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#sometimes I think about this a little too hard and then gross myself out
chibishortdeath · 7 months
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Alright I’ve thought about it a bit, let’s rant about just how horrifying the curse Simon was afflicted with would be! Consider this like a part one of sorts for Simon’s Quest analysis stuff cause I could talk about this one game for hours on end—
I’m gonna put a cut here because warning ⚠️ descriptions of decay, gorey stuff, disease, and some pretty bad mental effects. Stay safe guys, don’t read further if you can’t handle those topics!
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I’ve seen multiple different descriptions of it from different media and manuals, but, just from this little line alone, this is already a pretty awful fate for the guy. High emphasis on the word decay. That in itself can imply a lot of different things, sometimes all at once. And keep in mind too, he’s had this over the course of 7 years. Simon is probably already an absolute wreck from this wayyyyy before the game even starts.
First of all, getting hit on the back is a bad spot for any kind of infection or spreading disease (closest irl counterpart). That’s awfully close to a lot of vital things you don’t want something spreading to including the spine, lungs, heart, etc etc. Especially for deeper cuts because we’re talking Dracula level injury here, not like a paper cut or something. Hell, too deep of a hit on the back might cause some nerve damage, not to the extent of paralysis in his case, but general chronic pain from a wound that won’t heal properly is uhhh… not great. :( I’ve also seen some media say that the curse causes wounds to not heal, bleeding, the American manual even mentions it effecting the soul, awful stuff. I generally like to think “Bloody Tears” is referring to Simon tbh.
Another thing, with afflictions that cause decay generally the smaller appendages start getting hit hard with it first. It’s the same way for a lot of other conditions; fingers, toes, earlobes, anything protruding like that because the body considers them lowest priority in a survival situation like that and it wouldn’t kill you to lose them. Necrosis especially has things start turning ruddy colors, blacken, and start forming holes in the layers of skin (@ @ ;). Obviously this alone is excruciating. Poor dude has to walk for days on end like that…
And slowly deteriorating could also imply some form of wasting. Fats usually go first, then muscle, which is also very not good when you’ve gotta beat the clock to survive. Scary thing is that the brain is like 60% fats and not immune to any of this whoops—
Something I don’t really see anyone consider very often when talking about the curse (not that I’ve seen many people talk about this 💀) is how absolutely mentally fucked up Simon would be from it. Just the terror of knowing you’re slowly rotting to death would be enough to drive most people into some kind of despair or panic, but seeing and feeling all the gruesome details of it is even worse. Being in constant pain and stress isn’t good for anyone, especially someone who is already weakened from illness. But the sheer mental deterioration this guy would be having from the decay itself oh my god (0_o ). Looking up widespread brain shrinkage like that and uh some of the early signs are already stuff like seizures and extreme headaches. Add the fact that he doesn’t really sleep much for upwards of 7 days and it’d be an absolute miracle if this guy wasn’t hallucinating and/or completely hysterical by this point among other things. I mean, no wonder so much of this game is running around lost and confused, not only are people lying to his face, Simon is probably just barely keeping his shit together the whole time.
So just imagine for a second all of these things combined. No wonder people were terrified of him, he probably genuinely looked like a corpse. Eeeee yikes yikes ouch, poor guy :’’’’’(.
Anyway, Konami where is my horror focused Simon’s Quest remake you cowards—
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beatrixstonehill2 · 5 months
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"Is my punishment almost over?" Emily asked her boyfriend, Joey.
"No, not yet, baby girl..... I think you need to learn your lesson a bit longer."
"But....! The tournament is in a month. How can I perform like this?"
"Not my problem.... You should've thought of that before being such a naughty girl, Emily."
Joey wasn't wrong, in a way..... Almost a year ago he started dating an Olympic silver medalist gymnast, who was known the whole world over for her skill and dexterity. Shortly after dating her, though, he was sent something damning by a random person online.... At the time, Emily was basically flat chested, yet had a cute butt and tended to give the cameras sensual, flirty looks, often blowing kisses and winking at the camera, sometimes bending over unnecessarily to give the people filming her something to zoom in on.....
Turns out when pervy guys reblogged these clips and admitted to masturbating to her performance, she would reply, happily encouraging them. On her official account, zero shame, her with the silver medal as her avatar. She'd tell these random men to 'milk their cocks good' and 'cum real hard for her tight little ass', like some porn star. Joey saw this and was very amused..... So, he decided Emily had to be punished--badly. He told her she had to obey him and take breast growth pills, to give the next national gymnastics tournament before the Summer Olympics a good show.
"I'm sorry, Joey..... you know I can't help myself. I love to flirt."
"Which just tells me how badly you need to be punished. Look at this one I found! Some random married guy posted that he wants to throw you in his van, hogtie you, and put 'a pile of kids in your pretty gut'. Did you block him....?"
She shook her head. "No....."
"Oh wait, you went on an extended RP session in the public comments about how he was going to abduct and rape you. Damn, you're one messed up girl."
"Messed up as a guy that makes his girlfriend grow a pair of boobs that weigh 50lbs each? Knowing she's a gymnast!"
"Nah, not as bad. But hey, think of all the hot interactions you'll have on Instagram now! You're gonna step out, not in your leotard, but a bikini, these gigantic udders spilling out. And you'll do your routine.... as well as you can. Think of how many guys are gonna jerk off to that."
"Fuck.... that's so hot." Emily bit her lip, fondling her pussy and breasts. "They're so heavy.... I look like an idiot with these things....."
"Well, you are an idiot. A horny, drooling idiot, too obsessed with fondling that swollen pussy of yours to care whether or not millions see you flirt with married men and RP getting knocked up by them."
"I'm.... it's just a little addiction, is all. I could try therapy...."
"Nah, I think you deserve to be nothing but walking jerk-off fodder. You're done being a real athlete. They'll just have you on because your oversized, goofy looking udders will make so many desperate, horny men tune in. And a whole bunch of normies to make fun of you."
"Fuck you.... you find these tits sexy..... You just came so hard inside me!"
"Well, I find them less sexy than I do the fact that I made you grow them. Understand?"
She nodded obediently. "Yes, master."
"Good girl, now, isn't it going to be fun watching you balance those giant tits and a belly full of my kids at the next tournament? Damn, by the time the Olympics roll around, those tits will weigh 100lbs each. Won't that be so fitting? I can't wait to see you even try to perform..... Then your career will be sitting on OnlyFans, immobilized by those cartoonish udders, masturbating all day like the drooling, horny idiot you really are deep down. You'll be flirting with your desperate, gross fans, all of your regular fans won't want anything to do with you as you sit there ten hours a days fondling yourself, surrounded by a pair of tits too big for you to carry on your own....."
"Fuck you...."
"Don't act like you don't agree. You aren't an athlete Emily, you aspire to be nothing but walking jerk-off material. So you might as well go for gold, isn't that right?"
Emily bit her lip, rubbing her heavy breasts. "Then I better go for 200lbs each...... be totally trapped by these things...."
"Now that's the perverted little idiot I love."
"I aim to please, Master. ❤️"
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simpjaes · 5 months
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FRENZY ៸៸៸ part two
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Jake is experiencing real love for the first time in his life. He’s so infatuated with you that he would do anything to make you understand. And you? Oh, you are in no place to argue with a man who appears to be perfect. 
៸៸៸  part one here ៸៸៸ you must read the first part in order to understand this one!
៸៸៸ sim jake x afab reader 
 ៸៸៸ minors dni
 ៸៸៸ wordcount: 14.2k
 ៸៸៸ genre: stalker au, dark fic, slow burn, smut
 ៸៸៸ content tags: switch!stalker jake, he is gross but on a plus side he’s got a big shlong, obsession, panty stealing/sniffing, toothbrush sucking, shower water tasting, jealousy, manipulation, past trauma involving sa of reader, reader is manipulated into being obsessed with him too, trauma, jake is very insane, he’s thinks you need him to fix you, reader can be lifted and carried by him. 
 ៸៸៸ !WARNINGS! there is intense trauma, past abuse, and conflict in this fic. It’s dark with mentions of noncon and dubcon, and an instance where jake keeps going after reader faints. Everything is consenting between the two but only because he is manipulative and a bad person. if you can’t handle it, don't read it.
 ៸៸៸ a/n: sorry again for the way i had to post this in two parts, still i hope it was worth the wait!
៸៸៸ nsfw tags under cut
៸៸៸ nsfw tags for the whole fic, as in both chapters: masochism (jake), sadism (reader and jake), overstimulation, painful masturbation, praise, worship, dirty talk, blowjob, finger fucking, pussy eating, riding, missionary, mating press,  standing up sex yayyyyy, huge giant fat cock jake, deep penetration, unprotected sex, implied breeding, choking, hair pulling, suffocation, cock warming, crying, begging, hate sex, hitting (m receiving), squirting
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The next morning, you were late waking up to log into your work account but Jake was still there, drowsy and smiling at you from the moment you opened your eyes. 
You briefly remember the early morning pouting he gave you, hard against you and lips all over you, and in turn you remember how you made a promise to yourself swiftly after rejecting his needs.
Your face heated up the second he said good morning to you, flustered over the fact that not only do you want him, but you want him to want you like that again, despite your rejection. After all, you let him sleep over, and he didn’t try to take advantage of you despite sporting an intense boner through the majority of it. 
He sees the way your eyes check him out upon waking up too, but you stay silent after he gives you his good morning greeting. 
“Are you hungry? I can step out and pick up some breakfast so you can work.” He offers, stretching his arms out wide and tapping you to stand up. “I’m staying again today.” 
Your eyes widen at him, but the smile on your face betrays that little red flag in your head that has forced you, up to this point, to struggle to give him what he needs. 
“I’d like that.” You nod to him, cheeks permanently warmed at the image of your shining boyfriend. “Sorry about last night.” You blurt now, standing up and stretching yourself. 
“It’s fine love, it's just hard to keep my hands to myself sometimes.” He says, intensely watching your reaction.
You lend a pause in your stretch at those words, having heard them before when your ex did things that made your body ache for weeks. There is a pull in your gut hearing him say that before you remind yourself that they’re just words. He just really likes you, and he did stop when you told him to.
He is not your ex. 
“I wouldn’t have hurt you though,” He continues, seeing you deep in thought in front of him. “If you’d have let me, I mean.”
“Jake I–” You stop yourself, feeling a flood of words on the tip of your tongue. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” You confirm, now moving forward to hug against him. “I would have–” 
“You would?” His eyes light up, smile brighter than you’ve ever seen before. 
“No, I mean,” You stutter in panic, hugging him tighter. “I would have touched you if you asked.”
His eyes go dark instantly, making his smile seem more eerie than anything as you look up at him. 
“I’m okay with doing the touching, we can work our way up to the other stuff…maybe? If that’s okay?” 
“Oh, baby, that’s more than okay.” He coos out, now losing his appetite for actual food and wanting nothing more than to show you just how good he could really be for you. His arms hug you tightly before releasing you, and he ushers you across the room. “We can talk about this later though, you’re already late, right?”
You nod, feeling a bit better about initially rejecting him and doing just that, moving to the small nook that holds your desk and PC and listening to him slip his shoes on. 
“I’m going to grab breakfast, and I’m gonna stop by my place to grab some clothes.” 
He leaves before you can answer, which is nice because part of you didn’t want to hear your own voice accepting that. 
Accepting that he’s leaving right now, accepting that he’s coming back to stay another night, accepting that you feel perfectly fine with all of this despite your inner demon advising you to run. 
You don’t know who you are in this moment, but what you do know is that you’re safe. That’s what’s driving you to act blatantly against what your own brain is telling you.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You’re clinging and Jake is fucking devoted to the feeling of it.
Devoted to the way your fingers, so much smaller than his own, grab him to kiss him. Devoted to the way you kiss the bruise above his brow, and the way you ask him to stay for another night, and another, and another, up until he finds himself doing his and your laundry together just so he doesn’t have to go back home to grab more clothes to rotate through. 
It’s been a week since he’s been in your apartment, rolling around on your bed with you in it, cleaning himself in your shower, washing himself with your soap. It’s like only the two of you exist in this space, where he is the only one to step out and see the sun, solely so you don’t have to.
Or, solely so you can’t. He doesn’t think he’d let you at this point, now that you’re his and you prove it with each kiss and hug. All you need to do is sit and look pretty, sit and love him. That’s what your purpose is in this relationship, he will do the rest. 
Given, he’s also fucked his fist each second he can get in your bathroom. But goddamn do you cling. You whine when he separates himself from you even for a moment, and day by day he can see you come closer and closer to fulfilling his need to be loved by you entirely. 
Your phone hasn’t received any unsavory messages you’ve noticed as well, they haven’t needed you to come into the office, and all you can manage to think is that…you’re in love with being in this apartment with him.
Only good things happen when Jake is with you and you’re growing so attached that you’ve thought more than once to just move him in with you. Your mother would scold you, your ex would kill you, and arguably, Jake would absolutely do it. 
He waits on you hand and foot. Cooking, cleaning, doing your laundry, holding you and giving you some of the best sleep you’ve had in years. You refrain from considering it seriously though, because this relationship is still so new. You don’t want to freak him out or cause an uproar in your already fucked up and unsteady life. You’re throwing yourself in like you always do, but…is it so bad when he’s doing the exact same thing?
Until he’s not, anyway. 
“Love,” Jake starts, tapping his chin with the tips of his fingers as he lounges on your bed. “I need to go home today.”
Your heart immediately sinks. 
“What? Why?” You ask in a voice that plainly shows your panic.
“Well,” He taps on his chin again before moving his hand through his hair. “I’m pretty sure my mailbox is probably full by now, I need to clean out my fridge, and I should probably check my course work.”
“You’re…in college?” 
Jake nods with a snicker, laughing at how he’s given up his entire life for you. 
“Yeah, probably won’t be soon though.” He laughs, shaking his hair out and then looking at you with big, rounded eyes. “Just for the day, I’ll be back before sunset.”
You look down in a disappointed way before nodding to him. 
“Aww, babe. Don’t be like that–” He mock pouts as he turns to you, grabbing both of your cheeks and squishing them up, forcing your lips to pucker before landing a harsh kiss against them. “I’m coming right back, I promise.” 
You nod again, unable to keep a smile from forming on your face. 
“You’re so cute, it’s going to kill me one of these days.” He smiles back at you, hopping up and preparing himself to head back to his apartment. 
What you don’t know is that, while Jake wasn’t lying and that he should at least clean out his fridge, he needed to go home. 
He needs to unload the footage onto his computer, he needs to watch it back, he needs to fuck something.
And so, he does just that. 
The second he gets back to his apartment, it’s almost uncomfortable. Unfamiliar scents, no warmth, rotting food in the fridge, neglected pillows and bed sheets. 
Even so, it’s like he acts on instinct when he walks past everything he needs to do and lands himself at the window. His mind takes over in an instant.
It felt like so long ago when he first saw you from here, knowing you were the most beautiful, the perfect girl for him. Knowing you would love him too, and that you’d never want to leave him. He smiles at his victory, knowing that you’re sitting in that apartment right now thinking about him too. If he knew where he would be now, he thinks his former self may have very well fucked himself to death. After all, he’s felt you, tasted you, and even seen parts of you based on the little image he sent to himself from your phone. Everything happened better than he knew it would.
If it weren’t for your ex, perhaps you wouldn’t have let him stay with you in your apartment. Perhaps you wouldn’t have clinged to him so immediately. 
In a way, he almost wants to thank the man before he eventually strangles the life out of him. 
He’s tasted almost all of you by this point, and each moment it happened is trapped within the files of that little camera there. All of it, for him to remember. Each kiss and makeout session he made sure happened in the view of this camera, and so badly does he want to watch over and over again the moments where you gave in to him. The moments where you needed him. 
He’s quick to push the camera to his pc, uploading a weeks worth of files before placing it back onto the window sill and immediately shoving his hand down his pants. 
Jake shivers at the first unrestricted graze of his hand against his cock, eyebrows falling into that of probably one of the most pathetic faces he could ever make in his life. The relief is so good, so painful.
He can’t fucking help it. After jerking off multiple times a day before finding himself in your apartment with you, it’s hard to only do it once a day within a short time span of a few minutes. He felt so restricted in terms of his release, and he has so much cum to give right now. He’s aching for it. He wants to bleed it dry. 
He wants you so bad at this point, seeing you dangle yourself in front of him and not yet give in to at least going down on him– he needs this. He needs it now. 
Even if it’s not you touching him, he needs to release before he takes it from you. Before he does something stupid and makes you hate him forever. Before he really does become your ex. It felt like he was going insane in your apartment, surrounded by you, only wanting to fuck you, and still not getting to. 
God, the footage is so grainy but it hits his cock so fucking fast. He memorized each moment as it happened, and now watching it in third person makes him feel as if he’s some sort of ghost. Like he’s having an out of body experience and can see and feel you in a completely different light.
In more ways than he already has, even.
He releases within thirty seconds, barely holding his cock when he doubles over at the footage of that very first, harsh kiss you gave him. Sensitive and twitching, his raging length spilled all in his pants, drenches them through even, as his body shakes with the need for more.
And as if it never happened, he takes a firmer hold of his cock now, fast forwarding the footage to each and every kiss, wondering how good those lips of yours would feel elsewhere on his body. How pretty your moans would sound for him, how cute your hand looked gripping your tit in that little nude of yours, how–
He comes again, forcing him to let out a choked sob and drop his head to his desk. God, it hurts. He’s so sensitive, and still, he wants you so bad. His dick is still raging, aching, and begging, especially when he thinks of how you’ve been clinging. How your hands have fucked yourself, and how badly he wants them to stay on him forever. 
God he wishes your fingers could slice him open, leaving painful and love-filled reminders of not who you belong to, but of who he belongs to. 
When he thinks of how he’s only doing this right now because you have your claws buried into him already, almost refusing to let him leave you, he knows he could come another four or five times within the next thirty minutes solely because you cling, and cling, and fucking cling. Fuck..
That’s so hot to him.
He’d let you cage him up in a heartbeat, he’d let you fuck his entire life up and then laugh at him for it. It’s what you deserve. To have a man willing to do anything for you, someone willing to give up everything just to hear you breathe, to have him be that person. 
Third release, forcing him to hold his breath to the point of feeling faint.
The veins on his neck protrude, sweat now dripping down his brow. 
It hurts, it hurts, it fucking hurts.
But it doesn’t hurt enough.
And all day he does this. Until the sun is telling him that he needs to go back to you, until his hair is drenched in sweat and his arm is sore. Until his body feels weak and his cock feels spent, raw, and still throbbing for more. 
It hurts when he puts on a new pair of pants, hurts even more when he forces himself to squat in front of his fridge to clean it out, opting to toss everything into a bag rather than sifting through what’s good and what isn’t. 
Now more than ever does he want you against him, knowing that he’s fucked himself half to death solely to keep himself from scaring you, and still he isn’t satisfied.
At this point, nothing will satisfy him but you. He knows this now.
He’s quick to lock up, even quicker to toss his trash, and finds himself inside of your lobby at a loss.
Goddamn his libido. Goddamn this love for you. 
He can’t stop wanting you, and he can’t just fuck the need away himself at this point. He needs you to fuck his brain quiet, only you can satiate this horrifyingly deep hunger. 
Waiting, watching, waiting, waiting, waiting. 
He’s waited enough. He’s done waiting. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake appears at your door right on time, and you were expecting to see his smiling face and big stretched out arms to greet you as you open the door for him.
You didn’t get that though. In fact, you found yourself frozen with the door half open as you stared at your boyfriend and the way his terrifyingly small pupils looked back at you before instantly growing twice the size. So different from this morning, heaving, lips shaking, eyes darker than they’ve ever been. 
Before you can even ask why he’s looking at you like that, you learn exactly why. 
“I’m going fucking insane.” Jake says shortly in a hot whisper, stepping forward and slamming the door behind him. You feel his hands on you instantly, slipping under your shirt and grabbing your waist tightly. “Can’t be away from you, can’t be with you, I can’t stand it.” 
You just listen, feeling him walk you into the living room, fluttering his lips all over your face and neck, only to press you up and against the window with his entire body pinning you there with a slam. 
You’re shocked, unable to do anything but listen to him and feel the way his hands grip and search your entire body for something to hold onto. 
“All fucking day,” Jake seethes out angrily, pulling back from you and grabbing your face to turn it. Almost pissed that you simply exist in front of him right now. “Right there.” He says, pointing directly to his apartment. “I sat right there trying to deal with this.” He presses his hips against you, letting you feel exactly what he’s talking about. “And still, I need more.”
Your brain goes numb. Or maybe it goes hot, you’re not sure. You’ve only recently realized that he turns you on beyond belief, it’s difficult to decipher the difference between horniness and fear right now. 
“Jake–” You turn back to him, now using your own hands to grab his face, forcing his eyes to steady and look at you, as if to bring him back to reality. “Do you need–”
He cuts you off with a harsh kiss, hands running up just to press you harder against the window, his hips chasing whatever he can get from you. Like he’s using you in this moment, as if you’re not real and simply a doll for him to release against and inside of. 
He’s fucking gone. Outside of himself, and you, and the universe as a whole. 
“What I need,” He says, pulling back and stating in an almost demanding tone. “Is for you to take care of me.”
You knew this would come sooner or later, and you’d been trying to work up the courage to do it. You’ve run his patience dry, and you guess it’s now or never at this point.
“Just tell me.” You whisper submissively, wanting to give him whatever he needs solely so that he won’t leave you.
You see his expression soften within a split second, his hips release their pressure against you, and he pulls his hands back.
“Fuck.” He lets out apologetically, demeaning himself for losing his control and being so blatant. Pointing out his fucking apartment to you. “Baby, I’m sorry, I–”
You’ve already made your decision, understanding exactly why your boyfriend broke his composure. This past week proved enough to you that he wasn’t in it to fuck you, and even though his needs weren’t being met, he still worked hard to meet yours, you feel…
Yeah, you’re happy he did this. Even the force didn’t scare you entirely. The only thing that scares you is him leaving you over this. And he watches as you do it, sinking to your knees and reaching out to hook your fingers into the loops on his pants. 
“Baby,” He warns you, feeling you pull him straight to you. “Wait, wait.”
You don’t, knowing that if you were to stop now you might end up talking yourself out of doing this again.
“No,” You shake your head, lifting on your knees just to rub your cheek against the length in his pants. “Let me take care of you, I’ve neglected you enough.”
God, he fucking buckles. Dropping right to his knees in front of you, pulling you in by the face, and kissing you as hard as he possibly can. His entire body quivers, bursting in a euphoric sense of arousal as the hairs rise on his body at the very image of you on your knees for him. 
“You’re so good to me,” He mumbles through kissing you. “So, so good to me.”
And you just let yourself feel it. Intensely, to the point that even your stomach flips at knowing what’s about to happen.
Strangely enough, it flips in a good way. You haven’t felt like this in years, and it brings so much glee to you knowing that Jake is right here, willing to let you make him feel good. Willing to let you feel these things again, willing to make you feel good if you work up the courage to ask for it. And most of all, he’s staying. 
“Stand up then.” You whisper in a smile. “I’ll take care of you, so don’t run back home to do it yourself anymore.”
Jake shakes his head with a smirk, happy to get what he not only wants at this moment, but what he so desperately needs. 
“I did that for you, and look where it got me.” He says, standing and staring down at you. “Nothing will ever satisfy me, only you can.” 
You chuckle shyly, reaching up to fumble with his button only to have him take over for you, dropping his pants and gripping himself. 
“Don’t be so sure though.” You swallow around a lump in your throat at the size of him, proving why you were always able to feel it and not quite ignore it. “I don’t have a lot of practice with this.”
Oh, could you be any more perfect? Any more fucking endearing? With those pretty eyes staring down what he wants to put in you so bad, not even knowing how he’s only ever gotten this hard for you and you alone. Fuck, he could give it to you so good, he could fill you until you can’t breathe, he could keep you forever.
You look so pretty like this, with your lips trembling as you wet them, with the way your smaller hands swat him away as if to ask him to let you try and hold it yourself. 
He could shoot his load right now if you asked him to, looking so fucking docile on the floor for him. He needs to look away, he needs to prepare for this.
“I don’t know if I can, um,” You start, gripping him and noting that he’s thick, there’s no way it will all fit in your mouth without absolutely suffocating you. “Jake, I genuinely don’t know if I can fit all of it.”
He lends you a short chuckle as he takes in a breath, his fingers going down to tip your chin up at him. You feel it pulse in your hand as he looks at you, almost feeling his quickened heartbeat through the vein that runs up the underside of it. 
“Love, I don’t need it to fit.” He smiles, pressing it harder into your palm. “Even this is enough right now.” He lies, pressing his hips forward as if to show you that he’s lying.
He needs it to fit so bad.
You eye him down, feeling the twitch release a little dribble of precum that rolls down and onto your circled fist. It’s been a long time since you’ve looked at another person this way, wanting to taste it, almost needing to. 
Rubbing your legs together, almost uncomfortably, you swallow again as you keep your eyes trained on his before glancing back down. You pull your hands back just to see the way it drops. God, it’s so heavy. You can imagine he’s full of resentment for how long it’s taken you to simply look at it. His cock rages at you, darkened in color and glistening in the light of the setting sun through the window. 
All you can do is stare.
And all Jake can do is stare too, watching you do math in your head of what you need to do with him. He’d take anything, fucking anything, from you right now.
“Mm,” Jake hums for a moment, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tighter. “Like this.” He instructs.
“I know how to give a hand job, you know.” You roll your eyes playfully, despite totally forgetting how to do it now that, you know, you want to. 
“Yeah, don’t tell me that.” He warns, annoyed that you’d even say that right now. “Just, grip me harder–” He closes his eyes, pretending that you’ve never touched a cock that wasn’t his own, noting how your hands have always been gentle with him, save for that day you dragged him around by the shirt in a kiss.
You listen, trying to grip the girth of it as tightly as you can while dragging your hand forward and back, forcing little grunts out of him.
“Yeah,baby–” he encourages you, “Just like that.” He continues to lose himself to the feeling in soft moans, blinking down and now moving his hips in your grasp, fucking forward a bit harder. “Use your other hand too..”
You listen intently, never having to use both hands on a man like this before. You try to squeeze him, offering as much pressure as you can as he swivels his hips forward and back, slicking your hands up nice and wet with his precum. Unbelievable how much he has, actually. 
 You look up when he lolls his head back in a drawn out moan, staring at the expanse of his neck and the way it tenses when he swallows around the same moan. And then, suddenly, in a split second he hangs his head back down and looks at you as if he can see everything you are, everything you ever have been, and everything you ever could be. You gasp at his expression, feeling totally lost and in awe when you see that gaze go dead as he stares back. 
His lips fall slack when his hips pick up pace, essentially fucking your fists rather than letting you do the work. And when you glance away from him, tuning in to the consistent pre-cum spilling out of him, he sees you lick your lips. 
He watches, he sees you want it. 
So, very gently, he places one of his hands on the back of your head, encouraging you to do it. And it’s like he can taste colors when you let him and instantly wrap your lips around the big, swollen head of his leaking length.
The half-moan-half-amazed-chuckle that falls out of him only comes from the fact that you instantly stretch your lips around it, lapping at his tip in an almost hungry way. 
“God, fuck–” He keeps his head hanging forward, watching intently as you take him further and further into your mouth, up until you release one hand and grasp his thigh to hold onto. “I’ve dreamed of this.” He admits, shocked that you’re really going to do this for him.
You blink up at him, trying to smile around the heavy length pressing your tongue down. If you’re going to do this, the least you can do is make sure he fucking loves it. Not to mention, the fact that you’re also enjoying it only drives you to do more. Like the wall inside of you has been shattered and nothing could ever stop you from wanting him in any and every way possible.
He smiles through a deep groan at the way your lips still curl around him.
Never in his fucking life did he imagine you smiling while sliding his cock down your throat. Really, you did that entirely on your own and somehow, he feels even more insane than he did walking into your apartment earlier. 
You’re making it fit, and all he can do is help you, now bracing that same hand on your head and pressing further into your mouth.. 
More, more. 
And when he feels your fingernails dig into his thigh and his cock hit the back of your gagging throat, he chokes out, eyes tearing up, and he sobs out your name in a desperate attempt to compliment you for it. 
That sound alone from him went straight through you, igniting a long awaited arousal within your belly. You feel the drip, relishing in the feeling of being wet for the first time in fucking years. He’s so big, and he’s so suffocating. You want to do this, you want to hear him cry out your name again.
Even when he tries to pull his hips back, you grab onto him and hold his hips in place, pushing your lips further down, depressing your tongue even more as the thickest part of him cuts off your airways. Your throat restricts around him, and you feel proud of it. Proud of choking on him, happy to keep doing it. 
He stutters in awe, gripping the windowsill with his free hand and using the other to feel your hollowed out cheeks. Shit, you’re going to taste him, he’s going to give you all of it, he’s going to–
Shocked, floored, entirely drunk for you, all he can do is watch as you choke. His body did not warn him at all when his cum shoots into your throat, warming your belly with that first swallow around him. 
Your reaction to it is immediate though, as he watches with half-crossed eyes the way you pull off of him and let his cum spurt out and drip all over your face. Down those beautiful cheeks, onto your plush lips, and down your neck.
It won't stop. He just keeps coming. His entire body trembles as he stares at you, and you stare back before closing one eye due to the fact that there is now cum in your eyelashes, and you fucking smile at him.
The image alone keeps him hard as his body finally stops twitching. You, there on your knees, smiling up at him drenched in him. 
“Baby,” He soothes out with a raspy tone. “Fuck, you didn’t have to do–”
“I’m wet. Jake.” You smile, as if you’re admitting this to him to gain some sort of congratulations for it. And in a way, you are. He has no idea how amazing it is to you right now that you can feel your panties go sticky. It feels amazing to admit to him, actually. 
It’s so relieving, it’s so warm, it’s something you never should have missed out on in the first place.
“What?” He asks with uneven breath, dropping to his knees in front of you again, rubbing the cum into your skin with his thumb as he caresses your face. “You are?”
You beam at him, smiling with a nod.
“Really?” He asks again, in disbelief because this was all it took? 
You nod again, leaning back on your arms and watching him follow, hovering over you and slotting himself between your legs with a hungry gaze. 
“Can I feel?” He asks abruptly, crawling over you to the point that your back hits the side table behind you, keeping you from lying all the way down. 
And you nod before you think about it. Wondering if this is how it’s always supposed to be. Always willing, always wanting, always needing. 
He stares at you when you nod, glancing down to your middle then back at you as if to gain another confirmation. 
You nod again, this time wanting to hide your face in your arms. You anticipate it, wondering what it’ll feel like to be touched there again by a hand that isn’t your own after all this time. And when you feel his shaking hand dip into your sweat pants, you don’t even shutter. You don’t shy away.
You’re surprising yourself even, letting out a gasp when he cups your core and looks down at you with a cautious smile. 
“You’re dripping, baby.” He smiles as he balances himself on one arm over you, rubbing his hand back and forth and memorizing the dips and folds he can feel through this flimsy fabric. Then, his more intrusive thoughts spill in an unintentional and needy groan. “Fuck, I bet you’re so tight.”
Words that would make you recoil are no longer scaring you. You can tell he wants to apologize for saying it too, but goddamn, you loved hearing it. In fact, your entire body pulses at the words, feeling his hand do nothing more than hold you there and gently rub. His eyes are pleading though, with his lips pouting as he relishes in thoughts of probably fucking his fingers into you just to see if he’s right. 
Or maybe it’s just you hoping that’s what he’s thinking about. You can’t help the way you clench, letting out a strained breath as you lurch forward and hug him around his neck, squeezing so tightly as you whisper against the shell of his ear. 
“You can touch me– if you want.” You whisper, physically feeling the goosebumps against his neck raise to your lips. “Just go slow.”
You still need to go slow, after all, you don’t know how your brain may react to this, despite loving it at the moment. Relishing in the fact that someone managed to make you feel horny again. You feared that you never could again. God, he’s amazing. 
“I’ll go so slow for you,” He whispers back, twisting his hand in your pants to hook his fingers around your panties to pull them to the side. “Oh, baby, you really do want this, don’t you?” He whispers again upon really feeling you drip, trying to slide his fingers through the slick mess before rubbing circles around your hole. He’s lost his train of thought now, only able to feel one sense at a time so that he can fucking memorize how you coat his fingers entirely.
He moans again from deep in his chest along with you, despite knowing you’re the only one feeling the pleasure of his fingers. You feel his moan vibrate through his throat when you kiss him there, anticipating what it’s going to feel like when he slides a finger in.
And it’s like you see stars when he does, slowly pressing one into you as he wraps his other arm around your waist to hold you in place, sitting back on his knees and forcing you to stand on your own infront of him. 
There he holds you as if he’s afraid you’ll start to fight, relishing the feeling of your wet walls hugging his finger all while you cling to him through it. He was right, you are tight despite how wet you’ve gotten. It’s almost like you’re a virgin despite knowing that you’re not. 
Your body is reacting this way for him, and you’re hugging him, and your pussy is clenching for him. He just knows that if he manages to fit his cock into you, he’d fucking lose it. You’d squeeze him so tight, and he’d fuck it so deep. Fill you up, deeper, deeper, until the only name you know is his. 
He’s losing it again, hearing your little whispered moans against his ear, hanging on him like a fucking pet, god, he wants you to squeeze the fucking blood out of him. You’re being so compliant, so submissive, so–
“Do you even know…” He starts babbling, trying to silence his thoughts by giving them straight to you as his finger slides out, eagerly shoving two back in at a much quicker, much harsher pace. “How much I’ve dreamed about this?” 
You shake your head noting how he’s already mentioned dreaming of you once. The thought has you spreading your legs out to feel how deep his fingers reach inside of you. There’s no pain involved in this, despite his pace not being nearly as slow as he said he would go. You’re not upset, you want him to go faster, you want him deeper, you want to hear him talk.
“So many times, baby, so many times.” He soothes himself more than you through these words, losing himself more and more each second to the feeling of your core clenching his fingers. “You’re even prettier to me right now,” He continues to babble, listening to you hum in his ear at the pleasure you feel. “I want you to take everything from me.” 
“I want you to wrap your legs around my neck, I want you to rub my nose in it, I want you to suffocate me, I want—”
“Shit, Jake.” You moan out his name for the first time at the dirty words. They’re a lot to take in only because you know it truly is a lot, or rather, it should be. But you fucking want that too. You want everything from him, you want everything he wants. Everything. “What else?” You urge him to keep talking.
“I want you to pull my hair,” He says, instantly feeling your fingers slide up his neck and into the thick of it, tugging immediately. “I want you to make it fit here too.” He continues, curling his fingers inside of you, thrusting his own hips against the dense air in your apartment. 
You moan again at his hot words. You’re overwhelmed by how much you want more, how much you’d let him, right here, right now. 
“Keep going,” You sing out, feeling it in your stomach and knowing that this familiar feeling is so much better than you’ve ever felt before. “Tell me, Jakey, fuck–” You continue, huffing at the way his fingers quicken even more. 
“Sound so pretty saying my name, fuck,” He groans now, more level than before as he feels your legs close around his arm, fingers relentlessly hitting the soft spot inside of you. “Tell me that I’d never hurt you, that only I can make you feel like this.”
You nod aggressively as your brain hits a wall, unable to fulfill his request. Every muscle in your body tenses in pleasure as you begin to shake, moving your own hips against his fingers and tugging his hair harder without intention. 
He moans out at how tight you hold him, wanting nothing more than to lay you out and bury himself into you, to feel your pussy jerk him off. 
“Feels so good, baby, right?” He continues to talk, feeling your tight walls try to push his fingers out with each threat of your build up, his mind is spinning. “Say it–” He stutters, feeling his own body react the same way yours is. “Fuck, please, say that you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.” You whisper out of breath against his ear, the hot breath sending him overboard as he immediately pulls his fingers from you and grips his cock instead, ignoring your whimper of the lost build up.
“Yeah,” He cries out, thrusting his hips against his hand. “So let me– please, please let me.” 
His face looks so broken when you stare at him in shock, eyes pleading for you to give him all of it. To give him everything right now. How could you fucking say no to that expression? How could you ever say no to him? 
And still, with your orgasm half-fulfilled, you’re entirely enamored with the way you instantly want it too. As if you’re rushing head first into a brick wall with him, and you stop just to think for a moment.
Should you? 
Do you intend to keep this man forever? Do you want him to leave? Would you be able to picture a day without him? 
It confirms in your brain right then and there. You do intend to keep him. You don’t want him to leave. You could never picture a day without him at this point. 
If he wants to have sex with you right now? Why not? You’re sure that if he is truly wanting to stay, sooner or later you’ll feel him pumping inside of you. Why should it matter that it happens now rather than tomorrow? Or next week? Or even next month? 
Instantly upon your snap decision, you stand on shaking legs, watching him watch you. His hand gripping himself harshly to prevent a pathetic and untouched orgasm, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy. 
You smile, dropping your pants, panties, and then lifting your shirt right up and over your head. All he does in response is wince, grip the base of his cock harder, and try to focus on not spilling and wasting his cum on your floor. Brain only slightly trying to distract him with the idea of grabbing those sticky panties to suck them clean. 
“Really?” He chokes, out of breath and standing up, swiping your panties up quickly and crumpling them in his hand.
Then, you feel one hand on you after he drops his length, and the other rubbing those same wet panties against your skin, as if he has a death grip on them and you. Still, he walks you right back to the window and against it, speaking in that same, needy and shaking breath. “Baby, are you sure?” 
You look away, feeling vulnerable and shy but so willing, so ready when you nod and throw your leg around his waist as if to tell him that you’re more than sure. 
He gives you a breathy chuckle, pulling back just to lift his shirt off of him, hang your panties at the base of his cock, and then he grabs your leg and holds it in place. “Right here?”
He can’t tell if he’s even alive right now, with your pussy sitting spread open right up against him as you let him hold you here, your ass is probably looking great for the camera right now. Your panties feel so good in their rightful place, dangling just in front of his balls. You feel so good in your rightful place, right up against the wall with him trapping you here. 
You nod again, pressing your hips forward, proving to him how hungry you feel for him right now. Finally feeling dirty and not hating yourself for it.
“Right here.” You confirm, tuned into his lips and leaning forward to lick against them. “That’s what you want, right?”
He’s stunned by how you take control while still being somehow submissive to him about it. Almost like you’re shaming him for wanting it, almost like you don’t want to admit that you want it too. 
“Is that what you want?” He asks, trying hard not to think about how you’ve shifted entirely within the span of however long it’s been since the two of you started this. Is this how you act when you're horny? 
“How could I not?” You confirm again with a confident tone, watching your boyfriend break in front of you. “Look at you.”
Jake can’t bear to look at himself, he knows he looks just about as pathetic as he’s always wanted. Never quite able to feel pathetic enough to satisfy him, only now understanding why he chased and chased the feeling to have you like this. 
Controlling whether he can stick his dick in you, controlling whether he can fuck off and die. 
That’s how it’s supposed to be in a relationship, but somehow it’s something else between both of you. For him, it’s like you’ve intentionally edged him for an entire week and for you it’s like you finally have control over your own sexuality again. 
You feel powerful, and Jake wants to be entirely at your mercy. 
“No one has ever wanted me this bad and waited.” You finally say to his intense and loving stare. “I want to give you anything you want.”
If he had a tail, it would be wagging so fast right now. It’s like he’s being given a treat for being exactly who you needed him to be, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop doing it. 
“I could wait longer,” Jake mumbles, inching his lips to yours and letting his other hand cup one of your tits. “You could make me suffer,” He continues, whispering it right into your mouth. “Could lock me up and starve me of it.”
You lean your face back, a little shocked at his choice of words there. 
“So you meant those things you said earlier?” You ask, remembering how he babbled on about wanting you to suffocate him, about how he wanted you to take everything from him. 
“Do you want me to be honest?” He counters, now pressing his hips forward and letting his cock weep against your thigh. 
You nod to him. 
“I want you to take it all out on me.” He admits, gripping your tit in his hand tighter, hiking your leg up higher. “I want you to control every aspect of my life.”
Honestly, it shouldn’t be a thought that brightens your brain but it does. It sounds toxic, and you can’t even tell if he’s saying this just because he’s horny and is about two seconds from slamming you up and against this window with the force of his cock alone. Somehow, you love the thought of all of it. 
“Every aspect?” You ask with interest. “What do you mean?”
He chuckles as he hangs his head, watching his length pulse constantly against your thigh and the panties hanging off of it. Only then does he release your tit and use your panties as a way to position his cock up, lining up with the wet of your core that is only for him.
“It means–” He starts, sliding into you with a paused moan, hiccuping slightly as he furrows his brows. “I want you to make me cry for you.” He continues with a tilt to his head as he watches the way you wince at all of the strength he has to hold you up like this, to slide into you like this. “I want you to hurt me, and I want you to love doing it.”
He bottoms out after that, holding you in place and feeling your walls struggle to adjust to the tight fit. 
“It’s what you deserve.” He soothes out to you, kissing you once. “To take someone the same way you’ve been taken.”
You recoil instantly, pussy restricting in horror at the reminder of why you never do this with another person, but god the way he lifts on his toes just to plunge somehow deeper into you. The way his lips trap you even more, the way his force is nothing but fucking amazing to feel. All you can do is moan, bump your head against the window, and squeeze him. 
“You said you wanted to give me what I want–” He slides out of you just a little bit. “So, can you?” He pushes back in, listening to you get wetter at his words and feeling your answer when you can’t seem to speak for yourself. 
“I said I’d never hurt you, love,” He coos out this time, watching your body shift up against the window as he picks up some sort of rhythm, taking you the way he’s always wanted you. Right here, against the window. “But I never said that you couldn’t hurt me.”
Why the fuck is that so hot? God, why does a man like Jake offer you so much? Why is he doing this to you? Why is he doing it to himself? Why do you love it? 
You find yourself nodding as you moan out, still not quite adjusted to his size and the way he made it fit into you in such a…pleasurable way. It doesn’t hurt at all, it feels good. 
“Yeah, I knew you would.” He continues to talk as if he’s not internally losing it, but months worth of pretending, several orgasms today alone, and having your pussy hugging him just as tightly as he knew it would? That’s helpful. 
And now, as your fingers grip at him through his harsh and deep thrusts, all he can do is hold your leg against him, lean forward, and stare directly into his apartment window. As if he’s mocking his former self, as if everything in the world has fallen into place. You wouldn’t leave him now, never, you’d be just as stupid as everyone else if that were the case. 
He has faith in you, in himself, in this, and the way you drip all over him. 
He knew you’d be perfect for him. 
It doesn’t take long, really, for him to pull an orgasm out of you when he’s doing it this good. In fact, you don’t even have to reach a hand down to help pull it out of you by the time your body begins to stiffen up at it. 
His pace is slow, his cock is deep, and fuck his entire body is on you. You couldn’t squeeze your hand down if you tried, in fact, you don’t think he’d even consider letting you do any of this on your own. 
His grip is so strong, you can feel your sweat stick to the window as you slam your head down on his shoulder, sliding up and down the window with each of his powerful thrusts. 
It feels so good to do this again.
“Jake–” You hiccup against his neck, listening to his heaved and choked breaths through each thrust. “I wish I had done this sooner.” You manage to get out, body tensing and relaxing by the minute with the threat of an orgasm. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”
And honestly, you don’t know what’s gotten into you, nor do you fucking care. If you want to cry, you’ll fucking cry. It’s been too long since your tears hit you out of pleasure, or happiness, or fucking safety. At this rate, you’ll never let this man go. 
“I know baby, I know.” He soothes you, arms shaking as he holds you up and thrusting in as deep as he can go.
You feel him stutter in his pace, his hips stopping as you feel his heavy cock pulsate against your clenching walls. 
“Are you close?” He says, pulling back and looking at you. “Is that why you’re sorry?”
You look at him with glassy eyes, smiling dazed at him as you shake your head. 
“No,” You smile wider, running your hands up and into his hair, remembering what he asked for before. You tug, forcing his head to tilt back so that you can attach your lips to him. “I’m saying it because I want you to always make me feel this good.” You whisper against his pulse point, kissing it hard. 
You feel him lose composure at that, his hips immediately moving again, slamming up and into you so hard that you can’t even hold your head still enough to kiss him there again. 
“Ah, fuck,” He whimpers out, “why would you fucking say that to me right now?” He continues, relentlessly fucking himself against the soft and sensitive spot inside of you. “You still make me feel so insane, only you could do this to me.”
You smile, having learned that he appears to love the torture anyway. 
“You love it though, don’t you Jakey?” You say, loving the way he loses it for you, learning how badly he’s wanted this, seeing him intend to stay. 
And at those words, he can’t take it anymore. Fuck the camera, fuck anything else in the world that isn’t you. He ignores that wince on your face when he slips out of you, ignores the way the panties fall from his length, and focuses entirely on the way you hug him as he carries you straight to the couch. 
Right there, he drops you and watches the way your tits bounce at the motion. 
“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” He says, feeling the arousal run through his veins, knowing you’d love to hear him say that while never knowing just how true it is. “How are you real?”
You smile, hiding your face as you feel his hands hold your thighs open. You know what he’s looking at, and you can’t force yourself to see him do it. Solely because you know it’s going to swell your heart so big that you’d only fear the day he wants to leave it empty.
And you don’t respond either, because you can’t. His fingers are spreading you open and you can hear him drop to his knees yet again for you. You wan’t to look so bad, but still, you fear the love in his eyes.
You fear and want all of it. 
He hears the sharp inhale you give when he spreads you out, really inspecting the single spot on your body that no one on this earth should ever see aside from him. 
“This is where it hurt the most, isn’t it?” He asks, staring into the hole he’s already fucked, watching it beg him for more despite his words that probably stab your soul. 
You’ll never understand how he can take your pain and turn it into something you don’t mind hearing though. Yes, that’s where it hurt the most, and still, that’s where you want him the most. 
“Yeah, baby?” He asks again, reaching an arm up and forcing you to look at him. “This is what you were so afraid of?” He continues, dipping down and rubbing his face directly into the folds and inhaling a deep breath. 
“Y-yeah.” You choke out at the feeling, in awe of how you knew his eyes would make you terrified. He still stares up at you as he does it, pointing his glare straight through you and into your fucking spirit.
Only Jake can make you fear nothing else in this world aside from the thought of losing him. 
“I’ll make it better,” He says, boosting his ego at the way your legs wrap around his head. “You’ll always want me here,” He continues, cooing out with each taste and lick of your budding arousal. “You’ll never want me to stop–” 
No man has ever wanted you this bad while having you, even as you experienced the trauma of just that. Your ex wanted you physically, but something about the man drying to drown himself in your pussy right now makes you feel like he wants you on a level far deeper than what’s possible.
He’s eating you out like he wants to eat you whole. Like he could devour you, and never spit you out of his mouth. 
“Shit, shit–” You moan, hands shooting down to his hair yet again, finding yourself loving the way his grown-out roots feel softer than the harsher dyed section of his hair. You tug harder than you have before, feeling his tongue search and yearn for everything you have to offer him. 
“Mhm.” He mumbles with a mouth full of pussy, rolling his eyes back at how you do just as he suggested before. Rubbing his nose in it, letting him continue to lose himself in the point of all of his problems. 
And it’s as if you forgot that this only happens to reach a point of coming. The experience alone feels like one long and drawn out orgasm already, it doesn’t take anything at all for him to get you there. 
It’s like he already knows it too, because you go entirely silent with a held breath as he holds your hips and buries his tongue deep inside of you. He wants to feel it, he wants to taste it. And he suffers for it, really, neglecting his own cock and knowing he’s going to come through this alone anyway. 
As expected, he does. Upon the first gush of your slick hitting his tongue, his cock pulses, his balls squeeze up, and he can feel it shoot out of him each time your pussy shakes against his suffocated mouth.
And your hands, so perfect in his hair, pulling without even knowing. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, this is more than he could have ever asked for. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
By this point in your relationship, the two of you have moved so quickly that it doesn’t even scare you. In fact, if it slowed down at any point, you’d probably be preparing a suicide note simply because you don’t want to be in this world without Jake. 
Since the first time you got intimate with him, it’s like it hasn’t stopped. You’re shocked at his thirst for you and even more shocked that someone so fucking perfect would waste his breath on you even for this long. 
It hasn’t been that long, really, since the first time you touched him. A few days at most, but it’s like that moment solidified a lot for the two of you.
One, he’s not going to be sleeping in his own bed anytime soon or, ever, really. Two, you’ve learned through at least two more sessions of Jake’s mouth on you that he really does want you to live up to his requests. He makes it known how badly he wants you to make him suffer, how badly he needs you to give him everything he wants. Thankfully, he’s patient with your reluctance. And Three, your ex is no longer a threat. 
Each message you receive, you just hand your phone to Jake and he takes care of it. 
It doesn’t even translate in your head that you’ve been barred from answering your mother’s calls until the police show up at your door for a wellness check. Where, of course, Jake answers,
“Yeah, she’s here.” You hear his voice as you lay flat against your bed, heaving breaths as if he didn’t just have the tip of his dick in you. “Why?” You hear him question. 
A few more muffled words and you hear the door close and his footsteps making his way to your room. 
“Cops.” He dead-pans, “Your mom thinks you're dead.” he adds with an eye roll. 
Your internal panic, a feeling you had once been so accustomed to that now feels almost foreign, takes over your body.
“Fuck, my mom!” You say in a fast breath, rushing onto your feet and throwing on a pair of his soiled sweatpants. 
Jake hangs back but listens to your conversation from your hallway, listening intently to how you speak to other men, cops or not. 
“Yeah,” You say, scratching your temple with shame. “I guess I didn’t realize she was calling me so much.” 
Try five times a day. 
“I’ll call her now, sorry for wasting your time.” You continue with that nervous chuckle that you used to use on him during your dates. 
And then you’re back in the room, looking at him with a raised brow. 
“Why didn’t you tell me my mom has been calling?” You ask, a little annoyed that it’s gotten to the point of freaking your mother out. 
Jake shrugs, then looks at you apologetically. 
“I don’t like when she forces you to talk about it.” He finally says, sulking his shoulders and huffing out. “I don’t like that she tells you to be careful around me.”
You roll your eyes, relieved that he’s just being himself and wanting to keep you happy. 
“Still, you should have told me. She’s going to have a fucking heart attack thinking he showed up at my work place again.”
Jake’s entire brain stops working, his body going rigid as if the cold air outside is hitting him in full force. 
Your eyes immediately widen as you slam your hand over your mouth. Fuck, you forgot that you told her in a hushed tone, explaining that it’s okay. That Jake wouldn’t let anything happen to you. 
Fuck. 
“He what?” Jake says, dumbfounded at the slip of your words. 
“Jake, wait–” You try to get an explanation but he’s not having it. 
“You haven’t been at work, what do you mean he showed up?” He glares, chest heaving as his heart rate picks up. 
“It was from that day when you first stayed over,” You look at the floor apologetically. “I didn’t want to talk about it…” You trail off, feeling his energy hit you in the face at how he’s completely shifted from that loving, soft boyfriend you’re so used to. 
“You kept that from me!?” He seethes out in disbelief. This whole time he thought he fucked your ex up enough to prove what would happen if he even fucking tried it. By you explaining that it happened just after Jake found him, that’s a direct insult.
A threat.
A fucking death wish.
“I didn’t–” You stutter trying to explain yourself. “I didn’t think it would matter since you were here. You were keeping me safe.” 
“You lied to me?” He continues interrogating you, coming up to you and practically demanding an answer through his eyes.  
You look away, nodding. 
“You said you wanted me to keep you safe, what would have happened if you had to go to work again?” He drones on and on, seemingly stuck on the fact that you didn’t tell him. “What would happen if they called you to go in today?” 
Already you’re starting to cry, feeling stupid for not making a bigger deal out of it. To be fair, not talking about it helped and you did intend to tell him at some point. That just…never happened. 
“I would have asked you to stay with me at work.” You say, feeling numb as the fear of losing the man in front of you steals your every thought. “I’d have not gone. I’d have quit. I don’t know!” 
Jake backs down at your words, only able to soften his rage if you’re the one who causes it. 
“Baby,” His soft voice shocks you when you feel him come back to himself, as if to comfort the fear he just instilled in you. “I’m not mad.”
Yes he is, you know he is. 
“Now you’re the one lying.” You argue, pushing him away only to feel his grip on you tighten. 
“Am I?” He asks, urging you to keep talking. “Are you mad at me now?” He continues, intentionally pushing your buttons. 
“Mad that I should have already known?” 
“Mad that I didn’t let you talk to your mom?” 
“Mad that I’m keeping you safe, while you keep putting yourself in the position to be hurt by him again?” 
You stare at the floor. 
“Mad that this is your fault?” 
Yeah, you are mad. 
“Fuck you, Jake.” You break, feeling his strangling fingers on your skin scratch and leave welts when you force yourself away from him. “Fuck you for all of that.”
“What else?” He presses, hanging on specific words. “Fuck me for what else?” 
You just stare at him, and he can see the anger in your eyes. 
“For not being there when it happened?” He asks gently. “For not killing him when I had the chance?”
When he had the chance. 
“What do you–” You try to ask, but he just continues, closing back in on you. 
Somehow, you need it, despite wanting to pull away every time. 
“Fuck me for wanting this from you, right?” He says, much closer to you and dipping down to kiss you. “Fuck me for wanting you to be this mad, hmm?” 
You break again, something deep within you spiraling into a different type of insanity you’ve never felt. You don’t feel trauma, you don’t feel scared, you feel…enraged.
“Fuck me for thinking you look perfect,” He whispers against your lips. “Fuck me to fuck me, fuck me to fight me, fuck me.” 
The repeated words fit into your brain like they belong there. Like this anger is supposed to be filling you with pleasure rather than dread. Like you’re supposed to feel just as in love as you are mad. 
“Just fuck me, baby.”
And god fucking dammit. How does he crawl into the depths of your brain, like a fucking roach, and kiss all of the areas you don’t know exist? How the fuck does he wake shit up inside of you that you never dreamed of having, or feeling, or wanting.
“I hate you.” You say, and meaning it too. 
Because you don’t think you’ve ever loved someone more than you do now. 
“Yeah, I bet you do.” He smiles, dipping his hand down into the sweats you put on and sliding into the same slick he had spilling out of you just before the pigs showed up. “I love it.” He chuckles against your lips when you refuse to moan at his touch. 
You’re pushing against every good feeling inside of you right now, thinking only of how this rage spills out of you and against his fingers. 
“So wet to hate me–” He says, pressing and pressing and pressing for you to just fucking– “Hit me.” 
He sees your eyes shine at the very thought of how badly you must want to do that, unknowing of how much he wants it too. Needing it almost. 
And oh, the moan he lets out when your weak hands raise to shove him back. He plays off of it, stumbling back to your bed just to fall on it. Waiting, knowing you’ll come take him for all he’s worth.
“Come on, love.” He encourages you. “Make me sorry.” 
You hate him, and you hate that you love it. Love that he loves it, fucking adore that he wants this, he wants to let you do whatever you want to him. 
To kick, cry, scream, release everything that’s been trapped in your head for years.
You don’t even falter, feeling it bubble up and overtake every thought. Dripping down your legs as if this is the only way you could ever fulfill your own pleasure again. Only now to you slide the pants back off of you, so horny out of your mind that all you can manage is to feel these emotions drip for him. 
He watches you straddle him bare from the waist down, sees your breath shaking, and your lips quivering.
Jake knew you had it in you. 
“Take them off.” You demand, rolling your eyes at the way he looks up at you with pure bliss.
“Hit me first.” He offers, feeling his cock strained against his own pants that he haphazardly threw on when he heard the knock at your door. “Hit me, and I’ll fuck the hate out of you.” He lies.
“Take them off.” You repeat, cold hands reaching down as you do it yourself, lifting just enough to shove them down far enough.
And god, the breath is knocked clean out of him with the way you just take him. You slide down perfectly, bottoming him out in one motion. He can see now that you need this perhaps even more than he does. 
“God, come on baby.” He moans, feeling you just sit still on him. 
“Jake,” You warn, running your cold hands up to his neck on instinct. “Shut up.” You squeeze. 
The smile that forms on his face is pornographic at best, and drunk at worst. You see him love every instant of it, and you don’t want to admit that you do too.
You didn’t know it would feel so good to have a man’s neck in your hands, squeezing it just to shut him up. Releasing it just to hear him gasp out a praise. 
“So good,” He praises, eyebrows knitted together as he loses himself to the way your pussy chokes his length. You’re not even fucking him, you’re just– “So perfect.” He continues, nearly wailing out at the immense love he feels inside. 
And then, you do. You hit him. Power hungry and entirely at a loss for your own pleasure, you land a harsh and loud slap right against his face, only for him to moan louder. 
Only for him to fuck up. 
Only for him to grip your sheets so tight that you hear a rip. 
Again. You slap him, feeling your anger slowly fizzle with each frantic moan he gives back. 
Again, and again.
“Shit, you love that, don’t you?” He manages to say, feeling his cheeks sting with red-hot passion, only to be hit again, and again. “God, make it hurt.” 
At this point, you know that you could never give him enough as the rage leaves your body entirely and it’s replaced with nothing but the need to just….fuck him. Never in your life have you ever been blinded by a need so badly, save for safety.
And you have that now, don’t you? You have Jake now, right where you want him, right he wants to be. He wants you to feel this, he made you feel this. 
The first bounce felt like pure agony, slamming his cock into you by your own force, feeling him stretch you open, hearing it slap and echo against the walls. 
“Make it hurt?” You finally say, pinching his cheeks together and forcing him to look at you. “I don’t think I could hurt you enough if I tried.” You admit, quite truthfully, mind you.
Jake gives you a crooked smirk. 
“Try it anyway.” He coos, feeling the way you repeatedly arch your back just to ride him faster. “Could fill you up, right here, right now, flip you over and make you take it if you’re so worried that you can’t.” 
It runs through you like a cold shiver. You don’t want to give up this power, you want to try. 
“That’s big talk for someone asking to be choked right now.” You dead-pan at him, voice even and calm. You continue to move your hips, listening to his repeated moans with each breath. “So loud and needy for it too.”
Jake nods proudly and drunkenly, reaching his hands out to yours and forcing them back on his neck. 
“I could be needier.” He says, pressing your hands against his airways. 
You take over for him, choking his remaining words out of him and forcing him to moan. 
“You said you’d make me take it?” You seethe out through your own pained moan, riding him so hard that you feel sensitive. “Like you think it would hurt me?” 
He shakes his head rapidly, implying that you’re wrong to think that. Wanting to tell you that if he made you take it, you’d love every second of it. You wouldn’t tell him no. 
“After promising you never would, Jake?” You question still, knowing he can’t answer. You squeeze harder as you watch his face darken, the blood rushing to burst in the whites of his eyes. “Is that it? You want to hurt me so that I hurt you back?”
He nods in a daze, wanting nothing more than to die like this now, or some other day. To hear your voice, feel your hands, and know that you’re fucking him through it. 
“You don’t scare me.” You finally say, releasing the grasp and listening to the sharp inhale he takes in. “As much as I wish you did, you don’t.” 
That’s all it takes really, knowing that he could work you like a puppet and you’d still love him. Why else would you say that? You wouldn’t fuck him like this if you didn’t mean it. Your mother long forgotten, the anger gone, it’s just a raw form of you and him right now. 
Everything you’re saying is more truthful than he ever thinks you’ve been with him. 
“Want me to?” He finally asks with a wet gasp as he continues to catch his breath. “I bet I could.”
“You can’t.” You say, now slowing your hips as your legs tire out, bracing yourself on his shoulders to take a breath. 
“I can.” He says, immediately overpowering you. He sits up quick, flipping you right over and onto your back. “I can make you feel anything I want.” He whispers darkly to you. He grabs your legs and pushes them to your chest, lost entirely from this reality. “Anything you want.” 
You just stare up at him, willing to accept his words even more when he slams his length into you, so deep that you feel nothing but the pain of it. 
For the first time, he’s hurting you through pleasure alone. 
“Could make you love it too,” He continues to dote on himself as he watches the sparkle in your eye dim. “You love it already, don’t you?”
“I’m not afraid.” You manage to mutter out through a guttural groan, wincing at the way he drives himself into you at such a speed that all you feel is pain. 
“I can’t take you seriously when you talk like that.” He chuckles, feeling entirely in control of whatever entity is running his body right now. “I see you baby, you’re terrified to lose me.” 
Your eyes die in that moment, because out of anything in this world, he’s pinpointed your biggest fear. 
“So pretty when you’re scared too,” He hums out, not relenting at all with the force of his hips when he lets your legs fall around him, and he finds himself burying his face between your tits. “Maybe I should threaten to leave you.”
Instantly, you cry. 
“Just so I can eat up these little tears you have for me.” 
You wish he would shut up. 
“So I can taste the way you come on me, and feel your pussy try and lock me here.” He smooths over your nipple at the words, slowing his hips and pulling out just to the tip. “Your body tells me more than you know, love.”
Your eyes roll up when his pointed thrust shoves your body across your sheets, your hands reach for his shoulders, clawing for any sense of normality to this moment. 
“So quiet.” He lightens his own voice now, letting it fall against your collarbone in a tone just above a whisper. “So stubborn.” 
Your mind awakens at the insult, hoping he’s right. 
“To think I’d ever leave you.” He smiles, lifting up to meet your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He tastes your tears and it’s just enough for him to forgive you. 
To forgive you for not hitting him enough, for not choking him until he died. To forgive you for even thinking you’d need to talk to your mother, and for fucking lying to him. 
And only now does he go quiet, fucking you will full intent now that he’s already in your head at every turn and corner. He can tell with the way you don’t even realize your previous orgasm. 
With the way it bubbled out and down his balls, hugging his cock so tightly that all he could do was keep fucking with your mind, toying with threats only to silence them. 
And then, you inhale a sob, and breathe out his name, so pretty to your ears, even more beautiful to his own. 
“Don’t leave me.” You chime out, body numb and emotions threatening you into a panic attack.
“I’m right here, love.” He chuckles. “You’re shaking.” 
You are. More than you can even comprehend, your body is shaking from feeling everything and nothing at once, all the way up until you do feel something. 
“Ah, shit.” You cry out, hugging his body so tightly against you. “Right there–”
And Jake does it, angling his hips to repeatedly hit the spot inside of you. Knowing you’re sensitive, knowing you can take it, knowing that he can’t when he feels every drop in your body push him out of you. 
Instantly he plunges back in, listening to the wet sounds of all that love you must have for him. He can barely move in this suffocating hug as your body shakes and quivers more than it ever has, even through your past traumas, even through the cold nights this city offers. 
He has spent you and fucked you dry. 
“There she is,” He echoes into your ear. “The girl of my dreams.” 
The only energy left in you is enough to give him a smile before your tunnel vision fades into nothingness. 
It feels calm in the darkness he gives you, and even calmer when you wake up feeling as if all of this was a dream. 
It wasn’t though, because you can feel the way you’re still leaking all over your bed. Your own slick mixed with his, and you don’t even remember when or how he orgasmed because he certainly was taking his time before you initially fainted, but you’re glad he did. You think he is too, with the way he clings to you like a puppy, as if he didn’t just fuck reality straight out of you. 
Lending you the gift of floating, and of pain you find yourself to love. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Waking up the next morning felt like you were a new person and you couldn’t be happier to see the saddest version of you die. The only fear you need to have is that Jake may some day choose to leave, and he said himself that he never would. 
You trust him more than anyone, more than yourself even, considering he’s managed to force you into facing so many versions of yourself that you didn’t even know you had. 
This is the first morning you’ve woken up without your skin crawling and you can’t help but shake him awake, destroying that blushed and sleeping face of his. 
“Jake,” You shake him, feeling him stir instantly and lend you a crooked smile. “Wake up.”
You listen to his morning stretch as his body vibrates in a yawn, and then he’s nuzzling his face even further into your naked chest. 
For what feels like hours, you find yourself engaging in pillow talk. Logging into work? Long forgotten. Calling your mother? Forgotten. The pain in your body? Ignored.
You tell him everything. Every detail of your life, your first memory, your first laugh and cry. All of the times your heart has been shattered, your least favorite colors and favorite words in the world. And he just…listens.
He nods, he smiles, he coos and kisses you throughout all of it. 
And then–
“You know, a while back before we met, I came home and noticed some of my things were missing and messed with. I can’t help but feel like he’s known where I’ve been this whole time.” 
Jake stiffens in your grasp before relaxing. It happened so fast that you don’t think anyone but you would have noticed it.
“Some of my panties were gone, and the batteries in my toys went missing weeks ago–not that it matters now or anything.” You continue, watching his face intently. “ At first I thought that maybe I was just forgetful but– now i know that it really was him.” You pause, smiling at him. “I’m just kind of waiting now, wondering if he’s ever going to try and do it again.”
“Do you want me to kill him?” Jake chuckles out as if to offer a funny little solution, one that he has genuinely considered more times than he can count. And he should have already, honestly.
You feel warmer at the way he makes jokes, but you know better than anyone that Jake jumps into action driven only by rage at times.
“He won’t come near you again, love, haven’t I proved that to you already?” He continues, imagining the blood of his man on his fists again. Imagining the way his bones would crack so beautifully. 
You nod in an almost shy way to him.
“You’re safe with me.” He says, wrapping his arms around himself as you cradle him. “You’re safe with me.” He continues, repeating it more to himself because he feels as though he can’t fail you again, “You’ve always been safe.” 
You haven’t believed words so deeply until you met him. 
“He already fucking knows–” He whispers shortly, cutting himself off. “I’ll kill him.” He whispers a bit louder, uncaring if you heard that first slip of his words.
Something in your brain floods at those words. A confirmation that you’ve seen him break before, and it wasn’t your imagination. Your protective, loving, and sweet boyfriend has a side to him that you’ve yet to truly see. Those words were more believable than any of the sweet things he’s ever said to you. 
And still, you almost want to encourage it, reminding yourself of the image of your ex the day he showed up, all bruised up. And then to the image of Jake with his own little battle scar.
Deep down you think you knew what happened.
And you still wonder how such a perfect man fell into your lap? Your bruised up, pain-loving boyfriend, breaking his soft persona and showing you a glimpse of something that feels….unnervingly beautiful to you.
Unsure, almost, you feel. As happy as you are that he lied to you, you try to not think of how Jake found your ex with nothing more than an out-of-context description of your abuse. You try not to think of the way he looked away from you when you mentioned the items in your apartment that went missing. 
You try not to think about how close he lives to you, and how he always managed to show up when you couldn’t hang out. 
How all of his interests matched your own, up until he never spoke about them again when he started staying with you. 
How he only looks at you, how he only talks to you, and about you.
How he always knew what to say to you.
You try not to think about how you saw him toss his own laundry into your washer many nights ago, seeing a glimpse of what you thought could have been a pair of your own missing panties. Or how he always accidentally picked up your toothbrush rather than his own in the mornings.
You push those thoughts far into the back of your mind, knowing that you were just being paranoid, grasping to not trust a single person in this world as you fall into this life with him. Even if all of those instances were with purpose on his end, you know you’d simply accept them as normal. You’d accept him, you wouldn’t think twice. 
Jake is your only safety. He would never do anything to harm you, he’s proved that. 
You hold his head tighter against your chest, breathing out a sigh and accepting everything at face value, pushing back the slight doubt in your head that everything he has done for you, to you, and with you, isn’t normal. 
“Did you tell him already?” You sigh out in a calmer tone, soothing him with your fingers in his hair. “That you’d kill him? Is that really why you had that bruise?”
Jake stiffens under your grasp briefly. 
“What do you m–” He starts. 
“I won’t ask how,” You cut him off. “But thank you.”
He relaxes, thumbs now rubbing hearts into your skin, stomach bubbling in butterflies. 
“I did.” He now admits reluctantly, feeling dangerously close to a truth you don’t need to see or know about. “I couldn’t just let another person think that you still belong to them.”
You pause, then nuzzle closer to him. 
“I knew from the first time I saw you that I wouldn’t let anyone else touch you.” He continues, spilling and spilling. “I knew that you’d be mine.”
You try not to think too hard about it, asking out gently and instead choosing to just love him harder.
“When was the first time you saw me?”
Jake goes silent and tries to read the air in the room, sensing how relaxed you are against him. 
“Eighteenth of October at the supermarket. We both made spaghetti for dinner that night.” He lies, never intending to admit that the first time he saw you was through your window. Never admitting that he actually already knew you by that eighteenth of October. That he followed you to the market.
He says it so confidently, and the fact that he’s right about what you cooked should scare you. The fact that you must have seen him that day too should make you feel unnerved.
You choose to ignore that too. 
“Was your spaghetti good?” You ask, allowing yourself to spiral into the safety that he offers you. The image of your bruised ex boyfriend bringing joy to you, the idea of Jake keeping his promises making your stomach tingle with even brighter joy.
“No.” He admits with a chuckle. “Yours was probably better.”
“You really would kill him, wouldn’t you?” 
Jake nods.
You trust him. 
He’s not lying. 
He would never lie to you. 
Him knowing what you cooked that night is a coincidence. Him remembering the date and month is just him being mindful. Your lost panties must have gotten tangled in his laundry, surely. He found your ex because you probably let sensitive information slip without realizing it. 
He met your mother and uncle by coincidence. 
He’s the perfect man by chance, and you’re lucky to have him. 
“I love you, you know.” You say, feeling him immediately shift away from your chest to look at you.
The look in his eye when he’s immediately getting on top of you, it’s still as if he’s about to wisp away with you in his arms to another realm. You’ve already been there before, and your body warms at the thought. 
“What did you say?” He asks, voice shaking and somewhat far away from your own dissociated reality. 
“I love you.” You say again, watching his lips quiver, and feeling his hands squeeze you. 
He did it. He’s won. 
And at the end of the day, you don’t think Jake could ever lose. After all, you’ve never felt so safe in a grasp as tight as this one, as painful as this one. You’ve never wanted a man to leave his fingerprints on you so bad. 
As you look at him, seeing him lose himself from reality, you follow suit. Losing yourself with him, feeling that painful grasp on you turn into begging hands. Swelling him under your palms, soothing his stinging skin with your lips, listening to him encourage you, knowing that if your ex ever tried to step into this room, he wouldn’t make it out alive. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
oh, the horrors, amirite?
this is the last of the fic. there is not a part three.
taglist: @skzenhalove , @taetaemylovie, @soocult, @nyanggk, @grilledbananas, @dneltrise, @becc09, @nielle002, @sjyfolder, @sd211, @moonmoongi, @sweetiewolfie, @ksnooppy, @woongkification, @laxatives4hre, @hiddensideofmoon, @mywaaw, @beomstarz, @multifandombtvh, @heeverseblog, @floclover, @elliesuh, @iloveleeknow, @crazydelulu, @dasa3040, @sluttyhee, @bethroedtojae, @cherryunie, @hiamlili, @seojunandsoju, @parksunghoonsgf, @jungwon-xo, @fxiryeon, @jwnghyuns, @juliesblogs
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lustfulslxt · 3 months
Text
What Are You Doing Step Bro? - Chris Sturniolo
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summary : you go on a small trip with your new “family”. you and chris, your stepbrother, test the waters and give into your deepest desires.
warnings : step siblings kink, breeding kink, swearing. think that's it, but probably not. NSFW
a/n : i do not want to hear a single thing about how they're related, it's incest, it's gross, it's weird -- whatever the fuck. there are absolutely no blood relations! if you're not into this kinda thing, simply shut up and keep scrolling while the rest of us get our rocks off :)))))))
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His wavy brown hair falls perfectly over his face as he packs his duffel bag. The moonlight illuminates his prominent cheekbones. His long eyelashes brush over his cheeks every time his eyes flutter, the cool light making his bright blue irises damn near glow. His sharp jaw clenches every time his mind runs back to this dreaded 'family' trip. His muscly arms flex with every movement he makes. Every so often, his tongue flicks over his pretty, pink lips. Oh, those lips, how badly I want to feel them dance across my skin. I shouldn't be thinking these kinds of things, but I can't help it. The way he carries himself, so confident and sexy.
It's been a year since our families moved in together. Him, his father, my mother, and me. Our parents got married out of the blue. Honestly, I hadn't even seen much of his father before they announced their engagement, so, it was a surprise they had sprung on us. Then, abruptly uprooting us from our own lives just to come together as a supposed family. We're not family.
His father tries too hard, and Chris is just a douchebag. We bicker so much, yet I can't help but feel extremely attracted to him. There's no doubt in my mind, if he wasn't my stepbrother, I would have been pounced. When we're arguing about who's turn it is for the bathroom, sometimes, I imagine locking us in there and jumping his bones. I know I'm not imagining things, there's an extreme tension between us. However, there's nothing I can do about it.
"Have you even started packing?" His deep voice snaps me from my spiraling thoughts.
I scoff, "Of course, I'm not an idiot. I don't wait until the last minute to do things, like you."
He shakes his head, a smirk pulling to his luscious lips. "I make it work, sweetheart. Just cause you like to be the obedient good little girl."
I turn my head away from him to hide the flush in my cheeks, "Don't call me that."
"Which one?" His smirk grows, "Sweetheart? Or good little girl?"
"Don't call me either of them!" I snap, fulling turning my body to the opposite side of the room.
I can feel my skin burning with desire. I mentally curse myself at my bodily reactions to his simple, yet teasing words. He knows what he's doing, and it's driving me mad. I huff a little before walking off in the direction of my bedroom, his faint chuckling being heard before I close my door.
I jump onto my bed, my limbs sprawling out, and look up at the ceiling. My lips curve upwards, a shit eating grin planting itself on my face. God, I hate him. More so, I hate that I don’t hate him. I hate that I want him as bad as I do. It’s not right.
I spend the rest of the night lying in bed, scrolling through various social medias to keep my mind off of the boy in the room right next to mine. It only seems to work half of the time, my stupid brain continuously wanders back to him. Ugh, why would my mother do this to me? She knows how much I lack self control.
The next morning, I spend the first couple of hours getting last minute things ready for our trip. Maybe I lied to Chris last night, saying I had already packed. He doesn’t need to know.
I just got out of the shower and into my room, still wrapped in a towel. I sit on my bed, letting myself cool off and air dry a little bit. After a few minutes of doing nothing, I stand up to dry my hair, only realizing my blow dryer is in the bathroom. I groan and make my way back out into the hall, but when I get to the bathroom door, I realize the shower is running. Of course he’d be in there when I need to grab stuff. After a split second of pondering, I decide to just quickly grab my blow dryer and my brush.
Upon opening the door, steam flows out of the bright room, and I can feel the humidity in there. I scurry to the counter, quickly grabbing my things, when I pause. My eyes staring into the mirror, solely focused on the scene behind me. Our shower door is clear, and though it’s foggy, I can still see right through it.
There, Chris is, in all his glory. His body glistens, water steadily pouring down over him. His hair is stuck to his forehead, his head tilted down while he lets the water run over him. His lean body curving in all the right places. My eyes involuntarily follow his figure down, locking right below his waist. My mouth waters at the sight. His dick hangs down, the same color as his lips, definitely above average. Even from far away, I can see the veins running along side it. My mouth slightly parts at the sight.
“You just gonna stand there and stare at me all day, or you gonna get in?” He asks, his head still facing the floor.
I gasp, slightly embarrassed that he caught me staring at him. “Don’t be weird!”
“Says the one looking at me like she wants to take a bite.” He chuckles, finally turning his head in my direction.
My face catches fire, the rosy shade deepening the longer we make eye contact. I force myself to look away, quickly grabbing my things and running out of there. How humiliating.
Shutting myself in my room, I pause and let out a deep breath. Before I can help it, another grin makes its way to my face. Wow, he’s hung. I shake my head, trying to rid my mind of certain thoughts. Why am I like this?
I set my stuff on my desk, plugging the blow dryer in to get to work. Making sure my towel is securely wrapped around my chest, I start to dry my hair, brushing through it as I go. My hair is super thick, so it usually takes a good minute to fully dry and get it how I like it.
The loud machine blasts in my ears, so loud that I hadn’t notice the presence in my room. The feeling of warm fingertips brushing the back of my thigh, right below my towel, causes me to jump and shriek in fear, my towel falling in the process. I quickly turn around to be met with Chris and his infamous smirk. I hurriedly bend down, yanking my towel back up to cover myself, but it’s too late. He already saw everything, and it’s evident on his features.
“What are you doing?” I squeal.
“What?” He asks, feigning innocence. “You can look at me, but I can’t look at you? That’s not fair, is it?”
“Chris.” I say, swallowing my nerves. “What do you want?”
He grins, flashing his pearly white teeth. “I’m not too sure I’m allowed to answer that. But I won’t tell if you won’t.”
I open my mouth to say something, yet fall short of words. I can’t speak, I can’t even think. He licks his lips and steps closer to me, his hand now brushing against the front of my thigh, just below the towel. My breath hitches in my throat, my skin tingling underneath his touch. He flattens his whole palm against my thigh, leaning in even closer to me.
“Chris!” His dad’s voice calls out from somewhere on the farther side of the house.
He tsks, his lips brushing against my ear, “I guess you’ll have to find out another time, sweetheart.”
Without another word, he walks off, leaving me standing there with a slack jaw as I stare into the distance. I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want him. He’s actually going to be the death of me. He makes it so easy to want to be bad.
I swallow, attempting to lubricate my now dry throat, and get back to getting ready. The entire time, Chris and the way his skin felt on mine never leaving my thoughts. In fact, I spent the remainder of my morning fantasizing about what it would be like to have him. All of him. Safe to say, I had to change my panties before leaving my room.
It's been a couple of hours since my little run in with Chris. For the most part, I've managed to keep myself occupied to keep him off of my mind. Yet, every now and then, I can feel my thoughts slipping into a steamy abyss filled with erotic fantasies involving my stepbrother. We're all getting ready to leave, taking trips out to the car, filling it with all of our bags and whatnot.
"The resort just called." My mother announces as we all gather at the front door. "Our room is ready for us."
"Splendid! Let's get this show on the road!" Chris' dad cheers, running off to the car with my mom.
Chris and I watch them before looking at each other. A sly smirk pulls to his lips, yet again, and he nods ahead of him. "After you, sweetheart."
I roll my eyes at the nickname and walk towards the backseat of the car. Whistling rings through the air, causing me to snap my head back. Chris is standing in the same spot, looking me up and down with his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Pervert." I mumble, lifting myself onto the seat and start crawling over towards the opposite side of the car.
Before I can even get to my seat, I leap forward with a yelp emitting from my mouth. My head shoots back, my eyes locking with Chris'. He's got that same devilish grin on his face that makes me want to drop my panties.
"What's wrong?" My mom asks from the front seat.
"He-" I start, only to be cut off by Chris.
"She hit her knee on the door."
I glare at him as he climbs in next to me. He shoots me a wink, which I only huff at. I lean over and pinch his arm, causing him to yank it away from me.
"What was that for?" He questions.
"You pinched my ass!" I whisper shout, appalled by his behavior, yet at the same time, turned on.
"Don't act like you didn't like it." He whispers back, his tongue running over his teeth.
I simply shut up, unable to disagree because he's right. I did like it. In fact, I loved it. I roll my eyes once more, annoyance flooding my veins. Not annoyed at him, more so at myself for being so affected by him. It's not right. I close my eyes and lean my head against the window, hoping sleep overcomes me.
I don't know how long it's been before my eyes flutter open, the sound of faint music waking me. My eyes squint, adjusting to the streetlamps that shine as we pass by them. I'm suddenly very aware of a warmth to my right. Looking over, I see Chris sat next to me rather than the opposite window like he was before.
"What are you doing?" I ask, my voice coming out in a low tone.
He looks over at me with furrowed eyebrows, "Minding my business. You should try it sometime, baby."
"Don't be a dick. I just woke up and you're basically sitting on top of me." I scoff, spreading my legs to push his away from me and give myself more room.
That might not have been a good idea. Chris' eyes trail down my body, boring into my parted thighs. I can practically see the gears turning in his head. He, yet again, smirks at me, licking his lips.
He leans into my ear, his warm breath fanning my ear, his voice husky. "Admit it, sweetheart. You'd love it if I was on top of you."
His hand brushes the top of my thigh, his fingertips lightly grazing my bare skin. I have to bite my lip to hold back the breathy moan that threatens to escape due to his words and his touch. When I don't say anything, his hand presses more firmly into me. Very slowly, his hand trails higher and higher, applying the same amount of pressure the whole way up. Today would be the day that I chose to wear a skirt.
My eyes are wide as I watch his hand, my lips slightly parting. I can feel the heat rushing to my face, as well as my core. I feel like I'm on fire. I quickly look at him and notice his gaze hasn't wavered from my face, his brain soaking in my reaction to his movements, trying to burn the image in his mind, so he never forgets it.
A shaky breath leaves my mouth as his hand slides under my skirt, disappearing to do God knows what. I'm stuck in place, not daring to move. I want to see how far he's going to take this; I don't want him to stop. I let out a small gasp as his fingers make contact with my clothed pussy. But just as quick as they're there, a voice moves through the air, and they're gone.
"Are you guys hungry?" His dad asks us, completely oblivious to what his son was doing.
Chris looks at me, awaiting an answer. I gulp, shaking my head, "N-no."
A small chuckle leaves Chris' mouth, his lips brushing against my ear. "I can feel how wet you are. Makes me want to bend you over the console and devour you."
"Oh my God." I mutter, my ears growing hot as I squeeze my legs shut and turn as much as I can to the door.
There's no way I can make it through this trip, absolutely no way. If he keeps this up, I'm going to lose it. I don't even know what he's trying to get out of this. Is he trying to humiliate me? Does he actually want to fuck? I groan, tossing my head back. I'm so screwed.
--
After what felt like the longest car ride of my life, we finally get to our destination. Our parents wanted to stop a get something to eat, so it took even longer to get to the hotel. We make our way inside, bags on top of bags in our hands. After we get checked in, my mom hands me a room key.
"You guys can head up, me and Jerry are going to make a quick pitstop." She informs Chris and me.
I look at her with an 'are you serious?' look, before my eyes subconsciously advert to Chris. He smiles at her and nods, letting them walk off to wherever. I keep my mouth shut and head to the elevators, him following my tail.
We get to the elevator and only have to wait a moment before the doors open. Walking inside, I glance at the room key to confirm the floor level. Without a word, I press the number '6', the doors shutting almost instantly.
"You know-" Chris begins, a slight curve on his lips. "You can lie to yourself all you want, but I can see it all over you. You want me as bad as I want you."
I harshly swallow, looking for the right words to say. Again, I'm left stuck stupid. How does he do this? The simplest statements leave me dazed and practically malfunctioning. He slowly walks over to me, backing me into the wall. I stare up at him, anticipating his every move. His body is pressed firmly against mine, causing me to shiver. His face is millimeters from mine. He lifts his free hand, wrapping it around my neck. My breath catches in my throat, my core throbbing at the small yet extreme gesture.
His fingertips slowly trail upwards, grazing over my chin. His thumb rubs across my lips, putting pressure on my bottom one and gently pulling it down. My lips are parted for just a moment before my bottom lips bounces back after he removes his finger. His hand grasps my jaw, his face inching closer and closer to mine.
"I'm going to destroy you." He whispers against my lips.
Before anything else can take place, the elevator dings and the doors open, snapping me from the trance he always seems to put me in. I quickly compose myself and scurry out of there, following the signs on the walls to get to our room. Once I get there, I swipe the card, running in the second the light clicks green. Chris has to catch the door with his foot, because I was not waiting for him.
Getting in, I take my time to admire the place. Everything looks so elegant and luxury. Since our parents are off doing whatever, I take the liberty to choose my bedroom for the week. The first one I walk into is amazing, and I'm satisfied with it. Tossing my bags at the foot of the bed, I lay back on it, stretching my limbs out. My short-lived peace disturbed when Chris comes strolling in with his bags.
"I already got dibs on this room." I say, pushing myself up on my elbows.
He snickers, "Jokes on you, we're roomies now."
"Excuse me?" I gape at him, "Yeah, no."
"Actually, we are. This is a two-bedroom suite."
"Are you serious right now?" I frown.
He hums, "Mhm. As serious as I was about what I said in the elevator."
My face grows hot, and I have to purse my lips to prevent them from curving up into a smile. I'm actually terrible, because why do I love this?
"We're here!" My mom's voice sounds from the living room of the suite.
I let out a breath, slightly relieved, yet slightly disappointed. I'm so conflicted. I can't help but want all the time in the world with Chris, but also never want to be alone with him. I can feel myself losing control, ready to give into the strong temptation. He's not making it easy either.
"I see you guys picked your room." Jerry grins, peeking his head in with a smile.
"As in we have to share?" I question.
"Yeah. I thought your mom told you."
I don't miss Chris' smirk as he listens to us, clearly enjoying the idea of sharing a room. I don't understand why my mother hates me. How could she sign me up for this without even talking to me about it?
"We're all family now, it's no big deal." I hear her chime in as she rounds the corner.
"Yeah, right." I mutter, my face falling at the simple statement.
It's just a slap in the face, a reminder that Chris and I can never be. Regardless of whatever type of relation, it just can't happen. I'll never see them as family, but my mother clearly does. Maybe it's best not to tempt anything.
"I call the right side." Chris smiles at me, our parents now long gone.
"Nice try. You're getting the floor or the couch." I roll my eyes.
He laughs, "Good one, sweetheart. Admit it, you can't wait to share a bed with me."
I only glare at him, a slight pout on my face.
"Cheer up, baby. Just wait until you see I sleep naked." He mutters in my ear, before leaving.
"Fuck me." I whisper to myself, already knowing I'm in for it tonight.
--
After unpacking my things, I head out into the living room. My mother and Jerry are sitting on the sofa, so I take the loveseat. I sit sideways, kicking my legs up across the rest of it. I cross my arms, relaxing, sinking into the plush cushions. Looking around, I notice the both of them are dressed up. Did we have plans that I'm not aware of?
"Are we going somewhere?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.
"Oh, no." Jerry shakes his head, "I'm taking your mom out tonight. You and Chris will have the place to yourselves."
Just as he says that Chris strolls around the loveseat. He lifts my feet and sits down, placing them on his lap. I go to pull back, but his grip on me is firm. Without a word, his hands are kneading the soft tissue of my feet. I look up at him, my eyes almost submissive, cause why is he being like this?
"When are you guys leaving?" Chris asks them. 
"Our reservation is at 8."
I glance at the time on my phone, "It's 7:15 now."
They both gasp in unison, instantly getting up to rush out the door.
"You're leaving?!" I shriek, now realizing I'll be left alone with the devil himself.
"Yes, honey. You'll be fine." My mom pats my arm. "You'll have Chris to keep you company. Help yourselves to whatever."
"Make sure you take care of her." Jerry points a finger at his son.
Chris smirks, eyes locking with mine. "You know I will."
I gulp, my eyes watching them leave as they call out quick 'I love you's'. The sound of the door clicking shut practically rattles my brain, my breathing slightly labored. I feel so nervous, already knowing it's going to be a long night.
"Want to watch a movie?" Chris asks me.
My eyes widen in surprise, that's probably the most normal thing he's said to me all day. He's been super flirty and seductive, and it's working so bad. I've never been so conflicted in my life. I know it's not right, and if anyone were to see what's happening, we'd certainly be locked away, but I can't help it. I'm yearning for him. His sultry words and lustful touches leave me throbbing every single time. I feel like I'm going to explode in his presence.
"I'll take that as a yes." He says, before teasing, "Unless you had something else in mind."
I groan, "Just put something on. I need a water."
I get up and saunter to the kitchen, my insides burning at the thought of what can occur tonight. I feel like it's inevitable. At this rate, if he keeps going, I'm folding like origami. I open the fridge and grab two waters out, immediately opening one and downing half of it. I have to practically mentally prepare myself just to go back in there. Once I do, I notice Chris now sitting in the middle of the loveseat. I choose not to say anything this time and simply sit beside him.
He already has a movie started, so we sit in silence as it plays out in front of us. The entire time, my mind is elsewhere. I can't focus on the movie at all. I keep crossing and uncrossing my legs, feeling uncomfortable. I can't get Chris' words out of my head.
I'm going to destroy you.
Oh, how badly I wish for that right now. His hands caressing every inch of my body. His mouth tasting every bit of skin. His body flush against mine. His dick stretching me in all the right ways, drilling into my sweet spot over and over and over. I have to clench my thighs, the inner turmoil growing. I feel like the air around us is thick, making it almost impossible to breathe. Tension running high between us. Surprisingly, we make it through the movie without any slick remarks or unwarranted touches. Part of me is bummed, yet I force the disappointment down, knowing it's for the best.
"Are you hungry?" Chris asks as we both get up from the sofa.
I shake my head, knowing I won't be able to eat with my current state. "No. I think I'm just gonna shower and hit the sheets."
He nods, "Okay."
I walk into our room, grabbing a towel and heading to the conjoined bathroom. I just need a quick shower to soothe me. The sexual frustration built up in me is almost unbearable, I feel feral. After turning the water on and letting it heat up, I strip from my clothes and get in. I stand underneath the showerhead, the hot water trickling down my skin. I stay there, eyes closed, trying to force the craving for Chris away. After a moment, I quickly wash up, then get out.
The bathroom is foggy, steam wafting through the air. The mirror is covered in condensation, I'm unable to see myself. I dry off, wrapping the towel around my body and heading out into the room. I pause in my steps, seeing Chris sprawled out on the bed.
"Sorry. Didn't think you'd be in here." I mutter, suddenly self-conscious being in just a towel.
"All good, sweetheart." He replies, his eyes scanning over me. "Come join me."
I swallow, "I have to get dressed."
"Come here." He repeats, his eyes dark with what I can only assume is lust. 
I stand still, staring at him. I'm actually contemplating crawling into bed with my stepbrother, naked. There's no way I'm doing this. I keep cursing myself in my head as my feet bring me to the side of the bed that he's lying on. I stand there, looking down at him while he stares up at me. His hand comes out, his fingertips brushing against the hem of the towel, just like before. My heart is beating out of my chest right now, I wouldn't be surprised if it just exploded.
I'm taken by surprise when he swiftly grabs ahold of my wait, pulling me onto his lap. My thighs straddle his, my hands nervously keeping hold of my towel in attempt to keep it secure. However, my efforts prove futile when his hands grab the top of it, slowly unraveling it and letting it fall from my torso. I feel dizzy, my entire chest exposed to him. My stomach tightens, my veins flooded with anticipation.
"You're so pretty." He whispers, his fingers running over my abdomen.
"Thank you." I whisper back, my desire for him taking over me completely.
I can't think of anything else except for this moment right now, and what's bound to take place. His hands run up my arms and I can feel the goosebumps littering my skin. My breathing is erratic, I can't focus.
"Do I make you nervous?" He asks, his head tilted slightly.
I shake my head, unable to form words.
"Are you lying to me?"
My mouth has run dry. I can't even speak. My mind is hazy with lust. I want him so bad. I can feel the wetness pooling in between my legs, my core aching for his touch. He licks his lips as his eyes rake over my body. His hands run over my shoulders and down my chest, inevitably taking hold of my breasts. I can't help the whimper that falls from my lips. Finally. He grips the plush skin, squeezing gently yet firm. He moves them in circular motions, his palms applying just the right pressure to my sensitive buds.
"So perfect." He mumbles, his voice raspy.
My head lolls to the side, indulging in the feeling of his hands on me. My eyes flutter closed as he continues to knead them. A gasp slips from me when I feel his warm, wet mouth wrap around one of my nipples. My back involuntarily arches into him, his face full of chest. His touch becomes hungrier, his mouth now harshly sucking while his fingers work the opposite tit. Soft moans escape my mouth, my pussy throbbing for him.
He pulls away from my chest, his hands gliding up my back. I can feel his bulge beneath me, and I have to fight the urge to grind against it. He suddenly pulls me down, an abrupt moan emitting from my throat as the quick movement causes his dick to rub against my clit. His hand grabs ahold of my jaw, pulling my face into his.
He stares at my face, his eyes trying to read my emotions. "Say you want this."
I nod.
"Say it."
"I want this." I reply, my voice quiet yet sure.
With that, his lips smash into mine. Our mouths move together, hungry and feverish. Our tongues fighting for dominance, taking turns exploring one another's mouths. Our heads turn every which way, allowing more access. Our teeth clash together, saliva practically dripping out of our mouths. My hands run through his hair while his run along my body, pulling me impossibly closer.
Without one swift motion, I'm lying on my back with Chris towering over me. My towel is now completely removed, lying next to us on the bed. His hand turns my head to the side, his mouth now working on my neck. His tongue licking over the skin, teeth biting down, sucking every part. My breathing is quick, my body tingling with a burning sensation, desperate for more.
"Chris." I breathe out in a whine.
He hums, "Mm, I knew you couldn't resist me."
"Please." I whine again.
"Begging me like such a good girl, just like I said." He smirks against my skin, moving down my chest.
My hands grip at the back of his shirt, tugging at it, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He gets the hint and sits up, removing it with ease. His hands move down to his sweats, yanking the drawstring loose. In one quick movement, he's left in his boxers. I can see his dick fighting against his boxers, begging to be released. I can't help but reach out and palm him through the cloth.
He tosses his head back with a low moan, "Fuck."
His hand reaches forward, spreading my legs open for him. My pussy on show, leaking with arousal. He's practically drooling at the sight before him. His fingers trail up my thigh in an agonizingly slow pace, leaving my hips thrusting up for just the slightest touch.
"So needy." He smirks, "Such a naughty girl."
Finally, his fingers make contact with my aching clit, eliciting a long moan from me. He rubs it in slow circles, making my body tremble with every movement. He stops for a brief moment as he plunges a finger into my entrance, my body jolting from the sudden sensation.
"So, fucking wet." He groans in contentment.
His finger continues pumping in and out me with his thumb rubbing my clit, and I can't help but grind into his hand. It feels so good, but I want more. To my dissatisfaction, he pulls away, leaving me to cry out at the loss of pleasure. I watch as he pulls his boxers off, tossing them with his sweatpants. His fully erect dick flies up, slapping his stomach. His tip is an angry red, needy for stimulation. I saw it in the shower, but now, up close and personal, I am clenching, ready to wrap around him.
His hands grip my hips, flipping me onto my side. He takes ahold of my thigh, hiking it up for better access. His opposite hand grabs ahold of his cock, stroking it before rubbing the tip through my folds. I bite my lip, my stomach tightening, bracing for penetration, my pussy desperate for it. He slowly sinks into me, fully bottoming out. My jaw falls slack, my mouth vocalizing a drawled-out moan. He shudders inside of me, his eyes closing at the feeling of my pussy snugly swallowing him.
His thrusts are slow and hard, setting a rhythm. One of my hands clench the sheets, the other one rubbing his stomach. My eyes squeeze shut, the pressure instantly building in my stomach. I've been waiting for this all day. His free hand runs up my back and around my chest, harshly squeezing my tit. Lewd moans fill the room; him grunting with every deep thrust, constant whines falling from my lips.
"Taking me so well. Just like a good little slut." He says, his hand moving from my boob to my neck.
His strokes pick up in speed, the bed shaking with every thrust. The knot in my stomach continues to grow, my orgasm sneaking up on me faster than ever. He's fucking me so good. I can't hold back the noises he's pulling out of me. The tip of his dick jams into my sweet spot with just the right amount of force. I'm unraveling fairly quickly. It's so wrong but it feels so right.
"Yes, right there." I cry out, clenching around him. "F-fuck, fuck, fuck."
"You close, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock, hm?" He groans out, his body leaning over mine.
"Fuck y-yes. God, please don't stop." I moan, my loud voice bouncing off the walls.
He starts fucking into me even faster, the pleasure almost overwhelming. "I don't plan on it."
My legs shake below him, my knuckles gripping the sheets until they're white. His breath on the back of my neck, his moaning in my ear, both sending me over the edge. My body convulses as euphoria takes over. Pornographic moans leave my mouth as I clench around him, letting go. My juices flowing out, completely coating his dick and dripping down the both of us.
"You feel so good." He whines, "Made just for me."
The bliss is at an all-time high, my mind completely fogged with lust for him. I never want this night to end.
"Mm, want you to fill me up." I whine, pushing back onto him, meeting his thrusts.
His hips sputter as he moans, "Yeah? Filthy little slut wants her stepbrother's baby in her?"
I can't even respond, my mouth hung open as screams leave it. It happens so suddenly, another wave of pleasure washing over me at his words. My hand clings to him, wanting to feel all of him. I'm trembling underneath him as my second orgasm hits. His groans grow louder as his thrusts grow sloppy. With just a few more strokes, his body is heaving over mine as he empties himself inside of me. He pumps a few more times, before completely pulling out and sitting back. Both of us struggle to catch our breaths, exerted from that entire moment.
Suddenly, I'm crying out again as he shoves two fingers into me, pushing his cum back in. "Aht, aht! Can't have that."
I'm still shaking with aftershocks when he lies down beside me, his fingers making their way to my lips and into my mouth. My tongue glides over them, sucking off our mixture. He pulls them away with a groan and turns my head towards his. He places another kiss on my lips; hard and passionate.
"We should probably get dressed." I breathe out after a minute.
"No, just stay like this for a little bit longer. I'll make sure it's taken care of before they get back." He whispers, pulling me into him.
I want to protest, but I'm tired and the thought of sleeping in his arms makes my stomach flutter. So, that's what I do.
--
a/n : ah bye why do i need this so bad? hope you like it! if it's not for you, just shut up k thanks xx
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ellieswifie · 7 months
Note
hello, i love your writing, could u write another boyfriend! head canon but with chris?
︿︿ ੈ[ 📷 ] ༉‧₊˚✧
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warnings: boyfriend!chris, completely fluff
authors note: yes ofc!! i actually got two other requests asking for a boyfriend!chris hc so i hope you all enjoy this!! thank you for all the love!!
˗ˋ.*✧·˚ ೃ࿔₊•
love language. chris love language is one hundred percent words of affirmation and gift giving. he’s complementing you every second of the day just to remind you that he always loves you. he’ll make cute little diy gifts for you the even mean the littlest, but he knows it makes you smile.
"i made you heart out of my gum wrapper."
"i bought you flowers because they made me think about you."
just small things like that would make his insides fill with butterflies and you feel very loved.
compliments. chris for sure compliments you any time of the day and just about everywhere. even when you feel horrible and gross, he’ll always tell you how beautiful you look and how much you make him smile.
pet names. now chris himself said that he would only refer to you as your name if you were dating, but let’s be real. he’ll do call you the most cringiest nicknames for girlfriends it would be so hard to tell if he was joking or not. he’ll definitely call you baby and babe plenty of times when he’s with you.
clingy. as the youngest sibling myself, i find myself very clingy when i’m around someone i love or very much care for. chris would totally always want to be near you or at least want to be touching you all the time.
you’d be taking a shower or doing your makeup in the bathroom, and chris would be sitting on the floor minding his own business but just enjoying your company.
when your cuddling or hugging, he likes to nudge his head in the crook of your neck because it makes him feel safe and never want to let go of you. he loves holding you and just always being with you.
pda. chris is all for pda. he likes just always touching you in public, or standing close beside you, giving you quick kisses, he just loves showing you off in public. sometimes he’ll straight up just make out with you when your sitting in the living room of his house and matt and nick are a few feet away.
they both extremely hate it, but chris loves just always touching you and kissing you.
"again guys?" matt would whine, covering his eyes. "get a fucking room."
long conversations. chris loves to talk to you and make you laugh all the time. when your feeling down and just want to talk, he’ll do everything in his power to make you feel comfortable and still have a smile on your face.
car rides. since chris can’t drive, when ever you, him, and his brothers are driving together he loves to sit in the backseat with you and sit as humanly close as possible. when you are driving, if you can or want to, and it’s just the two of you guys, chris loves to hold your hand or thigh while your driving. he’s definitely a passenger princess.
staying in. chris for sure prefers staying in then going out. he likes cuddling up on the couch or bed watching netflix with you or even with his brothers too. mostly he doesn’t like going out because he can’t take you anywhere without matt having to drive you guys.
supportive. no matter what’s going on in either of your lives, you guys are both every supportive of each others success, but chris is definitely more supportive of everything positive going on in your life. he makes sure you are always loved and that you feel safe.
teasing. chris loves light teasing. when he asks you if your a chris girl one day, he’ll talk about you being a chris girl about everyday.
overall, chris would be the boyfriend you know you can always smile and feel yourself around. he’ll make you comfortable and safe, and most of all love you very much.
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mysticmellowlove · 4 months
Text
Roasted Beans - Daily Routine
warnings; nasty yan, gross yan, yan male, sub yan, gn reader, cum eating, non-con, oblivious reader,
note; i'm building a catalogue of yans now! bowen, lex/noel, seth, my secret project ;) and now cutie-pie oliver!
It's easy to hide what I do during the autumn months. Everyone loves caramel in autumn. It's easy to hide cum in their caramel latte. It was part of the reason why I liked autumn so much.
Working as a barista in a local cafe wasn't the best job but for what I wanted to accomplish it was perfect. No cities, no bustle, predictable customers and old women who like to tell me about their grandchildren. It was a completely straightforward day. It was perfect for someone who wanted to simply float on by, enjoy their life and relax to watch the world pass. Someone like me, exactly like me.
A smile crossed my face as the bell to the family-owned coffee shop and book cafe opened. There they were in all their glory, their overalls fastened with a knot instead of a buckle. They had told me once that some of the horses had gotten a bit wild. This was one of the reasons I loved working here. My favourite farmhand came in around twelve every day to treat themselves to a latte and something to bite.
"Welcome back." I smiled warmly as they made their way up to the counter, making sure to wipe their boots at the door even though I told them I didn't mind mopping up any residual mud. They grinned at me as they leaned against the counter, their muscles bulging from all the farm work. I had to take deep breaths to calm myself.
"And good morning to you too Oliver." They hummed as they fished their wallet out of their pant pockets. I already knew what drink they would order but they often changed their food item for something special. I swallowed as I watched them scan the display case.
"I'll have one of the cupcakes today I think." They grinned as they pointed to the small ball-like carrot cakes I had baked this morning. I beamed, I had made them a very special one actually. I was hoping they would choose the cupcakes.
"Right then, a cupcake and a latte, salted caramel right?" I wondered as I punched in their total, making sure to add a little discount. It wasn't as if I was babying them, I just wanted them to have some extra cash... of course it was a little selfish though. Extra cash in the bank meant the possibility of a little present for me, or at least that's what I hoped. I knew they liked me, they called me 'sweetheart' sometimes. Jokingly albeit but the hind mind was a powerful force.
"Sure thing." They nodded and tapped their beat-up card before sending me a little mock salute as they went to their usual table. I buzzed as I walked over to the coffee machine, they were in the counter's blind spot which wasn't that great for me. I couldn't watch them enjoy the things I had made but... that meant that there was no way they would know about the extra touch I added to their drinks. My face warmed at the thought.
Since it was such a small cafe there weren't any other attendees today, which again was perfect. Usually around lunchtime the owners would dip down to the primary school and take their daughter out for lunch. I was completely alone, just the way I liked it.
The machine steamed as I made their drink, mixing in the sweet caramel syrup as I loaded the coffee and milk over the top. All I had to do now was duck into the kitchen. I looked around the cafe and once I knew the coast was clear I made my way into the back, staff only.
Quickly I pulled my dick out of my pants, already half hard just from looking at them. A shudder rocked through me as I let my fingers dance on the head of my cock for a moment, imagining that it was them touching me. The thought got me hot and bothered and soon enough I was ready to start.
I had gotten into a nasty habit of doing this with their drinks lately. It had been so long since we first met and they hadn't made a move yet, it was only reasonable that I get a little impatient. So I took to mixing my cum into their drinks. At first, I only swiped my finger over my leaking head and put that in but now... nothing less than one release would suffice.
I tugged my cock as I bit down on my lip to keep my moans silent. I had gotten good at quick sessions, especially since I was still on the job. All I had to do was think of them drinking me in like this, something so intimate and wholly mine... inside them. A flush shot down my back.
My moan built up into a strangled cough as I felt my cock twitch and release, thick ropes of cum dripped into the hot coffee. The cup nearly burnt my hand as I looked down at the mixture for a moment before I took a whisk to it. I had to make sure that it was hidden, it was still a secret and if I was being honest it would probably stay a secret.
I hummed as I tucked my cock back in my pants and pulled out one of the 'special' cupcakes I had made. The two were similar in more ways than one. I plated the cupcake and walked out into the main room once more, breathing deeply to try and will away my blushed face.
With one final caramel swirl, I walked over and placed the two dishes in front of them.
"Here we go, a cupcake and a caramel latte." I smiled as they looked up at me.
"Thanks, you're coffee is always the best!" I nodded as I returned to the counter to watch for other customers. I knew my coffee was the best, it was made only for them.
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soulprompts · 2 years
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𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 (𝐏𝐓. 𝟏)
so, i absolutely love cooking! it's a passion of mine, i've been cooking for my family for years, people seem to find my food edible enough, and i recently found myself unable to cook at all for about a week, resulting in this little list coming into existence! i'm most likely going to make more of these, simply because the dynamics in a kitchen are varied as hell, right? we have romantic couples who cook together as a hobby, there's professional restaurant kitchen settings, baking oriented stuff, cooking with kids, there's a LOT to be done w the topic! so these are more for the chaos of someone who cannot boil an egg to save their life, vs. someone who enjoys cooking and is widely considered to be a dab hand at it! DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST! but i do hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed making it!
" hey, hey, it's okay! we'll scrape off the burnt bits! "
" here, let me chop the onions, okay? you can dice the peppers and beef; just be sure to do them on separate boards, yeah? "
" you... you know the wine was for the stew, don't you?! "
" i swear to you, i don't know how this happened. i followed every single instruction, word for word! "
" taste this and tell me what you think! "
" oh my god... this is AMAZING! you should have your own cooking show! "
" you're kidding me! no way this whole thing is vegan! it's just too good! "
" so, um... i might have possibly accidentally tipped the entire jar of cayenne pepper into the soup... and by might have, i mean definitely. "
" i think i'm gonna have to ask you to leave the kitchen before you hurt somebody. "
" it says here to fold in the eggs... now, tell me, how exactly does one do that? "
" i might have over-exaggerated my cooking skills... and blown up the oven. "
" look, it sounds gross, but i'm telling you, when it's cooked right, it's the best thing ever! "
" i lied to my date and now they think i'm this amazing cook when i'm absolutely not, so please, can you spare me the lecture and just teach me how to cook? "
" woah, woah, woah... try chopping like this. yeah, that's it. you won't chop off your hand this way. "
" so, um... how exactly did it manage to stay frozen solid on the inside, but scorch to a crisp on the outside? "
" okay, remember when it asked for fifty grams of sugar? yeah. i accidentally used salt. "
" well, at least we know the smoke alarms work, right? "
" i ruined three knives, i have a roast chicken embedded in my ceiling, my oven officially needs therapy, and so do i! wanna call it quits and order a pizza? "
" i swear, you're one of those kitchen gods who can make ice cubes taste fantastic! "
" this is the fun part! take that tenderiser, and beat the absolute crap out of that pile of steaks. "
" i'm trying so hard not to judge you right now, but... onion goggles?! "
" how on earth did you get pasta sauce on the ceiling? "
" you know every single firefighter in town knows my name? and my top three favorite comfort foods to bring each time i trigger the fire alarm? yeah. that's my culinary reputation. "
" hey. it's okay. this isn't the first time i've burnt dinner. i have taco bell on speed dial. "
" sometimes recipes just don't work out. and that's okay! what matters is that you tried. "
" i didn't realize it was even possible to burn water! "
" ah... i see where you went wrong. the recipe uses paprika. this is chilli powder. "
" quit eating the batter, or we'll have no cupcakes at all! "
" no! no way. i'm not tasting anything cooked by you; not since your orange juice gave me food poisoning. "
" the last time i tried to cook, my pot roast ended up on fire and put a hole in my dry wall. i had to hang paintings over it until i could refill the crater. "
" no, you cannot cook chicken medium-rare. wanna know why? because that means it's raw. and you'll end up with food poisoning. and i'll have to tell you what a moron you were to even think that was an acceptable thing to do in the first place. "
" i thought you teaching me how to cook would be all soft and friendly, like the great british bake-off! but it's more like hell's kitchen. "
" no tears in my kitchen, thank you! "
" six fires in three hours is your personal best! only problem is, we're making fruit salad... "
" i understand that it's meant to be salted caramel, but... exactly how much salt did you use?! "
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goldenempyrean · 1 year
Note
Fic idea - natasha always stifles because thats what she was conditioned to do in the red room. Wanda or R is always trying to get to her stop but maybe one day she gets sick and is too tired to stifle anymore. I love ur writing btw ❤️
Let Them Out
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〚 Notes - I thought this req was really cute so hopefully you like this!! :D My reqs are still open too! 〛
〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛
〚 Summary - Nat's got some bad habits. You help her to break one. 〛
〚 Wordcount - 940 〛
〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙
╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝
Natasha had some bad habits. Leaving her clothes on the floor, using up the last of your shampoo and biting her nails were just a few. The worst one in your mind however was when she stifled her sneezes. 
The first time Nat had sneezed, you almost completely missed it. The two of you were spooning in bed one lazy morning when she suddenly tensed up and her head bobbed forward a little. Daresay if you’d had been a little bit more sleep you would’ve missed the whole thing altogether. But when she repeated the action again only a minute later you couldn’t stop yourself from asking about it. 
“Natty?” 
“Hmm?” She responded groggily. 
“Are you okay?” You asked casually, slipping your hard round her waist and pressing your forehead into the back of her neck. 
She was still half-asleep herself and she yawned widely as she turned over to face you, “Yeah, I’m fine, why?” 
“Well, you just went like all tight?” You explained, what you had saw to the best of your abilities, looking curiously into those big emerald eyes of hers, “Y’know? When you bopped your head down?” 
“Sorry I was sneezing,” Natasha let out a sheepish laugh, “I do that sometimes, y’know being a human being and all.” 
You smiled at her response and snuggled closer to her, thinking it was just a harmless quirk. But as time went on, you noticed that she would always stifle her sneezes, even in public or around friends. It seemed like a small thing, but it bothered you for some reason. All that pressure couldn’t be good for her. But no matter how much you mentioned it to her, she couldn’t seem to break the habit. 
That was until she got sick. You had both been on a mission in a particularly cold and damp environment and despite your best efforts, Natasha had come down with a nasty cold. 
That evening, you were sitting on the couch together watching a movie when you heard a stifled sneeze from her. You turned to her with a worried look, "Natty, you should really let it out. It's not good for you to hold it in like that." 
Natasha looked up at you with tired eyes and shook her head, "I'm fine, it's just a habit and I wouldn’t want to be gross, I’m already a walking germ factory.” She said, motioning to herself with her hand. 
You couldn't help but feel frustrated at her response. "Natasha, you're sick. I wouldn’t care if even you accidently sneezed all over me, I just want you to take care of yourself." 
She sighed and looked away, "I'm sorry, I just don't like people seeing me vulnerable, I guess. Plus, I think I’m just used to be being in the background and not drawing attention to myself." 
You could understand that feeling, but you knew that she needed to take care of herself properly if she wanted to get better. You took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I know it's hard, but I'm here for you. You don't have to hide anything from me." 
It was later that night when your advice had seemingly broken through. You were knelt by the edge of the bath, carefully washing her hair as the redhead soaked herself in the warm, comforting water of the bath when she suddenly pulled away, turning her head away as she finally let out 3 unstifled sneezes. 
"H-hiisshhoo! Hh’iiishiew! Hh-Hh’iiishoo!” 
You smiled at her, proud of her for finally allowing herself to let go. "Bless you sweetie. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" You said, kissing the top of her head. 
Natasha chuckled weakly, "No, I guess it wasn't." 
From then on, she didn't try to stifle her sneezes anymore. She would let them out without any hesitation, and you could tell it was a relief for her. It was a small victory, but it was a start towards breaking down the walls she had put up around herself. 
As Natasha's cold began to clear up, you noticed something else that was different about her. She seemed more open and vulnerable, willing to show you more of her true self. You didn't know if it was the sickness or if your talk had made a difference, but you were grateful nonetheless. 
You wrapped your arms around her as she sat on the edge of the bed, wiping the last of the cold sweat from her forehead. "You know, I kinda like seeing you vulnerable," you said, smiling down at her. 
Natasha smiled back, her eyes crinkling at the corners, "Yeah? Why's that?" 
"Because it means you trust me enough to let your guard down," you replied, leaning down to kiss her softly. 
Natasha leaned into the kiss, her hand coming up to cup your cheek, "I do trust you," she said softly. "More than anyone else." 
You pulled back to look at her, a warm feeling spreading in your chest. "I trust you too, Natty," you said, before leaning in to kiss her again. 
"Thank you," she said, giving you a grateful smile when you pulled back from her lips. 
"You don't have to thank me," you replied, "I'll always be here for you." 
Natasha leaned in and kissed you gently, "I know," she whispered, "And I'll always be grateful for that." 
And as for her bad habit of stifling her sneezes, well, that was a thing of the past. She had finally learned to let it all out, even if it meant being a little gross or vulnerable. And you loved her all the more for it. 
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deargodhelpmeaaa · 6 months
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I'm writing about Berdly today
I fucking love Berdly
He is such an adorable little ray of sunshine
Spoilers ahead.
I played the snowgrave route first so I immediately was just feeling infinite levels of remorse for him, and then I just learned more about his character and JESUS CHRIST WHY IS HE SO RELATABLE HELP-
I think I'm a lot like him. I think we both kind of consider ourselves smart (I think what I want to be like varies per the situation but intelligence is definitely one of those things) but we also recognize that we really aren't and feel the need to try and keep up the facade of this intelligence. We see our intelligence as making us valuable, but in reality, and this is what I find so beautiful about how he was written, we don't need it to make us special. Also we both are kind of idiots ^^' Berdly is special because he is a kind, brave boy who cares about his friends. He might have a big ego but he is not a bad person.
I also found his loneliness relatable. His persona definitely scares a lot of people off. People REALLY don't like him (both in and out of universe). He's terribly antisocial and comically unable to read the room which are things that contribute to his "annoying" personality. Sometimes I feel like I'm worse than everyone else, too. I think I'm doing even worse in this regard because I don't really pride myself on much of anything at all... haha. Kill me.
But god Berdly's just so sweet and innocent and toby fox why the fuck didn't you add a scene where I can give him a hug asuidgjakalmgdujskndgm
I gave him the present because I knew he deserved it :) The way he reacted to that gesture really brightened my day. He was so happy. It really indicated how he doesn't get treated that well that often and that made me feel kind of sad.
ALSO ALSO the fact that he thinks Noelle has a crush on him bc she's nice to him makes me sad. Like he really thinks you need an ulterior motive for you to like him. Why :( my guess is he might not have had the best upbringing and maybe his parents weren't affectionate towards him and were downright mean to him which could explain a lot about why he is the way he is. I know Noelle was probably abused by her mom as well, but Berdly's complete inability to read the room may contribute to him not really knowing what's up, but still recognizing that Noelle needs someone to look out for her and wants to be that person for her.
His crush on Susie is hilarious in my opinion. She's the person who shows him he doesn't have to be perfect (at least his idea of perfect, which is smart) which commences his "idiot" arc which I find adorable and hilarious. Berdly makes me laugh. He's just so precious aaaaaaaaaa
Anyway I am so fucking upset that he's probably not going to be in the rest of the chapters but at the same time I think that it contributes to why Snowgrave hits so hard. You have this fully fleshed out, beautiful, cute, funny character not getting this development anymore because HE FUCKING DIED AAAAAAAAA!!! I actually don't mind when characters I like die, though, because it just intrigues me more than anything. Also I just like watching my favorite characters suffer soooo.... haha.
End berdly abuse today and y'all please for the love of god stop stereotyping him as a gross incel gamer bitch bc he's not. He's a nice boy :(
thanks for coming to my ted talk
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estrellami-1 · 8 months
Text
(I Will) Help You
Ngl I’m insanely proud of myself that this is 1) exactly 560 words and 2) I wrote this in ONE morning. I think less than an hour. With that being said, this literally was just a little fun thing for me, so it’s not perfect and I’m not upset about it.
Eddie first notices during a movie night.
The kids had been there, but it had gotten late and they’d all been picked up. Now it was just the older members, and everyone except Steve and Eddie were asleep or fighting it.
Eddie, for his part, likes the movie they are watching, even if he can’t remember the name of it. It was one Steve had suggested, so it makes sense he’d still be awake, too.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Steve’s hand move up to his mouth. He chances a glance over and realizes Steve’s biting at his nail.
He looks back to the movie, because he does find it very interesting, but he finds it hard to focus for the rest of the night.
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The next time it happens is another movie night, this one with just Steve and Eddie. It’s one they’ve both seen, so Eddie feels more comfortable breaking the silence this time. “Why do you do that?”
Steve pulls his hand away from his mouth and hums in question as he drags his eyes from the screen in front of them. “What?”
Eddie nods to Steve’s hand. “Why do you do that?”
Steve follows Eddie’s gaze, flushes, and pushes his hand under his leg. “Sorry.”
Eddie tilts his head, leaning the side of it against the back of the couch. “I don’t want an apology. I don’t care if you do it. I just wanted to know why.” He thinks about it. “You don’t do it in front of the kids. I bet you try not to do it in front of us, even.” He shrugs. “Tell me to fuck off if it’s a sensitive subject or whatever. I really am just curious.”
Steve sighs. “No, it’s… I know I shouldn’t, I know it’s… it’s bad, and childish, and gross, and I should stop.”
Eddie hums. “Do you want to stop? Or were you told growing up that it’s all those things?”
“More the second one,” Steve admits. “But I know it’s true. I know it’s gross and looks bad-”
“Steve,” Eddie interrupts, leaning towards him, “I don’t give a shit what your parents said. As long as you’re not hurting yourself, I couldn’t care less what you do.”
Steve takes a breath, chews on his lip. “And… if I do hurt myself?” He asks. “It’s not on purpose,” he swears at Eddie’s expression. “Sometimes I just go too far.”
“Then I’d kiss it better,” Eddie returns with a salacious grin. Steve rolls his eyes and pushes Eddie away by a hand on his face.
He goes easily, relaxing back against the couch and watching Steve. “Maybe it’s not on purpose,” he says. “But does part of you like it?”
Steve furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”
“Do you want me to help you stop? Or is it okay when you go too far?”
Steve looks at his hands. Presses at a nail, one he’d gone too far on. “I don’t like it,” he admits. “I just don’t know how to stop.”
“Do you want help?”
Steve drops his hand, looks at Eddie. Nods. Strangely feels like tearing up. Whispers, “Yeah.”
“Okay,” Eddie whispers back.
With that, they go back to their movie. Eddie feels like something irreversible happened, and suppresses a grin. He also feels like it’s for the better.
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Note
hi! happy new year! first off, i love your interpretation of eddie so much, he always seems so much like himself in your fic to me, so i wanted to say how much i appreciate your attention to detail with his character, he has such a warmth that is hard to find translated in fic. secondly, my request: as a person with chronic illness and depression it can be very difficult to get myself to shower sometimes, so i was wondering if you could do something where eddie coaxes the reader into the shower, to help her feel more herself when it’s been a while? i don’t really want smut just like comfortable intimacy if that makes sense. hopefully this isn’t too specific, you can really make this into whatever will be fun for you, i haven’t read a fic of yours i didn’t love!
first of all, THANK YOU 🥰🥰🥰🥰 that’s so sweet of you to say! every time i write i fic i always try to put a lot of detail into his character when i write since i know he didn’t have as much screen time as the other main characters but with what we were given i really wanted to try and go deeper into that :) and i deal with something very similar to this! honestly i feel like Eddie would totally understand why it gets difficult to keep up with hygiene and things like that, and i know exactly how he would help when you get into moods like that 🥰
Care Package
Genre- Fluff
Warnings- Mentions of depressed reader
Tag List- @imagine-all-the-imagines @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian
Words- 1.2k
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Eddie knocked on the door to your bedroom, a little bag of goodies for you in his hand.
He had been talking to you regularly, that would never change, but it’s been a few days since he’d actually seen you and he knew exactly why.
He knew that sometimes there would be periods of time that would be harder for you than others, times where it was difficult for you to leave your room or keep up with things like showering, teeth brushing, even brushing your hair, and he never wanted you to feel bad about things like that.
It was just something he knew would happen every once in a while and he never wanted you to think that he thought things like that made you any less of the love of his life. He wanted to be there to help you, and that’s exactly what he planned on doing that day.
You opened your bedroom door and when you saw him, your tired eyes lit up and your lips curled into a smile, your arms wrapping around his torso into a tight hug,
“Eddie what are you doing here? I’m gross right now, i don’t want you to see me like this.”
“You shush, you’re not gross, if you were gross i wouldn’t want to kiss you like i do right now.” He leaned down and placed little kisses all over your face, making you giggle before he pressed his lips to yours.
You led him into your room and he shut the door behind him, setting his bag down on your bed next to you,
“What’s all that?” You asked him, taking a peek into the bag, but he quickly snatched it up to keep you from looking inside.
“It’s a surprise, so no peeking!” He set the bag next to his feet on the floor and sat next to you, grabbing your hairbrush from your nightstand as he moved to sit behind you, “Your hair has a few knots in it sweetheart, let me get these while you tell me about your day.”
He slowly and carefully ran the hairbrush through your hair, making sure to be gentle each time he came to a new knot or tangle as you told him about everything that had been going on in the last few days since he’d seen you.
How you were able to see your friends a few days ago and have some time to catch up with them, all the new movies you heard that were coming out next month that you were wanting to see, and you were wanting to be honest with him about everything so you told him that you were feeling a bit burnt out with everything that was going on and it was getting a bit difficult for you to remember to do some things in your daily routine. He sat behind you, brushed your hair, and listened to every little thing you had to say.
As obnoxious as he was in school, he was a damn good boyfriend.
He finished brushing through your hair and set the brush back down onto your nightstand, reaching over and grabbing the plastic bag and setting it next to him,
“Alright sweetheart, ready for your surprises?”
You nodded excitedly and turned to face him,
“What did you get?”
He reached into the bag,
“So i know you told me you were getting a little down lately, and it was getting harder to do the stuff in your routine, so i got you some new stuff that might make it more fun!” He pulled out a pack of mint gum and a red tube of toothpaste with a pack of two toothbrushes, “I saw this strawberry flavored toothpaste at the store and figured that might taste better than the normal minty stuff, and when you don’t have time to brush your teeth in the morning i got you some gum to keep in your purse! And i got you a new toothbrush too, and you can keep one here and i can put the other one in my bathroom at home so you’ve always got one there,” He set them down on your bed in front of you with a smile as you watched him reach back into the bag, “I also found a new scrubby for you in the shower, and i got you a new set of body stuff for the shower!” He handed them to you and you giggled as you took them.
It was a full set of body care, a wash, a scrub, a lotion for afterwards, and it was all in your favorite scent.
“And i looked all over for the body spray to match it, but they were all out, so i drove a little out of town and got you a full sized one instead of one of the little travel ones.”
He reached into the bag once more and pulled out the body spray to match the rest of the body care he had gotten you and searched around in the bag for a few more things,
“And i know that sometimes it’s hard for you to want to take a full shower so i got you a few packs of baby wipes. And i got you some snacks too!” You giggled at his excitement as he dumped the rest of the bag out onto your bed, picking up each thing to show you,
“I got you some gatorades in the color you like to make sure you stay hydrated, some of those cereal bars to eat when you forget breakfast in the morning, and i got you some of your favorite snacks! I know it’s not always great to eat nothing but snacks, but i would prefer you to eat junk than to not eat at all.”
Eddie’s generosity was enough to bring tears to your eyes. He had brought you little things every now and then but never a big care package like this, and you could tell that he was worried for you. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him in close to you for a hug,
“Thank you Eddie…”
He softly wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead,
“Of course sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me! I love you, and i just want to make sure that you’re always ok.”
He held you in his arms for a moment, slowly rubbing his hands over your back,
“And i was thinking maybe you and me can have a night to ourselves tonight? If you want i can help you test out that new scrubby and body wash in the shower?” You giggled and blushed a bit as he held you close, leaning up to kiss over his jawline,
“Maybe. To be honest baby, i’m not really in the mood to get frisky, but if you wanted maybe we can shower and then snuggle after? I’m still not feeling the best…”
Eddie smiled and stood up from your bed, picking you up into his arms,
“Of course sweetheart,” He reached down and picked up the new body care he had gotten you, along with the scrubby, and handed them to you, “and afterwards we can watch whatever movie you want, and i’ll order us some takeout.”
You smiled up at him and pressed your lips to his cheek sweetly as he brought you into the bathroom,
“You’re the best boyfriend ever.”
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morningberriesao3 · 5 months
Text
20 Questions for Fic Writers
tysm to @runninriot for the tag. tbh i often don’t do these things ‘cause I never have anyone else to tag to keep the chain going, but this one is too fun not to 💕
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
currently—13. 10 are completed, 2 are old wips, 1 is my current wip. baker’s dozen.
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
431, 629 and counting 😳
3. What fandoms do you write for?
stranger things, exclusively. no other fandom inspires me the same way.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Many Ways, Many Days, to Say ‘I Love You’
Dirty Words
Done Deal
Sneaky Link
Sweet Surrender
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
YES. omg i will always respond to a comment because they make me wildly happy. although sometimes (currently), i feel too overwhelmed to reply right away and i end up with an overflowing inbox. right now i have 200 unanswered comments that i WILL reply to 😂
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
as far as finished fics, Hate the Way It Feels So Good has, i guess, the most unsatisfying ending. generally i always write HEA. although i have a wip that was never supposed to end happily: Wicked, to Let Me Dream of You.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
i’d say Sweet Surrender is the happiest considering all the angst you have to read to get there 😂 but like i said, most have a happy ending
8. Do you get hate on fics?
generally, no. but i have gotten more hate than anyone i’ve talked to about it! (certain word choices ‘ruining’ an entire fic for someone, grammar corrections, people telling me i’m a liar when i didn’t upload fast enough… all mostly surface stuff that hasn’t been too bad yet 😩)
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
the real question is: have i ever not written smut? and the answer to that is no. what kind? every kind. tame, not-so-tame, porn with plot, porn with feelings, gross stuff, cute stuff, you name it 😉
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
not really. the closest i’ve been to writing a crossover is How I’d Kill, in which the first few chaps are pretty inspired by ACOTAR.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
not copy and pasted, as far as i know. there have been a few instances where i’ve noticed bigger accounts posting eerily similar plot lines to some of the stuff i’ve written, but i’m 100% sure it’s just coincidence. we have to remember nothing is outright original when it comes to plot. as long as you’re not intentionally plagiarizing someone’s work, similarities are bound to happen.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
no!! i’ve never had a translation, a pod fic, or artwork done for any of my fics! i’m just out here in my own little bubble lmao
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
i haven’t! although i’ve definitely talked about it with @the-unforgivenn!! i get nervous because i’m such a procrastinator when it comes to getting my own fics done—i don’t want to drag someone else down 😂
14. What’s you’re all time favourite ship?
take a wild guess.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
i honestly hope/plan to finish ALL of my posted wips, even though a couple are on pause. there’s a few saved on my laptop that I’m sure will never see the light of day hahaha
16. What are your writing strengths?
i’m blind to my own writing so it’s hard to say. i’d like to think just general improvement as i’ve written more/read more. a lot of repeat readers have complimented me on how i write angst so maybe that?!
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
i could write an essay on this. first—no matter how many times i read through my fics—there’s some autocorrect that i missed or a spelling error or just SOMETHING 😂 not to mention the procrastinating. always getting major writer’s block. and generally being very hard on myself.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
i MIGHT be able to get away with a few french phrases here and there, being half french, but in general i only know english well enough to write. reading? LOVE it. make all the characters multilingual—i’ll have google translate ready.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
stranger things 🥹 and most likely will be the only fandom i ever write for. (unless you count the RPF i wrote and will NEVER publish about joseph quinn 💀)
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
i personally think my best written fic is How I’d Kill, but Sweet Surrender will always be my favourite just by default—there was no better feeling as a first time writer reading the lovely comments that i got on that fic. i’ll never forget it 🥹
no pressure tags:
@numinosmoon @cuips-not-cute @bettyfrommars @the-unforgivenn @rip-quizilla @etherealmontilyet @wroteclassicaly @wynnyfryd
sorry if you’ve already been tagged or just plain old don’t want to do it 💕
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sumeruin · 1 year
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omg imagine rosaria but yandere! she already gives off the vibes yk?
like imagine yan!rosaria who ur friends with, and slowly but surely she starts isolating you from others because “they’re bad people”! eventually she convinces you that she’s the only person u can trust! :(
i feel like as a yandere, rosaria wouldn’t kidnap darling at first, she’d probably watch from afar, and then trick you into believing she’s genuine.
-
some more nasty thoughts here teehee
yan!rosaria who sneaks into ur house while ur showering and takes your underwear! she’s gonna return them, don’t worry! they’ll have a little… surprise in them!
-🫧
minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!!
squeals my first woman ask. and it’s rosaria!!!! love her so so so much. sigh. mean women who would degrade you >>>
tw: yandere, manipulation, stalking, slight dacryphilia, i think that’s it
mhm mhm!!! i agree wholeheartedly nonnie, she’d be a more manipulative yandere :( and of course you’d trust everything she says!! she’s rosaria, you’ve been friends for years, she’d never do anything if it wasn’t in your best interest :( she’d follow you around whenever you left, making sure to leave small little hints that someone is watching you cause she knows you’ll come to her about it and she’ll get to hold you against her chest while you cry such pretty tears for her :( she’d offer to go with you whenever you left, maybe having her intimidating presence following you around too will be enough to deter your stalker :( it would work, and she’d eventually convince you to move in with her so that your “mysterious stalker” wouldn’t bother you anymore and it’d be easier for her to protect you, but she’d leave out the part about your stalker not having to follow you anymore :( she’d gradually build up to letting you see her full yandere side, and you’d be none the wiser, thinking of her as your protector and savior instead of the creepy pervert she really is :(
tw: yandere, noncon themes, panty stealing, cum/spit feeding, mentions of skipping meals, this one is really gross i can’t even defend myself this time lmao
but nonnie, what about yan rosaria who takes your underwear just so she can cum while wearing them?? :( she just can’t get enough of the idea of you walking around in clothes covered in her cum, she makes sure to take a new pair every day!! this isn’t related to what you said, but i’m also thinking very hard about a yandere rosaria who notices you skipping meals sometimes and promises you that she’ll make you lunch every day, but she always makes sure to put a little piece of her in your food too!! whether it’s some of her spit or she saves some of her cum for it, she always makes sure you have something to remember her by in your stomach :( you’d be confused about why she always watches so intensely when you eat food she made, but you’d end up just brushing it off as her being nervous about the taste :( sigh. a hot woman feeding me her spit would solve all my problems </3
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draininkiss · 6 months
Text
What's a Blue Daisy Mean? (Sonic x Amy)
I saw this post by Junichi Kanemaru (voice of Sonic) where Taeko Kawata (voice of Amy) gifted him a blue daisy with a cute note in-character. Even though the roles are reversed, I just wrote it naturally as it came to my mind. It's not proofread, so there may be some mistakes in punctuation. I'm sorry in advance.
“Augh! Sonic, I just don’t get you sometimes!” “What’s there to get?” Amy couldn’t help but let out an exasperated sigh as she slapped him on his shoulder. “You not only called me out here in the middle of nowhere, but you rush by doing your boost thing once, twice, three times, hand me a flower – a blue daisy for that matter – and then you claim we aren’t on a date?” 
She looked away from him as they walked, trying to control her breathing so she wouldn’t crumple the flower’s stem in her hands from her frustration.
“What am I supposed to think about that? That we’re still just friends?” Sonic sniffed and rubbed his nose to soothe the itch, his blue quills jostling with the slight breeze. “Is there something wrong with being my friend?” He looked over at her, eyes half-lidded and a coquettish smile on his face, “I think you ought to be grateful I’m not running away from you like I used to.” “So you admit you did it on purpose?” “Yeah.” “Just to mess with me?” “Yep!” “And you somehow don’t think that’s a problem?” “Not in particular, no.” Crunch. The grass gave way to Sonic’s weight as he suddenly sat down, causing Amy to nearly jump out of her own skin from the unexpected shock. “Sonic!” She turned to look at him, “What is it now?” With a loud, toothy yawn, Sonic began to snore loudly in faux-sleep. His tan chest heaved up and down in an exaggerated manner, body so unnaturally stiff you’d think he was a corpse being reanimated by the forces of nature. “Sonic,” Amy said in a stern voice, her shadow blanketing over him as the sunlight hit her bare back, “I’m not in the mood to play around.” “Who said I was playing?” Sonic countered, “I’m trying to sleep – it’s exhausting having to deal with people all day, you know?” “You barely talk to anyone outside of PR speak!” “I talk to Tails!” “He’s your little brother! Of course you’re gonna talk to him! You live in the same house!” Opening one eye, he gave a toothy grin before sighing and rolling over onto his stomach dramatically, “Ah, and what an unfortunate circumstance that is!” Crunch crunch. So she was going to walk away and pout this time, huh? “You know, I’m surprised you’re not offering your house to me,” Sonic chided, holding himself up with his elbows, “The old Amy would have jumped at the opportunity to share a room with me.” “Not true,” She placed the daisy behind her ear, already tired of holding it, “Even back then, I would have had you sleep on the couch. I was infatuated with you, but not your wet fur smell.” “It’s gritty! It’s natural! If anything, you’re weird for smelling like strawberries all the time!”
“You really don’t like strawberries, do you?”
“I ate one that was a slug motel when I was a kid,” An involuntary shiver caused him to jostle and assume a sitting position, “Been grossed out by them ever since.”
She turned suddenly on her heel, nearly slipping as the wet dirt shifted with her, “And you didn’t think to tell me?!?”
“You obviously like them, so no, I wasn’t gonna.”
“But that’s just terrible! I was here enjoying myself, thinking I smell great, and now you’re telling me I reminded you of when you ate slugs by accident as a kid! Why wouldn’t you just tell me to my face that I was gross!”
“Because you aren’t gross,” He corrected, “Strawberries are gross.”
She walked over to him and crouched down on the balls of her toes, wincing as she tried her hardest not to get her dress covered in dirt. Before she could think too hard about it, though, Sonic had sat her down by the trunk of a tree, disorienting her as she felt her back hit the tree with a sudden thud.
“You know, if I had known you were so clumsy, I wouldn’t have had your face printed on my bedroom rug.”
“Oh really?”
“...Okay, maybe I would have. What’s this about me not being gross then?”
“Every hero needs an admiring fan… I’ve got a natural charisma, so you chasing me around was never off-putting. The sudden back-breaking hugs were, yeah, but I never minded seeing you.”
“I’d mind seeing me! I was so insecure that you had forgotten me, after I got a makeover and everything…” She pursed her lips, flattening down her quills which had been unruly from the humid summer air.
“Forget you? Pssh, nah!” Subtly, he put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer so she was leaning on his chest, “I was a bit confused since I didn’t recognize you with the new look, but no one could ever forget a voice like yours going ‘SONIC!’”
“Sonic!”
He started laughing as she pulled away from him, the loud, raucous sounds dying down into snide chuckles as her peachy-pale muzzle glowed pink like the rest of her.
“You’re the worst person ever! You don’t deserve to be called a hero! Jerk! Creep!”
She began to punch him lightly on his head, his ears folding down as he quickly started to laugh again. A light huff signified the pink hedgehog was done with her onslaught of blows, and so she assumed her position next to him as she had, her arms crossed as she readjusted the blue daisy that was inches from Sonic’s nose.
“Do you know what a blue daisy means, by the way?”
“I know blue flowers usually mean something impossible. I’m just grateful you didn’t pick a rose.”
“So you read up on flower language too? Great! Then I guess I don’t have to explain what it means.”
With that, he took the flower from her hair and began to fan out its petals with his fingers, gloved cotton scratching against the delicate daisy as Amy looked over with an apprehensive glance.
“... This isn’t your way of rejecting me, is it? I’d rather you just tell me directly if I’m causing an issue.”
“Nope,” Sonic kept his gaze forward, his fingers still fanning out the petals, “I’m guessing you haven’t read about blue daisies in any of the books you bought from the department store.”
“Sonic, I…” She sighs, “No, they don’t have a chapter on blue flowers in any commonly sold book.”
“Figured. Well, if you need to know what this means, it means good health and a long life! If you ever stopped following me, I’d think the worst had happened to you, Amy.”
Shock. She didn’t really know how to reply to that, so she didn’t.
“I’ve never known you to be insecure about your feelings. I can’t really say everything that’s really on my mind – I’m very critical of my thoughts and my surroundings – so I’m surprised you’d think I’m bothered by you being around me.”
She bit her lip and looked away from him, placing her hands in her lap as she let him keep talking.
“Amy, I’m a pretty spontaneous person. Tails has always been living alone just like me, so I’m not too worried if Eggman shows up at his house, since it’s my house. But you? You’re just a regular girl. You live in an apartment and you buy groceries, for crying out loud! Tails buys groceries, yeah, but he does it in a mech-turned-race-car. Even Rouge doesn’t entirely adjust to human life like you do.”
“So you’re just saying you pity me because I’m just a city girl? Is that it, Sonic?”
“Hey, don’t get snappy! I’m not finished!” He chided her, one hand held up to act as a barrier from her grit teeth.
“I’m saying you’re really strong despite being a city girl, Amy. I don’t wanna disrupt your life any more than I already have. Little Planet, I just thought you were an annoying groupie - I’ve dealt with my fair share of those… but maybe I was wrong about it.”
She looked up at him as he began to rise from the tree trunk’s roots, carefully placing the daisy behind her ear as she felt her cheeks heat up all over again.
“Look, I’m not the type of guy to be in a relationship now,” She could only see his back as he began to walk away from her, “But that doesn’t mean I’m entirely opposed to the idea.”
Before she could get up or even say anything, he was gone. It was like she had just walked herself to this field alone, the only real indication he had been there being the blue daisy behind her ear.
She groaned in frustration as she balled her fists and began to stomp her feet in the dirt.
“Sonic, I really, really don’t understand you!”
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palepinkgoat · 19 days
Text
(warning, kind of gross and about mental health. Such is my life.)
I've had intrusive thoughts my whole life. Like, for as long as I can remember. A young child. Not just random thoughts that pop into my head, or even ones that are negative self-talk for example.
No, I'm talking about the ones where I can't stop thinking about seeing my fingers broken, or seeing them with the tendons hanging out or skin stripped off, or just anything gross you can think of, really. I'll be lying in bed and the thoughts will come, and I'll squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to will the images away. But they persist. I imagine the worst things, the worst damage. I pull my hands out from under the blanket and stare at them. They're safe. I'm safe.
But then there it is again, not even a half hour later. And that's when I crawl out of bed and take an Ativan, and try to relax. But it's all so exhausting to think about. It runs me ragged. The worst times are when it seems just normal. I'll be doing something and an image will pop into my head, and I shake my head and keep doing the dishes.
Hey look, your skin is falling off.
No its not.
What if it DID though? What if it breaks and bones stick out? Like tiny little bones that -
Stop it. Leave me alone.
These are different than hallucinations. I have had those too. This is about my thoughts. I don't SEE my hands like this. I see them as normal fingers. But the THOUGHT of them being injured is so real. So real I can ALMOST see it.
This is about persistent wild jabs into the soft creature of my brain. One day the thoughts will leave me, and won't come back in this form probably. It will choose something else. So I just get to wait and see, I guess.
Being a mentally ill person is hard. Sometimes it's so boring, and sometimes when I feel things in episodes it's just so normal to me that it's hard to imagine other people don't live like this. Then sometimes it's me trying to heal myself from the inside out, staring at my hands, chanting "you're safe, you're safe, you're safe."
I told my doctor about them. Pychiatrists are cool because when you say something that other people would be like "Gross, that's crazy" they are just kind of like "oh, okay." At least that's how mine is. To be understood that way is deeply comforting.
I think this whole thing was triggered by a relative's upcoming hand surgery. It's like my brain heard that, woke up and pounced on it, a bright shiny thing it turned over and over, fascinated, unable to look away. Take that and run it through the wires and this all comes out instead. Lost in translation.
This won't last. I know that. My brain will set the shiny thing down and walk away toward the next shiny thing. But being mentally ill? The bipolar? That's forever. There is no cure. Meds aren't a cure, they are a tool. Underneath all of it is my sick and vulnerable and brilliant brain, looking for something to destroy for a little while. It never gets tired of that mission.
But I'm tired.
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onlyseokmins · 2 years
Text
[05:36] • y.j.h.
Pairing: yoon jeonghan x afab!reader
Genres: suggestive/kind of smut so as always minors dni, best friend's sister, kinda loser bc I always make it that way
WC: 1.1k
Warnings: banter, teasing, mentions of toys (specifically handcuffs), mention of oral (male receiving), mention of choking, alcohol, swearing, idk man lmk as always
A/N: hiiii back w/ this bc I thought of the second line and said aha let's write hannie and didn't look back at my 5893303 drafts! This is lame but enjoy!
“What are they for?”
“Sometimes seeing and knowing too much can be very, very bad. Hasn’t anyone ever told you curiosity killed the cat?”
“You’re not going to kill me, Yoon Jeonghan,” you chirp as you bob back and forth on your feet with a cheeky grin. “Not unless you’re using those whips, collars, and leashes for something very, very bad. Like murder. Or the gross kinds of torture.”
He’s standing in front of you, arms crossed and jaw clenched firmly. Like he’s standing guard to hide his little toys away from your prying eyes. As if you hadn’t already seen what’s in that dresser drawer.    
Nobody would believe you, but it really, truly was purely coincidental. And a hundred percent to your advantage.
The man’s expression is unreadable as always, but you know he’s at least pissed off slightly by the questions he growls out.  
“And what if I am? What’re you going to do about it?”
“Nothing! ‘Cause, it’s not like you’re murdering people.”
“What makes you think that?”
“It’s my instincts. Even if you haven’t answered any of my qu — “
“Acting all cute with that criminal justice degree of yours, huh?” He takes one step closer as he speaks. “But you aren’t good enough to ever get me to tell you anything so let’s just drop it.”
Intent on angering you enough to let the matter be, Jeonghan makes to walk past you, but you sidestep faster and grin at him.
“You think I’m cute.”
“… What?”
“So, how good of a girl do I have to be to please you?”
He balks at his slip of tongue and your question. You’re trouble. Everyone knows it.   
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re trying to play but it’s not funny. Or fun.”
“If you’re somehow afraid of Seungcheol, don’t be. He doesn’t have to know.”
The mere mention of his friend’s name made Jeonghan scowl, a chill crawling up his spine. Because he knew and was informed multiple times in great, explicit details exactly what would happen to any man that made a pass at you.
“I’d prefer to keep myself intact, thank you very much.”
“Hm, I’d very much prefer you that way too.”   
He thinks he’s going to pass out when your eyes shamelessly drift down to his crotch and you even go as far as licking your lips. You have no intention of making this easy. In fact, you’d like to make things very hard. In more ways than one.
But you’re also very well aware that your brother can be the biggest dick around. So, you meet Jeonghan’s stony gaze again with a smile, this time without a mischievous sparkle in your eyes.
“But if it makes you feel any better, let’s just call and make him promise to not lop off your balls or whatever heinous acts he likes to threaten with.”
When you actually pull out your phone his eyes widen, hand reaching out in panic as he curses.
“Stop, Seungcheol’s gonna kill me!”
You tsk and roll your eyes. “No, he’s not. I’m pretty sure he likes you even more than I.”
“Impossible,” he scoffs out, “you’re the prized treasure of the Choi family.”
“I think you boys forget that I’m older than all of you. Cheol’s protective, sure, but all he does is keep you away from me. I’m starting to think the two of you are using those chains and whips on each other.”
Jeonghan sighs and mutters the only thing that comes to mind. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
It was a true statement. All the way from the beginning when you first approached him with a flirtatious wink, drink in hand, and asked for his kind assistance in fixing your bra strap. Only later that evening for Seungcheol to introduce you as his precious older sister and very clearly completely, absolutely, unarguably off limits.
But you liked to test limits and break rules, he discovered. Pulling him onto the dance floor, hidden away from your brother by other gyrating bodies. Jeonghan found out he was drunk on your alluring scent. Something that lingered consistently on his mind. Especially when he was alone in bed. The man didn’t dare to picture your body on his — fingers running up and down your curves, hand wrapping your neck… okay maybe he did.  
But there’s no way he thinks about your giggles, the way you curl into your brother’s body during a scary movie, the scrunch of your eyebrows while examining a case study, or the way you chew on your gum way too loud in fear of what that might mean. Absolutely not.
You continued to tease him, though. A cheeky kiss blown his way when you stopped by the dorms, asking his opinion on a hypothetical verdict, an occasional nude sent to his phone after he somehow managed to secure your number, all the way to now. Standing close enough that he’s drowning in your fragrance once more, hand on your hand, easily able to pull you onto his bed only a couple steps away.
Unbeknownst to him, you can see the softness and longing he tries to hide behind a tough, cool act. Seungcheol has always felt on edge when his sister and best friend lock eyes because even that blockhead can see the magnetic pull you have to each other.  
And right now, no one is here to block it. Your goal all along. Gingerly, you bop his forehead with your free hand.  
“I don’t think you were listening earlier, but I like you, Yoon Jeonghan. Even more than my stupid brother does.” He doesn’t say anything, simply staring wordlessly with stars in his eyes and you can feel his hand slightly tighten its grasp around yours. You pout. “Say it back, loser.”
“… Why’re you calling me a loser?”
“You did mention cats earlier so, do you prefer kitten?”
“You’re such a brat.”
“Takes one to know one. Y’know I’m probably your best resource in getting handcuffs.”
Jeonghan’s tongue pokes his cheek. “No need.”
You make a disgruntled sound when he boldly tugs you forward, a whisper of “I like you too” almost missed by the ruffle of his bedsheets that the both of you fall upon. What you don’t know about is the unopened, brand-new box underneath his bed. Something he’d saved especially for you when he dared to dream that you might give him the tiniest bit of attention.  
Of course, he never imagined that he’d be the one handcuffed to his own bed frame but how can he complain when you’re giving him the greatest suck of his life. The only gripe is that he can’t touch you (especially without your permission) but even as he begrudgingly whines, you assure him there will always be next time.  
Oh, and Seungcheol? All your dear brother does is sigh and grumble that he knew it and stalk past, telling Jeonghan he owes him drinks for the next six months. 
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