given topic.

You were great at arguing, even better than him perhaps.

And from that moment forward, he noticed you more and more through the semesters as you grew as students, despite only having one other class together during that time.

He noted during that single other class period he shared with you some year and a half into his educational journey that you were one of the only students who didn’t boast about their GPA, which led him to believe you’re probably a little bit dumber than the other students.

He also noted that you’d hang around the hockey team a lot as time went on, specifically Sunghoon and his friend Heeseung. Those two were rowdy, loud, and always threw the best parties. Or so he’s heard, it’s not like Jay ever showed up to them or anything. His GPA was far too important to not prioritize.

Eventually, he’d end up noting that you would always be all over Sunghoon. A clear indication that he should keep his eyes to himself, especially with the way Sunghoon would occasionally make eye contact with him after eying his presumed girlfriend for too long.

Dating Sunghoon though? Yeah, you’re probably a little more than a little bit dumb.

Still, it was just a little college crush that would never turn into anything further. He didn’t need more than the ability to glance at you from time to time and remember how well you argued in that first semester of college. After all, there are tons of other pretty girls on campus too, some that are also probably far more intelligent and not wasting their time on the meat-heads that barely keep their GPA up enough to attend the school.

That’s why he’s shocked to walk into his father’s house, happy to be home, to find none other than you sitting on that couch.

And now you’re standing up, facing him, and looking at him for probably the first time in several semesters. He’s actually a little shocked that you remember him at all.

“Did–” You pause, looking at him confused. “Did your dad not tell you?”

Jay slowly shakes his head, dropping his bag and slipping off his shoes.

“Probably didn’t think it was too important.” He finally says, shrugging and stretching his arms out above his head after the long drive.

“It’s pretty important, actually.” You laugh awkwardly, having just gotten to your new home yourself, waiting for your mother to come out of her shower. “This is fucking awkward.”

Jay nods and then walks past you.

“Hey wait, where are you going?” You ask, confused by the atmosphere in the room.

“To my room?” He says back in a sarcastic tone, internally conflicted over the fact that his father forced him into crush-hood with someone he is now related to by marriage.

Still, that’s something he will keep to himself. After all, it was just a small crush that never went away due to not having a reason to stop thinking you’re pretty.

He has a reason now, and he’s still happy to be home despite the awkwardness that’s now living beside him. If anything, he can fill his free time with his old friends rather than becoming friends with you. And he does, entering his room, locking it, and immediately sending a text to his long-time friend that he hasn’t seen since last summer.

Speaking of said long-time friend. Jake grew up down the street from Jay and as expected, chose to stay home with his family rather than travel for college. He loved them too much to leave them, plus the college here was good. Not as good as the one Jay goes to, but still a great accomplishment nonetheless.

Jake has a perfect GPA, a perfect family, perfect hair, and a very imperfect way of living up to his own accomplishments.

For instance, not going with Jay to university despite having a high chance of making it in. He didn’t even try, didn’t even fucking consider it. Jake is the type who is both entirely lost in the world and one hundred percent okay with it. He doesn’t know who he is, who he wants to be, or what to do about it outside of following the general rules of life.

Be born, learn to talk, learn to walk, go to school, go to college, work, die.

Still, he is Jay’s best friend, which is why he is the first person he texts upon returning home.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The first dinner with your new family felt strange at best. You have a brother figure now, a father figure, and your mother is smiling for reasons that aren’t you or her new favorite show on tv. It’s both nice and insanely weird to experience sitting at a dinner table with more than just yourself.

Things were always casual with your mother. Dinner is whenever, eat wherever. But as you look at her, you see her trying to fill a role for the handsome man she’s now married to. You don’t dislike the guy but as her daughter, who she raised almost entirely on her own, you’re cautious about him.

And looking at Jay? It’s a little bit strange for you. He was so quiet on campus, which is a stark contrast to his loud and vibrant father. The two of them are still alike in some way when it comes to their ice cold stare that can’t be as icy as it appears.

You remember working with Jay maybe once or twice throughout your semesters, and he was very well spoken. To the point that it almost felt as if you were working directly with a professor rather than a college student. He was clean back then, and somewhat brooding in his own way. It still rings true today if you remind yourself of his attitude upon meeting you in the living room.

“Jongseong,” His father clears his throat with his son’s name, a smile forming as he places his cutlery to the side. “How did your finals go?”

Jay perks up at the ability to talk about himself and his accomplishments as he looks to your mother. He smiles at her, and you can’t help but think he’s putting on some sort of act. He never smiled too often when you did see him.

You snort.

“Jongseong?” You say, laughing at the way his father is so formal. “I thought your name was Jay?”

Jay was mid-sentence when you so rudely interrupted him and his shiny GPA, as he shot his head to you.

“Okay,” He says shortly. “What’s your GPA then?”

His father and your mother share a quick glance at each other, seemingly worried that the two of you appear to already be acting like siblings that do not get along.

“Pfft,” You snort, rolling your eyes. “My GPA is just fine, Jongseong.”

You’re just kidding around, but you can’t help but press when you note his, almost immediate, annoyance. Which to you is a bit too uptight if you’re being honest.

“So what is it then?” He glares, huffing out through his nose. “Because mine is a weighted 4.7.”

It’s the fact that you already hate that he’s challenging you. You had no idea that his GPA was so high already, revealing that he must take extra honors classes and advanced courses by this point. Probably making straight A’s in most of them, if not all of them.

You swallow around your spoon, your cheeky smirk falling almost instantly.

“Point taken.” You roll your eyes.

“What is your GPA?” He asks again with a smug smile.

“I told you, my GPA is fine.” You argue.

Jay thinks you must have fallen off of your ability to argue, because you’re really not putting up a fight like you did during that first semester.

“Doesn’t seem fine.” He laughs, grabbing his cup and glaring at you from over it. “Probably just hiding that you’re failing, just like that boyfriend of yours.”

You pause, actually mad now.

“Excuse me?” You stare at him, dropping your spoon and clenching your fist.

“Jongseong!” His father raises his voice at the family mishap, taking your mother’s hand on top of the table.

Both you and Jay shoot your heads to him.

“That is your sister, don’t be rude.” His father says in a booming voice, reminding Jay that he can’t be petty like this to you.

Despite wanting to. Mad that he still thinks you’re pretty even with the new discovery, even more mad that he enjoyed pushing your buttons just now.

What’s worse is the way he glances at you and sees you snicker at his scolding before flinching as if your mother kicked you from under the table.

He grimaces at the situation, at you, and then smiles at his father.

“Sorry,” He says, scratching his forehead before grabbing his cup again. “Would have been nice to know I was coming home to a sister though.”

His dad’s eyes widened before narrowing at his son, annoyed that his own flesh and blood is acting like such a child over this matter.

“Jongseong–” He warns, and then your mother is speaking up.

“Wait, you didn’t even tell him that I have a daughter?”

The apologetic look that takes over your new step-father’s face is interesting because, honestly, it is a weighted question. You’d like to know why he didn’t tell Jay too, then again, maybe it wasn’t intentional.

With that, you watch as Jay stands up and leaves the kitchen, leaving his plate there presumably for someone else to clean and can’t help but do the same.

You can see that familiar look of hurt on your mother’s face and feel it best that you sink away into your own room, which still needs to be set up and rearranged anyway.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A week and a half since you’ve been to your new home, a week and a half of awkward family dinners, a week and a half of being shunned by your new step brother, and a week and a half of your boyfriend not texting you back.

Safe to say, this summer is starting off on the wrong foot for you and you’re already wanting it to be over so that you can at least focus on schoolwork, rather than the fact that it feels like everyone on this earth must hate you.

You sit in your room once again after an awkward dinner, hearing your mother and Jay’s father talk quietly in the living room about being in love or something, you’re not sure, you don’t really care.

At this point, being here rather than your mother’s old house just makes it worse. None of your friends are close enough to just up and visit you, Sunghoon certainly isn’t going to come un-bore you, and it appears that the only form of entertainment you can focus on is your own self-doubt at this moment.

Why not go hang out with Jay? At least pushing his buttons would be more fun than wallowing in boredom and self-pity. Surely it would be more fun, surely he’d probably have some fun too, since he seems so fond of pissing you off already.

Up you go, onto your socked feet as you head for the door and just across the hallway to his cracked door.

You don’t even knock before stepping inside as if it’s your own room.

You note that he jumps, startled at your presence. That split second of seeing him before, from behind, it seemed like he was quite focused on his pc, but his little surprised jump leads you to believe he was a bit too focused on it.

“Sup bro,” You smile, flopping down on his bed in a grand entrance. “Watching porn?”

Jay rolls his eyes, closing out his tabs because, well, he was gonna but hadn’t yet opened the website or closed his door.

“Why are you in my room?” He asks, not turning to face you yet.

“I’m bored.” You admit, eyes looking at how messy his bedroom is. Posters on the wall, clothes thrown all around, abandoned dumbbells lying in the corner.

If anything, you’re a little shocked that Jay is so messy. He appeared so clean cut and well-put together back before you were forced into close proximity with him, his room is a huge mismatch in your head right now. Like, wow, he has personality? His clothes aren’t all boring tones of white, beige, and gray? He likes music? Arguably pretty decent music if the posters are anything to go by.

“Your room is disgusting.”

“Then leave.”

You pause, sitting yourself up and staring at the back of his head.

“Why are you so fucking rude?” You ask, glaring a hole through the mess of hair on his head.

“Because you’re incapable of having an intelligent discussion and still try to talk to me.”

God, he’s so robotic when he speaks to you, it’s so disheartening. So emotionless, so boring.

“Jongseong.” You say, mostly to try and elicit some type of emotion out of him.

He swivels his chair around to look at you, just as annoyed as you expected him to be.

“Stop calling me that.” He warns, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes. “Why are you bothering me right now?”

You shrug, eyes looking up and around his cluttered room again before sighing.

“I’m bored,” You try to say nonchalantly. “And lonely now that my mom is too busy with your dad.”

Jay tilts his head at you in curiosity, almost seeming interested in your issues before smirking.

“Yeah, well,” He chuckles, turning back to his computer. “What makes you think I’m not busy?”

You stand to your feet, huffing in defeat.

“Listen,” You say, nearly tripping on a neglected shirt on the ground and grabbing his chair to force him to turn around. You see that it’s annoying him, which is great. “We should at least try to get along.”

Jay stays silent, looking past you and to his skewed bedroom door before sighing.

“So, I guess you’re not as stupid as you seem then?” He offers, looking up at you from his chair with a stupid smirk on his face. Seemingly proud of how much he intends to talk his shit at you. “Smartest thing i’ve ever heard you say.”

God, he’s so fucking annoying. Why does he act like that? So pompous with such an ego. Which is really pathetic when you think about it and all of the times you never once noticed him on campus. Sure, there were a few times that you did, but what gives him the right to act so high and mighty? No one even knows who he is save for the professors who deal with his constant ass kissing.

“It’s embarrassing for you to think that your high GPA is all that's worthy of a person. You’re so stuck up, you know that, Jongseong?” You argue immediately, backing away and sitting right back on his bed. “It’s no wonder you’re such an asshole, you should go get your dick sucked or something because this is ridiculous.”

Jay pauses.

“I’ve had my dick sucked plenty.” He laughs, because he’s not lying. “Still, sex doesn’t make me that dumb.”

The way he looks down on you is demeaning and offensive, if you’re being honest. And somehow, you’re shocked by those words, like entirely floored that he’d even say such a thing to you. You told him to get his dick sucked to loosen up that up-tight shitty personality, not because you wanted to fucking know that he’s not the virgin he parades around looking like.

Still, you’re floored that he’s focusing on that single aspect of your comment. Simmering on it, insulting you for having sex. Calling you cock-stupid basically.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You think half the school doesn’t see you practically ride Sunghoon in the hallways?” He rolls his eyes.

“Maybe you’d have a brain in that little head of yours if you weren’t too busy letting him fuck it out of you.”

You lean back in disgust at him, reminding yourself that not even Sunghoon wants to talk to you right now. Sad that he’s almost right about it. Sunghoon does fuck you stupid, and you probably are fairly obvious about it considering there have been more times than you can count that he’s been just as hot and bothered mid-class day with you.

That doesn’t matter now though, considering he won’t fucking text you back.

“Well, maybe you’d feel better knowing that I’m about to break up with him.” You huff. “Again. So maybe then, you’ll stop basing my entire existence on the fact that I get fucked like any normal person.”

Jay stops for a moment, seemingly pleased with what you just said.

“Hmm,” He hums out, looking at you with a less annoyed gaze. “Maybe he hasn’t rendered you completely incompetent then.”

And with that, you’re done. You stand to your feet with a scoff and immediately head for his door. Only to bring Jay’s attention further to you. He presses your buttons on purpose, of course, but it’s fun for him. It’s not like you weren’t doing the same thing. He really thought you’d at least fight him a little more in this argument, and he finds himself confused as to why you’re actually offended.

Soft, gullible, and stupid?

“Wait, hold on.” Jay says, noting the way you stop. “What did he do?”

Of course he’s nosy, of course he wants the details, you think. And of course you’re going to stay and give them to him considering your mother is too wrapped up with someone else to hear about your relationship problems anyway.

“I don’t know.” You give in immediately, prancing back on his bed as if you’re in a girl’s room and hugging one of his pillows. Which, mind you, somehow smells good despite the room looking like it should smell like dried sweat and cum. You’re pleased with the aroma as you breathe in to continue. “He hasn’t texted me back since the last day of class, and I already know what that means.”

Jay leans forward in interest, for the first time listening to you rather than complaining about you. If anything, he’s invested in the break up solely because his past-self did find himself a little jealous that you wasted your time on such a man.

“What does it mean, then?” He asks.

“He’s probably with that girl he was with last summer.” You admit, voice cracking only a little bit. “He promised he wouldn’t but this would be the third time if it’s true.”

Jay was going to say something, but you cut him off.

“I broke up with him last summer too, and just a few days before the semester started he called me and begged for me to take him back. Something about how it won’t happen again this time, that he promises he will block her for good, and that he’s sorry.”

Man, you are dumb. Which is a shame, because even for someone like you he doesn’t think that’s very fair. He knew Sunghoon was an asshole by his appearance alone, but like, cheating? On someone that’s as hot as you? With a body like yours? Really?

“Huh.” He says, pinching the sides of his chin as he thinks.

“Last time, he didn’t even respond when I broke up with him. I was finally feeling better when he decided to come back.”

“Then, just don’t let him this time?”

You sit for a moment, thinking about if you’d have the ability to actually stay away from Sunghoon. He’s hot, and good fucking lord is he good at pleasuring you. Part of you was okay with the kind of, like, fling thing you had going on with him. The first two times he ignored you for someone else hurt, but you’re not hurting as much now.

You’re just annoyed now, because if Sunghoon would just be honest, maybe the two of you could work out something. How come he is rendered single during the summer but you’re not? After all, if you so much as mention another guy to him he gets mad. Hell, he even argued with Heeseung in front of you simply for hugging you around the waist rather than over the shoulders.

“You know,” You start, trying to come up with some sort of solution. “I always think I won’t, but he always says the right things to make me believe him, even just in the moment.” You pause to take a breath in. “Things are so good during the semester, then he’s just gone when we are away.”

Jay thinks hard about this, and even harder about the crush he had on you previously, knowing that it’s still there despite trying to pretend it isn't. Knowing that he’s glad you and Sunghoon are in this back and forth. He’s happy you’re going to leave him, and not entirely because he’s cheating on you.

It’s partially because he doesn’t want to have to look at you with him. As wrong as that is. It didn’t hurt too bad before he knew you. After all, you were just a pretty girl to look at. But now? Seeing you around the house? Knowing your daily routine? Forced to be close to you and loving it despite pretending he hates it?

It’s sad, really, that Jay immediately became more interested in you the moment he knew it was not only against the rules, but morally wrong. Still, ss dumb as you are, he knows he’d treat you right.

And you know, if he could, he would. He would try and swoop in considering he’s around you during your breaks and has the full ability to be there on campus as well, unlike Sunghoon. Never would either of you have to be apart from each other.

There are several issues with this though. Obviously. And he has to keep reminding himself each time he thinks about it. He doesn’t fucking see you as his step-sister. You’re still just that pretty girl with the pretty lips, who wastes her body on men who don’t want her. You’re not his type at all, and yet? You’re entirely the girl of his dreams.

Logically, he clearly isn’t your type either, if Sunghoon is anything to go by.

By marriage, he is now your brother. By marriage, he is now barred from openly glancing at you and your body. By fucking marriage, Jay is forced into a guilty mindset of wanting to disobey every moral direction in his head involving you.

The good news? By marriage, he is now obligated to protect you as your brother. So, is it really a taboo that he’s happy to see you think about leaving Sunghoon? Of course it isn’t.

And he’s gonna keep telling himself that.

“Then maybe, since you’re away from him and he’s out doing his thing, you should–” He internally panics for a second, knowing he’s talking too quickly to stop himself. “Maybe you should go out and have some fun too.”

He immediately regrets it upon saying it. Why the fuck would he insinuate you should go out and fuck more dudes who would probably treat you just like Sunghoon does? He has to think fast, and he has to think now.

You watch him, amazed by the fact that he isn’t arguing with you. He’s actually helping you, and offering some pretty solid advice.

“Like, I should just cheat on him?” You stare.

“Well, no. You’re breaking up with him, aren’t you?” He continues, tuning out to what you’re saying and tuning in to his head in order to figure out how to bar you from actually heeding the advice.

You take a moment before nodding, it’s not like this would be anything new to Sunghoon anyway.

“I’m sure you’ll meet someone here that’ll be better.” He finally adds to his advice, entirely half-assing it because you’d better not. Unless that person is him. “Perhaps you wouldn’t want Sunghoon back by the time fall semester starts.”

And with that confirmation, you smile at him.

“Aw,” You say snidely. “Look at us, getting along and shit.”

He stares forward, narrows his eyes just like before, and then turns back to his PC.

“Now get out.”

And for the first time, you don’t argue. Feeling a little better about joining his family now.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“A hundred dollars a month.” Jay emphasizes in a hushed tone to Jake. “Just hear me out, she’s hot.”

“Jay, that’s your sister.”

“Okay? Are you going to do it or not?”

“Make it two hundred.” Jake counters, leaning close and staring his best friend in the face. “I gotta say, it’s a little weird that you’re paying me to do this. I’m only just finding out you have a sister, dude.”

Jay keeps his face calm, trying to appear like this is simply to help out his lonely step sister. In reality, he’s doing this solely so he knows what is happening with your relationship status, and he is absolutely praying for Sunghoon’s downfall.

Plus, if he pays someone to date you, it makes up for the fact that he can’t give it a shot himself. Jake can easily get your focus off of Sunghoon for even just a little while, he’s sure of it and considering he’s his best friend, he knows Jake wont cross any boundaries and keep this to strictly business. After all, Jake can just break up with you by the time you’re over Sunghoon, and who will be there to comfort you?

Exactly. Jay will be there.

Essentially, your step-brother will have full control over your love life for a mere two hundred dollars a month.

All so you don’t go out and actually meet someone else. All so he doesn’t have the jealousy in the back of his brain nagging at him. All so he can, kind of, in his head, keep you to himself.

“Well, to be fair –” Jay offers to Jake, noting how long his hair has gotten. “I’m just finding out I have a step sister too. But listen, she’s got this asshole going back and forth with her and I can’t let him keep doing it.”

“So, what you’re saying is that, you’re paying me to get your sister’s mind off of him?” Jake raises a brow, stunned by the fact that he hasn’t seen Jay all year and this is the first thing they talk about upon meeting up again. “Why me?”

Jay smiles.

“You’re my best friend, anyone else would cross a boundary. Just date her ‘til she moves on or something, I don’t know. I don’t want to watch her be taken advantage of by someone like him.” He explains, as if he’s not trying to take advantage of the situation himself.

Jake nods, not really needing to think too much about how good of a deal this is.

“What makes you think I could pull her though? You just said that she’s hot. Since when can I pull hot girls?”

“Well, you probably can’t,” Jay laughs, “But you could probably play the part pretty well if you act like your GPA is garbage and like, i don’t know? Act cool? She seems to like the idiot edgy guys.”

Jay is pleased with the way Jake instantly accepts, and doesn’t focus on the fact any longer that he called his step sister hot, or at least, until he does.

“Okay. Act cool, maybe paint my nails–” Jake’s eyes light up. “Oh! Do you think she’s into, like, band guys? I can pull out your old guitar and say you’re teaching me to play so I can get bitches.”

Jay smacks him across the head for already acting about as dumb as you’d probably like, then actually considers the fact that it’s a great idea.

“Wait, yeah actually.” Jay smiles. “Would probably be best if she doesn’t know we are friends too. Use that as an excuse to come over and hangout and stuff.” He trails off momentarily before Jake speaks again.

“So, is she actually hot though?”

Jay freezes, because yeah. But he really can’t just say that again considering the circumstances. Plus, why the fuck should Jake care? He only said it before as a means to convince him to take the deal.

“You’ll like her.” He avoids saying anything else, ignoring the feeling in his gut that he knows Jake is going to be all over you the second he gets the chance. “Just–listen, there are rules involved in this.” Jay finally warns, tapping his wallet.

“Rules? Okay, go on.”

“For two hundred a month, take her out. Just dates. Talk to her and hang out with her, I don’t know.” He starts, waving his hands around as if he’s trying to think about what he’s saying, and ultimately, beating around the bush. He notes quite quickly though, how Jake looks at him as if he just stated the obvious.

“I mean, like, don’t fuck her. Don’t kiss her, don’t be weird.”

Because that, somehow, feels worse than knowing you’re already wasting your body on Sunghoon.

Jake tilts his head in confusion.

“How exactly are you going to pay me to date her and not act like I’m interested?” He asks, furrowing his brows. “What if she tries to kiss me? What if she tries to fuck me?”

Jay laughs, or snorts, really.

“Please.” He waves him off. “I doubt that will be an issue but if, for some insane reason it does come up– just tell her you’re saving yourself or something.”

And at the end of the day, Jake accepts the terms of the deal, not yet pocketing the money because Jay tells him that he needs to go home before you come home.

Why? Because he’s not looking the part. If you walk in and see this loser sitting in front of him, you’ll automatically know that Jake is a close friend of Jay’s. You need to not know that.

So, with that, Jake goes home with a plan to come over for “guitar lessons” the following day, at a time where Jay knows you’ll be home. And then? After the initial meeting, he will get his first payment.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He knew it. Jay fucking knew you were a slut.

Jake didn’t even have to try that hard. Honestly, it’s almost pathetic to watch. If anyone on campus found out, if Sunghoon found out how you’re acting right now, he thinks your reputation would spiral straight into the gutter.

And while he shames you for unintentionally falling into the trap, he feels proud. Proud that his best friend is able to play a part so well.

Jake came over, dark hair unbrushed but somehow intentionally styled, flannel hanging off his shoulder, where a ratty black tank covered his chest underneath. Ripped jeans just tight enough to show off, just loose enough to make it look like he knows how to wear these kinds of clothes, and he wears them well. Nails painted, and it even appears that he intentionally chipped them.

Hell, he barely recognized his own best friend when he walked through the door.

“Holy shit.” Jay had said upon sizing him up. “What the fuck?”

And Jake just smiled at him, with the same loser-filled dopey grin as he always had before the two of them went to Jay’s room, made sure the door was open, and plugged in the guitar for maximum noise level.

After all, His father and your mother go on date nights like three times a week it seems. There’s plenty of time to be rowdy college kids if need be.

And the need is definitely here.

It wasn’t long by the time you came home, curious as to why you were hearing the sound of guitar strings being plucked terribly. When the fuck did Jay play a guitar? Arguably, if this is what he does when no one is home, maybe he’s a little more likable in the fact that his hobbies aren’t sitting around and jerking off while staring at his GPA.

When you walked into the room though, prepared to annoy the fuck out of your step-brother, you stopped upon seeing him look the same as ever while sitting just in front of….some guy.

Just, some fucking guy.

A hot fucking guy.

With a guitar on his lap, with your step brother offering direction to him.

Jay looked at you, noted your curiosity of his best friend-turned-pretend-stranger, and then glared.

“Can I help you?” He had said, taking the guitar from the guy and propping it up on his lap.

You stood there, feeling the eyes of the other dude staring you up and down before shaking your head

“Uh, no.” You had responded before awkwardly slinking away and into your own room.

And honestly, it would have ended there if it weren’t for the fact that Jake was immediately whisper shouting at Jay about how you really are hot. Making plans on how to get you back in the room, or perhaps how to get Jake out of it and beside you.

It wasn’t hard really, as Jay reminds himself how it all went down. His own discomfort aside at how Jake appears to act much like he does in his own head.

“Just finished up the lesson, you wanna come eat something with us?” He had said, far too out of character.

“You give fucking guitar lessons?” You responded, entirely confused by the fact that….Jay was the one who played the nice sounding strums, not the guy in front of him, the one that appeared to be the type to be the one giving the lesson.

“Yeah? Are you coming or not?”

You paused, and ultimately joined them upon Jay stating that you could starve for all he cares.

And that’s when Jake started his act.

Sitting next to you, looking at you, asking about your interests, telling you that Jay is helping him learn the guitar because he has dreams of forming his own band someday. That he’s in college but doesn’t really care much for it, that his dreams lie in the stars still and no desk or nine to five job would bring them down for him.

Jay did want to smack his best friend across the head for that lame line, but you seemed to think it was poetic, or romantic, or some shit. It only further reminded him that you’re entirely too dumb and he needs to be here to make sure you don’t get all caught up again with a guy who doesn’t look at you the way he does.

The way he can’t stop looking at you, actually.

Jay watched as you fell in tune with his best friend’s pretend-persona, and arguably Jake was far more charismatic than usual. If he chose to really dress like this, or act like this, Jay thinks he could probably pull any girl he wants.

And he watched, and he watched, and he watched. Up until the third time Jake pretended he was going to leave so as to not intrude in the home any further.

Jay didn’t have to make the excuse that time. It was you.

And that’s when he noted that you are, absolutely, unmistakably, a fucking slut.

Why? Well, it could be due to the fact that after having a quick meal, you ran to your room and came back out dawning your own fucking tank top, showing off a pair of nice tits that you seemed to hide from him. Which, his head shouldn’t be in the gutter about that but man. He and Jake were both stunned at how you decided to present yourself.

Could be due to the fact that it’s like, you met Jake for a solid hour and immediately started sucking up. Using a cute voice that Jay knows for a fact is fake as hell. You whine about Sunghoon, like you’d struggle to truly break up with him, but you’re still all over Jake like you’ve been flirting for fucking years.

It could also be due to the fact that you invited Jake to stay longer by inviting him into your room under the guise of “checking out your music selection.”

Jay was left to his devices by that point, where you led his best friend to your room and closed the door in his face with the argument of, “Jongseong, since when were you so interested in what I listen to anyway?”

He huffed in annoyance at you saying his name and then slamming the door on him, he huffs in even more annoyance as he steps back and leans against the wall thinking hard about the plan he’s come up with.

The fact that he’s living with a total skank who never once looked at him the way you did to Jake all fucking day. Is he that boring? Really? He knew you liked edgy guys based on Sunghoon. Such a pretty boy, despite getting rowdy and dirty during hockey practice and matches. Jay never understood how he kept his face pristine, and also never understood why girls liked him at all when it came to how much of an asshole he was.

And then there’s Jake, playing the part of someone Jay assumed you’d like. It’s the fact that you do like it, and it’s entirely different from himself. Even if you weren’t now related by marriage, he probably never would have had a fucking chance with you to begin with.

Even with all of that clicking in his head, he still finds himself wanting you more now than he ever did before. With that fucking tank top, and that stupid fake voice you were using, and with your stupid interest in his stupid best friend.

This was probably a bad idea. After all, he could have just left it alone but no. He just had to be in control of who you’re dating. At the very least though, Jake knows to keep his hands to himself, and that’s the only thing that comforts Jay in regards to this deal.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Jongseong?” Jake laughs when you close the door and trap him in your room with him. Eyes glued to you and the sweet deal Jay offered up. “I’ve never heard him called that before.”

He’s lying, of course. Jake has been in and out of this house since he was a child. He’s heard the name hundreds of times, if not thousands.

“I know, right? I couldn’t help but laugh when I heard it the first time.” You snicker, putting on a show when you head to your unpacked box of disks and vinyls. “I don’t think he likes it when I call him that, so I try to do it as much as possible.”

Jake offers you a crooked smile, messy hair dangling in front of his eyes as if they were somewhat….shy? Like he’s being bashful in this room with you, but you try not to think about that because, well, look at him.

He doesn’t seem like the shy type.

“Maybe I’ll start doing it too then.” Jake laughs, standing awkwardly behind you when you bend over to pick up the box. Immediately he chokes up, stepping closer unintentionally because honestly, who wouldn’t think with their dick at this point?

And when you stand back up, turning with the box, you jump at how close he’s gotten.

“Oh!” You breathe in surprise, looking away shyly for a moment, wondering how lucky you must be for your boring ass step brother to invite such a nice looking guy into the home. “Um, you have a nice smile.” You add out of nowhere, and then immediately feel embarrassed.

“You have nice tits,” is what Jake would say in response if he were for one, allowed to, and two, not a nervous mess about being alone in a room with such a pretty girl.

Only now does he realize how difficult this might be to get through. For two hundred dollars? Well, it’s a sweet deal if you actually want to go on a date with him, and given the persona he’s given himself, he thinks he could probably get away with asking tonight. Which is insane, because he really thought he’d be paid another two hundred just to get to that point. You’re entirely into him though, and he hates to admit that he might be entirely into you too. Jay would kick his ass if he knew what’s going through his head right now.

“I like your tank top,” Jake says instead, wanting to reach forward and snap the strap of it solely because he feels confident enough to do it, but he doesn’t. The words are actually quite lame, and are a blatant show at how bad he is at talking to girls. Thankfully though, you know, since he’s supposed to sound like a guy with two brain cells, it kinda works out.

“It matches mine.”

You smile shyly yet again, entirely in tune with the idea of taking Jay’s advice and having some fun yourself. Perhaps with this guy. But for now? You have to at least pretend you actually want to show him your music collection.

And of course, Jake has to pretend he actually cares about it when you sit down on your bed and start sifting through the boxes.

“Huh, you like some pretty heavy stuff. I wasn’t expecting that.” Jake compliments, though uninterested in a music taste that isn’t his own, it’s insane how the two of you do listen to some of the same bands.

“Oh yeah? Why not?” You ask, sitting up straight and making sure your chest looks good enough to keep his eyes glancing down at them.

Because he hasn’t stopped looking, really.

“I dunno,” Jake shrugs, watching how your tits squeeze together and he can’t tell if it’s intentional or not. No girl has ever tried to show off for him like this, and he’s enjoying it a bit too much. “I, um,” He loses his train of thought when you lean back, letting your breasts fall into their natural position as you look at him.

“My eyes are up here, Jake.” You smile, watching him tear his eyes away and swallow around a lump in his throat.

“Oh, right.” He lends a nervous chuckle, one that he feels is entirely out of character given the personality he’s supposed to have. “Can’t really help it, they’re nice.”

Ah, right back into the act, perfect.

He almost panicked at the forwardness too, because Jake would never have the confidence to say such a thing to a woman on any other day.

“Oh? You can’t?” You smile, leaning back up and pushing the box from your lap. “Maybe I should cover up then?” You add, staring right at his flannel.

Jake notes your line of sight and then looks down at his own shirt.

“What?” He says, pinching the collar of the flannel and shaking it. “You already wanna wear my clothes?” He smiles.

“If you wanna see me in them.” You comment shortly, sizing him up for the billionth time. “Or out of them.”

Well, it’s safe to say Jake wasn’t prepared for that. This deal is going a bit too smoothly, and he just knows that Jay must not have any idea of this side of you. His sister, right here, insinuating Jake should like, take her clothes off. Or rather, take his clothes off of you.

It’s against the rules but goddamn is he feeling the spark with you. Right in his pants, actually. Embarrassingly.

“I’ll give it to you right now if you go out with me tomorrow night.” Jake avoids the situation smoothly, while offering an alternative. “Then, we can talk about getting my clothes off of you.”

You nod, feeling your heart skip beats at flirting with a man that isn’t Sunghoon.

“Hand it over then.” You reach out, leaning in real close to him. “But, I’d still rather you keep staring at my tits.”

Man, following the rules Jay set in place is gonna be way, way, harder than he thought.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake could get used to this, really. Taking you on dates, anyway. What he can’t get used to? Dodging anything more than dirty talk and then coming over just the next day to see the confusion on your face as to why he isn’t picking up your hints.

He wants to, like really, he really, really, fucking wants to. You’re so blatant with him on dates, rubbing up on him, whispering slutty little words that only drive his cock to pulse and beg to be used. He can’t bear it, especially knowing that these very dates are paid for by your own step brother.

Still, if he were allowed, he probably could have gotten himself between your legs on the very first day he met you.

“No, dude, she was all over me this time, even more than usual.” Jake explains to Jay during another guitar lesson, pleased that he’s actually learning how to play. “She even mentioned that guy Sunghoon and said I was way cooler than him.”

Jay was pleased, he could say. Save for the jealousy that only grows each time he watches you take Jake away from his lesson to hang out with, without him. Save for the fact that you only continue to prove that you like any guy who isn’t him. In reality, why would you? He knows there is logic to this situation, but he is finding it harder and harder every day to think logically around you.

Jealous. He’s jealous. He’s mad at how bad you want it from Jake. Hell, you’d probably take it from anyone at this point as he eyes his best friend and his new found fashion sense. It matches him, and acting like an idiot seems to match him too. Maybe Jay should consider not brushing his hair and dumbing down a little bit too.

Then again, this could just be the resentment in him building up. He’s the only reason Jake has a girl throwing herself at him. Both you and Jake should be far more thankful for what Jay has brought upon the three of you.

Still, he’s pissed about how good the plan is working, and before long, he’s hoping that Sunghoon will be long forgotten when Jake finally asks you to be his girlfriend. Then he can toy around for a bit before breaking up with you under the guise that “you’re just not his type.”

“I had the idea that she was easy,” Jay explains, rolling his eyes at his best friend. “No wonder Sunghoon kept coming back, it’s like he knew she would throw herself at him at the drop of a hat.”

Jake pauses, furrowing his brow.

“Why would you even say something like that?” Jake asks, tilting his head. “Aren’t we doing this to like, help her?”

Jay shakes his thoughts out, realizing how awful that must have sounded.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves off his edgy best friend. “Of course. I was just saying.”

There's some awkward silence in the room now as Jay’s internal panic takes over. He doesn’t want his reputation on the line for this. Even just to Jake. Perhaps he’s being too resentful with his words, only able to offer passive-aggressive remarks out loud when it comes to you.

“I just thought that if we got her away from him, maybe she’d stop throwing herself at guys that don’t care about her, is all.”

Jake gives him a look of further confusion, maybe even some concern. “Um, isn’t that what we’re doing right now?”

Damn, Jay really should’ve thought that through. Is he losing his touch? Is your stupidity rubbing off on him now?

“Yeah, but you’re not touching her so, maybe it’ll help her learn some fucking self restraint? I don’t know dude, just be a good boyfriend, fuck.”

Jake raises his hands in defense, realizing he basically interrogated Jay of his choice of words, and perhaps thought too deeply into them. Still, he can’t help but feel like Jay holds some type of hatred within him for you, which is weird, considering the lengths he is going to try and “help” you.

“God, relax.” Jake reaches forward to grab his best friend by the shoulders. “As much as she throws herself at me, I guess I can kind of understand what you mean.”

Jake understands far too well, having gone through one too many dates while trying to contain himself to give in to your every hint or insinuation of at least kissing.

He happens to miss the way Jay glares at him for his words though. Because in all honesty, no one is allowed to talk about you like that but him, and there was something in him that broke to hear Jake insinuate that you’re a slut. Like Jake isn’t the luckiest guy in the world right now to have you throwing yourself at him?

Bullshit.

“I’ll be a good boyfriend, I promise.” Jake finally adds, checking his watch. “She’s gonna be home soon too. I’ll try and get her to hang out in the living room this time so you can see what I mean though.”

Jay wants to refuse the option to watch even more than he already has to, but there’s something in him that kind of can’t resist it.

“She likes horror movies, you know?” Jake continues, giving Jay information that he probably should have already known, but somehow doesn’t. “I’ll tell her that you wanted to watch the new one, and I’ll pay to rent it since, you know, you’re paying me to do this.”

Jay shrugs casually, anticipating the image of you and his best friend all tangled up on the couch, while he’s stuck at the end by himself. With no one. Alone.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Dad’s probably gonna be home but I can ask for the living room.”

“Oh shit, wait–” Jake thinks hard. “What if he sees me looking like this? Acting like this? She’s gonna find out that I've been lying this entire time about us being friends and shit.”

Jake only panics because he believes he’s acting more with Jay than he is with you. If you were to find out that he’s been lying, you’d be so angry at him. But do you know what scares him more? Jay finding out that he maybe kind of actually likes you more than he’s supposed to.

Jay sighs in defeat because his best friend is right, if his father finds out that Jake is running around acting like this, dressing like this, he’ll definitely say something about it.

“You know…” Jake finally says, staring at Jay’s TV.

“No.” Jay immediately shuts the idea down, not at all wanting to experience the two of you tangled together on his own bed.

“Dude, come on. Why not?”

Jay rolls his eyes in an annoyed huff, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stands to put the guitar away, ignoring that there was no practicing at all today. It’s just been hours of talking about you. And how you’ve managed to find yourself a summer job so fast, and how you’re entirely horny for Jake, and how–

“I don’t want to see my own sister try and get in your pants in my room.” Jay tries to explain as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Then, immediately he gives in. Solely because the sudden thought of you lying in his bed at all again is something that….might help later.

“Jake, so help me god if you so much as brush your hand across her tit I’m going to slice your tires.”

Jake smiles in victory, nodding to his best friend with the promise that, at least tonight, he wouldn’t do such a thing.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Every day you find yourself wondering why it is that Jake appears to be so into you, yet constantly shooting you down.

When you try to kiss him, he leans in, his eyes start to close, sometimes you can even feel his breath on your lips then, he just– pulls away?

When you try to insinuate that you want to touch him, or want him to touch you, you can physically see his reaction. The way his ears go red, his eyes go dark, and occasionally you even catch a glimpse of what’s in his pants growing heavy and strained.

It’s driving you crazy, really. With the way he talks all that shit but doesn’t live up to it. He’ll say some of the nicest things, he’ll dirty talk you in the middle of a restaurant, he’ll even make promises to follow through with it too. But he never does. You find yourself wondering why you even continue to text him back, or why you consistently keep this fucking flannel he offered up to you on the first day of meeting.

Every single date, you’ve worn it, just to see if he’s got the nerve to take it off of you. And every single date he pretends like it wasn’t his flannel to begin with, despite his hungry stare constantly staying on you.

So now, as you awkwardly half-lay on Jay’s bed with him, Jay separated and on his computer chair, you wonder why he’s even here.

Sure, Jay gives him lessons but as far as you know, it’s a little strange that he stayed over to watch a movie with you presumably, only to invite Jay, and to you know, watch it inside of Jay’s room.

Are they like, friends now or something? Well, arguably they had to have at least been friends on some level, but still. It feels awkward hanging out with Jay when you’re trying to get his “friend” to rail you.

Either way, you guess you don’t mind too much when Jake is actually next to you. Most doubt sinks into the back of your head and the confusion is replaced with that of extreme arousal. Something about this guy, Jake, is alluring and feels…right? Is that the right word for it? Like, correct? Or maybe, meant to be?

You know, maybe he’s waiting on sleeping with you because despite his edgy appearance and his dead-beat goals in life, maybe he really is just a big softie and wants this to work out long-term. God, you hope you’re right about that.

Doesn’t stop you from trying though, as the movie reaches its climax and you move your hand under the covers against Jake’s legs, feeling the rips of his jeans and sliding your hand through one of them. Gently, attempting to feel the warmth of his skin in a discreet and somewhat cheeky way.

You hear his intake of breath at the touch, his shoulders stiffening as he stares forward to try and focus on the movie. Still, you feel his hand move lower, lying it directly on yours with only his thin, ripped denim separating the touch.

“Oops.” You whisper to him, slowly massaging the thick of his thigh with your finger tips, toying with the way he reacts.

You don’t notice the way his eyes shift to Jay, who was already glaring at the movement he noted under the covers, on his fucking bed.

Jake, on the other hand, feels like he’s between a rock and a hard place right now.

He’s being paid to pretend to like you, being paid to not genuinely like you, being paid to not touch you, and practically being paid to ask you to be his girlfriend only to break up with you.

Which fucking sucks because he maybe, kind of, likes you? A little bit?

A lot, actually, especially with your cheeky little whispers and sneaky little hands.

Arguably though, Jay should have known better than to expect Jake to not feel some type of way towards a girl like you. To Jake, it’s insane anyone could simply pretend to be into you without actually falling in deep. You’re not only hot, but you’re fucking funny too? You laugh at his jokes? You cuddle up with him? You’re actually a lot smarter than Jay gives you credit for? And you appear to want to kiss and touch him just as bad as he does.

So, it’s torture really, that he’s so close to breaking. So fucking close to kicking Jay out of his own room just to feel what your hands alone could do for him but, he refrains.

He suffers, sitting here with this not very good horror movie, pretending his cock doesn’t ache for you. Pretending his own best friend doesn’t see how much he wants it. Yet, still hoping you see.

And you do. You do see it.

You feel it too, as you shift your hands out of his ripped jeans and move them upwards as silently and secretly as you can while remaining focused on the movie. You brush your pinky up and against the dick you clearly want so badly at this point. And the way Jake flexes it, almost intentionally lifting his cock up for you to know he likes it, despite the risk of Jay seeing. Despite the fact that he hasn’t done this at any point when the two of you were alone.

You smile to yourself, pushing your hand closer, closer, closer, until you grab it.

There goes his stiff shoulders again, there goes a soft sigh, and you’re fucking beaming.

Jay sees the way the covers are moving over the lap of his best friend, and honestly? He’s appalled over the fact that Jake was right. You fucking throw yourself at him with no shame, to the point that not even being in the same room as your step-brother would stop you enough to have some fucking self-restraint.

He watches for a while, about five minutes or so. Studies the way Jake makes attempts to arch away from your touch as if he’s following the rules of the deal but, Jay isn’t stupid. Jake, of all people, should know that. He can fucking see the way he also arches into your touch too, despite it all being under the blanket he sleeps under at night.

It’s not until Jay sees you throw your leg over Jake’s, and you lean in really close to him to the point your face is hidden in his neck and Jake appears to be listening to something you’re saying, that he decides to put a stop to this.

Neither of you are even watching this movie. You’re encouraging Jake, surely. You’re trying to snake your hand down his pants. You’re trying to fuck his best friend, right in front of him.

It feels like an insult, or perhaps an intentional act of defiance and god knows Jake wouldn’t be able to resist if Jay himself feels a twitch in his pants at the scene unfolding, even through this frustration.

Why are you like this? Why do you just–do this to yourself? To him? To his best friend? Why do you seem to know how irresistible you are? It’s almost at the point that Jay wouldn’t even want to put a stop to it solely to see what your hands could to for him if this life wasn’t so fucked up.

Still, he has to put an end to it. Jake is breaking the rules.

“Are you really trying to do that right now?” Jay asks out, and he watches the way you snap your hand back and lean away from Jake.

Both heads turn to him, and he huffs out a sigh of frustration that shows you crossed a line.

“What do you mean?” You ask, trying to pretend that you weren’t doing anything at all to the pretty boy sitting next to you.

“God–” Jay grimaces. “You’re really gonna play dumb after arguing with me that you’re not?”

You lift past Jake, staring at him.

“You can be a whore all you want, but to assume I want to see it? You’re disgusting. I’m your fucking step-brother.” He finally says, as if it’s final, and as if to convince himself that every word he spits is true.

Jake remains silent as he listens to the way Jay speaks to you, quite offended for you, maybe even a bit pissed off about it himself. Then again, it could just be because Jay is dead set on cock-blocking him.

You though? You feel silenced, a little embarrassed, and entirely turned on by the fact that Jake’s first time letting you actually touch him, was right here. Maybe he’s into that. You know, like, being caught or something. Still, the quickness in which Jay shames you isn’t shocking at all but for him to have an ego to the point of assuming you did this for him to watch? Insane, he’s so fucking stuck in his head to believe that everything a person does, is because of him.

A fucking text-book narcissist.

“And you.” Jay says, shifting his eyes over to Jake. “You could do better.”

Ouch. That stings a little bit, as your eyes avoid looking towards Jay and fall onto Jake, who only swallows at his words.

Without another word, you shift from the bed, stand to your feet, and walk out, leaving the two in the room alone.

Jake feels, uh, bad?

Or rather, he knows he’s supposed to but he simply doesn’t. After all, it’s been two paychecks from Jay now and he still hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend solely because he finds himself wanting it to last.

Even without the sex. Even with the intense edging he’s being put through. Even with the fact that he’s hard as a rock as Jay attempts to scold him, he doesn’t feel bad.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jay finally offers to the silence of the room upon turning off the movie. “Did we not agree that you’d–”

Jake huffs out, annoyed for the first time.

“Dude, shut up already.” He rolls his eyes as he turns to his friend, wincing at the way his cock is going soft and sensitive. “Don’t tell me you didn’t fucking see me try to stop her.”

Jay thinks that through for a moment. Not entirely blaming Jake for like, eventually giving up and letting you touch him but also entirely pissed that it’s happening for Jake, and not for himself.

“You did a bad fucking job of it.” He gripes back to him. “If you give in to the fact that she has no self-respect, you’re just as bad as Sunghoon and I’ll just go find someone else to take care of her.”

Jake pauses because he's right in terms of the deal but god. It’s not like he can just out and say “hey, so i think i actually like her and wouldn’t be against actually dating her, like for real, also i hate the way you talk to her so if you don’t stop i might have to punch you in the face.”

“I’m not going to give in.” Jake lies, knowing for a fact that it’s only a matter of time before he does. “She still cries over Sunghoon and I’m genuinely trying to make this situation better here, Jay, so fucking relax.”

Jay wants to believe him, but truly, he doesn’t. Solely because there’s no way he won't give in considering what he’s just witnessed. At this point, you might actually end up wanting to be with Jake for good, and Jay will lose his control of the whole situation.

“Plus, you can’t just go find some stranger to do this, they’d definitely fuck her, day one.” Jake makes a good point to his friend, reminding him that he isn’t the dumb guy he’s parading as.

Jay does take those words into account. Honestly, he really would have the entire control taken from him if he paid someone else to do this. At least he can threaten Jake with friendship, or guilt him or something if he does step over the line.

“Hurry it up then, I don’t want this shit to last all summer.” Jay finally huffs out, slightly defeated that this is his fault anyway, but still trusting his best friend and understanding him on some level.

“Okay, I’ll go ask her to be my girlfriend right now.” Jake smiles. “The sooner I ask, the sooner she gets over him, and the sooner all of this can be over with, right?”

He hopes he’s wrong.

Jay nods reluctantly, and Jake is instantly out of the room and able to breathe the biggest sigh of relief in his life. It’s insane how he’d rather be with you over his own childhood best friend, but whatever. Life works in mysterious ways or something.

And as Jay sits in silence, glaring at the spot on the bed where you had his best friend’s dick in your hand, all he can do is feel angry.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You hear the soft knock on your door and already know exactly who it is. It’s not Jay, it’s not his father, and it’s certainly not your mother.

The knock is gentle, almost reluctant despite knowing he’s allowed to walk into your room at any point, without so much as asking.

“Come in.” You smile to yourself, trying to push the awkward situation that just happened out of your mind.

The door opens and Jake steps inside, looking to the floor and seemingly avoiding eye contact with you. Part of you wonders if it’s because he finally had the balls to let you touch his dick, but another part of you knows it’s probably because Jay just chewed his ass out for letting you do it right in front of him.

“Sorry about doing that,” You look away now, trying to deafen the silence in your room into a numbness that doesn’t feel nearly as awkward as it does right now. “I shouldn’t have done that in front of Jongseo-”

Jake immediately shakes his head at your words, sitting down on your bed and grabbing your face in his hands.

It’s a shock, actually, that only now he acts the way you expected from the beginning.

“It’s my fault.” Jake explains, holding your face to look at him. “I wanted to make you my girlfriend before we did anything more–” He continues, already leaning in to kiss you for the first time without shying away from it. “I didn’t want you to think I was just trying to fuck you.”

And man, that hit you right in the heart, especially because he said it, and then immediately kissed you before letting you answer him. As if he was afraid you’d say no or something. As if he’s trying to prove something right now.

He certainly is proving it too, surprising you in the way he’s a decent kisser though not entirely great at it. Such a confident and pretty boy seems to not have nearly as much experience with girls as he lets on. That alone was something you picked up on, because let’s be honest.

No one but Jake would get that obviously hard at a restaurant over spilled water on your tits.

And when he pulls back from the kiss, he feels elated in the way he just lied straight to Jay’s face. Promising to follow through with the deal, which also held the promise of no physical contact with you.

He really walked straight out of his best friend’s room, went to your room, and kissed you. He couldn’t be prouder of it when he pulls back, heart pounding in defiance, and looking at you for an answer.

“You want me to be your girlfriend?” Is the first thing you ask, feeling his hands fall from your face and land against both sides of your hips as you look at him. “And that’s why you let me make a fool of myself trying to get in your pants?”

You both smile before chuckling and looking away from each other at how blatant that question was, because you both know how true it is.

Only Jake knows how true it isn’t supposed to be though.

“Yeah,” He answers, looking away from you and ignoring the chill on his shoulders from the air in your room. He really should stop trying to dress like a slutty man for you, honestly. It’s no wonder you were all over him.

“I kind of don’t think it would be a good idea if I fuck my guitar teacher’s sister without at least taking her on a few date’s first, you know?”

“Hah,” You roll your eyes briefly before flopping back against your pillows and feeling the way his hands fall lower to the top of your thighs. They’re warm, and big. “You’re always around and I can’t say Jongseong has that many friends to begin with.”

Jake almost feels bad that he knows you’re right.

“Arguably, you’re probably his only friend and he would feel embarrassed knowing you don’t even see him as one to begin with.” You laugh at how sad Jay really is as a person. “Just your guitar teacher, huh?”

Someone so entitled, so fucking rude. If anything, he should know by now that his lack of friends are determined entirely by his shitty personality.

“I can see that,” Jake nods, staying put as you blink up at him from the pillows. “I mean, I like hanging out with him but I don’t necessarily like the way he talks to you. I can imagine he’d kill me if he knew I kissed you.”

You roll your eyes.

“I can assure you, Jake. He doesn’t give two fucks about me.” Your arms reach out for him, and immediately he intertwines his fingers with yours.

And it feels good for him to do. To have a girlfriend in some way, despite it not technically being real to anyone but himself and you. After all, a relationship built on a lie can’t last, can it?

Maybe he really should just stick to the plan and pull back before it’s too late. Maybe you wouldn’t even be interested in him if he didn’t act this way. Or if he didn’t dress this way. Or talk this way. Or play guitar.

How could he ever think he’s even in the right to do this to begin with? What? For two hundred a month? God, he fucked up yet, he doesn’t want to turn back now.

There’s a chance it can still work, right? He can at least enjoy the time he has with you before he inevitably has to break up with you, right?

You don’t have to know about the deal, and Jay doesn’t have to know about how he intends to break the terms of it.

…Right?

“So,” Jake finally says, looking away from you before turning and falling forward over you, keeping his fingers tightly locked with yours above your head as he lands his face in front of yours. “Will you be my girlfriend then?”

You smile shyly, looking down before making direct eye contact with him again. Noting how his lips constantly form a natural pout in silence, and the way his eyes are always so bright.

“What about when my break is over and I have to go back to campus?” You ask reluctantly, hoping that he isn’t like Sunghoon. “Are you just going to stop talking to me?”

Jake hates that he is in a position where he has to lie, going back and forth in his mind of whether to betray himself or his own best friend.

“I like you, you know?” He says, not breaking eye contact. Trying to will his words now to stick with you through the inevitable break up if that's what it comes down to. “I’d come see you every weekend.”

You smile.

“So, what? You think I’m just gonna let you be so far away all the time?” He continues, instilling a sense of comfort in your chest. “You think I’d be able to stay away from you for a whole semester? I can barely make it a few days as is.”

The way he chuckles at how silly your question sounds makes you feel…wanted? Almost needed?

And as you look up at him, with that mess of fluffy hair and big, sparkling eyes, all you can think about is how lucky you feel to have so many new people in your life this summer. Even Jay. You appreciate the fact that he brought Jake into your life, even if accidental.

You’re happy your mom is in love, happy that his father appears to be good for her, happy that Jake is here right now, treating you like a goddamn person.

Happy that Sunghoon hasn’t texted you.

Happy that even Jay encourages you to keep your break-up status with the man, showing that he cares on some level for your well being.

“You’re too good to be true, you know?” You say, sending Jake into an absolute world or happiness.

He’s never had a girl tell him that. Let alone a girl so fucking pretty.

“That still doesn’t answer the question, babe.” He finally says, ticking his tongue as if he’s being cheeky.

“Oh, right.” You roll your eyes with a smile. “I thought I was being obvious with my answer, but I forgot that you’re kind of dumb.” You add with a smile, lifting your head to kiss against his nose.

“I am kinda dumb, aren’t I?”

If only you knew how true that statement is. No GPA can explain why he feels so stupidly attracted and attached to you. He can’t explain it to anyone but you.

Jay would kill him if he knew how real he wants this to be.

“A little, yeah.” You laugh, kissing his cheek this time.

“For you, at least.” He whispers, feeling like he’s being far more real than he should be and loving every second of it. “So, be my girlfriend.”

You roll your eyes again, lending him an even brighter laugh.

“You seriously think I wouldn’t?”

And he just smiles, dipping down to kiss you again for the second time.

You can’t help but feel elated by it, and the way he seems to break how eager he’s been for this. Elated by the fact that he waited, and he has done nothing but respect you as a person.

Arguably, you don’t think you could ever refuse to be his girlfriend. With that rough fashion sense and entirely too-soft personality. It’s such a stark contrast when you think about it.

All of the cocky dirty talk, all of his boldness? It was clearly just a front that would make you like him because this is not at all what you expected. If anything, it’s a pleasant surprise that he did that for you. Showing off, trying to get your attention, then flipping on a dime when you give him the time of day.

“You’re a lot sweeter than I thought you’d be.” You finally whisper out. “Honestly, I expected you to fuck the lights out of me and never call back the first day we met.”

Jake chuckles, trying to avoid how much that statement turns him on because on instinct he knows he shouldn’t be doing this.

“Can I be honest?” He asks against your lips, lending a small lick to the bottom one with a nod. “I really, really, wanted to.”

You pause, opening your eyes and seeing that he’s already looking at you.

“I would have called you though.” He smiles, calming the immediate insecurity you felt about his statement.

Now though? The thought of knowing Jake wanted to fuck you since day one only drives you to like him more than you already did.

“Oh yeah?” You smile, feeling his fingers release from yours and move right back to your hips. “Does it make me a bad person to say I would have let you?”

Jay would have called you a slut again over that.

“No, babe.” He shakes his head with an amazed chuckle. “If that makes you a bad person, wouldn’t it make me a bad person too?”

Wow, the first man to ever speak to you as an equal.

Jay would probably call him a slut too.

“What about now, then?”

God, Jake really can’t resist. He’s already waited so long, and now that you’re officially his girlfriend…kind of, why should he? Jay doesn’t need to know that he’s trying to think up some way to get out of the deal. Really, Jay should be happy that you’ll be with someone who actually cares for you, right?

After all, this whole plan was to help you.

Why should it matter if it ends a little bit differently? All he needs to do is sit him down and talk to him. All he needs to do is not accept any more money, right? Technically, Jay isn’t the type to be that bad of a person. Like, he wouldn’t actually be mad that Jake caught feelings, right?

He’s not breaking the rules if it’s true.

“If you can be quiet–” Jake says, leaning back and glancing around the room. “Jay was really mad about what happened in his room, I don’t want him to kick my ass thinking I came in here and railed his sister.”

You roll your eyes.

“Jay doesn’t give a shit. He probably thinks we’ve already been fucking.”

God, the dynamic between you and your step brother is so fucking weird, Jake thinks. You have such a weird view of him, and he seems to have such a weird view of you. You really think Jay doesn’t give a shit while he’s the one who seems entirely too protective of you while also being an absolute scum-bag towards you.

“Still,” Jake pauses, pulling back entirely and sitting over you. “I’d rather your parents not walk in.”

“Then, lock the door?” You offer, eyes scanning his body and noting the way he’s always hard when he’s with you. Those tight jeans do nothing to save him the embarrassment, and part of you wonders how often he wore them on purpose.

Plus, you can imagine he’s probably suffering after having already played with him briefly in Jay’s room.

“Right. Doors have locks on them.” Jake dead-pans, standing up and wincing at the way his cock is entirely too obvious about what he wants to do right now. “I’ll just–” He points his thumb to your door before locking it and practically leaps back on the bed with you, laughing all the way.

And you know, the last thing Jake expected today was to share his first real touch with you, first real kiss with you, or his first time actually, like, pushing to break the rules. He’s a little nervous, seeing as how he’s maybe had sex with two girls in his entire life, but still.

He can’t possibly be bad at it, right?

It doesn’t process in his mind how he’s absolutely breaking boundaries right now, and even if he did, he wouldn’t care. The way you laugh along with him sets his heart aflame, and the way you look at him shows him that this could be real. He could truly be your boyfriend, slowly reverting back to his normal self under the guise of a “bad boy” phase or something.

And now, as you look at him, you note how soft he truly is despite all of those dirty words he said previously. He’s really just sitting on your bed, laughing like a boy in love and it makes you feel entirely different than how Sunghoon makes you feel.

“It’s nice, you know?” You say, glancing down when you reach out to him again, mostly to resume the position and pull him back on top of you.

“Hm?” He hums, following the pull and landing both of his hands on either side of your head, staring down at you as if he could eat straight through your chest and to your heart. “What is?”

“The fact that there’s someone here for me, I guess?”

Ah, he’s a goner. Sorry Jay, the deal is over.

“Do you think Sunghoon will try to get you back again?” Jake follows up. “You know I won’t let him, right? You’re my girlfriend now.”

You smile, lifting your head a bit to kiss his plush top lip before shaking your head.

“I’m sure he’ll try, but I don’t think I’m interested in him anymore,” You start, hearing the buzzing in the air due to the pure electric feeling in the room. “Now that I’ve met you, anyway.”

This is the point in which Jake is supposed to move back from you. This is when he’s supposed to whisper to Jay that the deal is done, and that Sunghoon is no longer an issue. This is the point that Jake absolutely shouldn’t be rolling off you, feeling your soft pillows hug around his head, and pulling you on top of him instead.

It’s like you’re meant to straddle him with how perfect you look right now.

“Oh yeah?” He smiles, losing the persona he’s supposed to have, unable to pretend like he isn’t smitten at this moment.

“Yeah.” You say, smiling on top of him and feeling his length pulse beneath you.

You’ve wanted to get on him like this so bad, since the very first night you met him. He waited, he respected you, and now? He’s your boyfriend. He’d let you, right?

“You seem happy,” You rock back on him without warning, listening closely to the way he sighs out at the pressure you offer. “You said if I can be quiet, right?”

He nods eagerly, unable to speak as he watches you move on him, hands reaching to brush the tufts of his dark hair out of his face.

“Can’t make any promises, Jake–” You add, reaching down to the hem of your shirt and lifting it off of you in one motion. “What about you?”

Jake is stunned audibly. You heard his breathing hitch when your shirt blinded you from looking at him for a split second. And who could blame him? He knows he’s staring at the way your tits bounce with just the small lift of your shirt, bulging only partly over the lining of one of the cups.

Immediately he throws one hand up, cupping one in his hand and bucking his hips upward at the ping of arousal centering itself in his body.

“Can you be quiet?” You continue playfully, placing your hand over his and the other behind you, unclasping the bra with ease and letting it fall onto his chest.

Jake immediately shakes his head because, no. Absolutely not. He will not be able to be quiet if any of his jerk off sessions regarding you are anything to go by. In fact, this situation could be quite telling about his lack of experience with women. This situation could be quite fucking telling to anyone outside of this room, actually.

“I thought not,” You smile, reaching down and lifting slightly to remove his ratty old t-shirt. “I don’t care if Jongseong hears anyway. He’s a weirdo, would probably be jealous.”

Jake would like to think you’re wrong about that, but something inside of him agrees with you. The way Jay reacts towards you is fucking weird and ultimately uncalled for. Then again, if Jake had to come home to a brand new sister, who is like– really hot, Jake would probably have a dilemma on his own.

Still, that’s kinda gross if it’s the case, so he tries not to think about it.

“Let him hear then.” Jake finally says, confidence boosted solely because he is now thinking with his dick.

His hands fall straight to your waist once you get his shirt off of him, his eyes stay glued to your tits, and all he can do is push and pull you over his length, praying that these tight jeans don’t rub him raw before he gets to pull it out.

You can tell his body is acting on its own too, with the way he seems entirely gone for you over something so basic in terms of foreplay. After all, this is just grinding. It’s just tits. But you get it, as you stare directly at his toned body that has remained partially hidden from you until now.

And it’s the way you’re just as shameless as he is when it gets hot and heavy. Your lips don’t leave his for the most part after that, at least until you hear his muffled moans as you’re soaking straight through your shorts and onto him.

Both of you are kind of moaning into the kiss actually, and to you it sounds so loud, but you’re sure no one in the home has realized yet. Plus, locks. Doors have locks, so even if they did, you wouldn’t stop anyway.

You can feel the way Jake wants to push, how he’s thinking a mile a minute in the way he kisses you. His tongue seems eager and messy, trying to kiss every part of you, trying to lick and taste your mouth in ways Sunghoon wouldn’t even do.

Arguably, it’s sexy that he does this. So messy and dominating in the kiss despite being worse at it than he was when he came into the room. There’s something about the confidence in being bad at living life that turns you on. He could be bad at everything and you think you’d still want this with him.

Even the way he moves you on his length is messy and not at all thought out. It’s jerky and almost frantic in the way he thrusts up out of time with your movements, like he’s chasing a consistent pressure on the whole of his cock. And like, if he wants that, maybe he should just pull it out for you.

After all, even with the messy boy lying under you, kissing you like he’s desperate for it, you’re still wetter than you’ve ever been with another person.That’s an honest truth you can come to terms with too. Someone obviously so inexperienced? How does he make it feel better than Sunghoon’s expert hands? Fuck if you know, but you can’t help but love every second of how Jake writhes under you.

He acts like he’s never felt so good in his life, and that alone makes you feel entirely needed.

“Let me,” You say in a wet whisper against his lips, sliding your hand down between your bodies and attempting to undo his pants. “Jake, take them off.” You whine shortly after, unsuccessful with unbuttoning them on your own.

“God, fuck, yeah, okay.” He responds frantically, out of breath.

He lifts up, feeling you shift on his lap as you stay in place to your best ability and his eyes don’t leave yours when he undoes his own pants, blinking up with a pretty, glassy gaze and messy dark hair.

All you can do in that moment is hug his head into your chest due to the sheer amount of endearment he gives you, brushing your fingers through his hair and halting his hands where they stay on his undone jeans. There, you grind, hiccuping what resembles a moan solely because he is genuinely just so fucking attractive. You can’t help it, you really can’t.

He’s in awe of the way you use him, hugging his face against your tits, which only allows him to attach his mouth to one of them and moan himself at what you’re doing to him. God, sign him up if this is how you fuck. Holding a person in place, grinding against them, smothering them with your pretty tits, moaning the whole time? He could give you everything. He wants to give you everything. All of him, all of the world, every shiny trinket that’s ever been made.

Honestly? It doesn’t even matter that he couldn’t get his cock out yet, this is something he’s never had a girl do to him and it makes him feel entirely wanted. It’s an addicting feeling too, knowing that you’re chasing the feeling of what he has to offer under these restricting pants, and not being able to wait for it.

“Babe–” Jake mumbles around your nipple, trying to fumble his pants down but being unable to, considering you’re grinding on his lap right now. “Baby, let me get it out–”

It’s kind of insane how you could have gotten off from doing this, fully clothed, fully ready to do it. But, he’s right, and that deep register of his raspy voice only drives you to pull off of him as quickly as you can.

“Mm, sorry, you’re just so,” You start, falling off of his lap and spreading your legs open to show him the wet spot on your shorts. “Shit.” You stop yourself, seeing the way he freezes upon seeing how you display yourself to him.

“Shit.” Jake follows up the same words, not even caring how stupid he must look trying to kick these death-grip skinny jeans off of him.

You do stifle a little chuckle at that blatant show of arousal from him, and you do him a solid by removing your shorts too, heart pounding and face warm when you see his cock spring free once he finally gets the pants down his thighs.

Honestly, you don’t even let him take them off in full before you’re shoving him back to your pillows and smiling at the way he gives you a kind of half-drowsy smirk. You watch his eyes stare you down and you can tell he likes what he sees probably about as much as you do.

“You look so nice in my bed,” You start, crawling over him and grabbing his hand, putting it straight between your legs. “I’ve thought about you every night.”

His eyes roll back in a glorious show of how much of a loser he truly is. A loser for you in full right now, as he feels the wettest part of you yearn for him. His fingers slip and slide so easy, and he plays with your folds in an instant. Drenching his fingers to the point that his own leaking cock wishes you’d do the same for him.

“Me too.” He says, unable to string together a full sentence. “All night.”

You tick your tongue and coo out at him, feeling the way his fingers are gentle, staring down at the way his cock flexes every few seconds.

“What do you think about?” You ask now, crawling over his legs and leaning down to blow against his cock. You see it twitch and stand proudly at the feeling of your warm breath hitting it. “I’ll tell you, if you tell me.”

His fingers can no longer reach the wettest part of you with the way you’ve moved on him, but he doesn’t mind considering when he looks down, you’re smiling at him with his length inches from your face. He chews against his bottom lip at the image before slipping his fingers into his mouth, tasting what could be if you’d let him.

“Nothing as good as this.” He manages to get out from around his fingers as he stares down at you, elated by how he would never let another man experience this from you.

You smile, nodding at the way he doesn’t lie before you lightly tap two fingers at the head of his cock, feeling the precum dribble with each tap enough that it’s almost dripping down his length. You focus on it only for a moment before you use the wet to coat his length in one long stroke.

Another beautiful groan from him, fingers still wedged in his mouth as his eyes roll back again. Then, he’s rolling his head forward, looking down at how your hands grip him, and how your lips look so pretty when you kiss the underside of his length. God, it feels like he’s neglected himself despite jerking off every night to this exact image. Or rather, something that resembles this but could never feel as heavenly.

And when you trail your lips down, kissing against his heavy and cum-filled sack, you feel his entire body flinch in sensitivity and a chuckled moan come from him.

“Sorry–” he mumbles, reaching a hand down to brush against your cheek when you come back up to look at him. “No one has ever done that to m-”

“I’d do just about anything to you right now.” You cut him off, licking against the head of his cock and enveloping his entire length.

He has no words, but so, so many thoughts. Would you really? Anything? Goddamn, he would do anything to you too. Not just right now, but any time. All you’d need to do is ask. All you’d need to do is push him down and sit on him.

And it’s kind of cute really, how he speaks with his body alone. The way his hands grip anything he can get ahold of when you continue to take his cock further and further into your mouth. Up until the size of it is restricting your airways and he’s stuttering against the sheets with a death grip.

He could come right now if he isn’t careful, and he does his best to hold off.

His grip stays tight against your sheets when you breathe through your nose and flex your tongue against the underside of his cock, the weight of his length making it nearly impossible to do. It’s great, actually, how he doesn’t fuck into your throat and render you unable to utilize your own skills to please him.

The sweet, salty flavor of his precum is constant until you take him in too deep to taste it, and when you flick your eyes up, you can see that he’s amazed by how you do this. Part of you wonders if he’s ever been deepthroated at all, with the way he appears to breathe through it and tries to feel each clench of your throat.

God, your mouth is so tight around him too. So warm, tight, and perfect for him. With the way your lips stretch and your cheeks hollow out. He can’t bear to stare at you for too long when you’re doing this. Already he’s trying to hold in moans far too loud, already he knows that one right clench around him, he’s not going to last.

And you love it. Quite literally, you are in love with the way he seems to struggle through the pleasure. So blatant and unashamed of how much he likes what you’re doing. Because honestly? Most men act like you could do more, most act as if you’ll never give the best head of their life.

Jake though? He makes you feel like you’re the only person who could render him a whimpering mess. Part of you wonders if he even knows how loud he’s already being. With his rasps and grunts, with his higher pitched sounds coming from his chest and forcing their way out of his wet and bitten lips.

He really looks like this is where he belongs. Against your pillows, in your bed, cock out, eyes rolled back, hair cute and fluffed out against your pillows.

You pull back slightly when your eyes threaten to become too wet to see him, easing the tension in your throat with each inch of his length that leaves you. And when you fully pull off of him with a pretty and wet little “pop!” sound, he regains all of his composure and stares right at you.

“Holy fuck–” He says with a heaving breath.

“Jake,” You start, clearing your throat before using your hand to gently jerk him off, lips landing against the head of his cock again as you speak. “You kind of act like a virgin, which is funny considering all of the things you said to me before.”

You smile as you say the words, precum still coating your lips.

He lends you a crooked smile, feeling entirely like himself in this moment and not at all ashamed of his lack of experience. He would think that comment would scare him, like he’s doing bad or something. But the way your hand works his cock is just enough to tell him that you love it.

“‘M not a virgin.” He says, voice uneven. “But I can’t say I’ve fucked that many girls.”

That elates you. The fact that he’s so real about it. The idea that he held off with you for a reason that didn’t involve disinterest. It’s almost like he prefers sex to mean something, which is a long forgotten concept to you and anyone else in your life it seems.

“That’s hot.” You comment, halting your hand at the base of his cock before releasing it entirely and crawling further up to straddle him right where you want him.

If he wasn’t already gone for you, he is now. He can feel the warmth of your pussy sit against his already sensitive and needy cock and it takes everything in him not to groan out.

And well, he appears to have zero control of his volume because he does, in fact, groan out.

Loud enough to probably alert the person who he wishes didn’t exist right now.

You moan back at his desperate action, wiggling your hips as if to dig his cock into your thigh, smearing the mess seeping through your panties onto him.

“All this time, I thought about how you could hold me down,” You start, noting how he is nothing like how you imagined he would be. “How you could fuck me hard, and deep,” You slide forward and back a little quicker now, letting the head of his cock bump your clit. “How you could ruin me if you wanted to.”

You’re the one ruining him though. You both know it.

“It looks like I was wrong about those thoughts though, wasn’t I?” You smile at his panic when he shoots his eyes open.

“No!” Jake half-moans, louder than he meant to once again. “I can do that.”

You wouldn’t have believed him if it weren’t for the fact that he definitely tries, lifting from your pillows and tipping you back onto your mattress. Before you even know it, your panties are off of you and he’s grabbing your legs, moving them to wrap around his waist.

Then he just stares at you with flushed cheeks and wet lips.

“I can do anything you want.” He continues, snaking his hands under your ass just to lift your lower half against the underside of his cock. “You want me to hold you down? Fuck you hard?”

You nod, eyes sparkling up at him with a pleased sound at how he shifts who he is entirely for you. Thirty seconds ago you wouldn’t have expected him to change up like this, and it’s only lends you more to like about him.

“Hold onto me, then.” He gives a gentle warning, wishing he could have like, ate you out first or something, but he’s too far gone now to imagine doing anything other than what you ask of him. He can get his head between your thighs another time, yes. He can lick you clean, making sure you know how much he wants you.

And you do, you hold onto him, legs around his waist, hands in his hair, feeling the weight of his cock sit against your wet folds while his hands hold you in place.

And it’s like, woah. Okay, you already experienced how big he is but feeling it there is another thing. He’s quick to stuff your blanket up under you to keep you lifted, and then he’s immediately using one free hand to press down on your stomach, and the other holding his cock as he slides it himself through your folds.

He stares down at the way his length looks between your heat, so wet and glistening from the mix of arousal the two of you drip out. You wish you could see it too, with the way he wets his lips and keeps the bottom one caught between his teeth.

And when you moan, his eyes flick up to your face, so innocent looking at this moment despite your kissed lips and heaving breath. Tits on full display, pussy spread out around his cock, god. He’s in heaven. He can most definitely hold you down and fuck you deep, it’s like he was born to do it, if he’s being honest.

And then, in one movement, he pushes his cock down with his thumb and slides in, bottoming out in one motion while keeping his eyes on your face. With the way your jaw is slack, and your eyes close in pleasure.

He does much the same, holding his breath as he feels the way your soft walls hug around him, strangling his length in a way he truly needed. You’re so tight, god, so, so, so wet. At this point, he’s not even doing it because you are asking him to, he’s doing it because he can’t help it. His body loses composure the second he bottoms out and feels the entirety of how much this pussy wants him.

Jake doesn’t let you adjust, hell, barely even lets himself adjust before there's an echo of his thighs meeting the flesh of your ass. Consistent, deep, hard. Just like you wanted.

Just like he needed.

And it gets to the point where Jake is burying himself so deep, that you can barely make out words. Moaning his name in hiccups, trying to say something but always stopping short of it.

“J-Ja-J.” You hiccup through each thrust, waiting for him to kiss you, wanting him to kiss you, wanting him to ruin you like you asked, like he promised.

And when Jake is out of breath, listening to that pretty little stuttered mantra of his name, he does lean down to kiss you. Tongue immediately licking against yours to the point that he swears he feels little dribbles of desperate saliva leave the corners of his mouth.

All of it is hot breath, wet, wet, fucking wet. All over.

His hips move faster, and he drives his cock in deeper, his moans only come out louder with each stutter of his name, and honestly? The death grip your legs have on him, keeping him from pulling out of you too far? He has no idea how he’s lasted this long already, but he loves himself a little more knowing that he’s making you feel good.

“Yeah,” He grunts out, pulling one hand back to hold your leg tightly against him, and the other falling on his elbow above your head. He makes direct eye contact with you here, just inches from your face as he speaks with full confidence. “Say my name,” He says almost defiantly. Hoping Jay hears it and knows how good he can be for you. “I’ve been dying to hear you say it like this.”

His thrusts somehow remain consistent as you shoot your hand to your clit, rubbing harshly at his words. You give him exactly what he wants, moaning his name in full against his lips with a desperate and bitten kiss from you, all while your pussy practically strangles the base of his cock with each deep thrust.

His moan sounds relieved when you repeat his name, he swallows your hiccups up, proud that despite how fucking bad he probably is at fucking, you seem to love it.

And when you rub against your clit just right, feeling his abdomen press your fingers against it harder, you continue his name.

Breathing it out in a gasp before your orgasm hits you and he somehow manages to fuck you straight through it. His stuttered name coming out with each slam, never quite able to moan it in full again once you’re seeing stars.

And when your ears pop, and your eyes feel tired, you look at him.

You feel him.

His cock moving desperately in and out of you, the sweat on his brow proving to you how much he wanted to do this to you and for you.

He wants it so bad.

He wants you so bad.

You reach up, feeling the sweat in his hairline when you run your fingers through the mess of hair on his head and push his face down. Your legs fall from around him, and instantly he’s moaning.

“You don’t need to pull out.”

“Fuck–” He stutters, hips meeting your thighs once more before you feel him release strings of thick cum in you. Amazed by that single sentence, half-not even realizing a condom was nowhere in sight anyway. He doesn’t know if he could have pulled out to begin with but the words of encouragement shoot his orgasm straight through him.

And the way he moans through it with uneven breaths? Perfect. He sounds perfect. The way saliva dribbles from the sides of his mouth as his lips desperately kiss against your neck and shoulders? More perfect.

The way he pulls back to look at you after the fact? Twitching inside of you, unmoving, and not pulling out? God.

The two of you lay like this for a while, his cum bubbling out of you from around his sensitive and softened length by the time he finally decides to pull out. Which saddens him a little bit because he hates that he can’t have his cock in you at all times, but still.

And then the panic washes over him. There’s no fucking way Jay doesn’t know what he just did, and the fact that there were no harsh knocks on your door? That’s even more scary.

His heart rate picks up instantly, but you somehow calm him as you continue running your hands through his hair, down to the back of his neck and scratching.

It’s like he mewls at the feeling, nuzzling against you as close as he can get before sighing.

“Jay is going to kill me.” He mumbles against your skin with closed eyes.

You hum out a small chuckle, feeling the sticky mess between your legs and somehow not feeling as grossed out as you normally would by this.

“Jongseong isn’t going to do shit.” You smile, shifting to sit up and feeling more cum drip out of you. “I actually can’t wait to see the look on his face when I drag you to shower with me.”

Jake panics internally but he can’t stop himself from smiling at you with a nod.

And he does follow you into the bathroom. Straight past the bedroom of his glaring best friend with the wide open door.

He pretends to not hear the way the door slams when the two of you get into the bathroom, and desperately begins thinking of a way to make this work out for the better.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jay heard all of it. Every slap of a cock driving into you, every breath, moan, giggle, and every fucking dirty word the two of you shared.

He tries not to think of the way he slouched against his bedroom door, straining his ears to hear all of it too. He tries not to think of how his hand could never live up to whatever the fuck you were doing to Jake either.

Time and time again he could get off to the thought of you, but each time it just becomes more and more unbearable to see you face to face after. This time? Having to hear you with someone else? Someone that he, himself, was supposed to trust? It’s the most unbearable, and it hurts him inside to know that you liked it.

It isn’t fair that he was stuck, alone against his door, biting back moans of a situation he hated more than anything. His best friend was in there fucking the daylights out of the only girl Jay has ever wanted like this, and all he could do was fuck his fist and release a half-sobbed moan in his own silence over it?

Honestly, the orgasm hit him harder than he’s ever felt when he heard you moaning the name of his best friend. The stuttered breaths of Jake’s unfinished name sounded just like his name, and his brain went insane wondering if that’s what you’d sound like if his cock was pounding you.

Would you stutter like that for him? Would you moan out his name in such a pretty way too?

“Jay! Jay! Jay!”

It replayed in his mind over and over again up until he saw the two of you in the hallway. Jake appeared to be ashamed to look at him, avoiding his gaze.

Jay felt pathetic, angry, and entirely empty. Jake fucked up big time, betraying his trust just minutes after promising the opposite. There is so much shame within him right now, but none of it lives up to the fucking rage he feels towards Jake.

Never in his life has he ever felt so betrayed by not one person, but two. As if you knew you had such a hold on him to betray him at all, but still. It pisses him off more than anything that he still has to hear the two of you in the bathroom now, unashamed of what just happened behind your closed bedroom door like your parents aren’t just downstairs and probably aware of what their slut child was doing.

He seethes for what feels like hours. All the way until Jake slinks out of your room after the parents went to bed, and into the night without a word to him.

Days, even. As the sounds of you fucking Jake haunts him.

What’s worse? Jake ignores his texts even when he’s being nice. Inviting him over for a “lesson”, begging him to come talk, saying he isn’t angry he just wants to know where the deal stands. He ignores him even on his payday, which arguably, Jay wasn’t going to pay him this time but as a bribe to get him to talk to him? Of course he texted him again.

And with the way you’re leaving every other night, Jay can tell it’s because you’re going to see him outside of his control. Likely because Jake suggested it, and no part of him feels thankful that he can’t hear what the two of you are up to behind his back.

He could rip his hair out at this point, when each family dinner feels empty and filled with disgust. Looking at you and wondering what it must have felt like for Jake to get between those thighs that seem to open for just any man that would lie to you. You eat quietly, sometimes shooting him a happy smile as if you can’t tell that he’s rotting in front of you over the fact that you’re happy with someone that isn’t him.

He can barely look at you when you’re home without the thoughts flooding his brain, rendering him jealous and resentful of everyone in his life whether they’re involved in this situation or not. He doesn’t hold back remarks each time you come back home either, bright eyes with a sex glow surrounding you.

“Out spreading your legs again, I take it?” or “Can never get fucked enough, can you?”

He says them proudly to you, as if it’s any indication that he likes you far more than Jake ever could. But, to his dismay, you look happier and brush him off without a single furrowed brow or argument. You’ve been nicer, and you even walk with better posture now.

He wishes you would argue with him about how untrue his words are, but you don’t. Which renders him only further angry because you don’t deny it, and that you agree with him. The issue is that Jake is on the receiving end of why those words are true.

Jay only wants them to be true if he is on the receiving end.

He wants you to spread your legs every other day for him. He wants you to never be fucked enough….by him. Not by Sunghoon. Not by fucking Jake.

And then? Three long and agonizing days after Jake’s payday, he finally texts.

Jake: we need to talk.

Jay: come over then

Jake: no, i’m not coming back to your house until we talk.

Jay: yours then?

Jake: yeah

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Things were instantly awkward for Jay when he stepped through Jake’s door. It’s like he could tell you’ve been here recently by the feeling in the room alone. You always leave a room so alluring, so stupidly bright.

Jake even appears happier, much like you do when he manages to take note of how you act back at home.

Still, Jay doesn’t come too far into the house out of fear he may very well end up breaking things if it comes down to it. Instead, he stands in the doorway, shoes still tied on his feet, eyes still heavy with an exhaustion that only he can explain.

“I know you know what’s been going on,” Jake starts, raising his hands in defense as if to try and save both his friendship and new relationship. “I want you to know that I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but it did, and I want to at least tell you that I’d treat her right.”

Jay stares forward, feeling his imaginary monarchy fall. His gaze goes straight through Jake and to the room behind him as he listens to him say words that any sibling would love to hear. All he can feel right now is buzzing, goosebumps on his skin threatening his sanity over the fact that he's always gotten everything he ever wanted, except for you.

And he didn’t even want you like this until he knew he couldn’t have you.

“You promised me.” Jay starts with a harsh tone in his voice. “You went straight into her room and started fucking her? And now you have the audacity to ask me if you can date her?!” He bites out with angry brows, now clenching his fists.

Jake should have known better than to think he would be reasonable about this, given how he’s acted throughout the entire situation. Still, he’ll never stop thinking how fucking weird it is. How Jay is entirely protective over you despite consistently making sexual remarks, staring for a little too long, paying a stranger to date you just so you get away from your ex boyfriend.

For all Jake knows, if it wasn’t for you confirming the situation, he could argue Jay would have made up lies about Sunghoon being a bad boyfriend too.

Jay is jealous and Jake fucking sees it.

“You literally paid me to date her. So what if I actually want to be with her now? Why is that such a bad thing?!” Jake retorts, throwing his hands up as if everything Jay is saying doesn’t make any sense to a normal person.

Which is true.

“I paid you to pretend, not to actually want her!” Jay raises his voice again, despite being in Jake’s home, despite being his long time childhood friend. Over all, trying to appear more threatening as a means to regain his control.

“I don’t understand why you’re not okay with this.” Jake starts, much calmer than Jay. “What? You're gonna keep her from dating anyone ever again?”

Jay stands down at those words, knowing that if he could he would. Knowing that it must be incredibly telling to Jake, who isn’t as stupid as he acts.

“Why? You’re mad because you can’t be with her? And if you can’t, then no one can?” Jake adds with a smile.

Immediately Jay storms up to him, fisting Jake’s shirt collar in his hand.

“You think I want to be with trash like her?” He seethes out in a hot whisper, body telling on him in the way his words don’t match the defensive stance he takes. “I just don’t want you fucking my sister.”

“The deal is off, Jay.” Jake says in an even calmer tone, almost smiling. “Besides, I already fucked her.”

Jay intensely stares at him, anticipating the next word Jake says ending in a swift punch to the jaw.

“Multiple times.”

That breaks him.

What he thought would end in a physical altercation appears to be ending in his own begging. His own self-pity at how sad he is for himself over this overtakes every thought in his head. He is desperate to get you, and desperate to make sure Jake leaves and never comes back.

“I’ll pay you double what i’ve already paid to break up with her.” He bribes. “Triple.”

“You can’t just keep her, she doesn’t want you.” Jake continues, pressing all of the buttons of a friend he used to trust with his life. “She doesn’t even like you.”

Jay stands there, releasing the grip on Jake’s shirt and taking a step back. He knows Jake is right, and he hasn’t done anything to make you like him either, but still. Why does everyone else get parts of you that he can’t have?

“Jake, you’re misunderstanding.” He tries to reply in a calmer voice. “I’ve known her since freshman year and I’ve watched her get hurt. I don’t want anyone around her.”

Jake laughs at him. And honestly? It shocks Jay with the way his friend has changed in just a matter of weeks. It’s the fact that it’s his fault.

“You’re fucking weird, dude.” Jake continues to laugh. “You know me better than anyone and you don’t even want her to be with me? Of all people?”

Jay listens, trying to ignore how his truth has to come about another way. If Jake wants a fight over you, so be it.

“Sunghoon? Yeah, I get it but, the fact that you won’t even let me be with her? When is it what she wants?”

“Break up with her, this is my final warning.” Jay dead-pans.

“Or what?”

Jay stands there, directly in front of a friend he just threw away over a girl. Staring at him with such immense hate in his eyes that even Jake feels a shiver run down his spine.

He says nothing when he shoves past Jake and walks straight out the front door, only speaking before closing it with a “You have a week to break it off.”

Jake rolls his eyes at the words, shrugging at the situation despite knowing the sadness of losing a friend will hit sooner or later. Really though? Deep down, Jake knew that Jay had a thing for you after the way he’s been acting.

And it’s like, Jake knew he was bad at talking to girls but at least he doesn’t call them sluts and whores, or make them think he would rather be run over by a fucking tank than to say anything nice to them.

What’s worse is that he gets it. You’re entirely likable, lovable even, and it’s going to take a lot more than a couple of threats to pull Jake away from you. Likewise for Jay it seems. Step-siblings aside, there’s no way Jay didn’t have a crush on you before you became his step sister. Anyone would have a crush on you.

Still. That’s weird, and there’s nothing Jay can do to have you. With or without Jake, you’d never want him after the way he spoke to you. You’d never fuck family, nor would you ever be interested in a guy like him anyway.

At least with Jake’s false persona, he acted more like his true self than he meant to when he was around you.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A week goes by and there is no word of Jake ending it with you.

In fact, you’re still leaving every other night to see him, coming home with a little bounce in your step and a stupid fucking smile on your face. Jay can’t stand it anymore.

He thought a week was him being nice. Giving Jake, who he still cares about, mind you, enough time to come to terms that this will never work if Jay is around. Once again though, Jake didn’t listen. The once lost and intelligent guy now appears to know exactly what he wants in life and it’s so fucked up to Jay that it just so happens to be his girl.

A girl that isn’t really even his, and the only ownership he has over you is a title that makes him want to gag.

Step-sister.

Jay has come to terms by now that he is willing to end his longest friendship over you. He is willing to defy his own moral standards for you. He is willing to love you, touch you, and be anything you need. The only issue is the fact that he’s already fucked it up for himself.

Jake was right in saying you don’t even like him. Not as a friend, not as a step-brother, and certainly not as a boyfriend. It truly is his own fault too, but things can change.

And they will change.

“Why do you act like Jake is the best thing that’s ever happened to you?” Jay asks, leaning against the frame of your bedroom door with his arms crossed.

“Oh, am I?” You look down shyly, smiling because you can’t stop. “I guess I didn’t notice.”

Jay lends a short nod and a smile to himself, feeling more and more calm as the seconds pass and he steps into your room.

You, on the other hand, are elated tonight solely because of the date Jake took you on just the day before. He was so sweet, and so nice. Even going as far as eating you out in his car simply because he couldn’t resist, and missed you too much in the twenty four hour span of not seeing you previously.

You wish you could talk about it with Jay, you wish you could thank him for bringing Jake into your life and let whatever fucked-up relationship you have with him die so that it can be replaced with something more pleasant.

“Thank you, by the way.” You say meekly as he enters and wanders around your room, staring at several of Jake’s shirts hanging in your closet.

“Hm?” Jay responds off handedly, reaching into the closet to feel one of your soft t-shirts.

“Thank you for letting me meet Jake. I was shocked that day you invited me to eat with you guys, so I assumed it was to help with the whole Sunghoon situation. It did help, you know?” You smile fondly, thinking of your boyfriend and how nice he looks when he’s holding your hand.

“Ah–” Jay turns to look at you, letting one of your soft shirts fall from a hanger so that he can run his fingers through his hair with a stressed look up at your ceiling.

You watch as he takes in a deep sigh before hanging his head.

“Listen, I have something to tell you about Jake.” He finally says, walking to your door and closing it before sitting on your bed and looking at you with a serious expression.

“What is it?” You tilt your head at him.

He watches your face of confusion, seeing how heavy the feelings are that you’ve managed to grow for a man you were never meant to have feelings for. The way you swallow around a lump in your throat shows him that you’re going to listen to him, and possibly believe him.

For the first time, Jay isn’t going to be lying to you about Jake either.

“Jake is only dating you for the money I give to him every month.” Jay admits, knowing you’re about to bombard him with questions as to why he’s paying Jake to do it.

“What?” You question again, dead-pan staring at him.

“I paid him to date you because I trusted him not to be like Sunghoon, and you seemed really hurt by what happened.”

“What?!” You echo yourself, furrowing your brows at Jay and the way it’s the first time he’s ever looked at you in such a soft way. “How much?!”

“Two hundred a month. I dropped off his last payment last Sunday.” He lies.

You pause, reminding yourself that just the Saturday before he was holding you close to him on his couch, telling you all sorts of nice things that made your heart double in size.

“He only learned to play guitar because we thought it would be your type. Jake is more of a loser than I am. If you had met him just a day earlier, you wouldn’t have looked at him twice.”

You remain silent, listening to all of this fucked up information.

“Here pretty soon, he’s supposed to break up with you.”

And now your face is hot, and your eyes are burning. All of those words Jake said to you felt entirely genuine. The way he kissed you, touched you, and even the way he looked at you felt so real and electrifying.

There’s a part of you that doesn’t believe a word Jay is saying, but there’s also a part of you that wonders how much of it is true. You’ve seen Jake’s room and his selection of monotone and earth tone clothing that you’ve never seen him wear before.

“I don’t believe you.” You say, crossing your arms, looking away from Jay, then sniffling. “It would be so fucked up if you really paid some guy to pretend he liked me.”

Jay shakes his head in mock sadness for you.

“I set rules, you know? He wasn’t supposed to let it get so bad. He wasn’t supposed to sleep with you or even kiss you, I know that he did though.” Jay says, reaching a hand out to yours. “I keep seeing how happy you look and can’t stand that he’s doing this to you. I just wanted to help.”

You blink up at Jay.

“Why did you care so much to help me get over Sunghoon? So much that you’d pay Jake to do this?”

“Because I didn’t want to see you be taken advantage of. I see that it was a bad idea now though, because Jake definitely took advantage of you when he could.” He looks down, still in mock sorrow for you. “I wanted to punch him so bad when I paid him last time, with his stupid shit eating grin like he’s won the lottery or something.”

“Do you–” You pause, trying to process the information. “have proof?”

Jay nods, pulling up the few text messages he and Jake have sent about the situation.

Jay: do you think she fell for it? you completely changed vibes bro

Jake: yeah for sure i got a date tomorrow with her

Jay: if i knew it would be this easy i wouldn’t be paying you so much

Jake: money AND a girl? best deal ever.

Right then and there, upon reading those texts, the crying really does start. You question your ability to read feelings, body language, and words. You really thought Jake meant everything he said, and over all you’re just learning that…well, he’s a great liar.

“I know what I did was wrong, but I’m trying to make it right.” Jay soothes, scooting closer to you and hugging you against his chest. “I’m here whether you’re mad at me or not.”

You shove him away from you initially, but he uses his strength against you to hold you against him tightly. It’s the first time Jay has ever hugged you, the first time he’s ever comforted you while simultaneously being the cause of your shattered heart right now.

“Why are you like this?” You ask in a truly pathetic voice, raspy and full of overwhelming emotion that you don’t know what to do with. “Why did you have to do that?”

Jay takes in a deep breath, readying himself for whatever reaction you could possibly give to his next, very carefully thought out words.

“Because I’ve liked you since freshman year, and now you’re my sister.” He says in a sweet whisper against the top of your head. “Because you never noticed me before, and you barely do now, but I wanted to help your situation somehow without making it weird.”

He feels you cry harder against him now, your hands gripping his shirt without intention as you try and work through the even bigger flood of information now. It’s true that you didn’t notice Jay too much, and he never indicated any type of feeling for you. He could have been your type, if he had made an attempt to get to know you, but he never did. He became your step-brother instead. One who would do nothing but ridicule you and pay men to fuck you, apparently.

And as you cry, all you can do is raise that same gripping hand and land it harshly against his chest in a punch that feels weak to him. Over and over again, and he just takes it. Sitting there hugging you against him in a way that keeps your abuse weak and pathetic as you release the emotion on him.

“I would have been able to do more for you if it wasn’t for Jake taking advantage of my own weakness.” Jay now says, trying to land the final nail in Jake’s coffin for you. “In some way, I think I would have made you happier.”

Your attempts to hit the anger out of you fall short with each passing moment as your fingers find purchase back in his shirt, and the feeling of being enveloped by an apology overtakes you in full.

You can taste your tears against his shirt, feeling sorry for yourself for dampening him like this. Feeling sorry that he likes you and knowing you don’t like him back. Feeling sorry that the only person you’ve ever felt strongly for like this, never felt a thing back for you.

You’re worth two hundred dollars to both of them.

And when you pull back, feeling Jay allow you to pull away, you just stare at him with an empty and broken expression.

Jay can’t help but think you look even prettier with a broken heart. Mostly because he knows he’s the only person here who can fix it for you. He knows exactly what’s going through his mind when he leans forward and kisses you without hesitation.

You are shocked by the action, feeling unfamiliar lips on yours for just a moment before you’re shoving him back with a grimace.

“What the fuck?!” You yelp, baffled and entirely disgusted.

Jay says nothing as he stares at you as if he’s lost his mind. His mouth is slack when he looks at you and it’s a face that very nearly scares you. Especially when he takes your face in both of his hands and does it again.

A harsher kiss, with him holding you there against his lips, running his hands down to keep your body from pushing him away again.

“Let me make it better.” He pleads in a desperate whisper between his forced kisses. “Just this once.”

You’re not sure what’s happening right now, as you sit stiffly in his grasp, feeling him plead and kiss against you like a mad man. Wondering why you’re not fighting after hearing his broken voice. Wondering if he feels just as broken as you do right now.

This is your sibling by marriage, trying to give you something that he should not be giving you. Indulging you in truth, too much truth. And maybe you’re going a little crazy too, because you just let him.

And you let him, and let him, until he’s releasing his grip on your body forcing you to stay close to him, and gently caressing your face through his one sided kisses.

“Please.” He whispers just against your lips, pulling back a few inches to look at you.

And when you look at him this time, it feels raw. That’s the only way you can describe this situation of immense loss inside of you. Forced away from someone while being totally suffocated by another who only seemed to want to hurt you before all of this.

“Jongseong, no.” You warn, not entirely understanding why you don’t fully agree with your own words right now.

Maybe it’s because you want to be wanted, or needed, or loved at this moment.

“Don’t call me that.” He whispers, leaning forward again, kissing you on the corner of your mouth. “Why won’t you let me try?”

You take in a deep breath, wondering the same thing.

Because he’s your brother?

Because he paid Jake to break you more than Sunghoon ever has?

Because you want to let him try, solely to numb yourself from everything else for the night?

“I–” You start, staring forward and straight through him. “I don’t know.”

He smiles, spreading his legs wide beside you to adjust himself solely because he got to feel your lips on his. His hands stay against your face as he looks at you through this, and notes only slightly the way you reach your hands up to grip his biceps.

“You don’t?” He asks. “Why do you throw yourself at everyone but me then?”

Those are words that should hurt you more than he already has, but they don’t. He’s not wrong. If you were more careful of the people you lend your body to for pleasure, maybe you wouldn’t continue to get hurt. Maybe everything he’s done really has taught you how to pick and choose better people.

Sunghoon, Jake, and now him.

Now him.

It feels so final, like a last hurrah of hating yourself before you decide to never let another man into your heart again. You won’t date Jay, you won’t even think of him as someone you could be with solely due to the circumstances.

But for some reason, there is something you will do and that happens to be living up to all of those insults he threw at you before. Dumb, whore, slut.

And you’ll do those things solely to make yourself feel better right now. Sex isn’t healing but when a person appears to want you this badly, it kind of is in its own way. A reminder that at least you’re wanted on some level, especially when you’re running circles in your head over what it could be that you keep doing wrong.

This time, Jay is shocked when you’re the one who leans forward, your hands falling from his biceps straight to his hands over your face. You cry when you kiss him, feeling utterly insane that you’re doing this, not knowing why you’re going to keep pushing, and absolutely ignoring that you’ll regret it.

“If you want to fuck me so bad, just do it then.” You say, more as an insult to him, yourself, and the entire situation.

What’s worse is, you said that so Jay would pull back and come back to his senses. Anyone who hears those words should know that it’s an all or nothing question. Any decent person, any selfless person would deny fucking you in this state.

And while you want him to fuck you at this point, just to prove how badly he’s wanted to, you equally wanted him to just be here for you in the way he was supposed to.

Jay doesn’t pick up on the cue though, and instead jumps right in. Kissing you back and pulling you down with him against your mattress.

The bed feels less pretty with Jay lying in it with you, but his lips work better than Jake’s did the first time he kissed you so messily. You don’t mind only because you don’t care about a single outcome at this point.

Everything bad that could happen to you has already happened.

Jay wants you to like it though. He wants you to like everything about him. Even the aspects about himself that he can’t stand. And he kisses you in a way to try and force this outcome.

Jake is still in the front of his mind though, as he takes his girl back on the same bed where Jake presumably took you away to begin with.

And you’re so pretty too, with your tear stained cheeks kissing him in an angry way. Jay couldn’t be happier that you’ll take this out on him. He deserves it, doesn’t he? To be hated? Hated enough to be kissed by you? It’s wonderful, really.

He stays like this with you for as long as he can, the fear of it stopping fizzling out with each passing minute that you only kiss harder, harder, harder. Up until he can’t stand the feeling of his cock in his pants, up until he can’t help but feel you up, relishing in your hot skin and the way you still shiver probably through the chill in your heart right now.

His hand lands under your shirt, pulling your bra down just so he can eagerly circle his fingers around one of your nipples. Thinking so hard about the tits he’s wanted to see bare for so long, feeling it perk up against his finger in reaction.

He throbs at it, even if you won’t make eye contact with him between kisses. Even if you kiss him like you mean it but clearly don’t. He’s taking what he can get, taking what you’ll give to him.

“I heard you guys, you know.” Jay says, pinching your nipple before rolling on top of you just to dig his length against your leg. “You seemed so happy to gag on him, why aren’t you like that for me?”

You ignore his words, trying not to moan at the thickness you feel in his pants. Never once have you thought about what Jay could be packing, but it’s…bigger than you probably would have expected. Feeling it against you breaks that final barrier in your brain keeping you from being entirely turned on by the lack of morals you’re sharing with him.

This is the first thing you’ve ever shared with Jay outside of an argument.

“Can you stop talking?” You ask in a huff, breath hitching when he adjusts his hips between your legs and rubs himself against the center of your heat. “It’s pissing me off.”

“Mm, I bet.” He smiles, using both hands to push your shirt and bra up to your collarbones, revealing your chest to him. He grabs both of them without hesitation, and studies the way they fit in his hand. “I’m trying to fix this right now though.” He nods to himself, smirking the same smirk he always gives you when he’s being an asshole and squeezing the tit that rests above your heart.

You’re angry that you like it. You enjoy the way he grips tighter, and ruts himself harsher against you. Almost more desperately than Jake did. Rougher, so much rougher.

“You can’t fix what’s happened.” You groan out, annoyed and equally as aroused. “So, stop trying.”

“Getting you wet can fix it.” He says, leaning back and placing both hands on your knees, spreading your legs wide. He stares at you and the dismay on your face, then down between your legs. It doesn’t take much convincing from him though, to have you bucking your hips up against your own will.

You never knew Jay could be so confident or dirty.

And when he backs up just to take off your bottoms in one swift motion, you don’t even hide your face. Because you don’t care what you look like right now, or what he sees. You’re already past the boundary and at this point your body wants what it wants.

Quite frankly, you hope he fucks the morals right out of you. You hope he fucks the emotion out of you, and renders you a shell of a person that can no longer feel pain in any capacity.

“Well, well, well.” Jay gloats as he gets back between your legs, noting how you’re already wet. Not entirely wet, but definitely turned on. “Can’t believe you’re wet for your own brother.”

You roll your eyes, wishing he’d stop focusing on that. You’re barely related. Just by marriage, anyway.

“Stop talking.” You argue.

And, well, for the first time he listens to you.

If you knew you could shut him up by putting a pussy in his mouth, perhaps you would have done this sooner. Then again, you likely wouldn’t have considered it before now.

Anything he could say to you right now is muffled, and all you can hear are groans and grunts each time he tries to lick straight into you. Through you almost. His tongue is just as harsh as everything else, neglecting your clit and going straight for what he wants in his mouth.

He licks and laps at you without shame, knees planted on the floor and fingers spreading you open against his lips. His eyes stay open though, staring up at you, only blinking slowly when he gets a taste of something particularly sweet.

You try not to reach down like you always seem to do for Jake. You really do try, but it’s like an instinct thing, you guess. You find your fingers in his hair, gripping the strands much harsher than you usually would this time.

If he’s rough, you can be rough too, right?

You drag him up by his hair, listening to his shameless moan of pleasure at how you treat him. You plant his face directly against your clit, and he’s just as harsh with his tongue against it. Flicking it, swirling his tongue around it, side to side, up and down, before he circles his lips around it and sucks with another one of his embarrassingly sexy moans.

Something about him liking this to the full extent is so good. It’s so wrong, but it’s so, so, fucking good.

And as you hold him there, his fingers slide into you as if he knows exactly how to do it. You’re shocked that he does, actually. With someone so invisible to the world to anyone but himself, he must have gotten plenty of practice in with all of the snooty book-smart girls back on campus.

You hate to admit that they’re kind of lucky. Jay is clean with it. Goes straight for the pleasure spots and doesn’t fuck around at all. Sunghoon was always messy with his fingers, smiling and playing with you and the way you’d whine for him to hit a particular spot again. Jake, on the other hand, would never know where to land his fingers, but he’d find it and keep hitting it when you’d make that one specific sound.

Jay knows where it is, and he knows he does.

You know he does.

To the point that you can’t help the moans that fall from your lips. Almost as shameless as he is, avoiding the fact that you do like this. You do like the entire situation that surrounds it. After all, you’d never get fucked like this is it wasn’t from Jay, right? If he didn’t go off and set you up for failure first, right?

Fuck Jay.

Quite literally. Fuck him for being so good at ruining everyone.

“I hate you.” You whisper between moans, already feeling the tears bubble up again. You hate him so much, and you hate everything about how he really could have been something had he tried before.

You hate that it feels so good.

You hate that he chuckles at your words, vibrating his voice against your clit and making you shiver.

You can’t stand that he can fit three fingers into you with ease, proving how wet you are for him.

And even more do you hate the way he pulls back, staring up at you as he quickens his fingers, hitting that same spot, over and over again with a filthy smirk on his glistening lips.

“Hate me all you want,” He says in a smooth voice, listening to the sounds of how wet you are gushing out and against his palm. “You seem to love what I can do for you.”

You groan out again, from deep in your chest as you try to close your legs around him, as if to push him out of you but you can feel the way he easily keeps one of your legs spread out and open, preventing the act.

And as he listens to the sounds of your body, it all clicks in his head. It’s no wonder Jake wanted to be with you so bad. The taste of you, the smell, the sounds your body emits to be fucked? He wouldn’t let anyone take you from him. Sunghoon too, no wonder he kept coming back. That girl he always fucks during the summers surely doesn’t stand a chance against you.

No one could look so sweet and sound so arousing like this but you. Not a single other person in this world could have his cock straining against his pants like this over the act of giving head. If anything, Jay hates giving head. But you’re clean.

You taste sweet.

He could eat you out for days.

“God, just fucking look at you.” He groans to himself when he stares at his three fingers plunging into you, hitting that same spot since he started.

He can feel the squeeze of your pussy around his fingers each time he drives them in deep, pushing them together. And you only squeeze more and more as he does it. He knows exactly what this means.

“Already?” He asks snidely. “Just from my fingers?”

You stay silent only because you couldn’t speak if you wanted to. Never has a man assaulted your g-spot so well before, and you’ve felt it building up this entire time. Your whole body feels weak, your eyes feel fogged over, your brain is going numb as you relish in the pleasure rather than the reality just outside of it.

“Fuck, Jay.” You manage to get out, not even shocked that you just said his name in regards to this situation.

Nothing shocks you anymore.

And it’s like music to his ears to hear you sing his name in pleasure. It’s not a stutter of Jake’s name this time. It’s really his name, and he feels so fucking elated by it. He fucks his fingers in faster through the eagerness of hearing you willingly say that to him. He even dips down, his shoulders keeping your legs open just so he can lick around the same hole his fingers are stretching out, and right there is where he wills for you to come.

He wants to feel it drip against his tongue, he wants his fingers and face to be fucking soaked in you and all of that hate you claim you have for him.

It’s not a shocker to him that you do, either. He knows how to touch a pussy, you’re not a puzzle for him. But at least your cum is sweeter than he’s ever tasted. He laps it up like a fucking dog, moaning through it as you hold your breath. Your legs shake, your cunt clenches, your clit throbs, and he’s the reason for all of it.

He works you through it so well, to the point that you’re out of breath and looking at him as if he is your boyfriend. Only now do you wish that your mother didn’t have to go off and marry his dad. You could have easily dated this asshole just for the way he gives head and uses his fingers alone.

Yeah, maybe you are a slut.

“Mm, I heard that.” He coos out, licking up the last of your orgasm before lifting and resting his head just below your belly button. “You moaned my name.”

You’ve never seen him smile like this. His eyes have never looked so bright before. You’re mad that he looks attractive between your legs, with his lips dripping in your own arousal. You hate that you like it.

“I did.” You say, leaving no room for him to respond.

After all, he probably said that just to try and get a rise out of you.

“You’re going to do it again, you know.” He responds anyway, now standing and reaching for the button on his pants. “And again.”

You watch him, not wanting to believe that you’ll be moaning his name again tonight. Thinking that this is the end of it, though you should have known better. He’s going all the way.

“Roll over.” He says now, almost demanding in a way that makes you immediately follow the direction.

You roll over perfectly for him, presenting an already fucked and pulsing hole for him to rub up and against. He actually has to blink up at the ceiling with a deep breath before really getting a good look at this angle.

A perfect ass, perfect cunt, all wet and willing for him of all people. You’re right where you belong at this moment. Against your bed, with his cock out and ready to fuck you until you forget Jake ever existed.

“Damn.” He comments, thumbing at your pussy lips and gripping himself with the other hand. “Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror like this?”

That’s a weird question, but yeah.

Still, you don’t nod or answer. You just stuff your face into the very same pillow that Jake laid against the day you straddled him. If you breathe in hard enough, you can almost smell him on it.

“I’m sure you have.” Jay answers for himself, now spreading your cheeks and getting a good look at both holes.

Then, he leans forward, takes off his shirt, and slaps his cock against your swollen lips. Over and over again, watching the strings of your previous orgasm connect him to you. He pushes, and pushes, rubbing it between your lips and relishing in the image of his cock against you.

Where it fucking belongs.

And then he’s releasing a string of saliva, letting it drop directly onto the head of his length before he pushes the tip in.

God, he’s thick. Just the head alone feels so much bigger than you’ve had before and it’s a bit unfamiliar. Because, of fucking course it is.

Still, he stays like that. Pushing his tip in, out, in, out.

Over and over again, giving you small sighs from his throat at the feeling until you can’t fucking stand it anymore.

You’re the one who pushes back, slipping another inch of him into your tight and wet walls, gripping your sheets much the same way Jake did when you went down on him.

“Fuuuuck,” Jay moans out slowly, using both hands to spread your cheeks and get a good look at the way you’re the one who wants more. “Didn’t expect you to be this tight, baby.”

You ignore his words, knowing they’re more insulting than you need to hear right now.

And then, you feel his hand move to the small of your back and push a perfect arch out of you, his other hand pushing forward to grip your tit. He slides all the way in this time, bottoming out before staying in place just to feel you adjust around him.

“Let me feel how tight you really are then,” He smiles from behind you, finger flicking your nipple and flexing his cock inside of you. “Squeeze it.”

You clench on demand, not because he asked for it, but because the feeling of his fingers on your nipple forces you to do it. It’s a slight pleasure that always shoots straight to your pussy and you can’t fucking help the moan. You’ve always been weak to have your nipples played with, and Jake really indulges you in that. Jay is doing the same without even fucking knowing what it does to you.

“Goddamn, I just know they’ll miss you.” Jay breaks out in a moan, boasting about having his cock in you and feeling the way your perfect cunt jerks it off for him. “Wouldn’t let anyone fuck this pussy again,” He continues to ramble to you, spilling out his filthy desires. “My pretty slut of a sister, giving it to me like this?”

You gasp when he finally moves, pulling out nearly all the way before stuffing you full again.

“Finally letting me see what all the hype was about?” He degrades, keeping his pace slow just to hear you give into his words with each moan. “I’ll give it to you, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You nod against your will, never realizing that maybe you like being called these names. Jay, once so quiet and stoic, now talking to you in a way you never could have imagined. You don’t know why it’s so hot. You won’t think too hard into it, nor will you ever bring this shit up again either.

“Wouldn’t you?” He repeats, leaning down against your ear. “I’ll be the one to fuck you the way you need, won’t I?”

His hips pick up at that point, driving those long and languid strokes into you at a quicker pace, with so much ease and confidence that you almost find it hard to think he’s lying. Maybe the only person you shouldn’t be fucking really is the only one who could fuck you the way you need it.

“Jay,” You hiccup against your pillows, trying to lift, but his hand only pushes you further down, keeping that perfect arch for him to hit your g-spot much like he did with his fingers. “Jay,” You try again, wanting to say something and not yet having the ability.

“That’s right.” He encourages you through his own stifled grunt, putting all the force in his body behind his thrusts now. “Say it.” He continues, now moving the hand from your tit to your hair, forcing your head back and your arch to reach pure agony.

God, that slight change in position nearly does him in. The way you gasp out and let him force you into a shape that only a gymnast could achieve. So flexible. So slutty. You’re perfect.

“God, Just fucking say it again.” He groans, now releasing your hair and gripping your ass, forcing you to ride back on him, trying to memorize the way your pussy walls hug around him, trying to memorize the way you moan for him, the way you’re wet for him, the way he’s finally fucking you.

“Jay–” You moan out, lifting on your arms yourself this time, ruining the arch but pleasing him all the same when you bounce back, to the point that he’s chuckling out his groans and biting his bottom lip to the point he may actually be bleeding.

You are truly so unbelievable to him.

“So needy for dick.” He tuts, trying to keep his composure as he stares down at the scene of you riding against him. “Just gonna ride me like the filthy slut I always knew you were?”

You hiccup, chasing the pleasure for yourself and you alone. Loving the numbness in your brain right now, and the way his cock pulses inside of you. You feel like you could burst with every color of emotion you’ve ever felt in your life, but you refrain.

You bounce back harder, harder, harder, until your knees buckle and he slips out of you when you fall flat back onto your stomach.

He thinks it’s cute though, in the way you fucked against him until you couldn’t anymore. Rendering your body a melted mess of a woman, where he can easily move you to roll over, and take you for all your worth. So he can fuck you better than anyone ever has, so he can remind you that while you’re dirty, and give yourself to just about anyone, you’re proud to have given it to him too.

And as you lay there, staring up at him when he pushes your legs up to your chest, slipping right back into you with a pornographic moan of his own, you can’t help but see him as anyone other than Jay.

He’s too attractive, he fucks too good.

Except it is Jay. You’ve moaned his name. It’s his cock inside of you, he’s the reason you’re so close to your second orgasm.

And goddamn, do you need it.

You need it so much that your fingers leave marks against his shoulders as you try to hold onto him. All you can hear are his breaths of the words “Yes.” and “Mhm.” encouraging you to scratch him harder and deeper as he fucks into you.

He knows you feel good, mostly because of the way you finally make eye contact with him, and the way you look at him as if you want him to be the one fucking you right now over anyone else.

“You really are just–” He starts, in awe at how pretty. “So fucking pretty.” He laughs this time, slamming his hips into you at a pace that forces small moans out of you with each pointed thrust.

And you are shocked by his sudden kind words. This whole time you never could have guessed he had some weird little crush on you, and event through him fucking you, you couldn’t tell. But now he suddenly wants to say you’re pretty?

You don’t get him. Nor do you even care to understand, because what he’s doing right now is enough to distract you from the inevitable situation that will follow.

You remain silent save for the few moans you offer, trying to focus solely on the way his cock splits you open. And man, he really does fuck hard. Each slam into you feels like you’re seeing stars, to the point that you can feel your throat go dry from your slacked lips.

To the point your tits are squished under your legs painfully.

To the fucking point that the saliva that does collect in your mouth only falls out of the corners of your mouth.

Jay is so quick to catch it too, leaning down and squishing your tits even more painfully as he licks up each dribble and revels in the warmth of your mouth. He doesn’t kiss you though, no, no. He likes seeing you cock-drunk for him too much.

You’re really letting him fuck you, and you’re really just letting him do whatever he wants? All it took was losing Jake as a friend? He’d do it over and over again just to experience this in all the different ways he could imagine.

And as he thinks about it, with your pussy clenching him so tightly, he finally releases your legs and focuses on getting you off once more. He lands his fingers right between your legs, aggressively rubbing your clit in time with each of his breathless thrusts.

He’s out of breath by this point, sweating, and his hair is falling against his face only to stick to his forehead as he gives it to you the way you deserve. He wills it out of you, unsatisfied if he can’t get you to come at least twice on him.

Then, he encourages it.

“Come on, baby–you’re close, right?” He grunts, already feeling dangerously close to his own orgasm. “Let me feel it,” He continues, staring straight into your eyes as if he’s telepathically forcing the orgasm out of you. And it works, he can feel the clench become suffocating around his length, forcing his own eager orgasm to the surface.

“Fuck, yeah, this is what you wanted.” He nods to himself frantically, fingers stuttering against your clit as he grinds his cock into you as deep as he can manage, holding it there as he witnesses your second orgasm along with his own.

And both of you are whispering moans and strings of “fuck” and “goddamn” and even a few of his name.

It only drove his orgasm to keep spurting out of him far past your own high. You feel it, and you watched him do it. He didn’t pull out, nor did he even ask if he needed to. He fills you to the brim and only keeps going, lending short thrusts as if to push the cum deeper and deeper into you until he’s entirely drained and spent.

There, he pulls out without a single glance to you before he falls onto your bed, letting the mess on his cock seep into your sheets. That’s when he looks at you, out of breath and sparkly eyed as he pushes his hair out of his face.

He fucking smiles at you.

“Feel better?” He asks through deep breaths, reaching his hand up to your cheek and caressing it as if he actually cares.

“No.” You say numbly, feeling more hollow than you did before giving in to the temptation of a situation so fucked up. “I feel worse now.”

“Aww,” He coos, lifting on his elbow to look at you. “You should’ve told me, I could have kept going.”

You stare at him, unsure of how you feel about any of this. Certainly not wanting it to happen again, but somehow knowing that it very well might.

On your terms.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Things are weird after Jay goes back to his room. He even cleaned you up a little bit using one of Jake’s old shirts with a chuckle. Even nodded to you, saying you should give it back to him unwashed when he inevitably breaks up with you.

It made you cry the instant he finally left you alone. Which is so fucked up because you couldn’t even tell if you wanted to be alone or not. You almost wanted him to stay and pretend to love you for a little longer despite how wrong it was.

At the end of the day though, Jay got what he wanted, and you’re still here having to clean up the trail of destruction he leaves behind him.

The first thing you need to do is talk to Jake and lay it out straight to him. You want to tell him you know the truth, but most of all you want to ask why he did it. You want to know why he was so good at lying, and you deserve to know if any of it at all was real.

Because if he so much as nods his head that any of it was real, you’d never talk to Jay again. In fact, you’d never even look at him again. Especially after what just happened. Regardless of if you liked it, regardless of if Jake really did lie to you, you’d tell Jake everything.

Even if it makes you weird for letting Jay fuck you. Even if it’s weird that you fucked yourself against him.

You’d give everything to Jake if he’d accept it, and all you can do now is hope that somehow this situation is flipped on its head.

Though there’s no way it could be.

So, you lay there, alone in your bed wishing so much that you had someone to tell you that everything will be okay.

The last thing you needed was for that person to be fucking Sunghoon.

The bright and unknowing text makes you cry harder, but you still respond to it.

Because at the end of the day, you really are dumb.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Approaching Jake the next day felt like a whirlwind of emotion in your chest. Wondering if everything Jay said was true, wondering if it’s a lie.

You don’t think you’ve ever hoped more for anything. For Jake to explain it all, for him to make promises and never break them. For him to still want you even if you don’t want yourself.

He sees your face fall the second you look at him. You look nervous, scared, maybe even a bit broken. Which is insane compared to how you normally look at him, or act around him. He immediately panics too, especially when you don’t lift up and kiss him like usual.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, sitting with you in his driveway after a silent drive over. “Things feel really weird and I’d rather you just tell me now because I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“Jay told me everything.” You say, voice breaking throughout each word as you try your damndest to keep the tears from falling and making you look more pathetic than you already do.

Jake is silent when he hears you say that. Reminding himself of the threats Jay threw at him last week, and wondering why he, himself, didn’t try to work things out further with Jay so the truth wouldn’t have come out this way.

You probably hate him. After all, this whole relationship is based on a lie, but that doesn’t mean he lied about his feelings. Because he fucking meant everything.

“Can we go inside to talk about it?” Jake asks gently, turning to you in a timid stance, seemingly curling in on himself. He reaches out to you, but you flinch away, not wanting to be touched by anyone. “Please?”

You try to look at him but the second you do, the tears well up to the point you’d rather just go back home. You feel so tired. Your legs are sore from what Jay did with you, your heart is sore from what Jay told you, and your really, really, just want to sleep it all away.

“Did he really pay you?” You ask through your tears, shifting closer and closer to the door just to create distance so you can breathe.

“Please, just come inside.” Jake pleads, face flushed and heart buzzing at the fear of losing you.

Angry over the fact that Jay would really stoop so low.

“No.” You dead-pan, staring out the window. “I don’t want to go inside with you.”

That really shatters Jake. Entirely, actually, in the way you say it so confidently. He knows you deserve answers though, and you’re probably sick of people toying with you and your little frail heart strings.

“Okay.” He says in a sigh, breathing out and pushing himself against the back of his driver’s seat before turning to look at you again. “He did pay me, but I need you to tell me what he said to you.”

You feel that last bit of hope dissolve with his confirmation. Why does it matter now what Jay said? It’s probably true, right?

It takes you a few minutes to regain composure, crying hot and salty tears next to a man on the verge of breaking someone’s arm over this.

“He said he paid you to get me away from Sunghoon. That you lied the whole time, and that you were planning to break up with me soon.”

In that instance, Jake sees red.

You can hear him breathe through his nose trying to control how badly he wants to raise his voice, not at you, but at Jay. Jay isn’t here though, no. Jay is at home, daydreaming about how he had you once and for all, and the way he set it up for Jake to have no room to wiggle again.

You hear Jake call your name, trying to get you to look at him, but you can’t. You try to keep your eyes out the window, solely because you refuse to look at him if he can’t come up with some type of excuse for you to cling onto.

Jake is good at lying though, you remind yourself.

“I didn’t lie the whole time.” He starts, leaning himself back against the seat of his car and trying to think up a way to explain it that doesn’t make him look worse than he already does. “There’s no way I can explain this without it making me look bad but–” He stops, lifting in his seat and reaching for you, forcing you to look at him. “I only lied to you about wanting to start a band, everything else was real. I stopped taking his money. I tried to tell him the deal is off because I want to be with you, I–”

You look at him this time, letting the information sit right in the center of your brain.

“He got mad when I told him I didn’t want to break up. He offered to pay me triple to do it, then threatened me when I ignored him.”

Maybe he’s not lying.

“I’ve known him since childhood, I only took this deal because I thought he was genuinely just trying to get you away from some asshole. But when he didn’t even want me to be with you, I realized–”

“He fucked me, you know?” You say, shaking your head with a sad laugh. “I let him. I don’t know why but, I did.”

Jake freezes, his apologetic tone leaving his body in an instant.

“Are you fucking joking right now?” He asks, clenching his fists before loosening them to grab your face on both sides. “I need you to understand that I lied to you before I knew you. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

You stare forward in a numb way, feeling his warm hands caress your cheek like it doesn’t look like he wants to murder someone right now.

“I don’t care if you slept with him. He’s the one who took advantage of you, not me.”

Only now do you think your tears dry up, choosing to believe Jake, choosing to hate Jay. Both with all of your being.

“I need you to promise me not to tell anyone.” You say with a hollow voice. “I need you to make a lot of promises to me after this if you still want me.”

“Wha-” Jake is dumbfounded by your words. “If I still want you?!” He continues, that angry expression now turned at you. “You think I don’t want you now? Because my own best friend decided to become a piece of shit? This isn’t your fault.”

You feel lighter at those words, your legs feel less sore, your heart starts beating at a pace that you can hear.

“I let him though.” You say, trying to look away but feeling Jake hold your face and keep it from moving. “I believed him over you.”

Jake nods, softening his features in an instant when he lunges forward to kiss you.

“Let’s just– let’s go inside, okay?”

You nod slowly, feeling slightly dissociated about all of this, especially with the way your entire life and moral status shattered within the span of a day and a half.

And when Jake walks you inside, he sits with you on the couch with no indication of taking advantage of you. He looks just as hurt and confused as you do despite being Jay’s co-conspirator at one point.

“Sunghoon texted me.” You add to the whirlwind of mishaps. “I responded, but then he ghosted me again.”

Jake nods, listening to you before the room falls heavy and silent. The only comfort you feel comes from the warmth of his side pressed against yours.

“I really hope you believe me when I say I meant all of what I’ve said to you. If I was really going to break up with you and do what he wanted me to do, I wouldn’t have slept with you.”

You pause.

“You wouldn’t have?”

Jake shakes his head, proving to you time and time again that he is nothing but a man who cares about how other people feel. If he were to continue the deal and have no feelings for you by the end of it, you genuinely believe the blow would have hurt less because he would have made sure of it.

“As much as I wanted to sleep with you from day one, I wouldn’t have if I wasn’t as attached to you as I was, or still am.”

Everything always feels better when Jake is the one talking, explaining, navigating. It’s like there’s nothing in the world he can’t do. A situation that felt like it couldn’t be fixed, suddenly feels mended and unbelievably stupid to you.

Jay is pathetic, and you gave in to the way he spoke to you, you gave him what he wanted, and what did he do? Smile because he got his way? Chuckle at your pain? Get off on it, even? God, you’re so stupid.

“I believe you.” You finally breathe out, feeling an immense amount of weight lifting off of you. “What should we do, then?”

“Piss him off? What? He doesn’t have anything on me after this anyway. He isn’t gonna run and tell your mom he slept with you or anything, I know for a fact his dad would beat his ass.”

You chuckle, which feels morbidly uncanny to do right now, but you worried you’d never be able to crack a smile again.

“So, what else then? What else did you lie to me about?” You ask, blinking away lighter tears now.

“My gpa isn’t a 2.1.” He looks away, feeling bad that he lied to you at all. “It’s a 4.3.”

Oh. A smart boy.

“I don’t usually paint my nails or wear ripped clothes, and I’m kind of a loser. I’ve only slept with like two girls before you.” He continues, looking at you with sparkling eyes. “I think I like this look on me though, so in a way I wasn’t even lying about my fashion sense past the first day, if I’m being honest.”

You smile, reminding yourself of how genuine he felt when you were with him back then.

“Only two girls?” You pin point that quick statement he made. “I definitely wouldn’t have guessed.” You laugh sarcastically, sniffling a bit due to the sheer amount of crying you’ve been doing.

Jake rolls his eyes at you.

“Isn’t that proof enough to know I wouldn’t have done any of this with bad intentions?”

You smile, nodding, feeling like you’re worlds away from the pain you felt this morning.

“I can’t believe he did that.” You finally let out, leaning closer to Jake and gripping onto his arm as if you need more balance. He lets you, feeling happy but still angry at the man who used to be his most beloved friend.

“I’d like to say the same, but unfortunately I’m not shocked.” Jake shakes his head in pity a Jay, the guy who thinks he has it all. “He’s always been awful to other people, but never to me until now.”

You nod in agreement.

“I barely noticed him before my mom decided to marry his dad. It’s going to be hard going back to campus without you. He’s probably going to sabotage me more or something.”

“Nah,” Jake shakes his head languidly. “4.3 GPA remember?” He continues, wrapping both arms around you and hugging. “I could transfer.”

And for some reason, you can’t help but feel excited knowing Jay may have had you once, but he will never have you again. You can’t wait to see the look on his face with Jake rolls up on campus, tainting any plan to get close to you. Even more? You know Sunghoon will be fuming to know he fucked around and found out.

After all, with your mother so lovey dovey with Jay’s dad, you could always spend the summer with Jake instead. Leaving Jay all alone, where he fucking belongs.

#enhypen smut #sim jaeyun smut #park jongseong smut #jake smut #jay smut

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