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peachesofteal · 2 months

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Simple Math / Part Nine

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Graphic descriptions of domestic violence. Medical chart from a SANE EXAM. Simon's family history, trauma. Brief sexual content. Hospital setting, nurse!reader, medical inaccuracies. Heavy emotions. Scars. Reader in pain. Hurt/comfort. Kate is a dog with a bone. Penny is cute. POV switches. Simon and Johnny make a discovery, and a promise.

You can’t breathe.

The air is too thin, too tight, and you stand, silent, in the foyer of the home that you’ve been invited to.

A clock ticks on the wall. You count each second, waiting.

You should leave. You should run.

Simon’s footsteps echo above your head, already up the stairs with your first bag and work backpack.

He said to make yourself at home, but you can’t move.

The foyer is the foyer of a family. There is a hall tree with little shoes scattered beneath it, a tiny, pink backpack hanging on the hook. Too many wellies to count, all in pastel colors, matching a small yellow and green rain jacket that’s folded on the stairs. There’s a black hoodie, a black jacket, and a green on the coat rack, hung haphazardly with a toss. Men’s sizes, and you notice two pairs of trainers next to one pair of black boots, and two crayons hide, peeking out from under the bench, one blue, one purple, so worn down they’re almost half gone.

A home. A family.

“Hey, so up-“ You flinch. The jolt has you stumbling, one misstep over another, and he tenses, prepared to steady you, careful hand outstretched, but not encroaching.

“Sorry.” You shouldn’t be here.

“No, I’m sorry. I know better.” You blink, and the silence is heavy, weighted down like bricks at the bottom of a river.

He’s still wearing the mask.

“Can I… give you a tour?”

“S-sure.”

You lose your breath again in the kitchen.

Simon turns away to the sink, loading dishes into the dishwasher as you stare at the fridge and its collage with a tight chest. It’s covered; photos, invitations, magnets, notes, finger painted masterpieces. You step closer, studying, noticing the way they all fit together, mix matched perfectly, and even in the pictures, the three of them glow effortlessly, too sweet and smiling, happy. Together. A family. A perfect unit.

Your nose tingles, and you blink back the tears that fight forward, wiping away the two that escape and trickle down your cheek. You don’t know why it overwhelms you, why it fills you with grief.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To have a family, like this?

Get it together. You’re a guest in their house.

It’s too much, and you chastise yourself for getting so emotional over nothing, over something stupid.

You need to be alone.

Dry sandpaper scrubs the back of your throat when you swallow. “Simon?” He turns, concerned, glancing at the fridge and then back to you, drying his hands on a towel.

“What is it?”

“Can I… I’m sorry. I’m… tired.” You try to explain your needs but it’s awkward on your mouth, uncomfortable. His expression creases with sympathy.

“Of course, c’mon. I’ll show you.”

“Alright, one more step.”

“’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, bun. You’re alright.” In the back of your mind, you’re registering Simon’s warmth, the wilted lean that has you tipped into him, slow steps on the stairs, one by one as you fight to stay upright. He’s warm, and pillowy… the kind of comfort you could sink into, disappear inside for a while. It sounds so… nice.

But your shoulder is throbbing. The pain combined with the emotions swirling about in your heart has you on the verge of tears, top teeth dug into your lip, and your molars grind against one other with each step.

“It’s just at the end of the hall.”

You shouldn’t be doing this. Even now, after agreeing, getting in the car, getting yourself here… the desire to bolt runs hot under your skin, buzzing inside your skull, an insistent need.

You’re in their house. Where they live. With their baby.

What if he comes back? What if he hurts them?

“Hey.” Simon says your name slowly, ducking down to get your attention. Fuck.

“Sorry, I’m just… exhausted.”

“I’m sure. It’s right here.” He opens the door to a room, flicking on a light switch. The walls are a sage green, a gentle hue that matches the bedspread, framed photos organized into a gallery wall, pictures of smiles and laughter, a tiny Penny in Simon’s naked arms, a candid shot of Johnny in full military regalia, the three of them together somewhere, hiking, with Pen snuggled in a papoose on Johnny’s chest. The bed is the centerpiece, a massive king size piled with pillows, and it looks so inviting, so soft that you want to collapse into it right here and now.

“Wow.” It’s the best you can do, considering the screeching agony vibrating in your shoulder. You try to breathe through it, but the pain only shortens your draw.

“Yeah, it’s our old bed. Very comfortable.” He puts your other duffel down by the dresser, and you try not to dwell on the idea of it once being theirs, where they slept, where they’ve loved one another, held each other, their child, their- “It’s got its own bathroom, just through here.” He’s on the other side of the room, turning on a light that is far too bright, and you squint, jerking away with a gasp. Are you getting a migraine too? “Shit, sorry.” The room spins. You stumble towards the bed, limbs heavy, head full of cement, wooziness blurring your immediate sight. You’re disjointed, a mess of pain and disorientation, and you cover your eyes with a palm.

“Sorry, I think… I think I’m getting a headache. My shoulder-“ it slips out before you can stop yourself, and even with your eyes closed, you know Simon is staring at you, picking you apart with his eyes.

“Your shoulder?” You’re on a runaway train now. It has no brakes. No destination. It just barrels down the tracks, unable to stop for rational thought or pleas of mercy. It has no plan, and it does not heed you. You’re helpless. Hopeless. Lost. Reaching out for a light in the dark, a rope, a life vest, and a sob breaks through to the surface.

“It really hurts.”

“It hurts?” His voice cuts, tone worried. “Which one?” You use your good side to point, shakily.

“I’m sorry. I’m s-sorry.” You try to tell him, try to explain that you don’t mean to cry, or be emotional. You don’t mean to be making a fuss. You’re not supposed to be a problem.

A warm hand lays atop your thigh, thumb rubbing into your scrub pants.

“Sweetheart, you’re in pain. You don’t have to apologize for crying.” Your vision blurs, thick with tears, and fingers gently probe along your shoulder cuff. When you flinch, he swears. “Shhh, alright. Easy.” He’s gentling a spooked horse, carefully feeling along where you ache as you cry through it, unable to stop. “I’m going to go get some ice. We can… wrap it up, if you think that will help?”

“Ye-yeah, okay.” His steps fade, and you try to get your top off, sliding the arm that doesn’t hurt underneath your turtleneck, which is confined by the rigidity of your scrub top.

When you try the other one, the pain is so sharp, a cry bursts from your lips, and Simon sprints up the stairs. How did it get so much worse between the beginning of your shift and now?

“What happened?”

“I can’t… I can’t get my shirts off.” You uselessly tug at the hem, eyes half open, letting it fall from your fingers, stuck in a loop, frantic movements matching the increasing pace of your lungs.

“Can I help?” His face is lined in concentration, and you spot an icepack on the bed now, with a sling, and a wrap. They’re prepared. Must come home with a fair number of injuries. “Bun, are you with me?” You sniffle and nod. What choice do you have? What choice do you ever have? The pain is too much. It’s all too much, and it boils over until you need to get the shirts off, not caring that it will expose you, or show Simon the very details you’re always trying to hide. You’re too far lost now, too far gone.

If you’re here, in their home, shouldn't you let them see? Shouldn't you let them know?

The truth is terrifying, the reality of the trust you have in them. You know Simon won’t hurt you, instinctively. You feel safe here, in their home, their old bed, and when he looks at you, you show him, just for a second, the fractured mirror that is your reflection. You show him the pain and the rage and the fear, you give him everything. You shove the girl in the mirror forward, you force her into the sun and you hold her face to the light, trying not to sob as she screams at you in protest.

Just for a second.

“Okay.” He nods, and then cups your cheek. “You’re okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” You nod with tears that sting, and then you slowly pull away, slipping back into yourself, hiding the girl in the mirror away, making more promises to her that you’re not sure you’re going to keep.

“We’re going to put this one,” He slowly, carefully lifts the arm with the bad shoulder until it’s resting on his own, “right here. That alright?” A whimper builds, but you give him another nod, breathing through the anguish. There are a million little needles in your shoulder, all stabbing you over and over, ripping and gnawing at the cartilage, or the bone, or the muscle… you can’t be sure. “I’m going to bring your scrub top up now. Is this okay?” his fingers peel it from the turtleneck, and when he gets to your head, you incline your neck, more tears rushing forth.

“Yeah.” You whisper, a tired, pained moan, falling from your lips without permission.

“I know it hurts; I know. Almost there, try to breathe.” He soothes you, and the top slides towards him along your arm. He pulls it free, throwing it on the floor somewhere, his hands returning to your thighs.

“Sorry.” It’s automatic, ingrained. A reaction to pain, to fear, to the idea of being a burden, something that haunts you, every day. He ignores it.

“Ready for the next?” The turtleneck comes less easy, but the two of you are in sync like dance partners. The pain shoots up your arm when you move your neck again, and Simon wipes a few tears from your cheek, carefully leaning you back into the pillows and pulling the comforter down.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, the raw edge of surprise, horror, you’re sure, and you close your eyes. You can't look at him, when you know what he sees. You know what you look like. A roadmap of foolishness. Of weakness. You know the scars are plainly on display, still raised, still ugly. Like you.

He says nothing, only sits at your side, bed dipping with his weight. “I’m going to take your shoes off too, okay?” He narrates and asks for permission with each touch, pulling your sneakers free, satisfying thunk of each one hitting the floor, and then moves on to sliding the ice pack underneath you, wrapping it firmly but not too tight, ensuring it stays in place. He’s tender and slow, thoughtful, your eyes fighting to stay closed, brain and body starting to drift off into uncomfortable sleep. “Not yet, sweetheart.” There’s a rattle, two pills being deposited into your hand.

“What are these?"

“Paracetamol.” He turns the bottle, label out, word coming into focus enough to be verified, and you swallow them down with the glass of water in his outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” The croak stays lodged in your throat, and his eyes crinkle, the sign of a smile.

“Get some rest.” It’s comfort he gives you, leaning forward, pressing mask covered lips to your forehead. Comfort that doesn’t elicit a flinch or a sense of wariness, and you bask in the shine of the sun on your skin, holding tight to it, slipping into a dreamless sleep.

“Banky.” Pen demands, hands outstretched.

“No binky, it’s lunch time. Lunch.” Simon makes the sign for lunch, L shaped pointer finger and thumb, circling the corner of his mouth. He does it a few times, accompanied with the word again and again until Penny huffs and leans back, eyes wide. “You try. You try, lunch.”

“No!” She shrieks, and he shushes her, scattering some banana puffs across her tray.

“Shhh Pen. Bun is sleeping, remember?”

“Bunny seep?” She gives him the sign for sleep, or her sign at least, a palm dragging down her face followed by very dramatic closing lids. “Seep?”

“Yes, sleeping.” Simon makes the sign to acknowledge she was correct. “Good job.” He gives her a thumbs up, and she smiles, sweetness melting away some of the tense worry that's taken up in his heart.

“Puff?” She holds one out to him, but he shakes his head, pointing at her mouth.

“For you. Eat them, eat your puffs.” He signs along with the words, and she mimics him, food in hand, eyes lighting up when she finally makes it in her mouth.

He glances towards the stairs. You’re in the guest room, far enough away that Penny’s noise shouldn’t wake you, but still he tries to keep her preoccupied, distracted from making a fuss.

He wants you to get as much sleep as possible, this morning’s discovery of your shoulder unsettled him more than he’s frankly comfortable with, and the image of your swollen, battered face and neck leers and taunts.

She’s safe now. She’s here.

“Dada.” Pen calls, and he smiles, leaning forward to brush his lips across his baby’s soft skin, wispy curls tickling his nose.

“Love you, baby girl.” He signs it too, and she beams.

“Luh.” It’s supposed to be love, and though the word is a struggle, the sentiment is the same. He doesn’t care that she’s not quite got it yet, he’ll take every word, every syllable he can get. These moments, each moment with his child, Johnny’s child, theirs… is a gift, one he never thought he’d have until Johnny. A privilege.

His phone vibrates with a text message.

>Simon

>Give me a ring when you get a chance. On the black cell.

“Thought you were on vacation?” Kate sighs, click clack of keys echoing in the background.

“I am, but if I’m too idle I start to go crazy. The wife likes it when I have a project.” Simon pauses, cocking his head. Penny’s feet kick in the highchair, baby spoon banging against the plastic tray.

“Hang on, Kate.” He drags a kitchen chair over in front of her so he can sit, pinning the phone between his shoulder and chin to twist the lid off the applesauce pouch. “Shhh, here you go." Penny gurgles with a grin at the taste of the fruit, and he smiles back at her. "So, what’s the new project then?”

“The nurse.” Simon’s eyes dart to the floor above his head.

“It’s not a good time.”

“I can talk, you can listen.” She brushes him off, sipping something with ice and then continuing. “I found it hard to believe that a civilian would be able to scrub their footprint like this, so I did a little digging. The more digging I did, the worse my fixation became.” Like a dog with a bone.Simon holds his breath. “I just needed a key, and with those photos you provided, well, things just started unraveling.”

“Kate.” He growls because he can’t manage anything else. He’s trying to keep himself still, heart pounding in his chest. Penny coos, like she notices the shift in her dad’s demeanor, and he immediately attends her, thumbing at a smear of applesauce on her cheek.

“I found a SANE exam from a few years ago. Small hospital in southern Colorado, right over the border from Texas. Patient’s name is Jane Doe, but the photos are almost an exact match.” His stomach lurches, dark clouds shadowing his vision, world splitting into blood and rage. Violence.

He didn’t want to be right.

He wanted to it to be anything, anything but this.

Who?

Is it the same person that choked you? Beat you? Tore your shoulder damn near out of its socket?

His gaze drifts to Penny.

They'll need to loop Price in, immediately.

“Can you send it to me?”

“It’s already in your email.” She speeds past, eagerly. “There’s more. I used the photo to run facial recognition on archives in neighboring states and got a host of hits from Texas. You’ll have to visually confirm, but if I’m right, I’ve got positive ID on your girl.”

“How?”

“School. She graduated high school a year before the rest of her class, ended up with a full scholarship to Rice University in Houston, Texas. Went on to get a bioscience degree and graduated from Rice early.” Pride flutters beneath his ribs, honeyed and heavy. Their smart girl. “She ends up at a different school for pre-med but drops out before the first year ends. Not sure what happened but she started an accelerated nursing program, and breezed through it. You should see her transcripts. I don’t think this girl has gotten less than an A+ on anything since kindergarten.”

“Send them over.”

“Already done. After that, she starts work at a local hospital, and then… nothing. Her paper trail stops. Her job disappears. She’s a ghost except for the sealed court records, and now the Jane Doe medical chart, but that didn’t happen until later. The aliases she’s used over the past few years, they’re in the wind. It’s really quite impressive. She’s either got a connection somewhere, or she’s CIA.” Kate is animated, talking quickly, and he interrupts her to get to the question that’s weighing on him, brushing off the latter immediately. You’re not a honeypot. He spots those a mile away.

“You know her name, then. Her birth name?”

“I do.” She’s silent for a moment, and then she gives it softly. First, middle and last.

He closes his eyes. He tries to imagine you as a girl, on the playground, playing tags with other kids, all of them shouting your name, or as a teenager, in a fight with a parent, one of them yelling your name. He pictures you as a uni student, with your friends, laughing and having a good time somewhere, one of them hollering your name over too loud music. You’ve had a whole life with that name, a whole story. You were a person with that name, and he tries to imagine the way it would sound on your tongue, on Johnny’s, even his.

You’re a ghost now, will you let them bring you into the light?

Will you let them help you reclaim it; the way Johnny helped him reclaim his own?

Kate subtly coughs on the other end of the line.

“Thanks, Kate.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll keep digging. Check your email when you get a chance.”

“Will do.”

“Oh! And the hotel, I sent that paperwork to your email as well.” He thanks her, again, tells her to try to enjoy her time off and hangs up just as Penny starts to fidget, unhappy with being in the highchair for so long without attention.

“Alright, lamb. Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?” He pulls her free, showering kisses all over her cheeks and neck that make her giggle. “Can’t be wearin’ your applesauce and pajamas over to John and Lou’s, can you?”

Johnny is anxious. Simon can see it a mile away, even before he gets in the room, he notices how he is fidgets, unspent energy and too much time to dwell culminating in an unsettled state.

So, when he kisses him first thing, he makes it long and slow. He drags Johnny’s bottom lip between his teeth, carefully taking his time until he’s sure his partner is half hard beneath his hospital gown and blanket.

“Si.” Johnny groans, and he relents, pulling away to cradle his face between his hands, taking him in, every line, every fleck of gold in his blue eyes, soaking up the healing, healthy glow that glimmers in his skin.

His doctor says it won’t be long now, until he can come home, and Simon is counting the days.

To have everyone, under one roof, feels like a fever dream.

“Missed you.” Johnny noses into his neck, and Simon reciprocates with a kiss to his temple, his cheek.

“Missed ye too.” He pauses, squeezing his hand. “Pen?”

“Alright. Grumpy this morning. Think she wanted to see you.” She did, he knows it, but he tries not to pile it on. Johnny knows their daughter misses him, as much as he misses her. They’re two peas in a pod, best friends, halves to a whole. They’re both suffering. “Went with Lou and John fine. I’ll bring her in the morning.”

“Good.” He nods, tilting his chin for another kiss, and Simon gives it without hesitation, basking in the warmth and familiar feel of his skin.

When he clears his throat, he pulls away with a sigh. “How is she?”

“In pain. Shoulder is nearly torn out of the socket, and her neck is in poor shape. I had to help get her into bed, she couldn’t get her shirt off. Emotionally she’s… still got the walls up, but she let them slip for a second last night, before she let me help her. And I caught her crying in front of the fridge. Think the photos of Pen got to her somehow.” His stomach twists, new, horrifying possibility dawning on him. Do you have a child somewhere?

“Did she get any sleep?”

“She hadn’t come down when I left to take Penny, so I assume so.”

“Good. She needs it.” Simon agrees. After injury, after trauma, body and mind need so much more care. More rest, more nutrients, water, protein. More love.

“Kate called.” He bites the bullet, fingers flexing against his knee. “She found a loose end and tugged it.” Johnny straightens. He’s every bit the solider, even laid up in bed. Waxy, soft features turn razor sharp and focused, except instead of his practiced steadiness, he’s chomping at the bit.

“Tell me.”

Simon does. He tells him everything Kate said, almost verbatim. Johnny’s face changes from worried to enraged when he finally gets to the medical chart.

“No.” Johnny’s whisper is faint, thin, papyrus. Brittle and broken, almost washed away, and Simon doesn’t blame him. The chart is horrific for them, was horrific for him earlier, turned his stomach until he thought he’d be sick.

He’s killed. He’s tortured. But to be there when Johnny revealed the handprinted tender skin on your neck, to be there when you cried out in pain last night, when he saw the scars on your body, the cigarette burns that were so familiar, to look at these photos and know that you’ve been brutalized beyond belief, makes his vision run red and his heart ache.

There’s a ghost in these photos. A different girl, but the same, a glimpse of what he saw last night. Still their bunny, their girl. He can see her, through the broken blood vessels and compound forearm fracture. He can see her past the swollen cheekbone and broken nose, the fresh burns on your stomach and torso. The doctor’s notes indicate that you said you were mugged, and sexually assaulted, but refused to finish the SANE exam and took off.

He's not surprised.

The first time he saw the burns on your naked skin, he swore he could his mother’s screams, and for the hundredth time today, Simon thinks of her. He wonders, if she ever went to a hospital, if she ever begged anyone to help her, or them. He wonders if someone saw what was happening, how she was slowly disappearing, sinking in on herself, and tried to help. He wonders if she felt as alone as you seem to. If she too, became a ghost.

He looks at these photos and cannot fight the pain, the memories.

“Oh, Si.” Johnny cups his cheek, thumb soothing softly across his skin, trying to wipe away the tears that fall. He can’t stop them, not now, and Johnny does not ask, only holds him through it, lets him cry into his hands, pain and suffering of a small, frightened boy coming out of his body in broken sobs.

He won’t fail you. Not like he did her.

After minutes turn long, he takes a deep breath, pressing his lips to Johnny’s palm, and utters a promise as cold as death.

“We’ll kill them. Whoever it is.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x soap x reader #ghoap #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x soap #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #ghost x reader

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sacharinee · 10 months

Note

hi m!!! what do you think about bf!pete getting his wisdom teeth out? and the reader taking care of him?? hed be so funny lmao xxD

-🧸

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader w/c: 750 a/n: hi anon!! thnk u for requesting i had sm fun writing this! :)

you’re sat at the dentist's office, cooped up in those uncomfortable chairs while you anxiously waited for your boyfriend’s surgery to finish.

when peter ranted and moaned nonstop over his constant toothache, may decided enough was enough, and took it upon herself to set an appointment for her nephew. he wasn’t too keen on the idea. peter wasn’t afraid of anything ninety-nine percent of the time. dentists, however, wasn’t one of them.

“can’t you stay here with me?”

“stay? baby, no they’re gonna be drilling in your teeth.”

“but i-”

“and it’s gonna be bloody and nasty and i don’t wanna have to see all that.”

you turn towards him, only to come face to face with the boy’s horrified look, his eyes are wide and skin pale, mouth open in shock. you cringe at your response.

“but,” you stand, “you’re gonna do amazing, you’re gonna sit here and let the dentist do his magic.” you smile and lean down to plant a sweet kiss on his forehead.

“y/n/n, wait but-” you drop his hand on the way out, “bye, love you baby! be good!”

“y/n!”

two hours later swing by when a woman in navy scrubs comes to get you, announcing that peter is out of surgery.

you knew that he would be high out of his mind on laughing gas, you just didn’t think it would be this bad.

when you enter, the dentist is off to the side, looking over charts, packing a care bag for his patient.

peter’s head lulls towards your touch on his shoulder and slowly blinks at your presence.

“hi baby, how you feeling?” you give him a beaming smile.

your boyfriend does his best to muster the same grin, but the amount of gauze in his mouth makes his rosy cheeks puff out, drool dripping down the corner of his mouth.

peter takes a moment to stare at you, “woaahh” he languidly slurs his words, “you’re so pretty.”

you giggle at the comment when the boy gasps in horror, “wait, wait, i have a girlfriend, and she’s-” he looks up at you worriedly and slaps his forehead, “i’m in trouble.”

you can’t help but let out a laugh, he’s so dopey.

your fingers touch the bottom of his chin gently and lift his head, “i’m your girlfriend, silly.”

a loud gasp escapes peter as his face turns ecstatic, “get out!” you giggle at his reaction, the dentist glances over at you two and offers an admiring smile.

“so do we have sex?”

the awkward silence in the room kills you.

your face blushes, as you shake your head and clear your throat, “peter, no.”

“no?!” he sighs in disappointment, “aw man.” your boyfriend pouts at the floor, “what have i been doing with my life.”

“oh my god, pete,” when the dentist turns away, you whisper and offer him a shrug, “sometimes we do.”

the delight on his face returns and his eyes go wide, “really?!”

the boy seriously has no filter.

as you’re packing his things, peter pauses and pokes his cheeks, “wait y/n,” he pauses, “my face kinda feels weird.”

you look around and hand him a mirror from the counter, “oh my god…” peter gingerly touches his face as you kneel down at him, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“my face… it’s so fat!” he’s got tears in his eyes and whining with a jutted bottom lip, “y/n,” sniffle. “will-” sniffle. “will you still love me if my face is so fat?”

you roll your eyes and smile at his antics, “of course, i would.”

he seems pleased with your answer because he’s back to smiling. you go back to packing his things. “hey, mr dentist,” he woozily slurs, the gauze is practically spilling out his mouth, “d’you know i’m spider-man?”

you mentally facepalm at his obliviousness and mutter, “jesus christ.”

you turn to the older man who’s chuckling at his mental state and shrug, “he also thinks he’s luke skywalker from star wars.”

“but i am!-” “okay bug boy, lets go.”

“where we going?”

“home, sweetie.”

he gasps eagerly and raises his eyebrows at you, “to have sex?”

“oh my god.”

soon after the dentist explains and hands you everything he needs to recover, you guide peter to the car.

he’s extremely dramatic.

he’s got his hands around your shoulders, dragging himself on the floor, acting like he can’t walk - which he definitely can.

“peter, i know you can walk. c’mon help me out,” you beg.

“no, i can’t" he moans, "carry me,” he demands.

“what? no,”

“why not?”

“because you’re too heavy.”

and he’s crying all over again, “i knew it! you hate me 'cause you think my face is too fat!”

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yeonzzzn · 2 months

Text

🔑secrets that you keep: psh / lhs

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader x heeseung word count: 4.2k

synopsis: dating sunghoon was like living on cloud nine, he treats you like a princess, spoils you, shows you off and gives every ounce of love to you…so why do you keep thinking about one of his best friends?

genre: love triangle, boyfriend's best friends, established relationship, friends to lovers to friends, jealous!heeseung, smut.

warnings: cheating, two sex scenes, unprotective sex, car sex, reader gets bent over the counter top, degrading, fingering, finger sucking, alcohol, Sunghoon and Heeseung are down bad for reader. MINORS DNI. lmk if i've missed anything ♡

You made eye contact with him, watching the corners of his lips curl as he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes stare back into yours with so much care and want.

You quickly glanced away from him, forcing your eyes to look down at your plate of nachos, fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater. Praying no one else at this table noticed the small moment you just had with him.

“Everything okay, baby?” your boyfriend asks you, his hand sitting on top of yours to stop your fidgets, “You’ve barely touched your food.”

You quickly look over to him, wrapping your hands around his, giving a soft smile, “I’m okay, just a small headache is all.”

Please don’t let him have noticed how his best friend and I just had a moment together.

Sunghoon gave you a soft smile back, “We’ll get you some medicine once we are back at the house, okay?”

You nodded, feeling Heeseung’s eyes still on you.

Sunghoon leaned over, resting his arm on the back of your chair and placing a kiss on your forehead, “My sweet princess,” he whispered.

It didn’t go unnoticed how Heeseung’s relaxed expression tensed quickly, forcing himself to look away from you and his best friend and off towards the other end of the table, listening to Jake and Niki fight about what video game everyone would play once back at the house.

Jay rubbed his temples, snapping at them to quiet down, “We are literally in a public space can we not?!”

The only downside to going out with your boyfriend and his six roommates/best friends is how loud they all can get.

You tried to drown out the noise like usual, trying to distract your mind away from the chaos.

Except, Heeseung wouldn’t let the chaos rest.

He slouched in his seat, extending his legs out across the floor, setting them between yours.

Your face felt hot, eyes widening, and trying to not react too much so that it was not noticed by anyone. But Heeseung noticed, obviously.

“Are you sure you’re okay, YN?” Heeseung teased, but saying it in a way to not make it noticeable that he was teasing you, but you could tell.

Sunghoon’s eyes quickly flickered between the two of you, Heeseung’s legs sitting between yours becoming all too obvious to Sunghoon.

Before any more could be said, Jungwon was now the one yelling at Jake and Niki, deciding it was time to go back home.

You felt more at ease once you sat in the passenger seat of your boyfriend’s car, leaning your head back with a sigh, your whole body relaxing.

You noticed one by one, each of your friend's cars leaving the parking lot, Heeseung’s being the last in the line heading towards the direction of their shared home.

“Are we not leaving?” You asked Sunghoon, turning to face him, seeing his lust-filled eyes.

Sunghoon waited to get you alone all night. Tonight was supposed to be a date for the two of you, but ended up with Heeseung suggesting a group dinner, and since everyone was in favor, who was Sunghoon to turn his friends down?

Sunghoon reached his hand over to your thigh, squeezing the plush between his fingers, “I want you so bad, been thinking about it all day.”

You wasted no time crawling over the center console, straddling him in the driver's seat, and attaching your lips to his in a fiery passion.

Sunghoon reached a hand below the seat in unison with his tongue spreading your lips apart to invade your mouth, hand gripping the handle to push the seat backwards and lean it slightly back.

Your hands cupped his face as his hands slid your skirt up your thighs, bunching it at your waist.

Sunghoon couldn’t wait much longer, his dick twitching at the very thought of your cunt wrapped around him.

His fingers slid your panties to the side, feeling your slick drip out of you.

“Oh, fuck princess,” he moaned into your mouth, “so wet for me already my pretty?”

You nodded, your hands working at unbuttoning his jeans, his hips rising to help you pull them down to his ankles.

His fingers pumped into you in the same motion as your hand moved up and down his shaft, spreading his precum around his tip with your thumb.

Sunghoon moaned against your lips, his cock pulsing in your hand, “Princess,” he whispered, “I can’t take it anymore, let me fuck you.”

You slid onto him with such ease, rolling your hips as quickly as you could in the small space between the center console and the door.

Sunghoon’s hands squeezed your ass tightly, his nails leaving marks on your skin.

His head spun at seeing the way you rode his cock, sucking him so good with your cunt.

It didn’t take either of you long to cum, making a mess all in his seat. But Sunghoon didn’t mind, it was a problem for another day to deal with and clean up later.

When the two of you finally walked into the house, the screams of your friends echoed from up the stairs. Sunghoon held your hand tightly as you followed him to the second floor.

Heeseung sat in the recliner chair in the corner of the upstairs living room, his eyes narrowed and chin wrapped between his fingers, the clear look that he’s pissed off. Eyes staring bullets into the TV of the Mario Party game.

Sunghoon clocked it the minute he stepped foot into the living room, eyebrows raised, “What is his problem?”

Jake, Niki, Jungwon, and Sunoo, sat on the edge of the couch, Nintendo Switch controllers in their hands slapping their fingers along the buttons for the mini-game.

Jay sat in the bean bag directly across from Heeseung, his guitar sat in his lap as he played a soft tune, “I dunno,” Jay shrugged, “We all sat down and then thirty minutes later he stopped talking and was pissed off.”

You peeked around Sunghoon, Heeseung’s eyes immediately darted to you, then your hand still intertwined with Sunghoon, then back up to you, eyes piercing your entire soul.

You tugged at Sunghoon’s hand, motioning to sit on the couch.

Sunghoon swatted at Jake’s leg, forcing him and the others to shift to their right, making room for you two.

The minutes ticked by as you watched your friends continue their game, Sunghoon switching off with Jake every other turn.

Sunghoon was in the middle of a challenge when your phone buzzed.

heeseung: what took you so long to get back?

You rolled your eyes, quickly looking in Heeseung’s direction, seeing the same look you were giving him was looking right back at you.

You were angry, and to keep yourself from going off, you excused yourself to grab a drink of water from downstairs. Sunghoon kissed your hand before you walked away.

You were gone for five minutes and it was driving Heeseung crazy.

He quickly stood up, causing his six friends to glance at him.

“Where are you going, grumpy pants?” Jay asked, tuning his guitar.

“I need some alcohol.” which was true, Heeseung needed some of that liquid courage to get him through the night. Mostly if you plan to stay overnight with your boyfriend.

You heard footsteps coming down the stairs, peaking your head around the counter, seeing Heeseung. You should have known.

You rolled your eyes again, taking a sip of your water.

Heeseung was at your side in seconds, snatching the glass from your hands and placing it to his lips.

“Really Heeseung?!”

He shrugged, swallowing all your water, setting the glass on the table then making eye contact with you.

“Still not calling me Seungie?” he asked, his fingers tapping the glass.

You shrugged back at him, turning away from him, resting your lower back against the counter, and crossing your arms.

“YN, You think I’m dumb or something?” he said with a smirk.

Huh?

You raise a brow at him, “Excuse me?”

He chuckled, “Do you think I don’t know you fucked Sunghoon before coming back? Bet it was in his car too, wasn't it?”

It was your turn to chuckle, “That’s none of your business.”

“Oh, baby, yes it is,” he took a step closer to you, “It became my business that night you rode my dick into oblivion. Milking my cock with that sweet pussy of yours.”

You looked away from him, thinning your lips into a line.

You didn’t know things would end up this way. It was a drunken night. You, Sunghoon, Jay, Heeseung, and Jake all went to a party, had a little too much to drink, and had to call Jungwon to pick you guys up and bring you home.

You stayed the night that night. Waking up at four am with a headache and terrible hangover. You shuffled carefully out of Sunghoon’s bed trying to not wake him and carefully tiptoed down the hallway to the bathroom.

You were more out of it than you thought, taking to the wrong room expecting it to be Sunghoon’s. You couldn’t help it, you were still woozy and all their doors looked the same. It wasn’t your fault Heeseung’s room is next door to Sunghoon’s.

You didn’t realize until you opened the door and slowly closed it that you walked into the wrong bedroom, but by that time it was too late. Heeseung already saw you.

He was hunched over his bed with multiple empty water bottles lying around him.

“What are you doing here?” he softly asked, his voice shaken from clearly being sick of the alcohol he consumed that night.

You felt terrible for him, seeing him like that. So you did what any good friend would do, you took care of him. Got him a warm washcloth and more water.

It was the first time you were that close to Heeseung, noticing every curve of his face. How pretty his eyes were, how sharp his jaw was, how…kissable his lips looked.

Heeseung was obviously thinking the same as you, only he pushed that boundary and kissed you first. In shock at what he just had done, he apologized multiple times and begged you to not tell Sunghoon. You shrugged it off and blamed the alcohol. But as the next few weeks passed, you realized there was more to it than just blaming the alcohol.

He looked at you differently. Talk to you differently. His body language was different when you were around. Everything changed.

The sexual tension between the two of you built up over time. Heeseung proposed that you two hit it once, then never speak of it again. To get it out of your system. You weren’t sure about it and kept shoving him off until one night Sunghoon had to work late and your fingers weren’t doing it for you, not being able to wait until your boyfriend returned home.

So you snuck next door. And did what Heeseung said, you rode his dick until he was moaning your name against your lips and cumming inside of you so hard and much that he was seeing stars.

Heeseung was hooked after that. He couldn’t get enough of you. He didn’t want to stop. He wanted you all over him all the time. He wanted to hold you tight every night in his bed. Take you on cute as fuck dates and show you off. He wanted to love you.

But he couldn’t. You were cuffed to his best friend.

Heeseung honored his proposal, hitting it once and quitting. But as time went on, he couldn’t stand it.

He got up in the middle of the night and drove to your apartment, banging on your door until you woke up and let him inside, his lips immediately crashing against yours.

You couldn’t lie to yourself, you’ve been thinking of him too. Spacing out during lectures thinking about his hands on you.

You felt guilty. You were a taken woman. Sunghoon is so good to you. Treats you like a princess. Spoils you. Shows you off on every social media account he owns. Has even joked about getting your name tattooed on his wrist. Man was so in love with you, yet you did this to him.

But you couldn’t stop. Heeseung became a secret that you kept.

You’d call him almost every single night after Sunghoon would leave your apartment.

You created a secret folder where you kept photos of the two of you together.

You’d cry and break down about how unfair this all was to Sunghoon in front of Heeseung.

Your heart is torn into two pieces and both of those men have a part of it.

Heeseung hated what he was doing to his best friend, sure, but his heart was so attached to you. So attached to the point when you finally called everything off, Heeseung broke.

He turned cold. Got so jealous so easily. Would do anything to try and get your attention. To tease you to show you what you were missing.

Which leads you to stand in the kitchen with him beside you, angry to all hell.

You just stared at him, “Are you trying to tell me I can’t have sex with my own boyfriend?”

Heeseung hissed at that word, the word he so desperately wishes you’d call him.

He just shook his head, looking away from you, “Come back to me.”

“Heeseung,” you sighed, looking down at the floor, “You know we can’t.”

“Are you saying you’re just okay giving this,” he said, pointing between the two of you, “Up?”

“Heeseung,”

“That you’re okay giving up my cock?” he growled, pushing his length against your thigh, “It’s been almost a month, baby, I can’t take it.”

You tried to hold your ground, to do the right thing. And the only way you could think of was walking away.

But you chose the wrong direction to do so.

You turned away from him, going to walk around the counter and back up the stairs, but his grip on your waist pulled you back. His hips connected to your ass as he bent you over the counter, hand at the back of your neck.

“Fuck you’re so sexy like this,” he whispered in your ear, “and the fact that you’re not fighting me tells me exactly what you want.”

You didn’t deny it. You wanted him. You missed him.

“Such a fucking slut,” he whispered, riding your skirt up around your waist, “Got dicked down by my best friend and fixing to take my cock too, so dirty.”

You felt his fingers rub your clothed heat, and your juices coated his fingers, “Haven’t even touched you yet, and your soaked,” he groaned, “Fuck YN.”

He moved your panties to the side, his thumbs spreading your folds, “Fuck you’re a sight to see.”

“Seungie,” you whined, “Everyone's upstairs,”

“Then you better keep your fucking mouth shut,” he quietly snapped, the sound of his belt coming undone filled the room.

You bit your lips, your pussy clenching around nothing, making Heeseung lick his lips. God, he loves seeing you like this. Loved knowing you were so desperate for him like he was for you.

Heeseung placed three fingers to his lips, moving his tongue across them and sliding them into your hole.

You bit your lips harder, trying your best to conceal your moans.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you slowly, letting you feel what you’ve been missing since calling whatever your relationship was with him off.

“Seungie,” you whispered, hands gripping the other side of the counter, “Please.”

“Fuck,” Heeseung always lost it when you begged for him like that. The way his nickname you’ve given him just rolls off your tongue. Drives him insane. He was putty in your hands and would bend to your every will.

He played it off with his tough guy act, being so cold and dominant, which he did enjoy, yes. He loved seeing how you fold so fast at the way he handles you, but god he would submit to you so fast. All you had to do was give him commands, and he’d do it.

Heeseung lifted your ass up higher, giving him perfect access to your pussy, lining his cock up nicely to your heat.

You were about to beg him again but stopped the minute he pushed himself inside you, fucking into you at a desirable pace.

You were so sure you drew blood from your lip at how hard you were clenching down on it to keep the moans from slipping out. Knuckles turning white from the grip you had on the counter.

Heeseung was starting to lose himself in the pleasure. He hasn’t felt your cunt in almost a month. His hand only did so much for him, porn did nothing, and trying to hook up with someone else was out of the question.

Heeseung hung his head low, watching how you took his cock in its entirety, releasing soft groans from his lips.

You no longer could hold out. Your lip fell from your teeth, mouth slightly opened as the start of a loud moan escaped.

Heeseung was quick to act, shoving his fingers into your mouth and pulling you up, his lips found your ear, “What did I fucking tell you?” he growled, “I said keep that whore mouth shut.”

You moaned against his fingers, head spinning from how rough he was being with you. You loved it.

There was just something about the way Heeseung fucked you that always had you coming back for more.

Sunghoon fucked you so good as well, but he wasn’t rough like Heeseung.

Sunghoon will get rough with you, but not to the same extent Heeseung would. Sunghoon was more gentle, focused more on your pleasure than his own, and always made sure you felt loved and safe during sex. Which you adored completely. But sometimes a girl needs to be thrown around and fucked senseless.

Which is what Heeseung gave you. Heeseung made sure you felt good, yes. But he would always balance it out where you both are feeling good. Heeseung loves getting rough with you. Loves bending you over any object he could, and loves fucking you so aggressively. Pinning you to every surface. Pushing your face into the pillows, blankets, and couch cushions. It was so hot to him, mostly knowing it’s what you want.

Both boys give you two different types of sex you crave. And maybe that’s why you fell in love with them both. They each bring something to the table for you, and not just in a sexual way.

Heeseung’s head was starting to spin, losing himself even more.

You sucked on his fingers, your tongue rubbing between them.

“F-fuck,” he moaned, feeling like he was going to cum right now just from you sucking his digits.

“Can’t believe you called it off with me,” he whispered, pumping into you faster to chase the climax he wants so badly, “Can’t believe you kiss him in front of me,” he was starting to sound angry, “Can’t fucking believe I’ve had to hear the way he pleasures you when you stay the night,” he pushes into you deep, holding himself there for a few seconds, then sliding out and fucking back into you, punctuating the next words with each thrust, “It. Drives. Me. Fucking. Insane.”

You didn’t realize how close you were until that knot snapped, coating his cock of your cum.

“Oh, fuck,” Heeseung whined, shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth, “Fuck baby, I’m fixing to cum, holy fuck.”

Heeseung couldn’t hold out anymore, releasing his load inside you, a groan leaving his mouth.

He took a few deep breaths before removing himself from you and quickly sliding your panties back into place and shoving your skirt back down.

You turned around just in time to see Heeseung zip back up his jeans and clasp his belt, hands running through his hair, the sweat obvious on his skin.

“You might want to wash your face off before going back upstairs,” you mumbled, taking your empty glass and refilling it with water.

Heeseung leaned against the counter, smirking, “Fucked you so good after a month and that’s the thanks I get?”

You glared at him, pointing your index finger at him, “This is the last fucking time Lee Heeseung, you got what you wanted so respect my wishes.”

You turned away from him, making your way back towards the stairs.

“You’ll come back for more,” he teased, loving the way your body tensed up and whipped around to face him again.

“You’re such a dick.”

Heeseung wanted to fight back, to beg you to reconsider leaving him like this, but couldn’t. Not with the sounds of someone coming down the stairs. Not just anyone. Sunghoon.

He reached the bottom of the steps, eyes looking back and forth between you and Heeseung, “Did you two get into a fight?”

“Something like that,” you scoff, turning to face your boyfriend, standing on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek, Heeseung tensed. “I am going to shower then go to your room to watch a movie, my head still hurts. Is that okay?”

Sunghoon smiled at you, “Of course, princess, I’ll join you if that’s fine? I’ll brush your hair.”

You nodded, “I’d love that.”

Sunghoon kissed your forehead, it not getting past him that you were sweaty, but said nothing, watching as you ran up the stairs.

Heeseung opened the fridge, pulling out a beer he originally was supposed to come down here for.

Sunghoon chuckled, “That was a long time being down here just to only now get a beer.”

Heeseung just eyed his best friend, trying to play the most bullshit poker face, “Would have gotten it sooner, but your girlfriend yelled at me for being such a sour puss.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Right, okay. Sure.”

Heeseung clocked the attitude, “Is there a problem?”

Sunghoon just laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets, “No. Just that if you’re going to fuck my girlfriend, at least make it not so stupidly obvious.”

Heeseung sighed, closing his eyes tightly and dipping his head towards the floor, “Hoon, man I am so sorry.”

Sunghoon walked closer to his friend, making sure the next words he spoke wouldn’t reach the ears of the others or even you, “Do you take me as some fool? You don’t think I didn’t know you guys were screwing each other behind my back for months? I’ve been dating YN for three years, and have known you my whole life, you really think I wouldn’t have caught on?”

Heeseung didn’t know what to say besides the truth, “It just happened, man. Neither of us wanted things to get this way.”

Sunghoon heard enough and the last thing he wanted was to fight with his best friend, regardless of the betrayal.

So without another word, Sunghoon turned around.

“If it counts for anything, she called it off a while ago. I’m the one who kept pressuring and pushing her buttons.” Heeseung felt like shit. He knew everything would come to a head eventually or even if it didn’t, it would have been a secret he kept and took to his grave.

“I know,” was all Sunghoon said, “Again, I am no idiot. I noticed a change.”

Heeseung watched as his friend took a few more steps, “I am in love with her,” those words made Sunghoon turn back around, “I love her so bad man.” Heeseung clenched his hand on his shirt, “I can’t stop that feeling.”

Sunghoon just nodded, “I know you do man,” he shook his head with a sigh, “I see it when you look at her. She…she loves you too.”

Heeseung’s heart stopped, the grip on his shirt loosening, “What?”

“She loves you,” Sunghoon repeated, “I know about the hidden folder of the photos you two have. I caught her looking at them, she was crying. It was the same night I believe she called it off with you.”

Heeseung stayed quiet, not sure what was the right thing to even say.

“Why did you never confront us?” Heeseung genuinely wanted to know.

Sunghoon just shrugged, “Because she loves you, I guess. The last thing I wanted was to cause problems between our friend group or between her and me. That’s how much I love you both to put up with it. Yeah, eventually I knew I had to say something, but she cut ties with you before I could do anything.”

Heeseung was still in disbelief that you loved him. Yet the love and loyalty for Sunghoon was stronger. But knowing you loved him was still enough.

“She loves you deeply, Hoon,” he twisted the bottle cap off of the beer, “Enough to break my damn heart.”

Sunghoon nodded, “I won’t tell her I know. And you won’t either, got it?”

Heeseung nodded back, “Hoon, I am so sorry. I promise it’s done. It won’t happen anymore.”

“Good,” Sunghoon turned back around and headed back up the stairs, “I’m insane when it comes to her. I don’t do well with sharing what’s mine.”

Once Sunghoon was out of sight, Heeseung fell to the floor, tipping the bottle to his lips, “I don’t do well with sharing what should be mine either.”

#myiceprince #heeseunggie #sunghoon #heeseung #sunghoon x reader #reader x sunghoon #heeseung x reader #reader x heeseung #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #heeseung smut #yeonzzzn writing

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entitled-fangirl · 2 months

Text

Anything for you, beautiful girl.

Felix Catton x virgin!reader

SMUT later in the story

Summary: The reader has a panic attack after being called names. Felix makes sure she knows how well she's loved by him as he talks her through it.

Warnings: cursing, p in v, fingering, name-calling by someone else.

Author's note: this is a mix of like nine different asks, so I hope it did them well enough together! ALSO, SWEET LOVEMAKING WITH FELIX IS THE BEST OML. Like he def talks you through it.

Masterlist

..................................................................

Felix and Y/N had been dating for only a little while.

7 months, 22 days and counting.

Well, Felix was.

He still couldn't believe he managed to get the prettiest girl in school. And that, she was.

She was utterly gorgeous. But she had the habit of not giving many people the time of day, opting rather to be by herself. Felix had always thought that if she really applied herself, she could be the most popular in college.

…

She was supposed to meet Felix at his dorm after their morning classes, which was to be 12:20. She had gotten out of her's early, so she sat on his bed, watching her phone glow from a call from her mother.

Her parents were horrible people, and Felix often encouraged her to ignore their callings, like today.

But this was the fifth call in ten minutes. And even for them, that was a bit excessive.

So, she picked it up.

…

The time was now 12:30 and Felix was walking down the corridor of his dorm, nearing his door. He reached for the handle, pausing when he heard the muffled sound of crying through it. He pushed his ear against the door, trying to truly tell if it was coming from his room.

The second he recognized it to be her, he threw the door open.

And the sight startled him.

She laid on the floor next to his bed, her legs pulled up to her chest, her hands covering her face in muffled sobs and weeps.

She hadn't even heard him come in.

He immediately dropped his bag, kneeling down in front of her. He reached out with one hand, placing it on the side of her head.

She jumped, a small whimper coming from her throat as she finally looked up at him.

Her face was tear stained and her eyes were wide in fear. Her bottom lip quivered as she stared at him, her breathing beyond erratic.

But her eyes seemed to relax sightly as she recognized who he was.

Felix took a moment to access the situation, deciding what to do.

His voice was soft, a reminder of his gentleness for her, "…Angel? What's happened…?"

She simply continued to stare, her breathing too spastic to speak.

Once he recognized that, he sat himself on the floor completely, his worried eyes taking in her shaking frame. "Oh, Angel…" he cooed.

He gently pulled at her arms until he got her to sit in his lap. She then threw her arms around him and sobbed violently into his shoulder. "I…I couldn't… I didn't…" Felix tried to listen, but she couldn't even mutter a sentence through the tears.

He held her close to him, feeling her erratic heartbeats and worrying. "Hey…"

When she didn't respond, he reached up to cup her face, his voice stronger, "Hey."

She finally looked up at him.

"Angel… you gotta calm yourself. Breathe with me. Yeah, pretty girl?"

She let out a soft nod.

He pulled her hand onto his chest to let her feel his calming breaths.

Eventually, she got the pattern down, and her own breathing was becoming somewhat calm.

He lets out a soft sigh at the sight of her tears finally slowing. "Beautiful, tell me what happened. What started all this?"

She sniffled, shaking her head. She pushed her face back into his shoulder.

One of his hands came up to play with her hair. His voice was soft, "Angel, how can we fix this if I don't even know how it happened?"

Then he looked up, seeing her phone resting on the edge of the bed. His eyebrows furrowed. He reached up, taking the small phone in his large hands.

He saw the screen light up with missed call notifications from a 15 minutes ago, but then only 3 minutes ago was multiple texts, all from her mother:

"I meant what I said."

"Wait until your father hears about you."

An audible gasp came from Felix's mouth as he read the words. Some fucking family they were. "Angel…?"

She let out a soft hum against his shoulder.

He nudged her softly, "Angel, I need you to pay attention."

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. She saw the phone in his hand and her eyes widened, "Lex… I… I'm sorry."

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, "No, Angel. You're not sorry. Because you don't have anything to be sorry about. Right? You didn't do anything, did you?"

She shrugged, "Mum sai-"

"-I don't give a fuck what your mum says," he said sharply. He let it sit before his voice softened, "I'm sorry, baby girl. I shouldn't yell at you. Your mum says awful things. Just… tell me what happened."

She sniffles, "Well, she called me over 5 times and-"

"Well, why did you pick it up, pretty girl?" He asked, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear.

"I think I was worried something serious had happened. I… I should've known better, Lex. That's why I'm sorry…"

His heart was breaking for her. His perfect little angel truly thought she deserved the horrific things her family always told her. That she was worthless. Stupid. Ugly.

And above all that, she still felt the need to apologize to him for it.

"Oh, honey. Don't be sorry for that. We can't help it sometimes. Now," he pulled her close, his lips close to her ear, "tell me what she said to you today."

"…Promise you won't be mad…?"

He almost scoffed. Mad? At her? Never. Her mother? Always.

"No, angel. I won't be mad at you. I'll never be mad at you. Tell me."

She sighed, "She said I was… that I…"

Felix leaned in, waiting to hear her finish.

"…she said I was a whore."

Felix froze. His voice was deep, harsh and unkind, his face mimicking, "You're. Not. A. Whore."

Her eyes peered up to Felix's, a visible look of worry etched on her face. "I... It's just.. I… It…"

"I know, baby. It hurts when someone you trust says something so vile." He leaned his face to be inches from hers. "You don't believe it, do you?"

She looks down, her eyes saying enough.

Felix looked to the side, his jaw clenched. A long breath came out from his nose as he thought.

She noted the anger on his face and was quick to try to counteract it, "Felix. I… I'm fine. Please…"

"NO."

She leaned back from him, surprised by his raised voice.

He sighed again, trying to reign back his mind, "You're not a whore, angel."

She smiled, her hands coming up to caress his cheeks, "thank you, Felix."

"I mean it. You're no whore. We haven't even…. Ugh… why does she think that?"

"We've been dating a few months and… I guess she just expects it."

He nods, "Sure, for most. But you and I aren't most, are we, honey?"

She nods, "I'm sorry for that, too."

He does scoff this time, "I would wait a millennium, if that's what it took. I don't care."

"And to think…" she said under her breath.

He tilts his head, "…'and to think'….what?"

She looks at him like a deer in the headlights, realizing he had heard it, "I… nothing."

He smiles, "Tell me, angel. What's on your mind?"

"I just love you, is all."

His smile grew. He leaned close, a hand caressing her face gently as he slowly connected their lips. The kiss was soft and slow, expressing every emotion the other was feeling.

--------------------------SMUT STARTS HERE------------------------

He broke it, "You're so beautiful, angel." He kissed softly at her neck, "I would worship your body for eternity if you will let me." The humming of his voice tickled her throat softly, "Mmm… You own me, princess. Let me show you what you are to me, yeah?"

She nodded.

He gently picked her up, laying her on the bed. "How far can I go today, angel?"

She placed a hand on his chest, "I want you to go all the way."

His eyebrows furrowed, "W….what?"

Her voice was a whisper, "Please, Felix. I want to. I want… I want you, please."

He sat on the bed next to her, "And this… has nothing to do with earlier?"

She shakes her head, "I… I decided that today I wanted… I.. I wore… um… other things for today that I've never worn before. Because I want this, Catton. Please."

He smiled, "Alright, baby. I'll do just that." He leaned down, giving her a gentle kiss. "I wanna make you feel good. Can I do that? Make you feel pretty like you already are?"

She nodded, "Please, Lex."

He didn't need to be told twice.

He gently pulled the clothes from her body, taking his time to watch her reaction closely. He half expected her to back out.

But she wasn't backing out.

He let out a low whistle under his breath at the sight of her lingerie. She wasn't joking.

She was beautiful.

"Oh, pretty girl… you make me so proud to be yours."

He leaned down on her small body, kissing her again.

One of his hands began to wander south. One finger broke the band of her underwear, and he pulled away from the kiss. "This alright?"

She pulled him back down into the kiss.

His hand wandered down her panties to her slit. He knew not only by the feeling, but the sharp intake of breath from his pretty girl.

He smiled, "Can I touch you, angel?"

Her voice was a whimper, "Please… p…please…"

He gently pushed a finger into her core.

He had never done this with her. And, judging from her reaction, she had never done this at all.

A low moan came from her throat as his second knuckle passed her pussy lips.

"Oh, honey. So pretty f'me. Yeah… prettiest girl I know…"

Once his finger bottomed out, he began to pull it back out, only to repeat the process.

Her eyes were closed, her breathing shaky.

She was a vision.

Felix couldn't stop the smile on his face.

He loved her so much.

And she was trusting him with everything she had.

"Alright. I'm gonna add another one. Think you can take that?"

She nodded through the feeling, letting herself be stuffed with his fingers.

He kissed her forehead, "Just getting you ready for me, yeah?"

Her hand reached down her grip his wrist, "Felix.. I.. I don't…"

"Pretty girl can't hold on anymore? That's okay. Let it out, baby. Let me hear it."

Her back arched as she came on his fingers. A small whimper came from her mouth as her toes curled involuntarily.

She slumped back against the bed, feeling him kiss her neck gently.

"Good. So good. You wanna stop?"

She shakes her head, "No, please. I.. I wanna do this…"

He nods, "Okay. We'll do it."

He stood, rushing to his backpack. He pulled a water bottle from it, bringing it back to the bed. "Here, angel. Drink."

She did as he commanded.

Once she caught her breath, their lips connecting once more.

…

"Think you can do this, angel?"

She nods.

"This is what you want?"

She nods again.

"I have to hear you say it, princess. Please."

"Felix, please. I want you."

His hips slowly met with hers as he sunk into her.

He couldn't help the satisfied breath that left his lungs.

She let out a small grunt.

He bottomed out, looking back at her. "Tell me, baby."

Her eyebrows were furrowed together and her breathing become shallow. "I.. it hurts, Lex."

He nods, "I know." He kisses her forehead. "I'll stay as long as it takes for you to be ready."

After a moment, she nods, her hand coming up to his chest, "Please…"

He smiles, "Alright, angel. This may still hurt a bit, but it'll feel good, too. I promise."

And with that, he began to thrust.

He couldn't stop the soft curses that came from his mouth under his breath. He couldn't help it. Seeing her so pretty under him like this alone could make him come undone.

She was no different. The pain turned into pleasure quick and she was arching her back to meet with his thrusts.

One hand of his reached down to push her hips back down, "Calm down, angel. I'll relieve you. I always will."

She nodded, small grunts and whimpers coming from her throat.

This moment was beautiful, and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

He rested on one elbow, the hand on that arm coming up to her face, lightly tapping her cheek, "You gotta breathe. C'mon, baby. Breathe for me."

He was right. In all the pleasure, she wasn't breathing well.

Soon, he leaned down to her ear, "You close, honey?"

"S…s…so…so close…"

"Me too. God, I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. Do it, baby."

And she did.

He was not far behind, grunting as he came.

And the two simply stared at each other in awe.

"Thank you, angel."

"For what?"

"For trusting me this much."

He got up, throwing on his boxers. He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving her alone in the bedroom.

She sat up on her elbows, her eyebrows furrowing.

She didn't understand why he'd leave like that.

He returned quickly though. "C'mere, princess. Let me clean you up."

He held a soft towel in his hand.

He gently cleaned her, kissing her temple while doing so. "How about a bath, beautiful?"

She smiled, "I'd love one."

He nodded, "Anything for you, beautiful girl."

.......................................................................................

#fanfiction #felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton imagine #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi imagine #felix catton x you #saltburn 2023 #saltburn angst #saltburn movie #saltburn smut #saltburn #felix catton smut #smut

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bunn-iiii · 3 months

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what mutual am i (made by me cause I thought it would be fun) ASK GAME

[Picture ID: A drawing with 12 circles all different colors and labeled different things, bullet points follow under them.

the first circle is a deep purple with light purple glitter particles. It's labeled "purple glitter" and the bullet points under it say: "fabulous", "I love your aesthetic very much", "you do have an abnormal amount of microplastics in your blood though".

the second circle is a neon green with a lighter green wave around it. it's labeled radioactive. the bullet points for it are "some sort of creature", "you give bioluminessence vibes".

the third circle is a medium pink with dark green leave and a stem on the top. it's labeled starberry. the bullet points are "I think we should bake together", "flower crowns possibly".

the fourth circle is a light seafoam green labeled seafoam green. the bullet points are "maybe a little snobby", "calm yourself", "I don't know why I still follow you tbh", "Maybe I'm just reading you wrong".

the fith circle is multiple colors, in order from top to bottom: very light blue, sky blue, yellow, red, black, purple, pink, to light pink. it's labeled do you like the color of the sky. the bullet points are "you're always on tumblr", "hits post limit daily", "you should go watch some tumblr history videos if you haven't already".

circle number six is a brick pattern labeled throwing bricks. the bullet points are "you're my resource for all of the things happening in the world", "probably really punk or at least an Anarchist".

circle number seven is a red panda's facial fur pattern labeled red panda. the bullet points are "so soft", "very small", "you're so cute", "my favorite silly".

circle eight is a light off white color labeled cu- I mean creme. the bullet points are "Hey there", "I mean you wanted to-", "slash jay".

circle nine is a deep gold color with a light shine to it labeled stay gold. the bullet points are "book reader", "how do you read so many", "pretty cool", "also a nerd".

the tenth circle is a medium purple with a light purple heart in the center. it's labeled my favorite purple. the bullet points are "you're my favorite person on this hellsite", "why are you here, you're so nice", "are you a people pleaser".

the eleventh circle is a bright pink with pastel pink stars labeled barbie dream house. the bullet points are "nostalgia.", "do you live in the past I swear you do", "are those rose tinted glasses comfortable bub".

the final circle is a black color with a red blood splotch. it's labeled Gerard Way in the 2000s. the bullet points are "popular mutual", "I think you're pretty neat and also kind of scary", "probably really sweet but I'm still intimidated". /.End ID]

#my art #ask box #ask games

2K notes · View notes

messylustt · 10 months

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౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲...

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 7.7k words.

fic masterlist previous part pt nine (finale)

smut; blood kink??; female oral; he’s got fangs and claws, im sure theres a kink for that (biting etc); a lil bit of web play (basically instead of rope or cuffs); dominant/top miguel (for the most part hehe); praising; first time; unprotected (but imagine that for some reason you are on birth control); fluff; for the serum stuff that Miguel takes I am totally making the reason why he takes it up (coz there was so many different variables); slight violence + mentions of small injuries — god, was his touches something else. the feel of him and the feel of you. miguel finally gets to have you. and would you look at that…you’ve all formed a little plan to get rid of the masked men once and for all.

“Mm.” Miguel hums to himself, eyeing your laid out body, before he’s lifting a fraction of your shirt.

Your legs are still wide and around his waist, and his hands move to widen them even more, pushing them up slightly, as he leans down towards your stomach placing open-mouthed kisses along your skin. Goosebumps almost immediately appear, even more so when you feel his tongue lick out along the side of your waist.

It was where his claw marks were. Where he had accidentally cut you. Your breathing stutters as he licks off some of the blood, his large hands holding your thighs. At the whole ordeal your head rolls back, your teeth coming down to bite down on your lip. Hard. It was a type of sting that sent pleasurable shocks through your body.

Miguel’s licks and kisses lead down your stomach to the edge of your pants. He looks up at you from between your legs. “Cariño, if I’m finally gonna get to taste you…I’m gonna need you to see.” He has a sly smirk edging his lips as you glance towards him.

“Finally?” You breathlessly question. He said that as if he’d been wanting to do this for forever.

But his eyes narrow a fraction, crawling up your body, he tilts your chin up as your wide eyes catch his. His hand slips to hold part of your throat as he leans forward and runs his tongue right across your bottom lip. You had bit down hard. Hard enough to draw blood.

You could see the red on his tongue when he drew away, a lustful gaze very prominent in his matching coloured eyes. “Ay, you have no idea…” He whispers in response. And just as he goes to go back down your body you grab him into a kiss.

One he easily accepts, his hand supporting the back of your neck, so that it didn’t strain from the lean up. You then shake your head, because his hand had begun to unbutton your pants, clearly thinking about going back down your body. “You don’t have to do that.” You say, holding part of his hair.

But he doesn’t listen, going back to the end of the bed, as he pulls (rips) your pants off, your panties now visible to his hungry eyes. “Miguel—“

“Maybe this should be my side of the deal?” He widens your legs, you having closed them. His gaze hasn’t shifted from your panties, and more or less your pussy. “You know what…yeah…it is.”

“Really, it’s…” you drift off, not because you don’t want him to. God, you felt the urge to clench your thighs at the thought. It’s just… “I’ve never…”

Miguel looks up at you, slowly catching on. He held back an almost satisfied grin as he kissed your open thigh, dragging his lips along your skin before he speaks. “I’ll be so gentle…cariño.” His kisses move to your inner thigh. “So…so, gentle.” His gaze gets caught up again in your clothed pussy, as his fingers itch to reach out.

“I promise…that’s all I wanna do… I wanna make you feel good. You wanna feel good…right, y/n?” It’s more so a demand now, his low tone making you really want to close your legs. He looks back up at you, his breath now right over your pussy, making it clench around nothing.

“Christ…” You breathe, staring down at the visual of Miguel O’hara between your legs.

“Just…” He licks his lips, leaning closer to your clothed pussy, as his claws extended over your bare thighs. “Just a try…to try…see how you like it.”

Then you find yourself nodding. And Miguel feels elated, as he moved one hand towards your pussy his breath still warm against it. He then uses the pad of his thumb to press and slowly rub against your covered clit.

Your hips jolt, making Miguel hold your stomach down with his free hand, your leg now leaning over his shoulder. “Gotta stay still, cariño…gotta stay still for me…hm?”

He began to rub in circles, noticing a forming wet patch. “Ay, y/n…see? It does feel good.” He breathes. “It feels so good.” He mutters again to himself this time, quickening his fingers’ movements, making your hips unintentionally shift again. His hand on your stomach pressed you further into his bed, his tongue coming out to lick the cotton of your panties.

A small mix of a hitch of your breath and a whimper falls from your lips. “That feel good? Yeah?” Miguel’s finger quickens over your clit, his tongue poking out and close to your dripping hole.

“Miguel—” You cut yourself off, a shameful quiet moan slipping.

“Dios, it’s like you’ve never been touched.” He says breathlessly, as his rubbing soon grew not nearly enough. Miguel used one of his claws to pull away the edge of your panties, that rested by your lower stomach. He looks up at you again to see an almost shy look spreading across your face.

Miguel thought you only meant that you’d never been eaten out before. Not that you’d never had sex. His breathing grows shorter at the realisation that you’d never been touched. At all. No one else has seen you like this…and no one else ever will.

“Lift your hips.” He mutters quickly. “Come on.” He sounds close to impatience. So much so that he actually gives up on pulling your panties off, and instead decides to just rip them with his fangs.

You gasp as the air hits your exposed pussy, Miguel having kept your legs spread, as he tossed your destroyed panties to the side.

“Mm, such a pretty little thing who can’t stay still…and who’s so…wet.” He grinned, two of his fingers moving to experimentally run up your soaked slit. “Look at you…” He’s breathless. “Practically dripping onto my fingers. Already…cariño?”

Your breathing has given up on trying to pick a rhythmic beat. Your mind can’t focus on anything else but the feel of Miguel’s fingers. Which keep swirling and moving up and down your pussy, spreading your arousal around. He’s taking his time, and it makes you go against his hand on your stomach—your hips moving slightly down into him.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop moving?” His question is a straight demand. “I want to enjoy myself. For as long…as I want.” His warm breath went back to hovering over your pussy, as his hand drew away to lick his fingers clean. Your eyes widen at this, your breathing getting choked in your throat. “So…sweet. Did you know that you tasted this sweet?…No…I bet you didn’t. My sweet innocent girl, huh?”

He wrapped his hand back around your thighs, his claws digging into your flesh—not to cause harm but to leave a possible indent. He’d be making many more anyway. And just as his tongue was about to lean forward and taste he spoke, muttering quickly as he looked up at you. Though he was impatient to try, he didn’t want you do be too nervous. “‘You’re gonna let me try…right? Make you feel good, as I said I would? Por favor….cariño. You can tell me to stop…” He leans a little closer, his breath now tickling your throbbing clit.

You quickly nod. “I need a proper answer.” He says, to which you mutter a quick. “Yes…yes.”

Miguel doesn’t hesitate as he immediately leans all the way, and licks a long stripe up your entire pussy. You gulp—the cold feel of his tongue and spit contrasting with your heated core, making your eyes want to roll.

Miguel groaned into you, as he lapped at your pussy, easily becoming addicted to yet another part of you. “Mm…taste so good for me…so good…just for me right?” He mutters out, looking back up at you—his hair strewn over his forehead as his tongue gave your pussy kitten licks. “Oh—god, Miguel.” You moaned out, your chest heaving up and down.

“Hm?” He wanted an answer, but he wasn’t leaving your pussy alone. So through choked pleasure you tried to speak. “Y-yes…for…you.”

“That’s right…” He spoke to your clit now. “All for me.” He began to suck, making your back arch off the bed, and this time Miguel let’s you, his hand instead sliding up your stomach, and under your shirt, going straight for the edge of your bra.

His claws softly dragged across your skin, all the way around to your back, managing to unclip your bra. How he could multitask so well, you’d love to know. Pulling your bra out from under your shirt, he pushed the material up, exposing your tits.

His tongue didn’t let up its feverish sucking, licking, and kissing. Miguel’s small groans of approval and lust sending multitudes of shivers up your spine—your entire body. Then the tip of his claw brushes over one of your already peaked nipples.

The hitch in your breath was hint enough to Miguel that you liked it. He occasionally shifted from rubbing the pad of his finger in circles over your nipple, to pinching it gently between his claws. Then as his tongue began to press harder, closer to your dripping hole his large hand completely wrapped around your tit, squeezing and playing with it.

Your head is now knocked back against Miguel’s pillow, just as his tongue slightly thrusts inside your pussy. You gasp at the feeling. “Carajo…your pretty little hole is so…tight.”

Your body is beginning to sweat, your face entirely flushed as Miguel continues to thrust his long tongue inside you, his nose brushing along your throbbing clit. God, was it throbbing. You began to slightly squirm under his tongues abuse, feeling your stomach tightening.

“Mm.” Miguel chuckled into your pussy. “Are you gonna cum?” His tone is almost teasing, his hand continuing to massage your tit—having moved to your other one. “Cause it feels like your gonna cum all…over my tongue. Isn’t that right, cariño?”

You hastily nod, breathing heavy as your stomach tightens. “Uh…I’m—“

Miguel places his whole mouth over your pussy, continuing his pleasurable torture, making your back arch off the bed, as your orgasm crashes over you. “Oh, fuck—Miguel.” Your breathy moan makes Miguel ache in his suit. A suit he’d very much had enough of.

Miguel makes sure he eats up all your cum, not moving away from your pussy until your thighs are twitching with slight overstimulation. When he leaves your cunt, your back slumps against the mattress, breathing extremely hard, your forehead sheened with sweat. In one swift movement Miguel is pulling his suit off, letting your gaze stop on his hips and chest and abs.

He’s crawling back over your body, not before pulling you closer to him by your thighs. He cages you in, leaning closer to your face, as he still licks his lips. He leant forward and slowly—torturously—kissed your cheek. “Thanks, cariño.” He whispered in your ear, his tongue slightly darting out in a lick. He couldn’t resist, your skin just tasted so delicious.

With his large body caging you in and his kisses moving to your neck you manage to slip your hand into his hair, pulling his head back. You could almost feel him entirely, if he just leaned his hips down a fraction. But he seemed to enjoy the teasing, so you decide to grip harder on his hair, earning that same tiny whimper that contradicted his entire attitude, as you wrapped your legs tighter around his hips.

And with his loosened form—result of your hair tugging—you manage to somewhat flip you both, your legs now in a straddle over him—you having had the advantage of your wrapped legs. Miguel narrows his eyes at the action, looking up at you, as his hands fly to your hips, going to speak on how he’d rather be on top, when you completely sit down on him, making his words choke and die in his throat.

You placed your hands on his chest for support, and Miguel quickly grabs your wrists—still attached to his chest. Fuck, now you could feel him. And shit did he feel big, hard against your pussy, already dripping again. At the feel of your pretty cunt against Miguel’s cock his lips twitch up in a pleasured snarl. His grip tightened around your wrists. “I like being in control…y/n.”

“I can tell.” You say, moving your hips experimentally along him. He hisses at this, pulling at your arms and making you lose your support so that you fall against his chest. “Miguel.” You partially groan in annoyance making him smirk in amusement. His hands then wrap tightly around your waist, keeping you there. “Miguel…” You say again. “I want—“

“But this is my side of the deal, y/n.” He moved to leave kisses along your jaw. “So, isn’t it about what I want?” He teased. “What I want…” He moved to your ear, beginning to shift his body to move you both, successfully flipping you. When your head hits the pillow your hands suddenly get stuck.

You look up and behind you to see your wrists are attached together by an orange web, which is then attached to the head of the bed. You quickly look back to a smug Miguel. He hand used his web bands swiftly before taking them off, and settling on top of you again. “Miguel—“

“Shh…” he dragged his bottom lip up your neck, his fangs grazing your rapidly beating pulse. “This is a l-little unfair.” You say between breathes.

“Is it?” Miguel asks. “You used your advantages before…now I’m using mine.” He smiles against your skin. “And I have plenty of advantages.” In response to his words his fangs now purposefully drag across your soft, sensitive skin. You shiver, your breath hitching. Miguel could feel the quicken of your pulse under his tongue, making him smile.

Because the way you were shifting your hips showed him that it wasn’t out of fear…but something else entirely. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure my advantages make you want to scream.” He chuckles, now moving to hover over your lips. You meet his gaze.

He keeps eye contact as his hand—claw—dragged down the side of your bare body, drawing loose patterns on your skin, until he reached your pussy, moving his sharp claw over your clit, making your stomach contract and your hips jolt, your mouth opening—his lips still hovering. “So reactive.” He cooed, dragging his claw back over it.

His breathing soon became laboured, the teasing getting too much even for him, as he takes his hand away to grip your waist, your body stretched from being restrained—arms up. He then grabbed his cock, moving the head through your wetness, making sure you’re wet enough, while simultaneously getting your arousal on his aching cock. “Mm, I wanna fuck you so bad.” He groaned, his cock stopping over your hole as you clenched around nothing.

He leant down to litter your face and lips with kisses. “You’re gonna have to loosen up though, cariño.” His cock pushed slightly inside you. Your pussy not meaning to clench around him but it does anyway. “Dios…y/n, please.” He hisses out, wanting nothing more than to just thrust fully in.

But he wouldn’t. Not until you had loosened up and and not until you had told him he could. “Just loosen up for me…”

And you take a breath, relaxing your body, leaving room for Miguel to push further in. “Oh—“ you press your lips together at the feeling of being stretched. “No no no, cariño, I want to hear you.” Miguel says, grabbing your cheeks between his fingers. “Come on…let me hear that pretty voice of yours.” With his grip on your cheeks you were forced to open your mouth.

Miguel leaned down to explore it with his tongue, making the sounds tumble easily from your lips. “That’s it…” he smirks, pushing further in. You clenched your restrained fists tight, as your chest heaved.

God Miguel was holding back. Everything about you made him want to move his hips. He wanted to feel you, be your first. But that meant taking it slow, and for you he would. “You’re doing so so good, cariño…so good for me…mhm.” He praises, as he moved his hand back down to rub your clit. Hiding some of the pain with pleasure, making your legs almost shake.

“Carajo…” He whispered, shutting his eyes a moment as he pushes all the way in, filling you to the brim with his cock. You were right—he was big. So big that you’ve indented your palms with your nails. “Ay…dios no.” Miguel hisses out, his grip tightening around your waist. You felt too good, that it almost had him muttering in a plead to move his hips.

The painful stretch had slowly become pleasure, his finger still rubbing your clit in circles. “Fuck, Miguel…move…please move…god.”

And Miguel has never been more happy to hear a simple sentence as he pushes out to thrust back into you, his hair was growing damp already, as he began to thrust in and out, your tight little hole making Miguel mutter and groan out anything on his mind. “Ay, dios…so good… feel so good cariño…doing so well...I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long…you have no idea.”

Your eyes are holding back from rolling wanting to see Miguel’s sweating body. You slightly struggle against the web, wanting to touch him. “Please Miguel…I just…”

He grins. “Look at you…so adorable.” He coos, leaning closer and kissing you hard. “Mi—“ you try through his kisses but he’s persistent. “Shh, I just wanna feel that tongue…come on...” He partially snarls out as your tongue finds his, his head pushing harder against yours, as his thrusts quicken, making you moan into his mouth.

“Uh huh…eso es, cariño… mm…you wanna know something?” He asks, his head slightly dropping to your neck, breathing heavy, as he had begun to move his hips at a pace that’s making you pant. He smiled against your skin, his hand moving up to play and fiddle with your tits.

“W-what?…” You manage through whimpers and pathetic groans. “The first night after our little deal was made…I couldn’t help but touch myself.” He nipped at your skin, right by your pulse. “Ma’ girl was so…breathless from a bit of excersise…mouth open…”

He chuckled into your neck, continue to fuck your aching cunt, which is practically dripping all over him. “It was hard not coming into your new room…You were so close by.” His fangs had begun to graze against your skin a fraction harder. “So for compensation I imagined touching your pretty little lips…” as demonstration he moved his hand to spread two of his fingers over your bottom lip.

“…seeing what your annoying tongue was all about.” He pushed his two fingers into your mouth, finding your tongue with his claws. “Mm…” Miguel hummed, mouth opening against your hot skin, his fucking making your mind see stars.

“You wanna know something else, y/n?” He placed a long open-mouth kiss to your pulse. “Hm?” He smirks, wanting you to speak. “Come on, talk more…i wanna hear your voice, didn’t I say that?” He had begun to match his cock’s thrusts into your pussy, with his fingers’ thrusts into your mouth, your drool coating his skin. He was teasing you, and in response you bit down on his fingers.

And of course you didn’t get the reaction you wanted, Miguel’s eyes instead lighting up with a new found heat. “That…exactly that…dios…did I want to do that to you.” He continues to fuck your mouth with his fingers, his hips thrusts hitting your g-spot over and over and over.

You’re surprised you haven’t orgasmed a second time yet, while you could clearly tell that Miguel had high stamina. He then leant back to your neck, softly biting. “…I imagined biting you…and now that I know what your blood tastes like…ay cariño, it’s hard to hold back.”

You had begun to nod before you even realised your heads movements. Miguel lifts his head to look at you, chest heaving, as his cock twitched inside you at your little response. “What was that?” He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, your saliva running slightly onto your bottom lip.

“I—“ you gulp, eyes fluttering, as you felt your pussy clench around him.

“Aw…are you gonna cum again?” Miguel coos. “Your body is so easy to pleasure.” And Miguel is beyond pleased at how obedient it is. His hands slightly run up and down your waist. “But before you do…” he slows his thrusts, knowing for himself that he could go on and on and on.

You slightly whine at the prolonging of your orgasm. “What were you nodding along to?” Miguel is watching you closely, as his thrusts have turned utterly torturous. In…and out….in and…out. And it’s making you squirm.

“You gotta tell me or I’ll keep at this pace…” he leans closer to your face. “And you know I have all night to do so.”

Your breathing is heavy. “I nodded because…” you were slightly nervous to say.

“Yes…?” Miguel pushed, his gaze darting everywhere it can.

“I…wantyoutobiteme.” You rush quietly out.

“I haven’t nearly fucked you close to speaking nonsense yet.” Was Miguel’s way of saying ‘repeat slower’.”

You gulp. “I want…you to bite me.” You meet his gaze, and your breathing stops at the focused look he’s shooting at you. His breathing shallows, as his eyes dart down to your neck. You slightly lean your head a fraction back—a silent invitation that is making Miguel go practically feral. His nose twitches in bloodlust—the kind that is making his thrusts inside you quicken.

Then before you’re knowing it his warm breath is by your neck, as his hand wraps around your throat, tilting your head how he wants, as his fangs drag a little harsher against your skin. Your heart is on fire, as you then hear Miguel mutter something incoherent, but the latino accent is thick as sinks his teeth into the side of your neck.

You gasp, your hips shuddering against his quickening thrusts. Now you were close to your second high. Miguel’s fangs stung at first, before a strange sort of pleasure takes over as he sucks on your neck, his grip around your throat tightening a fraction, as his thrusts turn unrelenting, the slight dizzying feeling of loosing a small amount blood only adding to the experience.

“Holy fuck, cariño…y-you’re doing so good for me. Being…so good for me…aren’t you?” Miguel breathed out, once he finally let go of your neck, not wanting to drink too much. His tongue came out to soothe the fang marks, licking up some more blood.

When you caught sight of him, you felt your heart stop. Your pussy clenched around him, as you saw his messy, damp hair, and the blood tainting his lips. Your blood. And you don’t know why that does something to you but it does, making your stomach clench, your second orgasm quickly following. “You gonna cum, cariño? You gonna cum for me? All over me?” He mutters, fucking you rhythmically until the pleasure hits, making your head knock back.

Miguel needed a little more to get him there. Just a little. So he continued to fuck you through and after your orgasm, making your legs shake. “Migu—“

“Shhh…y/n…I’m almost there…por favor…I’m so close.” His head rested in the crook of your neck as he thrusted into your poor abused hole, the overstimulation making your breathing choke and incoherent words fall from your lips.

“Mm, doing so good…so fucking good for me…” Miguel groaned out, feeling his cock twitch inside you. “Gracias, cariño….shh…thank you.” He whisper-moans into your neck, as he finally orgasms, his breath shuddering, as his thrusts begin to slow.

When he finally pulls out of you, you can barely move. Just how Miguel wanted. He wanted to take care of you, and if you had enough energy you’d say ‘no, I’m fine’. So Miguel slightly grins, kissing your jaw, then cheek, then lips. Pausing on them as he pecks them again.

Your eyes are glittering with exhaustion, and Miguel’s hand has gone back to stroking your skin. “Gracias, cariño.”

You’re still breathing heavy, as he rests his chin by your chest, tilting his head as he looks at your fucked out expression. Oh how he wanted to see that again, over and over again.

“I feel like…I should be the one sayin’ thanks...” You breathe out. You can’t even put into words what that was like. Not that you could really form them that well anyway.

Miguel couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he watched you shut your eyes, slowing your breathing. He hums as his claws gently continue to draw patterns on your warm skin. With eyes still shut you say “At least now I have experience…you know…I can now know what I’m doing with guys.” You hold back your teasing smile.

Miguel’s smile immediately drops as he stares at your still shut eyes. He snarls, pulling your body to lie atop his, making you yelp. He wraps his arms around your body. “No no, ‘guys’ as in plural?” He shakes his head. “Oh no y/n, im not sure if you get it…you’re all mine now.”

You stare at his focused red eyes, his claws tightening around you. Your amused smile widens, as you quickly peck his lips. “No.” Miguel warns, not wanting to be effected. “I want you to say that you won’t—“

You cut him off by another, longer kiss. And Miguel can’t help but let his eyes close, his head moving with yours. “Y/n…”

“Shut up.” You whisper against his lips. And Miguel can’t help the satisfied smile that curves his mouth.

;;

The light was peaking through the curtains when you woke. You almost got a fright seeing a sleeping Miguel beside you. His arm was draped over your stomach, his chest slowly rising. In all honesty you’re still in slight shock at everything that had occurred yesterday. Literally everything changed.

Your gaze catches sight of the bedside clock, seeing the time. You scan the floor for your clothes, spotting your completely destroyed panties. This’ll be an uncomfortable walk to your room then.

But as you were about to get up to get dressed the arm that was draped over you tightened, pulling you back into a warm chest. And you think you might actually die when you hear the low morning voice of Miguel right in your ear. “Don’t tell me you we’re gonna leave.”

You pressed your lips together. “I’m late.” You whisper.

“To what?” He groans, keeping you pressed to him.

“Miguel…” You try to slightly move, but in response Miguel swiftly moves over your body under the sheets, trapping you under him as he tilted his head. “Hm? To what?” He repeated.

“Work.” You say.

He raises his brows. “You can’t be serious. Work? You were gonna leave me for work?”

“Said no boss ever.” You respond. Miguel scoffs, his hand subconsciously moving to brush along your jaw. “Exactly. I’m your boss. And you listen to your boss regarding work, right?”

You narrow your eyes. “Mhm.”

He leans closer. “Well your boss says you don’t have work today.” He moves to kiss your lips, but you press your hands against his chest stopping him.

“No no. I will not get any benefits.” You’re serious.

Miguel tries to lean in again but you’re persistent. “Mi Dior.” He mutters. “Let me kiss you.”

“But you hear me right?” You say. “No benefits at—“

Miguel swiftly leans down, kissing you. “Migu—“

“Yeah yeah, i heard you.” He says to your lips, pushing harder against your mouth.

But then you again push at his chest making him groan. “Oh come on, chaparrita, what now?”

You pause. “Two things…” And Miguel shoots you an unimpressed look. “One…” but then you pause. “Wait no, actually three.”

“Y/n—“

But you cut him off continuing. “One—I’m late. And I will not miss work because I’m too…distracted.”

“Ouch.” Miguel mockingly nods.

“Two—i have morning breath…and it’s gross—“

Now Miguel cuts you off, grabbing your cheeks, squeezing them lightly to shut you up. “Say that again, and I’ll be happy to keep you from work.”

You slightly huff, but raise your brows, silently saying ‘yeah alright’. He lets go, as you continue to speak. “And three…what does chaparrita mean?”

Miguel slightly smirks. He then reaches up and grabs your phone (that had been in the back pocket of your pants) and hands it to you. “You could just tell me.”

He raises his brows. “I don’t want you to hit me.”

That comment makes you speedily tap at your phone, putting it through translation. Throughout your typing, Miguel begins to place kisses along you neck and collarbone, stroking random parts of your body.

Then your mouth opens as you read what appeared on your screen. “Shorty?!” You exclaim, making him chuckle against your skin. “Short—I am not short. You’re just…” Miguel looks up, still amused as he meets your gaze. “…abnormally tall.” You finally say.

He tilts his head. “Now get off me or I will hit you.” You’re annoyed. You had thought that it was something a little more endearing than that. You struggle under him. “Move.”

Miguel can’t get rid of his smile as he just rests completely on top of you. “You’re heavy, get off.” You groan out. “Miguel!”

;;

You’re all standing around the mess that is HQ.

“Well…I’m sure we can repair some of thi—“ But a loud, concerning sizzle of a bursting screen makes pav stop and everyone slightly jump. “Um…” he drifts off staring at the damage.

“Yeah…nah, that’s fucked, mate.” Hobie pats Pav’s back, staring at the damage too.

“That’s not really our concern though.” Gwen starts. Some other spider-people had begun to gather (the ones not terribly injured). “They left. They got out, and we don’t know if they’ll come back.”

Miguel is standing, jaw clenched in thought. You look slightly down to see that he put your bracelet back on, cleaned it from the blood. You hold back your want to smile. Now’s really not the time, y/n—you think to yourself.

No one knows yet about you two and at this moment you wanted to keep it that way. So part of you didn’t want him wearing that bracelet. Someone could easily notice it.

As the others discuss some form of a plan, you quietly edge closer to Miguel. He shifts his gaze to you, as you keep your gaze looking around before quietly saying “You don’t have to wear that.”

At first Miguel doesn’t know what you mean, until your gaze shoots to his wrist, his soon following. He looks back up to you. “Why not?” He whispered back.

“…and lil’ lovebird back there, you got any ideas?” Hobie suddenly asks, walking closer to you both.

“Excuse me?” You say, eyes slightly widening.

“Not you…” Hobie begins. “Him.” He gestures to Miguel, who just stares back, unimpressed.

You slightly sigh in relief, only to then furrow your brows. Wait, why was Hobie calling him that?

“We go to them.” Miguel says.

“Are you insane?” One of the spider-people ask. “A lot of us almost died here. We can’t just walk right into a their base like a suicide mission.”

“And would you rather stay and wait for them?” Miguel asks raising his brows. “They’ll be back. Stronger this time. So let’s get to them while their in the process of upgrading.”

“Vulnerable.” You mutter—more so to yourself, but Miguel and few others catch it.

“Exactly.” Miguel says.

“Wait but where even are they?” Miles asks.

And Miguel gulps. He had to tell them. He’s sure a few already know. “I’ve been there.”

Everyone shifts there gazes to him. “You’ve been there?” Jess steps forward. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

“I went alone.” He says. “I had to check something.”

“Check something?” Peter asks, thankfully without Mayday today.

You take in the way Miguel’s body is tense, words seeming to get caught in his throat. Words never get caught in his throat. So you speak up. “Everyone who is willing to go, raise your hand!”

You look around to see barely anyone keen. Though you do see the hands of your friends. Always willing to defend something. “Then how about those you will actually be a part of the plan can discuss details?” You look around, you catch your friends nodding along while a few ‘i guess’s’ come from random spider variants. “Great…so how bout that office,” you point to a far door. “It doesn’t seem…blown to bits.” You nod.

Hobie’s the first to follow you, then Miles, Gwen and so on, until it’s your friends and Miguel in the office. You meet Miguel’s gaze and see something similar to…gratitude? You had to get used to these displays of emotion.

You shift your gaze, coughing. “Sorry, carry on.” You gesture somewhat to Miguel.

“…thanks.” He says, still staring at you.

Hobie spares Pav a look, silently saying ‘told ya’. Because Miguel never ‘thanks’ anyone. It’s usually just a nod or something along those lines. Pav nods, his eyes shooting back to you and Miguel.

“Miguel, why did you go to their base alone?” Jess asks, crossing her arms.

“Because they took something of mine.” Miguel answers.

‘Took something’. You remember the night Miguel was unbelievably stressed. He had said ‘I let them take it’.

“Take what?” Gwen asks.

“The enhancing form of rapture.” Miguel answers.

“An…enhancing serum…” Pav says in slight confusion, drifting off.

“I thought I could get it back.” Miguel continues. “But it seems they already used some.”

Then it clicks. The ‘masked man’ Miguel was staring at must have taken the serum. That’s why his hits seemed so much more painful to watch. His strength was enhanced.

“Wait, Miguel why were you taking that?” Peter asks, brows furrowed.

“Because you know that fun little thing called a ‘spider-sense’?” Miguel rhetorically asks. “Yeah, I don’t have that.”

You shift your gaze to Miguel. You hadn’t known that. You had always thought that he had the same abilities as the others, just…with extra claws and fangs. Miguel meets your gaze. And strangely he felt slightly nervous. He didn’t want you to think any less of him because he technically only had 50% of spider DNA in him.

“So, you wanted to enhance your strengths, to help with your lack of abilities?” Jess asks.

“That’s a nice way to put it, Jess.” Miguel spoke with a straight face, shifting his gaze to her.

“Okay, so wha’?” Hobie asks. “They stole ya serum, boosted themselves up?”

“There’s more.” Miguel says.

“Oh.” Hobie nods, pretending to look pleased.

“When I went to their…base, better word would be lab…I saw a lot more than just the serum.” Miguel is saying, everyone’s heads turned to him. “They were making something. With the rapture. As an additive.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Miles comments.

“You don’t think so?” Miguel snarks back, making poor Miles close his mouth.

Your brows furrow. Why Miguel had started to have beef with this kid you’d love to know.

“So the plan is to go find what they’re creating and…destroy it?” Gwen asks, partially to Miguel, partially to everyone.

“Sounds good t’ me.” Hobie smirks. “Are we workin’ in pairs? Cause I’ll take miss democrat over ‘ere.” Hobie links his arm around your shoulder, pulling you to him. You notice his small jab at you being democratic back when you asked everyone to raise their hands.

You slightly shove his side, as Miguel speaks. “Destroying whatever it is will hopefully weaken them, enough so we can kill…if they haven’t taken it already.” Miguel shifts his gaze to Hobie. “And yes, pairs would work best.” He then shifts his gaze to you. “Weak human, you’re with me.” He turns opening up a portal.

You scoff, narrowing your eyes on his back. But you step forward, hearing a faint mumble from Hobie. “Lovesick partner taker.”

;;

You’ve all split up, having arrived at the creepy looking lab. Gwen and Miles. Hobie and Pav. Peter and Jess, and of course…you and Miguel.

“Thanks, by the way,” you whisper to him as you both slowly step along a desolate hallway. “For letting me help.”

Miguel meets your gaze. He had yet to put on his mask. “Ah, well…I was scared you were gonna hit me otherwise.”

“Mm, glad I remain a threat.” You whisper back.

Then you hear steps, Miguel’s hand immediately coming out in front of you, as you both press yourselves against the wall. You could laugh, because right now you could picture spy music playing in the background. And Miguel being his large self would probably be the worst one.

“You’d be a terrible spy.” You whisper to him once the steps faded.

Miguel looks at you. “What?”

“A spy.” You repeat. “You’d be terrible.”

“And why is that?” Miguel’s gaze wanders the different rooms, trying to find the one he had been in before.

“You’re too…big.” You conclude, not finding a better word in the moment.

It’s then silent, both your steps filling somewhat of that silence. And when you look to Miguel, he’s clearly trying to hold down an amused grin.

Then your cheeks flush, and you look anywhere else. “Don’t you dare.” You quietly hiss.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything.” Miguel says, acting innocent.

“You better not.” You gaze around at the different rooms as well, Miguel having given you somewhat of a description.

“But if I were to—“

You swiftly cut him off, placing your hand over his mouth. You can feel him grin underneath it, as he watches you. “Shh.” You say. “You might alert the masked men that we’re here.” Then you turn and walk a little quicker down the hallway.

Miguel watches you go. “Yeah, cause I was the one talking.” He mutters.

“I heard that.” You hiss-whisper back, still scouting rooms. Majority empty and abandoned.

Miguel scoffs, continuing his search as well.

;;

Somewhere on the opposite side of the building, Hobie and Pav are quietly talking as well. “So do you think they’ve…” Pav raises his brows at Hobie.

“How ‘bout ya ask ‘em when we see ‘em next.” Hobie raises his brows too, doing that little side smile, as he tilts his head, his hands moving to his pockets.

“Oh, I’m not asking that.” Pav quickly says.

“Oh come on, bro,” Hobie hits Pav’s shoulder.

“No.” Pav shakes his head, eyeing rooms.

“How ‘bout,” Hobie begins. “…last one to reach the room has to ask?”

Pav gives Hobie one glance, before they’re both webbing away quickly—in search of the room.

;;

“There.” Miguel gestures to a doorway with light flooding out, as he slips his mask on. You both creep forward, moving to peep in. You can hear voices, harsh and angry.

“Did you manage to kill any?!”

“A-a few.” A more timid voice says.

“A-a few?” The previous guy mockingly repeats.“That’s not fucking good enough!” There’s a smash, as the sound of a fist hitting a nose follows.

Miguel’s head is focused forward, his claws extending. “I want them dead! All of them! They don’t have a right to be controlling the multiverse like this!”

“I-I know.” The guy chokes.

You can’t see anything yet, moving any closer would make you both visible. But luckily sound seemed to be enough for now.

“Do you? Do you really? Because Miguel O’hara is still alive. I thought you took his rapture?” The guy grits out.

“I did. But maybe…he has more…back up rapture.”

“‘Back up rapture’? Do you hear how stupid you sound?” Another punch. “They don’t deserve to be controlling anything, those bastard spiders think that just because their DNA is different they have the right?! No no.” What sounds to be a slap follows.

Miguel is edging closer, fraction by fraction. “I’ll show them what different DNA looks like…” the guy then speaks slowly, lowering his voice. “Yeah…” he chuckles.

Different DNA… The rapture being an additive now makes sense. It changes your DNA. And whatever other stuff they added must be mix of enhancers and straight up drugs. All for the cause to become powerful. He wanted control. Utter control. And he was going to kill anyone to get there. To put it simply he wanted to take Miguel’s place.

“Stay here.” Miguel whispers. And in this moment you knew your help wasn’t needed. You weren’t stupid, knowing that you’d just get in the middle of things. And right now you were okay with that. When the time came where you could help, you would. And that was something that made you almost feel…settled—a little more sure of yourself.

You nod, ushering for him to go. He then shoots his web out, pulling the timid guy away from getting punched again, as he shot another web at the meaner guys face. But the guy is quick to rip the web away, his strength clearly enhanced. Shit…he took it.

The rest soon became a mix of smashing glass, bruises, blood, and evil cackles that you’re sure the guy copied from the Green Goblin.

He may despise spider-people, thinking he’s above them, but he seems to be acting just like every villain who thought the same. Their fate didn’t end so well.

The guy being enhanced is most definitely making it hard for Miguel. You glance around the somewhat empty hallway, hearing and spotting something outside the far window. You quickly step closer, worried it may be a masked man.

And you’re…somewhat right. Because there are masked men, but there is also your friends. Fighting. And maybe now you are wondering if you should have come at all. But then you slip your hand into your pocket, bringing out the small switch device that you had kept.

You had tampered with it, trying to get it to work against its owners. And you aren’t even sure if it does work. But what really is there to loose?

You re-poked certain wires, the job not amazingly done, but hopefully good enough. You can hear shouts and heavy feet, punches and falling bodies.

And then you push the switch, hearing the whirring. The falling bodies, punches, heavy feet, and shouting are still audible at first. And you think maybe it didn’t work.

But when you look back out the window you see that it’s the masked men who are the bodies that are falling, the punches being directed by your friends. It had worked. The little machine messed with masked men’s’ DNA.

After a while of making sure that it’s working, you quickly rush back to the doorway to where Miguel and the other guy’s fight began, and you’re relieved to see that Miguel is holding him up by his neck.

The guy is babbling trying to get free. He looks confused, as if wondering where all his strength had gone. You couldn’t help but let a small smile edge your lips.

Miguel tightens his hold until the guys face turns purple, finally his struggles ceasing. Miguel let’s him drop to the ground, breathing hard. And as he takes his mask off—to breathe easier—he meets your gaze and notices the switch in your grasp.

Then someone is running quickly into the room, past you. Pav. He’s breathing hard, as he then jumps and cheers. “Ha!” He exclaims to someone behind you.

You turn seeing Hobie coming to a halt, huffing. “Nah, mate, ya cheated.”

Pav grins, his cheek a little cut up, but seemingly still ecstatic. You shift your gaze to Gwen, Miles, Peter and Jess who all arrive by the doorway as well.

Peter then nods, looking around. “Did we do it?”

“Hell yeah we did!” Miles hoots, slapping a high five to Peter’s hand. Peter moves his hand to offer Jess a high-five. She raises her brows and Peter is quick to put his hand away.

You breath in relief. Everyone is fine, nobody died…and you have no idea how your little invention worked.

;;

You’re all walking outside the lab, wanting to know exactly where it is. It’s a rundown Alchemax scientific building, obviously on much quieter universe.

“Isn’t that y/n’s bracelet?” Gwen suddenly asks, looking down at Miguel’s wrist. You freeze.

Miguel glances down at it too, but before he can say anything you quickly speak. “No.” Heads turn to you.

“I-uh…mine looks different.” You nod.

Now Miguel turns to you, brows raised. “Does it?”

You narrow your eyes on him. “Yes. Very different.”

“It looks pretty similar to me...” Pav says, making you press your lips together.

“And when were you looking at my wrist for that long to know that?” You ask Pav.

“I mean your hands are always up and tapping at keyboards.” Gwen says. Damn it.

Now there was nothing inherently wrong with what has happened between you and Miguel. No. You just felt…strange telling everyone, the situation basically being at work.

“It is her bracelet.” Miguel suddenly says, twisting it in circles around his wrist. All heads shoot to him, yours too.

“It is?” You ask, eyes really narrowing in on him.

“Mhm.” Miguel looks back at you, looking almost smug. His web “subtly” shoots out, attaching to your side, and pulling you towards him.

And you sigh, because everyone seems to catch on rather quickly after that.

All their expressions are different. And you’d laugh if you weren’t so flushed and nervous.

Gwen is staring, just blinking. Miles’ eyes are flicking between the two of you, wondering how you (the sweet, nice, funny girl) got with him (Miguel…enough’s said there).

Jess seems rather unbothered by the whole ordeal while Peter’s mouth is nearly dropped to the floor. And Pav is holding back an amused smile, almost nodding with approval.

“So, ‘av you two banged yet?” Someone suddenly asks, making your eyes widen. And you know exactly who the culprit is…

“Hobie!”

pls nobody ask me how the bloody switch works OKAY?! It just does!

but oh my god. it’s here. the finale of ‘el trato (the deal)’. thank you all so so so much for all the support and love you’ve given this series — actually crying

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macfrog · 4 months

Text

sweet child o' mine | pt. ii

hi. this is max's lawyer speaking. please don't get mad at her for this part. she asked me to let you know that she loves you all and hopes that you trust her. sincerely, jimmy mcgill

pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader

summary: you're pregnant with joel miller's kid. he's dating someone else. you deal with it.

warnings: reader is literally pregnant so typical pregnancy stuff like nausea (none of the v word, y'all are safe with me), ultrasound scene set in a hospital, anxiety and guilt surrounding pregnancy, description of body change/growth, brief and i mean brief discussion of abortion, joel is dating someone who isn't reader, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), reader has no physical description save for hair, cursing, genderless use of buddy when referring to baby, joel kisses someone who is not his partner, mention of alcohol, disturbing & semi-graphic nightmare about being involved in car accident, reader has a panic attack, discussion of dead parents, fluff and the beginnings of angst DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there's ever anything you feel i've missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.

word count: 9.2k

pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵

“I know, I know,” Joel holds a palm up, “it’s nine thirty. I know. But I had to lug all this wood over here, and it – You okay?”

You realize when he pauses that you’re gaping at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place behind your front door. Your jaw hinges shut, a gulp like carpet burn down your throat. You didn’t hear a word he just said.

How does he know? He can’t possibly. Did he sense it, from two lawns away? Dream about the binding of cells, the furnace left lit in your body from that night? The embers still floating, just waiting to catch to life again?

Did he do the fucking math, the way you probably should’ve? How does he fucking know?

The minute the question leaves your mouth, you regret it.

Joel’s eyebrows drop. “How did I know what, kid? That you need new closets? Like you ain’t been nipping my ear about ‘em for weeks?”

Your eyes unlock from his and shift to the slats of wood leaning against the balustrade. The toolbox hanging from his fist. The worn jeans and the white dust marks on his thighs. He doesn’t fucking know, you idiot.

Joel steps forward. Takes your wrist. One grounding, steady hand around your thrashing pulse. “You’re freaking me out. What the hell’s –?”

“Nothing,” you chirp, remembering. The closet. The deal. The fucking – the deal. You withdraw your arm. Hidden up your sleeve, quickly slipping out of his grasp, is the news that his life is about to change forever.

Maybe. You don’t fucking know.

“No,” you continue, blinking the burn of sunlight from your vision, “I just – I forgot. Sorry. Come in. Sorry.”

“Quit sayin’ sorry,” he mutters, eyeing you suspiciously. He lifts a foot and hovers it over the threshold, hesitating. Like the first step across a minefield; instinct telling him to tread carefully.

And you swear an oath to yourself, swear it on your own life: if he doesn’t put the heel of his boot in your hallway, if he turns around right now whether because his instinct is razor sharp, or because he forgot his lucky screwdriver, or purely because he needs to take a fucking leak before he gets started – you will never tell him. He will never know.

If his intuition is that good, he’ll turn around and never show up on your porch again. If he has any sense, he’ll forget any of this ever happened. Deal off.

“How’s the stomach?” Joel asks, sole still three inches from wood.

“What?” you bleat, your heel knocking against the bottom stair. It’s a little more panicked than you intended.

“Yesterday,” a crease forms between his brows, “you said you had a weird stomach. That any better?”

Oh, you think, and as you open your mouth to reply, his foot hits the ground. No answer needed. He was coming in whether you tried to deter him or not.

“Oh, yeah. It’s – Well, it’s better than it was. I think I worked it out,” you grimace, tongue curling under the tinge of anxiety and – well. “Thanks,” you add, noticing the brisk cut of your replies.

The heavy thud of his footsteps follows you upstairs, blunt on the carpet as you lead him up. Joel sets the toolbox down and casts your room a quick glance, snapping back to you as soon as you notice him.

You tug on the corner of the bedsheets, a heat bubbling beneath your cheeks. Something shy and self-conscious, all of a sudden. The reality that you don’t feel close enough to this man to share the anatomy of your room with him, mixed with the knowledge that the two of you are, now and forever, bound by the anatomy of something a little more significant than dirty laundry and dusty wardrobes.

A little closer than most humans get, let’s say.

“You want a coffee or something?” you ask, crossing your arms and leaning back against the window sill.

“You havin’ one?”

“Sure. Wait – actually –” Can you have coffee whilst pregnant? A woman at work quit it altogether when she fell pregnant with her son. Fuck. “I’m – No. I’m good. But let me go make you one.”

Joel shakes his head, amused. Screwdriver burrowing into a door hinge already. He flashes you a tickled grin. “I’m good just now, kid. Wait until you’re makin’ one. Thanks.”

You lift a shoulder. “Welcome.”

His eyes flit from the twist of silver to your hunched shoulders, your arms crossed protectively over your chest. “You gonna stand there ‘n watch me all day? You my foreman now?”

“Sure,” you reply, and he laughs. You sniff, twisting your foot into the carpet. The plastic test itches against your skin; you can feel the two lines ripping into your wrist like tiny burns. “I can go, if you want.”

His lip turns, musing. A quick flick of his jaw. “You’re good company, all in all.”

Metal clanking against metal; fingers knuckle-deep in the toolbox. You can hear the harsh sound across your body, like the point of screws and bite of rust are actually scoring your skin. The groan of a near-fifty-year-old man rising to rip a decades-old door from its home. The creak of wood as it splits.

Everything so heightened that it’s actually painful.

Joel straightens up and pauses, turning his screwdriver between his fingers. “Are we –? We’re good, right?”

“Good?”

“Yeah. You’d tell me if things were weird?”

“Why would things be weird?”

His answer scrawls itself across his face. Your response scoffs from your lips.

“I just,” Joel sighs, “I feel like something might be off with ya. Maybe you just ain’t feelin’ too hot. But you’re quiet.”

“Quiet,” you whisper, palms locking heavily against your biceps. More defensive than convincing.

“Yeah. You usually annoy the hell outta me.”

Over your shoulder, Alice Brown waddles down her driveway, eyeing her flowerbeds. She pauses when Diane’s station wagon pulls up across the street; stands motionless as she watches the round figure climb out and totter to her own front door.

“Just – not in a very annoying mood, I guess,” you offer, staring at the white head of hair fluttering in the breeze. The glint of a trowel in her hand.

Joel’s chin lifts. He studies you, tongue tracing the ridges of his teeth. And then he’s nearing you, turning until you’re shoulder to shoulder, two silhouettes stood against the bright square of blue sky inside your window frame. His arms crossed; his stare fixed.

The words begin to boil in your stomach. Violent bubbles against the wall of your midriff. Rising like steam, fading into nothingness over your tongue, the sting of heat where your voice won’t collect them.

Joel moves from foot to foot. It feels like some kind of merry dance, some choreographed moment between you – like a skit in a comedy show. I know something you don’t know.

“What happened – at the wedding,” he murmurs, addressing the polished gold of your bedframe.

Some small sound passes your lips. An affirmative. You’re on the same page.

“We didn’t use – you know. And with you not feelin’ well, it’s…” A deep breath. Chest full of a ghostly bravery. And then he asks, “Are you –?”

Silence swallows the end of his question whole. You didn’t need it, anyway. The stiffness of his frame, his stare shooting straight ahead. The lack of oxygen between you – both holding your breath for fear that something might tear loose from your lungs. He knows. He knows he knows he knows.

You gulp. “…If I was?”

His head cranes upwards, focusing on the cracked plaster of your ceiling. The realization slowly trickling down over his skin. It hasn’t seeped through, hasn’t bled into his brain yet. “Then,” another breath, “then it’d be a conversation…” His voice is halved, split somewhere between knowing and – what is it? Hoping?

Your eyes slip over to the worn sleeve of his T-shirt, stretched around the swell of his bicep; scaling up to his shoulder, the tight set of his jaw. He’s so much taller, he’s so much older. There’s so much life lived and so many lessons learned behind his eyes that you wonder how much the news I’m pregnant would actually crack him.

Your eyes meet. You whisper, “Then – talk,” and his expression softens.

He blinks away whatever’s left of his trying, his polite attempts to skirt around it. He sheds probably a good three decades – turns back into some doe-eyed boy, wonderstruck and terrified. His voice is quiet, and at the same time, the heaviest with emotion you’ve ever heard it. “Are you?” he asks, and immediately, he blurs behind a wall of tears.

Your sentence gets caught in your teeth. It made no sense to begin with. Tangled between your molars, latching at the back of your tongue. Your hand slowly pulls free from your sleeve, the little white test between your fingers.

Joel’s eyes instantly drop, staring at the pale stick with a fraught expression you understand to mean the message has finally reached his brain. The same words now ringing between his ears: She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant. I got her pregnant.

You hold the test out, quivering in the daylight. He takes it in his thumbs, instantly soothing its tremble. Everything muted, every movement steady and considered. And suddenly the sight of that positive test feels less scary, in his hands. Feels like a smaller problem, if that were ever possible.

And he says nothing, and it’s almost unbearable to watch the shape of his lips thin, the shadow beneath his brows darken. Agonizing to stand here and wonder what the next words over his tongue will be.

He stares at it a moment longer. You count the beats of your pulse in your throat. You wrap your arms tighter around your body, holding your skeleton together.

Joel’s lips part. Your breath freezes. Whatever he says, you don’t want to miss a syllable.

“Are you –” he blinks, “– are you feelin’ okay?”

You stare blankly. His eyes finally lift.

“What?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

Your head jerks. “I’m – I’m fine. I mean, I’m fucking shocked.”

He nods. “How long have you known?”

“Took that right before you showed up,” you say, eyes diving to his hands. “Twenty minutes, maybe.”

He’s still switching between you and the test. Checking those two lines are still there, as if they might fade to nothing, and then checking you’re still there – as if you might, too. Might be swept off if he’s not keeping an eye on you.

His face pales. He sinks back against the window ledge. “Jesus,” he breathes, a hand down the scruff of his chin.

And it feels like relief, like a mirror sat before you, presenting the honest truth: you’re fucked, and Joel thinks so, too. It embeds the shock into the cushion of your brain, the weight of it absorbed and laid bare for every particle in your body to pay it a visit. What the fuck do we do now?

“Yeah,” you sniff, “Jesus.”

But then his arm wraps around your shoulder, reminding you you’re still solid. Still whole. He holds you to his side, and when you turn into him, he takes you in the other and pulls you flat against his chest. His lips to your hair. His breathing slowing yours.

“We’re gonna work it out,” he says into your hair. “We’re gonna – Jesus, I did not expect…We are goin’ to be fine, alright? You are goin’ to be fine.”

You’re nodding, the prickle of tears flooding across your eyes again. They’re doing nothing, his words – blunt against your skin and insignificant to the fear swelling around your heart – but it feels better to be afraid with someone. Feels better to hold onto something stronger, something bigger, while you feel yourself beginning to shrink.

“What do we do?” you ask into his shirt.

Joel loosens his grip, pulls away until you’re staring at one another. “What do you wanna do?”

“I don’t…” Your head’s shaking, lips moving quicker than your voice will offer the words over. “I don’t think I want to get rid of it.”

He nods, a hand coming up to hold your cheek. “Alright. Then you don’t have to. You don’t gotta do anythin’ you’re not comfortable with.”

“But,” you sniff, guiltily averting his gaze, “this fucks everything up. Everything’s about to change.”

Joel takes a long, slow breath. “It complicates some things, that’s for sure.” He looks out to the street; Alice Brown now hauling weeds from the edge of her lawn. In his exhale, he breathes a name.

“V…What?”

He looks down. Eyes dance around your damp cheeks. “Vanessa,” he says, clearer now.

“Vanessa?”

A nod. His nose wriggles with an awkward sniff. You push off from his chest.

“Who the hell is Vanessa?”

Joel lets you go; lets you step back. He watches as you brace yourself against the ledge. Runs a hand through his hair while he fixes the right order of words. He’s thinking. Carefully.

Too fucking carefully. He’s taking too long.

“Joel. Who’s Vanessa?”

“She’s…” He sighs. “She’s my ex. From Tommy’s wedding. Vanessa Hart.”

Your jaw slackens. The purple dress. The hair like silk, a halo around her head where the light kissed her perfectly. Her plump lips; the way her head tipped back to laugh. The amount of air you felt her take up the second you laid eyes on her, the second you saw her, arm on top of Joel’s.

“Vanessa,” you whisper, your eyes descending his frame. The memory feels menacing now: her sweet giggle a sneering cackle, and you’ve no idea why. The bulky jewels around her neck, her clawed fingers on his arm.

Joel’s hand sits inches from yours on the wooden sill. Alice is walking back inside.

“We, uh…we swapped numbers the morning after the wedding, at breakfast. I didn’t think much of it, but we’ve seen each other a couple times since.”

This isn’t the time for another it’s a date, it’s not a date argument. What the fuck does he mean by –

“Seen each other?”

“Mhm.” He owes you better than that. He reckons so, too. “Dates,” he clarifies. “We’ve been on a couple dates.”

“Oh.”

Your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. Plummets, dragging with it your breath and your nerve and any other words you can think of. Your chest gnaws at the edges of the cavity left behind. It hurts. It stings.

Though you’ve no right for it to hurt or sting: as far as you were concerned, as far as you think Joel was concerned, that night was a one-off. It meant as little as the alcohol draining from your glasses, the vacant buzz of love and hope loose in the air. Equally as intoxicating as each other.

Cataclysmic, for the first little while. So heavily awkward that you would wait to watch Joel head out in the morning, clear of your path, before you’d set off for work. It felt like the aftermath of some natural disaster – the cleanup of debris and mistake.

But oh, it feels like a punch to the gut. Low, unexpected; a foul move by someone who never meant to hurt or not hurt you. Someone ignorant to every move he made, right up to this moment.

Your arms wrap around your body again, as though tending to the bruise left by the sucker punch shaped something like that tall woman named Vanessa.

Joel scratches the back of his neck. “We were…we were seein’ about starting things up again. Me ‘n her.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “I got you. That’s – I mean, I’m – I’m sorry, Joel, I –”

“Woah, woah,” he’s stepping forward now, “hey, no. No way. This wasn’t you. Well, shoot – it kinda was you. But it was just as much me, right?”

You smile, your face back in the safe hold of his hands. Tears roll down your cheeks, collecting in the corners of your mouth. His thumbs swipe them away.

“This was just as much me,” he repeats, voice soft and soothing.

“But, you know – if you wanted to – just ‘cause I don’t want to get – so if you didn’t wanna have to – that’d be okay, you know that, right?”

His head snaps back, brows low. It’s the first time he looks like his cool has broken all morning. It’s the first time he looks…downright offended. “Are you kidding me?” he asks, and then, “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I just – I know this ain’t ideal. It’s even worse if you’re tryna make it work with Vanessa. So if you felt like it was too much, then…”

Joel shakes his head. “Shut up,” he says, edged with some kind of groan. “Stop talking, right now. Stop. You gotta take a deep breath, alright? I’m here, ‘n I mean I’m here. We’re in this together. I am not running out on you.”

“Joel –”

What was a mere crack in his cool before, rips through it now like lightning spreading across the sky. He closes his eyes, a sigh escaping between his teeth. “If you think I would leave you right now, to deal with this on your own –”

“I don’t,” you tell him, his vexation powering your sudden animation. You wipe your tears away, shaking your head. “I’m just saying, it’s a fucking lot. I don’t want you to feel trapped. I’m giving you an out, man.”

“I am not interested in taking it. Enough. Conversation over.”

“And what about Vanessa?”

“What about her?” he asks, the question dripping in something akin to anger. He catches himself, draws it back in. “She’ll just – We’ll talk, I’ll explain it. The hell else can we do? One thing at a time, okay?”

“Right,” you nod, “okay. One thing at a time.”

“Let’s just build these damn wardrobes. I sure as hell didn’t lug all that timber over here to not do ‘em.”

“Okay,” you repeat, making for the door.

“Ah.” He clicks, and you turn back. “Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?”

“To get the timber.”

“I don’t think so,” he says, pointing to your bed. “Sit down. Relax. You ain’t getting a damn thing.”

Joel calls it a day at six o’clock.

The skeleton of the closet is up: a smooth, tan frame lining one wall of your room. Much bigger, much sturdier than its predecessor.

You’re in the same spot he left you in: lying across your bed, admiring his handiwork. He’s good at what he does. You told him twice, and the two of you almost heaved both times. Compliments aren’t something you’re used to handing one another.

He left, maybe, three hours ago. Said he had to shower; said he’d be back first thing to finish the job. You sat up to see him out, got struck by a wave of nausea so bad that you fell back to the bed with one hand on your stomach and the other over your lips, and Joel had insisted – demanded – that you stay where you were.

I’ll be back later to check on ya, he assured, setting a glass of water at your bedside. And then he told you to call him if you felt even remotely off – sick, or panicked, or had a tickle in your throat that you couldn’t clear – and that’s when the two of you realized that you don’t even have one another’s numbers.

And you laughed, the both of you; laughed at the absurdity of you carrying his child when you don’t even carry his contact details in your phone. Laughed at how quickly everything has turned one hundred and eighty degrees in the few hours since you woke up. It felt like some form of release, the only way to clear the blockage of tension in both your throats. So, you laughed, until you felt sick again, and Joel swept the hair from your shoulders to cool you down.

The attentiveness is…new. It’s interesting. It’s kind, in the same way that being told to say hi to whoever your grandma is talking to in the grocery store, is kind. Sweet, the same way that answering the door on Halloween to a bunch of kids you don’t know from a street you don’t recognize the name of, is sweet.

Whatever. It’s fucking weird, alright?

You’ve never seen this side of Joel. You didn’t know or even think, in your wildest dreams, that he existed. Let’s face it: you two have spent the entirety of your inhabitance next door to one another, antagonizing each other. Your favorite hobby has always been pissing Joel off – teasing him for having backache, seeing how far down his porch you can launch his newspaper and he’ll still go get it. Playing the same kind of music you heard him playing on his guitar that one time, full-volume from your kitchen window just to fuck with him.

And, likewise: his favorite hobby has always been…well, ignoring you. Doing everything he can not to engage. If it weren’t for that fucking cat lady and her jittery green Chevrolet, none of this would’ve ever happened. She was a catalyst where one was neither needed nor wanted. You would’ve gone about your life, pinning your underwear only slightly more carefully to your clothesline, and Joel would’ve gone about his, doing – whatever the fuck he does.

Sure, it’s weird. But it’s nice. It’s nice to have him on your side, turning to check on you rather than snap at you for something. Nice to have him talk – actual, rounded words in place of grumbles and mumbles and groans and sighs. Nice to hang out with him and watch him work and ask questions about screws and power tools and pretend to be interested just to distract from the weight of queasiness in your stomach.

Your hands trail down, cupping around your navel. Your stomach still feels like your stomach: still soft, still spongey under your touch. If not for the two more tests you’d taken this afternoon, perched on the bathroom counter waiting for Joel to unstick his gaze from his watch and announce, That’s three minutes – both also positive, by the way – you’d have no fucking clue.

You hold the bottom half of your tummy, fingers rubbing gently over the skin that will soon enough grow and swell and protect.

“Hey,” you whisper, staring at the stationary ceiling fan overhead. A pause. An awkward inhale. “…hey, little buddy. I don’t – know you very well, yet. I figure you can’t even fucking hear me, but whatever. Just wanted to say hi. I’m – Ew, no. I’m not Mom, yet. What the fuck. I don’t know who I am right now, so just…maybe go easy on me until I figure that part out. And after, too. Alright? Are we…we cool?

“You can’t tell me, I know. I just have to assume we’re cool. Okay. Well. Keep growin’. Keep…doing your thing. You’re doing great. We’re doing – we’re doing alright.

“Good job, kid. Good job.”

Joel tells Vanessa two days later. She takes it…about as well as you might hope.

He says they talked for four hours. Three cups of coffee and a drive to Taco Bell later, she agreed to meet you. Properly. Not across the cluttered dancefloor of Tommy’s wedding.

She –? Is – is that a good idea?

I don’t know, kid. It’s the best I’ve got.

Meet me? Like, come kick my ass for sleeping with her boyfriend?

Joel had sighed and deadened his eyes on yours. Not her boyfriend, he corrected, passing you a sweater folded a little slapdash for your liking, and wasn’t her boyfriend when we slept together.

You shook the sweater straight again and fixed his work, muttering to yourself that at least he’s a better builder than he is a folder.

Joel heard you, and let it go. Passed you another – unfolded – sweater to sit in your wardrobe. Let’s just see how it goes, alright?

Alright.

We’re really trying this again. It’s only been a couple weeks.

Okay.

And neither of us have had much luck in that department since we broke it off, y’know?

Joel. I said okay.

He held your gaze a moment too long. Okay.

You’re on your porch when he strolls over, wrist blocking the six o’clock sun from his eyes. Newspaper in his fist, wind licking the corners. “Forget somethin’ today?” he asks, meeting you at the top of the steps.

“Came out to get it,” you brace yourself on the railing, “felt sick. This is me workin’ up to it.”

“You want me to toss it back onto my lawn so you can go fetch me it?”

You smile, eyes screwing shut. “Was coming over to ask what time for tomorrow.”

The reminder snaps him from his happy daydream. He says, “I was comin’ to ask you the same thing. Seven work?”

“Seven’s good. Are we getting food?”

“You wanna get food? I figured maybe you wouldn’t be up for it, what with the, uh…” Joel gestures to your hunched position, your head low between your shoulders, your deep, deliberate breaths.

“Maybe just drinks,” you utter, gulping back the sharp taste of bile.

He nods. “Drinks it is. You okay? You need anything?”

“I’m good. Thanks. See you guys at seven.”

Four minutes early, there’s a knock at your door. You pull it open, and there they are. Picture-perfect, like they might be posing for a holiday card. A bottle in his arm, a bunch of flowers in hers. A timid but genial smile between her cheeks, a twinkle in her eye. That same circle of shining light around her head, brunette tresses curled into bouncing waves.

“Howdy,” Joel says, stepping into the space you create. He dips his head, kisses your cheek, whispers a brief, Y’okay? in your ear. You nod quickly, gently shifting him out of the way.

Vanessa lingers for a moment in the doorway. She glances from Joel to you again, blinking in the porch light. Her pale skin lit in an ethereal glow. She’s prettier up close.

Joel addresses you, hand brushing the small of your back, “…this is Vanessa.”

“Hi,” she says, and pushes the flowers towards you – a small bouquet of gypsophila and eucalyptus. Bright, polite. Each sprig laden with the burden of appearing simpatico, but important. Meaningful, in the airiest sense of the word. “Hi,” again.

“Hi,” you echo, and then feel stupid for having nothing more to offer. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you, hot on your shoulder.

But Vanessa takes the weight from your chest. “It’s nice to meet you – officially. I saw you at Tommy and Maria’s wedding. You looked so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” springs from your tongue sooner than the rest of the sentence. Your brain scrams to find more words. “You looked – you looked great, too. Do you wanna –? I mean – Sorry. Come in. Obviously.”

She clicks over the threshold, her pale dress floating into your hallway like she’s part of a dream. She’s just as beautiful in this light, relaxed form – pastel blue and the glimmer of golden jewelry – as she was in the sleeker, more dramatic form you saw her in before. An aura about her which captures and tends to your attention. Intense, captivating, but not intimidating.

You usher them to the living room, offer them a space on the couch while you take Vanessa’s flowers to the kitchen. Joel follows you through, sets the bottle on the counter.

“Nonalcoholic,” he says, unscrewing the cap.

Your eyebrows jump. “Great. Thanks.”

“She’s nervous,” he murmurs, leaning in. “I know you are, too. Y’all are similar like that.”

You slot the stems into a vase of water one by one, carefully organizing a display. “She seems sweet,” you assure him. “She shouldn’t be nervous.”

“Neither should you.”

“Is this…totally weird for you?”

Joel breathes in deep, filling three glasses. “Yeah,” he says, eyes never lifting from the sparkling peach.

“Sorry.”

He angles his jaw. “Stop sayin’ you're sorry. I’ll kick your ass.”

Your head drops between your shoulders, eyes lifting only to his elbows. “Sorry.”

He scoffs, swiping the glasses and stepping back to let you out first.

“I’m trying not to make it weird,” you offer, slipping by.

“I don’t want you to try anything.” He kicks your ankle lightly and follows you back into the living room.

Vanessa sits forward and clasps her hands around her knee when you sit back down, shifting as though to reach for you before she stops herself. “How are you feeling? Joel said you’re a little…worse for wear, right now.”

“I’ve been better,” you say, smiling. “Just morning sickness. Which lasts – all day.”

She nods sympathetically. “My sister had it rough with her first. I actually…” She twists around, reaches for her purse, fishes out an orange packet. “I brought you some ginger tea. Kate told me it helped her a lot, so.”

She holds it out in almost trembling fingers. Likewise, you steady yours to take it from her, thanking her with a shy nod of the head. “That’s so kind,” you reply quietly, eyes darting to Joel. He’s staring at the pack in your hands, watching as you turn it over to read the back.

“And – listen,” Vanessa continues, the acceptance of her offering clearly fueling her assuredness, “I don’t want anything to be weird – between you and I, between you and Joel. I know this situation is…new. It’s, um…”

“It’s kinda weird,” you say, humoring. “It’s okay. I know.”

She breathes a relieved laugh. “It is. Thank God you said it.” She glances back at Joel, who smiles at her, slips his hand onto her knee. “But I guess,” a deep breath, “I guess it is what it is. And we’re all adults, you know? We can make it work, right?”

Your head switches rapidly between nodding enthusiastically and shaking enthusiastically. “Yeah. Yes. No, absolutely. And, you know, me and Joel – there isn’t – we’re not at all…”

“Oh,” she bats the idea away, “I know. I know that. He told me everything. It’s – You know, it’s just a timing thing.”

Joel’s staring down at his hand locked around her leg. Unblinking. Unmoving. His expression doesn’t shift until the two of you settle back into your seats; until Vanessa asks if he’d mind making you a cup of ginger tea.

You barely notice his absence, the way she takes you up in conversation. Like twirling you off in some kind of dance, each sentence strung safely to the next. There are no lulls, no awkward pauses. She asks about work, asks about your family. She tells you stories about her niece, who’s three now, and compares how you’re feeling to how she remembers her sister feeling.

Then her work, and the IT guy her friend hooked up with, and her class at the gym which she’s trying to convince Joel to come along to, and Kate’s hot yoga class every Thursday night, and the new sushi place which just opened downtown and You gotta try it some day; the nigiri is divine.

And you nod along, and you laugh at her anecdotes and tell your own, and Joel tells her to tell you about the jazz band who were playing at the restaurant they visited a couple weeks ago, and you offer to top her drink up and she says she’ll do it herself and she leaves you and Joel alone for the first time all evening, and – it’s weird.

Because – behind the veil of conversation you’re doing your best to uphold, sits an image of this very night – only, in Joel’s house. In Joel’s house, on Joel’s couch, drinking nonalcoholic wine with Joel’s brother. Joel and Vanessa leant against one another on one couch, Tommy and Maria on the other.

You can’t help it – you’re wondering what Maria thinks of Vanessa. How long they knew each other, if at all, before the breakup. Whether they hung out, whether they discussed sushi and yoga, or the housing market, or their Miller boyfriends and their annoying Miller habits.

Maria would’ve liked her, you think. Would’ve found her as lovely as you do. And the idea, the image of them giggling together at family parties and being Tommy’s Maria and Joel’s Vanessa – presses a firm, bullying finger into the bruise you thought had faded some from the other day.

And once they’re gone, once you’re left alone again – lying in still silence, closed in on yourself by the thick darkness of your room, nothing but you and your thoughts and your unborn child for company – it slips out.

“Fuck her, right?” You hold your hands out, addressing your stomach. “She was so fucking nice. Did you like her? Fuck me, I liked her. I hope they break up.”

And then, realizing who you’re talking to: “No. Sorry, baby, no. I don’t hope they break up. I want your dad to be really happy. But – Goddamn. She was so sweet. I thought she was gonna slap me, and she just – she brought ginger tea! Fuck. They look good together, don’t they?”

It’s just hormones. Just the emotional trip that is being four weeks pregnant. Everybody feels like this when they fall pregnant – sensitive, vulnerable, clingy. Right? Right?

Your words sit stagnant in midair. You swear you can see them, heavy and intruding. Awkwardly lingering someplace they don’t belong. Because none of it even matters – the hormones, the emotions. The weird knot burning a hole in your chest, shaped like a clenched fist, knuckles branded by the heat of longing. It can’t matter.

You’re where you are, he’s where he is. A pillow in your arm, Vanessa in his. Feet apart, bricks and mortar and something like twenty years and two dates too late separating you.

Both staring up at the ceiling, wondering who the other’s thinking of.

“At eight weeks, your baby is roughly the size of a raspberry.”

Your knee bounces, breath coming and going in shaky ripples. The rubber sole of your shoe cries against the sterilized hospital floor. Your chest hums anxiously and your throat catches when you swallow and are the lights too bright? The room too hot? You’re sweating. Why are you sweating? Can you breathe right now?

Joel nudges your arm and your eyes roll to the pamphlet in his hand, his finger tracing the words. “C’mon,” he utters, leaning in, “how can anything the size of a raspberry be scary?”

You squint under fluorescent white. “A raspberry that grows into the size of a watermelon, can break my ribs, make me throw up, make me lose hair, and then tear my vagina apart on its way out? That’s pretty scary.”

He smirks. “Not to me it ain’t. My vagina stays perfectly intact the entire time.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you reply, whacking him.

He laughs, swatting your palm away, keeping ahold of your fingers inside his own. “Speaking of – we gotta talk.” He elbows you, waiting until you’re looking again to speak. “We gotta cut the language.”

“Cut the language?”

“Uhuh. Rein it in. And by we, I mean you.”

“Uh,” you scoff, “I don’t think so. When you do the growing, then you can rein your own swearing in. Leave me alone, asshole.”

“Charming,” Joel says. “You know the baby can hear you? You want it to come out swearin’ like a trooper?”

You grin, tipping your head to him. “If it comes out and says anything, we’re rich. So – yeah. Let it.”

He opens his mouth to reply when a nurse emerges from a nearby room and calls your name.

“You’re up, kid,” Joel says, standing beside you.

You turn back, speaking before your brain settles on words. “I’m scared.”

“Hey,” he says, taking your hand. He squeezes it gently, uses the other to keep you facing him. “This is the easy part, right? We’re just going to meet them.”

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, and wander over to meet the nurse. Joel’s hand a vice grip around yours.

She leads you into a similarly washed-out clinic room, only slightly dimmer with the lights turned out, and yanks a roll of paper across the bed. Tapping it twice, she smiles. “Hop up, darlin’.”

You settle into the crinkly paper, leaning back until you’re blinking up at the speckled ceiling. Another door opens and a woman in a white coat floats in, and you swear that if it weren’t for Joel’s Evenin’, ma’am when she greets the two of you, you’d believe she were a figment of your imagination. Another character in this fucking insane dream.

“Not often I do these past five o’clock,” she says, clicking her mouse and typing on her keyboard and fixing a hair grip back into her bun. Casual. It’s not even a thing to her, introducing parents and children. She does this all fucking day.

Joel tosses half a glance to you and then realizes you’re not currently in the room. He pinches your hand again. It grounds you for all of two seconds.

“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat, “work commitment. I couldn’t get away any earlier, so we’re havin’ to do this a little late.”

“What do you do?” she asks, staring at her screen. Her glossy brown eyes and rich, dark skin.

“I’m a contractor,” Joel replies, thumb stroking your shoulder.

Something bubbles in your stomach, something akin to jealousy, an urgency to tell her that right now, in this room, he’s mine. No more questions. Something which quickly dissipates when you remind yourself to quit being fucking ridiculous and that right now, in this room, he’s someone else’s, and the thumb on your shoulder is merely to hold you back from fleeing. Nothing more.

The sonographer nods. Her name badge reads Freya. Pretty name. Stop picturing what your kid would look like as a Freya. You are not naming them after the first sonographer you meet.

“Shouldn’t be too long, then y’all can get home for the night. You live nearby?”

“Twenty minutes’ drive. Not far, are we?” Joel asks you.

Your eyes shoot down to his. “No,” you push your cheeks up, telling Freya, “not far.”

She flattens her lips against one another, lending you a sympathetic smile. “You got nothing to worry about, honey. Promise. Gel might be a little cold, that’s about as scary as this gets. We’re just gonna make sure everything’s looking good, check your dates, check your measurements. You’re doing great.”

“You hear that?” Joel murmurs, settling down into the chair by your side. His hand hasn’t left yours. His voice is low, meant just for you, when he repeats, “You’re doin’ great.”

You huff a laugh, some nervous release from your lungs.

Freya smiles, face lit by the faint glow of the screen in front of her. “We ready?”

You roll the hem of your tee up when she motions, bunching it under the wire of your bra. She squeezes a bottle over your stomach, which tenses solid when the frozen bite of gel curls right below your belly button. Freya smiles apologetically when you wince. Told you, she murmurs, and your breath escapes in a slightly more comfortable laugh. Lighter, easier. Scariest part over.

She presses the probe to your skin and spreads the gel, coating the bottom of your tummy in a slippery slick which tickles with each inch she covers. Two buttons pressed, and a dark image appears on a screen opposite you.

A gray fan, speckled like the ceiling above your head. Dark, black shapes growing and shrinking at the turn of Freya’s wrist. She pauses, two blobs onscreen: the larger, black, round, home to a smaller, misshapen one. Flecked with white and silver and moving slowly, gently, but – right there.

“Mom, Dad,” she grins, “meet your baby.”

You and Joel move forward at the same time, drawn closer to the crunchy image as if by some kind of natural magnetism. Eyes never blinking, lips agape. The shapes flutter, the smaller dipping in and out of view.

“You see right here, right in the center?” A white cross appears over the blob’s middle. “That little movement? The kinda – pulsing?”

You each nod. Your nails dig so deep into Joel’s hand that you risk drawing blood.

“That’s the heart. Ticking away.”

“The heart?” you ask, watching the rhythmic flicker in the center of the screen.

“Yep. Perfect, too.”

She hits another key and suddenly the room is filled with a muffled thudding; a steady, energetic pulse in your ears. It matches the movements onscreen, the tiny throb of the baby’s chest, the shape of your womb moving like waves before you.

And suddenly, it's real – all of it: the screen and the room and the sonographer and you, and Joel’s hand encasing yours, holding your knuckles to his lips, and –

And the heartbeat. Right there, right in front of you. Shy, probably as nervous as you are to introduce themselves. Feeling your eyes on them, curled up somewhere safe inside you. Right there.

You turn to Joel, and his illuminated face is staring straight at the screen. Eyes soaked with tears, blinking as they form, cheeks dappled with wet. He draws his eyes from his child only to look back at you, only to mirror your stunned smile, your disbelieving laugh, more tears dripping down into his beard. He sits up, presses his damp lips firmly to your forehead.

Freya mutes the heartbeat, pauses the scan where the image is clearest, and sits back. “I’ll give you guys a moment to yourselves,” she says, wheeling back in her chair. “Take all the time you need. I’m right outside.”

“Thanks,” Joel mumbles for the both of you, sweeping hair from your face.

The door closes on your little bubble – you, Joel, and the grainy image of your baby. The evidence that – yeah, that night happened, and yeah, you’re forever changed because of it. The evidence that you’re about to become a mom, for real, no matter how much the thought makes you feel like your stomach is kicking around at your ankles.

And the evidence that, no matter how scared you might be, how unprepared and unworthy you feel – you fucking adore that little blob already.

Love it as much as Joel does, stood over you, kissing your hair and whispering words you’re only half-listening to. A quiet thank you, a shaky I can’t believe it. Something about showing his brother. And when you look up at him, blinking at one another, inches apart – he takes your jaw in his hands and lowers his lips to yours.

Different. Softer. No want laced through. No urgency. Nothing needed, nor requested, that isn’t already right here in this little bubble of yours.

He kisses you slowly, eyes closed, holding you until you pull away for breath. His nose bumps against yours and you laugh, heads together, eyes low.

“Still scared?” he whispers.

“Terrified,” you tell him.

“Me, too,” he says, and kisses you again.

You lean back against the bed, relief settling your bones and soothing your heartbeat. The notion washes over you that, if you could, you’d stay in this room forever. Staring at the screen, holding Joel’s hand. Whispering fears into his mouth and letting him swallow them in a kiss.

He hands you some paper towel and helps you drag it across your stomach, your eyes still fixed on the little shape opposite. He hooks his chin over your head – the fresh, woody smell of his cologne infiltrating your lungs and throwing you under the haze of something you’re not quite sure how to define.

“Duck,” he says, voice vibrating into your skull.

“Huh?”

“Start saying duck. Make the baby think we’re saying that, then you can say –” he lowers his voice, “– fuck, all you want.”

“The hell would I have to say duck for?”

Joel stands upright and shrugs. “I don’t know. Think of somethin’. A nickname, maybe.”

“Duck?”

He nods plainly, glancing over to the screen.

The pillow beneath your head sighs as you turn from Joel back to the ultrasound. “Baby Duck,” you offer, and he smiles.

Smiles in a way you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile. Eyes glistening, cheeks swollen. Something innocent and earnest about it. Something pure.

He agrees. “Baby Duck it is.”

Joel insists that you spend the night at his place.

“It’s been a big day,” he reasons, fixing the bed in his guestroom. “Just – let me run around after you for a little bit.”

You fight your corner as much as you can be bothered – I gotta maintain my independence, I’m gonna be a single mom soon enough, you know – but, truthfully, you’ll take any excuse to have him rush around at your beck and call. Some days you open your mouth and he hears the wet click of saliva between your lips, and grabs a glass of water for you before you’ve even voiced the request.

He orders takeout, settles shoulder-to-shoulder with you on the couch, and lets you pick whichever movie you feel like putting him through until the food’s gone, he’s out of beer, and you’ve abandoned Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles for an argument about the best part of pizza.

You don’t like the crust?

Nope.

What fuckin’ age are you?

If it ain’t stuffed, it’s just not worth it.

At eleven, you bid him goodnight and wander upstairs, falling into a sea of navy-blue sheets to be delivered to sleep by the serene silence of Joel’s home. It takes no time for your eyes to flutter closed, the soft sheen of moonlight painted across the wall, sweeping from your view to be replaced in a whir by –

Lights. Overhead and all around and so bright and so close that you swear they’re etched on the inside of your eyelids.

You’re in the backseat, watching them soar by in blurs of white and red and amber and green, and your pulse is rattling through your veins and throbbing between your temples and you can’t focus on any one object for longer than three seconds, before your eyes roll and your head dizzies.

A word, slung from your lips in a half-wakened attempt to stop it. A word you barely recognize at first, don’t understand the meaning of. It’s been years. Why now? Mom.

You’re not sure why, or who you’re even reaching out to. There are two figures in the front seats, heads facing forward. She’s not turning around. She’s not even fucking moving, not reacting to the speed or the lights or your voice. Mom.

You scream it, the syllable ripping violently from your throat, and your tiny fingers reach for her swirls of hair. You pause, staring at the chipped polish on your stubby, kiddy nails. Mom, I’m scared.

The distorted blast of a horn scoops the car up in one motion, hurtling over itself along the freeway. You’re thrown to the roof of the car, plummet back down to your seat; the seatbelt throttles you, rips a burn deep into the skin of your neck. Back up again; your head hits the spongey roof of the car. Your stomach somersaults.

Mom, please, you wail, swiping for her hand. It’s lying limp by her thigh, dark droplets on her wrist. Mom Mom please Mom I’m scared Mom please I’m so scared I –

“Baby.”

His voice is low, earthy. It chews apart the high-pitched squeal of brakes and screaming. The glass smashing. The metal crunching.

You lift from the bed like it’s ice water, gasping when you finally surface back on Earth. Your chest heaves, it’s not sucking in enough breath; you can’t breathe you can’t breathe you can’t fucking breathe.

Joel whips the cover from your legs and you roll from the mattress, feet planting on the floor. You bend forward to grip onto the sheets, a choking rising up your throat, closer and closer until it tugs on your tongue.

“Icantbreathe,” you pant.

Joel’s body curves around yours. “You’re alright,” he’s telling you – urging you; one hand between your shoulder blades, the other holding your wrist for fear you might collapse. “I’m here, you’re okay. You’re at my place, you’re safe, but, kid – I need you to slow down. You’re hyperventilating.”

You work your breathing to the strokes of his hand up and down your spine: in out in out in and out and in and out and in, and out, and in, and…out…and in…and…out.

“That’s it. Keep doing that. You’re good, baby, I got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

In – and out. In – and out again.

The room slowly desaturates back into boring, moonlit blue. Feeling sputters back into your hands, clawing at the sheets once the sharpness dissolves. The cotton pets back, smooth under your quivering touch. Your lips stop tingling, your ears stop ringing. One after another, until your blood settles back to a steady stream and you straighten up.

“Can you sit down for me?”

“No,” you whimper, and Joel nods.

“That’s alright,” he says. “I’m gonna get you a drink, that okay?”

You grab his T-shirt. “No. Don’t leave me. Please. Sorry.”

He cups your frozen cheeks. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Just downstairs. You can come.”

He settles you at his kitchen table and shuffles over to the cupboards, rubbing his eyes. You feel the heat of embarrassment and guilt, watching as he settles down with a groan minutes later.

“Ginger,” he tells you, voice rounded by his mug, sliding one of your own over to you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, lifting it with two hands. The smell sharp, cutting up the remnants of gasoline and smoke.

“Many times do I gotta say it?” he asks dryly. “Quit sayin’ you’re sorry.”

You gulp nervously. “You got work in the morning. You’re gonna be exhausted.”

“And if I hadn’t let you keep me up watchin’ chick flicks, I’d be rested. That’s something I can deal with later. I got you to worry about right now.”

You shake your head; the ceramic hits the table with a sharp thud. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“Well,” Joel sniffs, “you’re carrying my child. I’ll always worry about you.”

You sit back, the curve of the chair cradling, your heart beating lamely against the wood. Joel’s jaw rests in the cushion of his palm, staring back at you.

“What time is it?” you ask, and he glances over his shoulder.

“Three. Take a sip.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sip.”

You obey, lifting the tea and swallowing harshly.

He watches every move, every shift reflected in his dark eyes, decorated by a tense, stony expression. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Never,” you say. “This never happens.”

Joel cranes his jaw, cracks his neck. “Alright,” he sighs, “that’s okay. Breathe again. You’re doing fine.”

But you don’t feel fine. The dregs of panic sizzle into something thicker, hotter. Anger. Frustration. “Why the fuck is this happening?” you hiss, fingers prodding into your eye sockets. “What the f–?”

“Easy. I don’t know. Hormones? Stress?”

“You sound like my fucking doctor.”

Joel smiles. Amusement, before concern wipes over it again. “Let’s just give it some time to pass, okay?”

You nod, hanging over your drink, the silhouette of your reflection staring back at you. The steam snakes up, seeping into your skin, bubbling under the surface. Wiping clean any memory of freeway or nail polish, like coating over a bathroom mirror. The shapes still visible behind, but blurred. Gone.

“How’s Vanessa?” you ask, an attempt to distract yourself.

Joel adjusts a little awkwardly in his chair. “She’s good. She loved the scan photo. Showed it to her sister. They’re sure it’s a boy.”

“Ha. Joel Jr.”

“Joel Jr.,” he agrees, and then attempts to distract himself. “So,” he says, “Allandale.”

“Mhm?”

“Wonder if I ever saw your mom or dad. When I was there visitin’ Sam.”

You shrug. “Doubt it. I mean, they always lived right next to the elementary school, if that helps. My mom was a first-grade teacher. The two of us used to walk there ‘n back together, every day.”

“First grade, huh? Best one.”

“Yeah. Yeah, and she was the best of the best. She used to go all out for her kids; used to go to Michaels and get all this crafty stuff so they could spend all afternoon making little houses or zoos, or – whatever she could think of. And she’d always keep some aside, bring some home for me to make one, too. One time, she came home with all this blue tissue paper and little foam fish, and we made an aquarium together.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Joel says.

“Yeah,” you say again, nodding eagerly. “She was so cool. And fun, y’know? I just remember her being so much fun. I always felt safe with her, felt loved. I actually used to think she hung the sun every morning, just for me.” You take a deep breath, replacing it with a broken sigh.

“What about your dad? What was he like?”

You frown. “He was…fine. Real quiet, reserved. A little grumpy, I guess. I always got the idea he couldn’t be bothered with me, young as I was. Always wanted to be left alone. I think my mom overcompensated a lot.”

Something flashes across Joel’s face that seems to say he knows – or, at least, he understands. Almost imperceptible, a quick flicker of annoyance. “You miss her?” he asks, switching back.

“My mom?” You almost laugh, gripping onto your mug. Staring at the slow swirl of ginger. A shrug which presents more like a flinch; an animal swatting a fly away. “I miss those parts, when I think of them. The aquarium, the walking to school. Miss the memories. But I don’t think I knew her well enough or long enough to miss her.

“I’ve lived way longer without her than I ever had her. Done everything without her, like –” gesturing down, “– this. But, sometimes…sometimes, I bundle the sheets up behind my back in bed, and I pretend it’s her. Pretend I have a mom, and she’s cuddling me to sleep. I dunno. Maybe that’s what missing her feels like.”

Joel soaks in every word you say, letting the shape of each one settle on the table between you before he speaks again. Letting them be spoken into the dead of night, collected by no one, and letting them fade into silence. Secrets sweeping off into starlight. Nothing you would admit in the daytime.

“What was her name?” he asks, voice timid and gentle in the dark kitchen.

You almost choke on your tea. “Shoot – I’m sorry. That was a lot. Sorry. She, uh – Her name?”

It brings the first genuine smile to your lips; the memory of your mom now clear behind your eyes. Her round cheeks, her fluttering earrings. The deep, dark curls of her hair, thick ringlets twisting and lighting in the sun. The gap between her front teeth, the purse of her lips as she kissed your cheeks, your hands, your tummy.

Her name like a melody in your head; a safe word, a calming mantra when the world becomes too noisy, too saturated, too sharp to bear. Two syllables. Two little beats, like a piece of her still lives in the sound of her name.

“Sarah,” you tell Joel. “Her name was Sarah.”

#*hits post*#*throws laptop from bridge*#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #macfrog #neighbor!joel miller #neighbor!joel #babydaddy!joel miller #babydaddy!joel #tw pregnancy

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blublublujk · 4 months

Text

closer

oneshot

word count: 12.7k

genre: step-siblings to lovers, dead dove (proceed with caution)

pairing: dongsaeng jungkook × noona reader

summary:

Jungkook had always known there was something wrong with him when he realized his obsession with his Noona was far too intimate consider their relationship, but she was perfect for him. Can anyone really blame him for falling in love with his beautiful older step-sister?

warnings: [PLEASE READ] dead dove, eat with caution (they are step-siblings and it's a bit romanticized), there's mentions of the pairing as minors but nothing too oversexualized and in detail, mentions of violent behavior (not towards reader), mentions of jungkook possibly being asexual or gay (he's not lol), pairing has shit parents and jungkook's father is an alcoholic, parent issues to the max, petite reader (fit the plot better), explicit sexual content: dirty sexual thoughts, jk has a huge dick and he jacks off so much, someone's a virgin in this and it is NOT the reader, there's a lot of crying in this one, jungkook probably needs therapy and the reader lol, extremely possessive and obsessive jungkook, DADDY KINK, hickeys, unprotected rough vaginal sex, dubious consent but they both want it, dirty talk, the reader slaps jungkook, squirting, blowjob, cunnilingus, come tasting/swallowing, slight ass play, choking, multiple orgasms, passing out and overstimulation, creampie, pregnancy (oopsie)

a.n: well i have no fucking words. im actually a bit shy and embarrassed to release this after my last post but we move on! this wasn’t apart of my drafts either SIGH. wrote this because i was insanely horny and ovulating so have fun ig. please enjoy it nicely. i certainly did. if you look past all the dark stuff you might find it’s actually pretty hot. i cant even believe i wrote this. im really scared … if anyone is crazy enough, please comment your thoughts. tempted to do more of these deranged stories. since tmr is christmas i leave this as a final parting gift for this year though it has nothing to do with chirstmas. byebye angels and merriest of chirstmas to you all <3

—> m.list

—> find me on ao3 & twt

Jungkook has officially hit rock bottom.

He has officially lost his mind. Again and again he comes back to what he knows he shouldn’t and knows that, but he’s only a man after all. Can anyone really blame him?

For the third time that night, Jungkook has fisted his cock empty. The younger’s dick was raw and swollen– sticky from the amount of beatings he had pumped. His ballsack had nothing else more to give him and Jungkook started to grow frustrated. His dick was still heavy in his palm, aching for something he knows he could never fucking have. It simply wasn’t fair.

Jungkook pants loudly, wiping his dirty come all over his black sheets. He’s dripping sweat and he feels his dick might fall off if he keeps masturbating this much, but it was simply impossible. He’s a growing man after all, it was totally normal for him to have such a high libido. His doctor even said so (he asked him during a typical yearly routine exam and the professional confirmed it was more than normal, that usually as he ages he’ll simply grow out of it). Jungkook doesn’t even believe him anymore. The more he fucks his hand, the more he grows the urge to stuff his cock in his step-sister’s tempting pussy.

He knows it’s disgusting. He tried to overcome the disgusting need to fuck her until she begged for more, the compulsive thirst to eat her juicy pussy from behind, the lustful desire to ruin her for anyone else that dared lay hands on his older step-sibling. Jungkook has had too much time to think about these sinful– incriminating thoughts. He imagines how his step-sister would look all heavy and round, carrying Jungkook’s seed for nine months straight. What amazing mother she would be. He thinks about this all the time.

And he’s not just saying this out of his ass. His step-sister saved him. He had one-on-one, firsthand experience to all her angelic glory. She’s patient, extremely caring, and she’s the sweest thing he’s ever known. Jungkook is in love with her.

Can anyone really blame him? His Noona is the best. He’ll say it over and over, a million times until the whole world gets to hear it because his Noona deserves that and much more.

Jungkook believes he’s the only one that could please his Noona. He truly believes that there is no better man in this world for her than him. He doesn’t care how selfish that seems. His Noona has been hurt too many times and Jungkook has unfortunately witnessed it all. Every heartbreak, every break-up, every stupid relationship he has had to tolerate. He falls sick to his stomach every time because he knows she deserves so, so much more and only he could do that for her. He knows how happy he could make her.

After all, only Jungkook knows what is best for her.

Jungkook hears the living room door close hard, the house shakes from the harsh movement. The noise startles him from his current position. He quickly wipes the come off his abdomen and the sweat off his body. He’s sure he probably stinks or at the very least his room does, but the heavy footsteps coming from the stairs worry him more.

“Noona?” He calls out and nobody answers him, by the time he’s shoving on the first pair of sweats he can find his bedroom door opens wide. Jungkook still has sweat dripping down his bare back, praying that it goes unnoticed. He simply got carried away, fucking his cock into his hand for thirty minutes straight.

“Noona…” Jungkook reaches out the second he hears you whimper. The second he has you in his arms you completely let go. Tears stream down your face with no plans on stopping and Jungkook feels his heart break in two. In a way, he feels conflicted.

On one hand, he’s extremely upset about whatever caused you any trouble and he’s willing to do anything to make it up to you. Buy you your favorite ice cream. Take you to watch a movie. Cook you a yummy home meal. He would do anything if it meant he could make you smile again.

But on the other well, Jungkook’s fucking pissed. He needs to know exactly what happened, who fucking did this to you, and how the fuck he even let this happen. He’ll kill whoever did this to you. He will. Jungkook would do anything for his Noona, even if that meant killing someone with bare hands.

“What’s wrong, Noona?” Jungkook’s gentle when asking the question, watching you cry your heart out. The younger rubs circles into your back, comforting you in a time of need. “What happened? Tell me. Jungkookie will help.”

You sob into his chest hard and Jungkook can’t help the way his insides flare. He wants to burn the world down. That way, nobody can harm you and he can take care of you like he’s meant to. Jungkook was born to love and care for you. He feels that deep in his (dark) heart.

“Oh, Jungkookie…” He keeps rubbing circles, desperate to make it all go away for you. His Noona didn’t deserve this.

“I found the messages.” Between hiccups, you cry harder trying to explain the problem. It hurts. It hurts so bad, maybe you’ll never be good enough. For him, or for anyone.

“What messages, Noona?” Jungkook’s nose bumps into yours, cautious doe-eyes stare down at you. Fire lights deep inside them, but they don’t scare you because Jungkook could never hurt a soul. Not your innocent little step-brother. Certainly not your sweet dongsaeng.

“S-Seojun’s.” You have trouble breathing and Jungkook pats your back softly, being extremely patient, but deep inside him, he can’t wait to beat Seojun’s ass regardless of whatever you say next. “He— he cheated on me.”

Jungkook no longer exists in the same universe you do. The first thing he sees is red. Jungkook’s going to fucking murder Seojun. How fucking dare he!

How could he ever cheat on you? Seojun must have a death wish and Jungkook can’t wait to deliver his wish personally. He should cut off each fin—

“Jungkookie… m-my heart hu—hurts.” He snaps out of the dark space in his head and starts drying your tears with his thumbs.

“Noona… he— he doesn’t deserve you.” Jungkook starts, holding you up with a strong grip. He could feel your squishy breast pressing hard against his upper stomach. In a different moment, different situation, he would have popped a boner and it would have been extremely awkward. Jungkook is not small in any sense but he’s a bit insecure. He wonders if you would love the feel of his huge cock invading your guts, but that’s for another time. “I’ve told you this before but you deserve someone that doesn’t make you question their love for you. Someone that loves you so much it could kill them. They should love and care for you so much that they would be willing to do anything for you. You shouldn’t have to deal with this, Noona. He doesn’t deserve you. Nobody does. They can’t ever love you. They won't. You’re safe here Noona, I love you.”

“My sweet Jungkookie…” You sigh as tears begin to slow down and stick to your face. “That’s right. Only you could ever love me this much I think. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook snaps. If anything Seojun should be crying buckets, begging for forgiveness and mercy because after Jungkook’s done with him, he’ll regret ever meeting you. Jungkook can’t wait to make the motherfucker pay for his unforgivable crimes. “He’s just a coward. Not a real man.”

“Oh my Jungkookie, when did you become so big? Huh? So grown up.” Your tone wavers as you continue. “You’ve always been such a romantic. Isn’t that right? Noona’s so proud of you Jungkookie, the best dongsaeng I could ever ask for.”

Jungkook melts with every compliment.

When you first met Jungkook, he couldn’t even look you in the eyes. He would get so fucking nervous around you. His stomach would flip whenever you stepped into his line of sight. He doesn’t remember a time he didn’t have the biggest crush.

Like anyone else, Jungkook assumed this was nothing but a minor crush. It was his first crush. Jungkook didn’t have experience with girls or dating for that matter. He wasn’t at all interested in any of that. For a cool minute, the younger assumed he must be gay, clearly it was the only explanation that made sense at the time, but then he realized not even then he felt anything. His best friend, Taehyung is extremely gay and pretty handsome (if he must admit), but he could never be with him, much less fuck the man.

His next thought is he has to be asexual. Jungkook didn’t ever think about sex, much less want to participate in any sexual activity. The thought used to disgust him. There was no one worthy. No one he would like to stick his dick into. Jungkook was broken!

Then, his father came home one night, shit-faced couldn’t even hold himself up. Jungkook had to carry him to bed that night. He was only fifteen years old, he had no busy doing that, yet had no choice.

“Son. W-Wan you to meet someone tu—tomorrow.” His father begins, Jungkook winces when he reels him in close, breath stinking of some sort of strong alcohol. “Yu— got you a ma—mother. S-Stepmother.”

Jungkook’s heart drops. He doesn’t need a fucking mother. Jungkook is happy with the way things are right now. Just him and his dad. No matter how broken their relationship is. He doesn’t need a mother.

“Appa, I don’t—”

“Quiet. Shh.” His father ends the conversation with a finger tap to his mouth. Forbidding the younger to get another word out. Jungkook feels he could sob because knowing his father, he was impending doom. “Sleep now child. Come here. Sleep with Appa.”

That night, Jungkook unfortunately sleeps in his father’s bed which reeks of musk and cheap cologne with a hint of mixed perfume. He doesn’t sleep all night, worried that he’ll wake up and his father will have choked during his sleep. He’s afraid that if he turns his head, he’ll find his father dead. Maybe that would have been better. That his father never woke up that next morning. Then he wouldn’t be stuck in the situation he was in today. His father’s at fault.

Jungkook’s father brings his “step-mom” over the next day and Jungkook doesn’t know how to feel. He hates her. He absolutely despises her. Jungkook feels it in his heart that she will completely ruin his life.

Jungkook already has a mom. She died giving birth to him. It’s not her fault. Jungkook’s mom is incredible and he’s heard great stories. Nobody will ever compare to his mother. Even though Jungkook never got the chance to meet her, he knows he would have loved her and she him. In another lifetime, Jungkook would have loved to spend his entire life in the warm arms of his mother.

What he wasn’t expecting was his step-mom to bring company. Jungkook obsesses from the very, very start.

“Jungkook-ah, meet your step-sister, Y/N. She’s two-years older than you. They are moving in with us, so I hope you will be a good dongsaeng to your Noona. We’ll live as a happy family from now on. Ain’t that right, Yeobo?” His father leans in kissing his step-mom with passion. Jungkook thinks if the situation was different he would have thrown up the sandwich he had for lunch, but as he looks up at you, he finds you playing with the ends of your sweater. You’re tiny. He doesn’t believe you’re older than him. You can’t be. Barely seventeen, but you have yet to grow into your lady parts. Jungkook couldn’t stop staring at you. Your lip was swollen from how hard you were sucking it from nerves. This had to be just as difficult for you as well.

With careful steps, you stretch your hand out, making peace with your new step-sibling. “Hello Jungkook, it’s nice to meet you. I promise to be a good Noona. I look forward to moving in. I hope you can accept me. I promise to take good care of you.”

The younger almost falls to his knees. He’s never seen a more beautiful smile. Jungkook takes your tiny hand in his. His hand is bigger than yours, he’s tempted to compare sizes. He’s even slightly taller than you. Jungkook puffs his chest thinking about how he’ll only grow taller. He’ll soon tower over you.

Jungkook doesn’t even say anything to you that night. Not a single word. He can’t. He shakes your hand awkwardly with a deep blush setting on his cheeks. Jungkook promises one thing. He promises to care for you too. That promise stays in his head for now, but Jungkook is certain now. He’s definitely not gay and he isn’t fucking asexual. Not anymore. Not ever.

Since then, it’s like you’ve been attached by the hip. Jungkook grew to become a man. Now twenty-three and you twenty-five. And you grew into a woman besides him.

He was the best dongsaeng you could ever ask for. Jungkook was sweet. He would cry about everything and anything. While trying to get closer to one another and build a bond, you thought it would be a good idea to watch classic romance films. Jungkook would cry to every single one. A true romantic at heart and you, being the best Noona ever, would be there to comfort him. Like you would your own baby brother.

Back then, you used to dream of having siblings, you’re extremely lucky you get to live that with Jungkook. You didn’t mind that he was a big cry-baby, it was endearing that a boy could have so many emotions and show them without holding back.

He was extremely sweet. Jungkook was protective, like any usual brother was. Always looking for ways to watch out for you and even though he was the younger, he took care of you, a lot.

Your mother wasn’t present much. And his father was much worse. They simply weren’t there. Not then, not now. But Jungkook was there. He was the shoulder you could cry on, the person you could run to, the only person you could fully depend on. Jungkook was always there.

Jungkook was very kind-hearted, so innocent and pure. He was never the kind of guy to bring girls home. Talk about sex. You aren’t even sure if he’s ever had a girlfriend or even ever had sex for that matter. He even watches his mouth around you. He doesn’t cuss and he certainly doesn’t act out. He’s a very good boy, the best and kindest dongsaeng.

“Thank you, Jungkookie.” You pull him closer, hands wrapping around his solid back, with a sniffle you question. “You— you’re hot?”

Jungkook blanks, very confused. Were you realizing your love for him? Is this the way it will happen? Jungkook’s not sure he wants it this way. Not after he just helped you get over another man. He hopes this time for fucking good. He cannot bear hearing about Seojun and his stupid face ever again.

“Do you have a fever, Jungkookie? You’re sweating!” You start to pat him all over, trying to measure his temperature with your hand. “Oh no my baby, let’s get you to bed!”

Jungkook nearly awes. You went from having one of your worst days to completely being concerned about his well being. The younger beams in relief, he’s lucky his Noona is clueless. So fucking unaware. Doesn’t even realize the sheets are still filled with his filthy release. All thanks to her beauty.

“I’m okay Noona, you should head to bed. It’s been a long day.” The younger leans in for another hug, a thank you for being so kind.

You keep insisting. “But you’re dripping! You have a fever, Jungkookie!”

Jungkook chuckles with you in his arms. “I worked out before you came home. I didn’t have time to shower. I don’t have a fever, everything’s okay. ”

You fake a gag. “Yuck! Don’t even warn me either! Jungkookie, you’re an animal!”

Oh, if only you knew. :)

Jungkook doesn’t allow you to slip from his arms, only holding on tighter.

“Scared of a little sweat, Noona?” The younger teases with a sly smirk.

“When it's you, yes. Don’t want my dongsaeng’s sweat on me.” Jungkook tries to look past the “when it’s you” because what the hell does that mean? Would you like sweat if it came from someone else? Would you touch him if he was someone else? Would you lick it off if the situation was different? Jungkook swats all those thoughts away. He almost popped a boner and he doesn’t understand how that’s even possible after the day he’s had today. He is done for today, but his dick sadly has a mind of its own.

“Whatever. Go sleep!” Jungkook unfortunately has to let go which is the worst part, but is surprised when you’re blushing against his still, very bare chest, your smaller hand resting on his abs.

“Can… can you come sleep with me Jungkookie?” You get so shy Jungkook has to hold back from babying his own Noona.

Like music to his fucking ears. Of course, he’ll sleep with you. He silently thanks Seojun for being a fucking dumbass. Jungkook’s about to pick up all the pieces he just broke earlier and never, ever give them back.

“Don’t get all shy on me Noona, of course I will! What type of dongsaeng do you take me for?” Jungkook dramatically in offense holds his chest.

“Only the best, my sweet Jungkookie, but go shower first. You reek.” The younger gasps, feigning offense.

“No I don’t!” Jungkook is quick to defend himself, coming close so he could smell his pits. He’s probably smelled better, but he actually doesn’t smell, not that he knows of. If anything he’s surprised his room doesn’t reek of that crappy lotion he uses to get himself off. “See!”

The taller brings you in once more and you push him off hard. “Absolutely not you maniac! Go shower now!”

“Fine!” Jungkook gives up and just as he’s about to retrieve the stuff he’ll need for his shower, he asks. “Your room or mine?”

He silently prays you pick your own because he cannot stand the smell of his own room any longer. Plus you still have yet to notice the come on his sheets. Jungkook would be so embarrassed if you saw his soiled bed like this. His Noona deserves nothing but the best. A clean, comfortable environment. His room was probably a safety hazard right now and he wasn’t willing to risk the chance for conversation.

“Mm, mine!” You decide with a pretty smile.

“Okay, Noona. I’ll be there in five. Don’t wait up for me.” With one last hug and a kiss at your temple, Jungkook goes off to shower and you retreat to your room.

Yes, it was a bit strange. Sleeping with your grown step-sibling and all, but that’s the bond you and Jungkook had grown. The bond was so strong. You guys did just about everything together and by each other’s side. There was never anything super strange about that to you.

Your friends once commented how it was just a bit weird. The strange relationship you carried with your step-sibling and that maybe you were just slightly a bit too close. That made them uncomfortable.

Every time they would come over, Jungkook was just there. Jungkook always came first. They heard it too many times and saw it with their own eyes. When they finally decided to speak to you about it, you freaked saying it was nothing like that! Your relationship was nothing short of platonic, if anything. Jungkook was just your sweet little dongsaeng. Nothing more, nothing less. What was so strange about that?

After that, your friends never brought it up ever again. There was no use. You would never see things in the way they would. It still made them uncomfortable from time-to-time, but Jungkook made you so happy so they kept to themselves for your sake.

Jungkook rushes while in the shower. He scrapes his body clean and practically flies out the shower. Jungkook knows it’s useless right now, but he applies a bit of his costly cologne. Only because he knows you love it so much, you compliment him every time he wears it. Since then, he has bought at least eight more times because he doesn't go a day without wearing the damn scent. He knows you will likely be dead asleep by the time he gets to climb in bed, but he wants it to stick to his skin and last until tomorrow then you will cling and smell the cologne until your nostrils get used to it.

With one last look into the mirror, Jungkook makes it to your room. The younger is obsessed with your room as much as he is with you. Your room smells, tastes, and looks just like you.

Every time you aren’t home, Jungkook practically lives in your room. The amount of times he’s masturbated in this exact bed. Your sheets are incredibly soft, very pink and the best part is you leave your scent all over them. Jungkook smells and smells your honey-like scent until he grows desperate, then he’ll make a mess all over himself, being careful so he doesn’t leak into your sheets. However, sometimes he’ll catch himself leaking all over your stuffed animals. The younger doesn’t even feel bad about it, not one bit. He probably should, he’s disgusting and shameful. For now, Jungkook lives with himself and his rancid thoughts.

When Jungkook gets to your room, he finds you already fast asleep, leaving the left side of your bed open for him. The younger salivates when he sees that your blanket isn’t covering your body, not at all. It’s almost like you’re inviting him, the whole world wants him to fail miserably and you clearly don’t care about his well-being.

By now, Jungkook is used to the way you dress. It kills him inside whenever he watches you walk out the house, perky breasts and that fat juicy ass tempting every walking man alive the minute you step out that front door. When you’re off to bed, you wear these little boy shorts that drive him insane because they cover nothing. Your plump ass falls right out from the stretchy material and Jungkook desperately wishes he could touch and squeeze until his heart’s content, but he would never touch you without your consent. He’s not an animal!

“Kookie?” He hears you slur in your sleep, small grabby hands reaching for him. Jungkook immediately places himself in bed, letting you wrap around his broad, strong figure. Even in the dark, he can see your ass hanging from outside your shorts. You must have gotten hot while waiting for him given that your blanket was nearly kicked down to the floor. Jungkook doesn’t care to pick it up.

And why would he? He’ll keep you warm now.

Jungkook falls asleep with ease that night. His nostrils breathing that sweet scent and your light calm exhales lull him straight to dreamland, where his dreams consist of a love so precious and extremely forbidden.

The next morning, Jungkook wakes up before you, which wasn’t usual at all. He was used to finding you up and running bright and early, cooking him breakfast before leaving to work, like you usually did for him.

Before he even gets to open his eyes, he feels something push up against his stiff morning wood. It’s almost like he feels something constantly rocking against him, little-by-little. Jungkook shoves his erection deeper into the pillow-like sensation, chasing the enticing— irresistible feeling.

Jungkook’s hips start moving on their own accord, pushing and thrusting into the soft feeling of clouds. His morning wood grows tenfold when he hears a quiet whimper. He only drives his cock faster and further into that unknown realm, searching for heavenly release. Cock heavy and aching inside his briefs.

The younger almost jumps out of the bed when he hears the prettiest moan. He’s heard this delightful sound before. Only his Noona has the sweetest of sounds. He hates to admit it, but he’s heard these same moans before. And they didn’t come from his own doing, but Seojun’s. There were nights Jungkook couldn’t catch a wink of sleep because he overheard his step-sister getting fucked for hours on end.

…

“Fuck. Oh my god. Don’t stop.” He would throw his pillow over his head and squeeze, praying the fucking ended soon which it probably did because Seojun was disappointing as fuck. Pathetic fucking punk. He prayed for that or that he suffocated himself to death, either was fine for him. As long as his suffering was put to an end.

You sounded fucking perfect though. Jungkook could admit that easily. His Noona sure had a filthy mouth on her. Jungkook wanted to plug it with his fat cock. He wishes it was him instead and maybe one day it will. For now, he’ll continue dreaming.

“Yeah? Like that?” Seojun would grunt while Jungkook rolled his eyes until they would hit the back of his head. He couldn’t do this anymore. Jungkook knows it’s as easy as bringing it up, but how could he look at his perfect step-sister and say that to her! He simply refuses.

“Yes, like that. Yes please. Fuck, fuck, fuck— nghh!” And Jungkook was truly the worst. He could only hold himself back so much!

Jungkook rips the drawer open in his room, feeling around for lube, lotion fucking anything that will get his dick wet and when he finally finds it, he squirts a considerable amount and starts fisting his slicken cock. He grows thicker in his own hand. Jungkook wonders how his cock would look if it were your hand instead. He moans just imagining the idea.

“Coming.” Seojun’s muffled groans also echoed in his room. He doesn’t know how you do it and to be frank, he wishes Seojun would just shut the fuck up and do his job. The younger smirks knowing he’s struggling, leaving you in disappointment. He’s positive he’s never had his dick wet for more than ten minutes. What a bum! Can’t even please his girl.

Jungkook hears your moans grow louder. He swears he can hear them ringing in his fucking ears. Like you purposely wanna get caught. Jungkook gets too much into his head because he starts growing desperate, nearly coming all over himself.

If the situation was different, Jungkook knows he wouldn’t stop fucking you until you were passed out. It was only fair. You needed a real man, someone who could satisfy you without question. He knows he could do it. Fuck being experienced. Why does someone need all this experience if Seojun is proving that even by being a manwhore that doesn’t guarantee you a happy sex life or jackshit.

Point is, Seojun sucks and Jungkook will imagine it’s him instead of that lame fucker. He’ll imagine it’s him that’s making you feel all those things, that’s making you scream into the pillow. Though if it had really been him, Jungkook would snatch that pillow away from your mouth. He would want to hear every single sound that comes from your pouty mouth. Fuck, Jungkook couldn’t wait for you to be his and only his.

That night, Jungkook came all over his hand, some landing on his face. He wishes you were there to lick it clean.

…

Even in his fucking dreams, Jungkook feels like he can’t catch a fucking break.

His hips still, he doesn’t wanna further embarrass himself by humping into his step-sister’s ass like some horny desperate teenager. Jungkook knew this was a terrible idea, especially considering that he’s had the hardest time keeping his dirty— filth of thoughts to himself. Jungkook didn’t know how much longer he could live without knowing the taste of that perfect little pussy. How snuggly you would fit around his huge cock. He knows you could take him so well, you were made for him after all.

“S okay Jungkookie, ‘s normal. Noona isn’t mad.” The younger pretends to be asleep while he hears you babble in sleep, but you know he isn’t and to save his dignity (and yours) you allow it. Jungkook can’t help, but to think maybe you wanted it too. Was that crazy?

You both fall back to sleep. This time Jungkook gives you a respectful distance so he doesn’t commit the same mistake as before and when he wakes up, you act as if nothing happened and Jungkook appreciates that. He had the absolute best Noona, always looking out for her dongsaeng, no matter the situation.

As the days pass, you and Jungkook spend a lot of time together. Maybe it’s because you are single again or maybe it’s because you just wanna spend time with your (not so) little step-brother.

Jungkook’s the happiest. He no longer has to listen to you talk about Seojun and he gets to spend all the time in the world with you. For some time, he believes things are perfect.

Every night, you fall asleep on his chest. Waking up in his arms and Jungkook falls in love harder. Sometimes he steals kisses while you are sleeping. You wouldn’t mind, right?

He kisses your chubby cheeks, kisses your cute button nose, he’ll even kiss your smaller fingers, one-by-one. He has yet to taste those plump lips, but he doesn’t doubt they don't taste of flowers and honey.

“Jungkookie, you think you could fetch me my shoes? I left them near the closet door.” The younger hears you call out to him and being the good step-brother he was, he snatches your shoes up and starts walking away. It seems you forgot something else because Jungkook snaps his eyes to your phone, which starts buzzing with notifications.

Jungkook knew your password of course, you didn’t hide anything from your baby step-brother and he knows it would be wrong to invade your privacy, but he simply wants to see who it is. There’s absolutely no harm in that!

The taller snatches up your phone, disconnecting it from the charger and he sees red for a minute.

Three missed texts and two missed calls, in bold texts your phone reads, Seojun❤️.

He immediately smashes in your passcode without hesitation and any permission. What he finds is absolutely disgusting. Jungkook feels sick.

Seojun❤️: i miss you baby :( been thinking of that pussy can’t wait to stuff you full soon

Jungkook goes back to the messages from before, his ears are hot. He doesn’t know whether to scream or cry his eyes out.

Seojun❤️: coming over

Asshole doesn’t even ask for permission, just does what he feels is right and that only riles Jungkook further.

Me: don’t can't tonight jungkook's home

Good girl, good Noona. He knew he could trust you, if only this asshole understood that you didn’t need anyone else and left you alone. Jungkook took care of you just fine. Just you and him. Always.

Seojun❤️: that never stopped us before?

Me: jun, please. not tonight.

Seojun❤️: so when? you guys are close again or what? you know how i feel about that guy.

Jungkook’s burning inside. He knows how you feel about him? The fuck was his problem. Jungkook’s tempted to smash your fucking phone in pieces. He’ll buy you a new one and it certainly won’t have this asshole’s number.

Me: he’s not just some guy. he’s my younger brother. of course we are close. soon. i’ll come see you soon.

Seojun❤️: step. step-brother.

Me: what does that have to do with anything jun? he’s like a little brother to me.

Seojun❤️: can he say the same?

What. The. Fuck.

Jungkook was gonna kill this stupid fuck.

Me: don’t talk about him that way. talk to you later.

Seojun❤️: whatever.

Then Jungkook rereads the messages over and over again. He’s fucking fuming. The younger hears the door before he hears you coming.

“Jungkook.” Your voice drowns in his ears. He snaps a mean gaze towards you, your phone is in his hands and he’s shaking. “Oh Jungkookie… I can explain.”

Jungkook throws your phone, landing hard against your bed, it bounces and falls to the floor. You jump in fear, your eyes widen, mouth parting slightly.

“Don’t. I’ve seen it all.” Your step-brother’s voice trembles. His voice is cold and rough around the edges. “How fucking could you Noona?”

You gasp at the sudden use of cuss words. Jungkook doesn’t cuss, not in front of you, not ever. He was a good boy, a very good boy.

“Jungkook, listen—”

“Shut up!” Jungkook snaps harshly. Those doe-eyes turn violent. “How could you!”

“H-He— we were just testing the waters.” You explain with a pout, your tears already threaten to fall. Jungkook isn’t a yeller. He never loses his patience, no matter how upset he could be, but you’ve officially cracked him.

“Testing the waters?” Jungkook ridicules with a dry laugh, eyes rolling. He couldn’t believe his ears.

“Y-Yes.”

“You’re back with him.” The younger one says as if it’s a statement. His tone is sharp, dripping of disbelief and hatred. Jungkook scoffs. “I can’t fucking believe you, after everything!”

“Puh— please stop yelling at me.” Jungkook’s eyes soften for a little when he hears your voice shake and eyes dampen with tears.

His voice is still rough as he continues to spew the fire. “You really think he could keep you happy? That he could satisfy you? When will you finally see it, Noona? He’s fucking pathetic. Loser excuse of a man.”

Your pout grows bigger and you start crying softly, embarrassed that the scolding is coming from someone younger, coming from the one person that should be learning from you. Shamefully, you can’t even look him in the eyes, you avoid his sharp gaze and continue crying pretty tears.

Jungkook keeps spitting his words at you and you can’t bear them much longer. “You really think he will ever know what is best for you? That he could provide for you? I bet he—”

“And you do?!” You yell between your blur of tears, feeling like shit.

“I do! I fucking do. Everything I do is for you, for us Noona. I’m here working my ass off to rebuild you and you let him break you over and over! Aren’t you sick of him? Sick of this? Because I am. I fucking am. I hate him and I hate that you let him come between us!” The taller uses his height to his advantage, towering over you while he spews his truth.

“For me? For us?” You speak in disbelief, scoffing and wiping off your tears roughly with your long sleeve. “Jungkook, you speak like we are together! This isn’t normal. The way you care for me, it— it isn’t normal. You should be getting lost in the lights at your age, dating around. I’ve never seen you even speak to another girl besides me! It’s strange! Plus, Seojun… he’s truly the only one that cares for me. Besides you.”

Jungkook explodes. The taller tugs you towards him, a strong hand on your throat while he squeezes mercilessly. You immediately wrap your hands around his wrists, trying to shove him off, but Jungkook’s much taller, much stronger than you are. It’s no use, the more you pull, the more he tightens his hold. You struggle to breathe, hiccuping dry tears.

“I really tried to do this your way Noona. I tried to be patient and do this at your pace, but you’re fucking clueless. I love you. Don’t you see it? Of course I care. I’ve always cared. I’ve loved you since the very first day. I tried to overcome these emotions but the more I denied them, the stronger they became. I let them consume me. I’ve never been more at peace, but I can’t stand here and watch you ruin yourself any longer. I can’t. You and Seojun are done. Do you understand?” Jungkook’s hand is still on your throat and you just nod desperately, hoping that he lets go some time soon.

You should have known, should have seen it coming. People warned you, at least, they tried. You wouldn’t listen and refused to believe it (or see it). Jungkook wasn’t a bad person, he still isn’t. He’s just confused and young. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s not in love it’s just fascination, yeah, you’ll say that for now because it makes you feel better. Not because you definitely feel something splur in your own (tainted) heart.

“Good baby, good. I never wanna see, hear, or know anything about that stupid fuck ever again.” Jungkook loosens his grip a bit and you immediately take a gush of breath. “He’s not good for you. Never will be. You deserve so much more Noona, isn’t that right?”

Between a few tears, you keep nodding.

“Yeah, only Daddy knows what’s best for you. Right?” The younger one doesn't even blink when saying the words. For a second, you think about who he is referring to as daddy, but then you realize. This was so fucking wrong, and yet you feel yourself slipping already. Maybe he was right. What’s the point of denying it? “Only I could ever love you the way you deserve to be loved. Uh baby?”

You nod with a muffle cry.

“Speak.” Jungkook orders. “Tell Daddy that he’s right. Let me hear it.”

“Y-Yes Daddy.” He hears you sweetly comply and even through a blur of tears, you see him smiling down at you.

“Good, good girl. Now, give Daddy a kiss baby.” Jungkook leans down and you hesitantly meet him halfway. The kiss is very sweet considering the pressing situation. Jungkook curls his lips around yours like there’s nothing off or wrong about this situation. He doesn’t seem to mind this at all, like he’s been dying to get to do this with you. You don’t know whether to be happy about that idea or fall sick to your stomach. Either way, you continue to kiss him.

The taller pries your mouth open with his tongue and you allow him access, pouty lips slack. Jungkook sucks and licks into your mouth, greedily tasting the juices on your tongue. His tongue clashes with your messily, spit mixing in the process. It's dirty and filthy. And it is extremely wrong.

You feel so guilty because you’re the older one of the two. You should be the one putting a stop to this, but the more his tongue explores your mouth, the more you dip into the dark— alluring abyss.

“Been dying to do that.” Jungkook breathes into your lips savoring the taste of your salty tears and cherry chapstick in his mouth. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited.”

You whimper quietly and the younger soothes you in his arms. “W-We shouldn’t, Jungkook, not yu—you.”

His smile wavers for a second. “Don’t be scared, Noona. Who else other than me huh? Who can love you like I love you?”

You close your sad eyes to imagine what would have happened if you just came to grab your shoes yourself, wishing you had done that instead. You would have seen your phone and picked up the call instead. This was so wrong. With a deep sigh, you let the darkness consume you too.

“I love you, Noona.” Jungkook whispers, his eyes awfully speaking the truth.

“I-I love you too.” The taller smiles and kisses you once again, this time you don’t even fight it. You don’t hesitate. You take time to enjoy the feel of his lips moving passionately against yours and let yourself be loved. For once, you feel loved and that’s enough for you.

Jungkook takes your cheeks in his calloused hands and starts kissing everywhere. Leaving his trace all over your face. He kisses your nose, your forehead, your lips again. Jungkook brings his nose across your jaw, leaving little pecks here and there. When he reaches your neck, he starts licking and sucking every inch of sensitive skin, hoping to leave his marks behind.

The younger is satisfied when he sees the dark spots he’s left to beautifully decorate your skin.

“Open.” He taps two fingers against your mouth, wrapping his other hand around your neck and you slightly slack your jaw on command. Jungkook shoves those two fingers into your mouth, pushing them down against your wet compliant tongue. He watches you struggle to take them further, gagging a few times around his sloppy fingers. Jungkook was right, you look so fucking good when something is fucking your mouth. “So good for Daddy.”

Whining against his fingers, Jungkook pulls them out. Cock already feeling tight and heavy inside his pants. He couldn’t wait to get out of these and you weren’t doing any better. You could feel slick start to dampen your panties.

“So pretty, Noona. The prettiest.” Jungkook starts to kiss you again. It starts off a bit slow, but there’s hunger in the way he looks at you. He’s waited so long for this moment, he doesn’t wanna hold back any longer. The younger wants to let it all go tonight. It’s only right. There’s no more hiding, no more secrets. Jungkook was gonna claim what was so rightfully his.

“J-Jungkookie, maybe we should–” The taller licks into your mouth before you can continue and you grow really desperate, feet shuffling from nerves. You need to stop this before it gets any further, before it gets to the point of no return. “Wuh-we should s-stop.”

Jungkook ignores you. He sucks and bites your bottom lip into his mouth and you’re starting to lose sense of everything so quickly. Suddenly, Jungkook’s hand is at your throat again, but he doesn’t squeeze it. He just holds it, kisses around your face with gentle movements. “You have the nerve for sure Noona, don’t you think you owe me an apology. Huh baby?”

“I– I’m sorry.” Jungkook would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on the way you quickly adapted and complied.

He shakes his head, squishing your cute cheeks together, tempted to kiss them both and he does after he’s done speaking. “That simply won’t do. Think that’s enough for everything you’ve done to Daddy? For all the hurt you caused? Get on your knees baby.”

And what else can you do, but drop on your fragile knees. The second your knees hit the hard, cold floor, you whimper in pain.

“Hurts? Here, my love.” Jungkook awes with empathic doe-eyes, without hesitation he reaches for one of your softest pillows and places it down below your knees, helping you onto the comfortable cushion. “Better?”

It is shocking and not at the same time, how quickly Jungkook seems to be okay and fine with this whole thing. If it’s true that he’s been dying to do this for years then in a fucked up way, it kinda makes sense, but it doesn’t change the fact that you guys are family, on paper and in every way that it matters. Your parents are married for fuck’s sake.

“Yes.” You simply respond and Jungkook smiles contentedly.

“Yes what?” He asks, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You hesitate, but end up giving in. Does it even really matter anymore? The deed had been done. You fucked yourself over the second you let him take control of the situation. Jungkook owns you. “Yes Daddy.”

Jungkook towers over you, thick muscular thighs stand tall before you. He hums satisfied with your response. “Open up wide for Daddy.”

The taller has quick hands on his belt, snatching it off himself. Then he pulls his jeans down and tosses them aside without care. He keeps his briefs on for now. Jungkook needs to have you work for it, just a bit. It’s his right after all.

“Pull my dick out.” He rasply orders and you gulp at the sight. He’s packing, you can’t even see it yet, but you are sure the real thing is not much different. Your hands shake as they come up to the waistband of his boxers. You’re about to see your baby step-brother’s cock and you don’t even seem bothered enough to care.

Carefully, you pull them down slowly, revealing inch-by-inch. The tip of his dick pops out first, his slit already dripping pre-come. You practically salviate, gums aching to feel the weight of it on your tongue. Jungkook swears he might fucking burst all over your face before he even gets to stick it in. Though he hates Seojun’s guts, he kinda gets it now. Your soft touch on his sensitive girth nearly makes him shiver.

To be fair, it is Jungkook’s first time! He’s never, ever done this before. He saved himself for the only person that deserved to have him. It was easy for him actually. There was not a damn person that made or could ever make him question his choice. He knew from the very beginning, it was you or no one else.

Jungkook would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit terrified. He doesn’t wanna ruin this whole thing, he’s seen plenty of videos online, mainly through Twitter courtesy of Taehyung. Jungkook is extremely grateful. Seriously, he doesn’t know what he would have done without him. He doesn’t trust much people, but when he confessed at his grown age of twenty-two that he was still a virgin during a night of mixed drinks, Taehyung simply brushed it off and told him there was nothing wrong about that!

Taehyung understood him to some degree. Sex is an intimate experience and you should only ever share it with the people who you truly love, but he was a manslut, through-and-through, so he couldn’t comprehend how Jungkook has lived so long without it. Major respect and props to him, but Taehyung could fucking never.

Either way, Taehyung would send clips here and there as pointers to what some people could possibly like and enjoy during sex. Jungkook took plenty of mental notes, he was beyond ready. He shouldn’t be this nervous, but now that he has you right where he wants you, he’s shaking inside. He doesn’t know how sex workers do this on the regular.

Finally, his dick is out, the whole nine-inch monster and you don’t even have the ability to face him anymore. His cock weighs heavy on your smaller hand. It’s the perfect fit, Jungkook thinks.

With a shallow swallow, Jungkook tugs your head toward it. His tip leaks a bit and Jungkook hopes you don’t notice that he has no clue what he’s doing. After watching porn for so long, he can only hope that everything he’s doing so far is pleasurable for you both.

“Lick it.” He says, voice rough and you do as told.

Cautiously, your pink tongue slips out and experimentally starts licking. The second your moist tongue is on his cock, Jungkook’s guttural moan escapes his throat.

This was gonna be much harder than he thought, but Jungkook’s been practicing. Jungkook is determined to last longer than any other fuck you’ve ever had. He’s determined to be the best and show you exactly what you’ve been missing, wasting all that time on stupid fucks that could never please and love you the way he could.

“Open wider baby, yeah just like that.” Along with the tip of his cock, Jungkook shoves his thumb inside. Your mouth is so wet and warm, taking him exactly how he imagined you would. The younger wonders how much more you could take.

“Gonna fuck your mouth now.” With one last warning, Jungkook plants his feet firmly and thrusts himself deep, causing you to gag so prettily around him when the tip hits the back of your throat.

Clearly, you aren’t used to taking so much cock at once, Jungkook supposes he could go easier on you. But do you really deserve that from him?

Jungkook doesn’t think so.

So he fucks into your mouth harder and faster, his thumbs cleaning the tears that run down your face. Jungkook doesn’t hold back any sounds, he moans roughly when you suck a bit harder on it like you want it to hurt him. Good thing Jungkook likes the pain. It’s why he tatted himself so many times. Jungkook embraces everything, even punishing pain.

“Easy with your teeth baby, don’t wanna hurt Daddy, do we?” The younger is a bit taken back when he sees you nod furiously, mouth full of cock, struggling while taking him deeper. God, you truly do look the best this way. “Oh? How will Daddy fuck you then silly?”

You whine muffles with his girth down your throat, secretly rolling your hips on the pillow, rubbing friction against your clothed sex.

“Huh? What’d you say?” Jungkook teases as he continues to brutally fuck your sloppy mouth, spit leaking down your chin. “I can’t understand you. Sorry!”

But he’s not sorry, not one bit! He practically eats you alive with his eyes, feeling the heat start to form in his stomach. Jungkook’s ready to come.

He forces you to deepthroat him with a ruthless thrust, pushing your head down on his length, as far as you could go. Jungkook doesn’t dare let go until your eyes water beyond control and he doesn’t hear you breathe through your nose. When he releases the tight grip on your head, you are desperately breathing heavily, coughing spit.

“Puh—Please.” Your voice breaks. Jungkook looks down and almost feels bad, you look a mess. Pretty little mess. “N-No more.”

He considers it, but he won’t let you go that easy. “Make me come, then you can beg for mercy after.”

Even after all this, Jungkook’s words surprise you. How? How was it fucking possible? For so long, you believed Jungkook was a certain person, a kind-hearted, romantic sweetheart. In a way, he still is. Jungkook truly believes that this was meant for him. That his whole purpose was to be yours. He never showed this side of himself ever and maybe that’s why it terrifies you. How much is he capable of and how much are you willing to give up for him?

Jungkook throws his head back and moans loudly when you start sucking with purpose, your intentions set clear. He’ll come within seconds if you continue like this.

You don’t let up. If he wants to come, he will. You suck down hard, taking his cock as far as your throat allows. There’s no need to lie, Jungkook tastes and even smells amazing down there. You’ve always known he’s been a clean freak, but he really does take care of himself well.

Gargling him down, Jungkook starts to whine and slow down his pace, but you continue your menacing behavior, sucking him off the way you imagined he would like it. And Jungkook starts seeing stars. He knows that after this, he’ll never want to not do this. This was much, much better than fisting his own cock. You’ve completely ruined him.

“I— I’m gonna come.” Jungkook says and almost immediately comes, bursting his release inside your mouth. “Swallow it.”

There’s no doubt that you won’t. You continue sucking until he’s completely empty and swallow him down.

Jungkook’s eyes are unrecognizable. Not that he looks any different besides his fucked out state, but they are so sharp and dangerously sexy. “Show me.”

You stick your tongue out as far as you can and show him how nicely you’ve cleaned up after him, Jungkook could come again.

Once he’s satisfied, his rough voice booms. “Come here.”

You stand on two feet, your cunt is surely dripping because you feel your panties sticking to your folds. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to take you back in his mouth, not bothered one bit about the fact that you just swallowed his semen. He licks into your mouth like he’s famished, tasting himself on your tongue. Jungkook doesn’t know how he will survive without this now.

“Lie down. On your stomach.” Even though you’ve pretty much gone as far as you can with this, you still hesitate. Maybe it's your guilt or maybe it’s because you are liking this much more than you should, that you still comply even when you shouldn’t.

Your pillow gets left and forgotten where it currently sits and you lay down, stomach pressing into the mattress. Jungkook pats your head and you nearly purr.

“Lift yourself up baby.” Jungkook’s so fucking hard still, he doesn’t get how this is possible. Staring at your perfect petite figure, he starts to get it. “Gonna take these off now.”

Jungkook slowly tugs on your shorts and you shake your head, stopping him once again, your hand flies to his wrist. “N-No.”

“Don’t make me tie your hands Noona, be good for me pretty.” And once again, Jungkook wins. You don’t see yourself winning any time soon. “Gonna undress you now, keep those precious hands away from me for now.”

Repeating his actions from earlier, Jungkook pulls down your shorts and your ass falls right from out the lousy material.

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses, taking in the view as you whimper softly. Your ass is even better, almost bare, your fat pussy peeks through your thin panties. He runs his finger along where your slit should be, feeling your slick dampen his fingertip over the fabric, moaning quietly. The large wet spot on your soiled panties, told him all he needed to know, you wanted this just as much as he did.

With his index finger, he curls his finger along your waistband and brings your panties off as well and the sight doesn’t disappoint. Jungkook licks his dry lips and starts to get to work.

The younger spreads your folds into a “V” and sticks his nose so far into your glistening cunt without warning. Jungkook starts to eat you out like never before and you crumble, moaning and squealing against the feeling of his perfect lips munching on your dripping pussy.

The taller doesn’t let you get any further, heavy-hand on your hip while he keeps you in place. He slurps your sweet slick into his mouth, swallowing down every drop greedily without any fucking plans on stopping soon. Jungkook has found his purpose.

Jungkook was made to eat your fat juicy pussy. There wasn’t anything better than this. Not even the blowjob felt as good as this is making him feel. Jungkook knows that it has nothing to do with your skills or anything of the sort, but because he loves the way you push and pull away from him. The more you run, the more he feels like chasing. He’s addicted to the strangled sounds that escape your lips, crying out loudly against your will. It was perfect!

You squeal when you feel him suckle on your sensitive bud, playing with it between his teeth. He’s almost tempted to bite, but he’s hurt his baby enough. “S good Noona, tastes like candy.”

His words vibrate inside your cunt and you already feel your climax coming in heavy. He was gonna drive you insane!

“Please… oh my god. Please. I can’t.” You swear you feel Jungkook smiling even as he’s eating you out, nose deep inside your cute little cunt. Guess that answers his question, you are definitely enjoying yourself way more than you should.

“You can baby, you fucking will.” He nearly growls into your folds, licking and eating everything he could swallow like a madman. Jungkook didn’t wanna stop until you had nothing more to give, until your pussy stopped oozing out that sweet essence. But it seems the more he licks, the more that squirts out!

Jungkook doesn’t mind though, not at all, not even one bit. He’ll eat your pussy until it kills him.

“Ohhhh, nhmmm fuck. I- Daddy, I’m cominggg.” He hears your fucked out slur and sucks harder on your clit, lapping at all the juices that kept drizzling down. He’s surprised to hear you call him Daddy, he didn’t ask you to, but you were so good for him either way. Jungkook didn’t need to ask anymore, you were so far gone to care about anything else when his tongue kept slipping inside your messy hole.

“Come on my tongue baby. Come for Daddy.” With a strangled cry you come and Jungkook feels the second you explode, because your pussy almost flushes out everything it can give him. He sucks it all up though and doesn’t stop until he feels you trembling under his touch, barely holding up. “Good, so good for me baby. God, I love you.”

Jungkook tosses his shirt aside because he’s grown super hot and looks down at your fucked out figure. All he did was eat pussy, imagine what else he could do with that humongous monster cock he drags around.

He didn’t fail to notice how pretty your tiny hole was from behind, both of them. Jungkook wanted to eat your ass too, but maybe that was for another time, when he gets the pleasure to focus on one at a time.

“Turn around for me baby.” The younger one softly speaks.

There’s a bit of a struggle, but you land on your back successfully and whine when you see his bare figure. Jungkook’s worked his ass off to get it. He’s so strong and shredded, but nonetheless, the sight of his sculpted body makes you drool nearly every time.

“Gonna put it in now.” The way he says it throws you off, he seems a bit embarrassed, shy maybe? And it doesn’t make sense because not even seconds ago, the younger was so confident about every little thing he was doing to you, ruining you entirely for anyone else.

“W-Wait.” You rush, pushing your hand against his chest. Jungkook freezes in place, his hand already wrapped around his cock. “Condom?”

And like that, he snaps again, those once innocent doe-eyes turn dark again and you regret even reminding him. “We won’t be needing that silly Noona, I’m gonna fuck a baby into you and you’re gonna be the perfect Mommy. Won’t you?”

You wanna shake your head so bad, your mind is screaming at you to say no, to fucking stop him before it’s too fucking late, but your body speaks for you. Your pussy keeps leaking your arousal and you can’t believe your reality. You want it so bad, you don’t really care what comes with the consequences of your actions. If your step-brother wants a baby, well then…

“Isn’t that right Noona? You’ll be the perfect Mommy.” Jungkook’s voice sounds sinister and you can barely recognize the person he is. “Daddy will take care of you both. Don’t you want that? Huh my love?”

With sick, deranged thoughts in your head, you slowly nod in agreement and Jungkook scrunches his nose into a sweet, kind smile. “Of course you do. You're the best Noona. Gonna fuck you now okay?”

You nod again. This time, you pry your legs open for him. Letting him use you the way he wants and needs. Jungkook licks his lips and takes his heavy cock in hand. Before he lines it up, he spits perfectly along his length, coating his dick all around so it could slide in without further complications and then he pushes the tip inside.

The minute you feel the intrusion, just the fucking tip, you gasp loudly, trembling into his surprisingly gentle touch.

“C-Can’t. Won’t fu—fit.” You say breaking between whimpers.

Jungkook’s gaze is dark and heavy on you and he gets right into your face when he whispers the next words. “Oh but you will. You already did.”

Just as you are about to question him, in one powerful blow, Jungkook thrusts himself all the way inside your tight velvety-walls and you run away from his hold.

And like always, there’s no point. Before you realize it, Jungkook’s pulling out and ramming back inside you. Doesn’t even seem bothered by the painful whines coming from your lips, his eyes are too focused on the way his cock disappears into your perfect pussy.

There was no better way to lose his virginity, Jungkook thought. This was exactly what he’s been fucking missing all his life.

The pain simmers eventually and it starts to feel overwhelmingly good. Your pained whimpers turn into high-pitched cries and Jungkook sticks his face into your neck, moaning roughly against your ear while he continues to work his way into your walls.

Jungkook will never, absolutely never, go back to his fists. The heat, natural slick, and tightness. His fists don’t even come close.

Skin is clapping on skin, brutally setting a rapid pace. His dick is so sensitive right now, he’s surprised he’s even lasted this long. Jungkook doesn’t even know how fucking long it’s been. Or if your guy's parents will come home soon. He doesn’t even give a fuck. You are his.

His to fuck. His to play with. And his to love.

“Gonna come so deep inside this pussy. Gonna make sure you end up swollen and pregnant once I’m done with you. Noona’s so tight.” He breathes heavily into your neck, sweat dripping from the younger.

His words start to rile you up for some reason. Do you even get a fucking choice? The dicking is almost that good you let yourself fall for a few seconds, allowing Jungkook to fuck into you like some fuck-doll.

Without thinking, you reach for his fluff of sweaty hair and tug. Hard. When he comes up to question you, you slap him so hard that his face snaps towards that direction.

Jungkook’s merciless pounding stills.

For a moment, all you hear is heavy breathing, yours mixed with his. It takes Jungkook a while to look back at you and when you do dare look into his eyes, all you see is dark, dark lust. Lots of it.

Jungkook pulls you in roughly from your throat for a bruising wet kiss. His cock slips from inside you and you whine into his mouth at the loss. You already want him back inside, you took it for granted.

The taller chuckles dryly, almost too sexy for his own good when he catches you grinding your folds desperately against his wet length. “Baby already misses Daddy’s dick. This is how it’s gonna be huh? Okay. I’ll play by your rules baby, don’t fucking say I didn’t warn you.”

You don’t even get the chance to catch your breath when you are already pressed face down into the mattress. Jungkook parts your fat ass, slides his cock between them and teases your sweet little hole menacingly.

Jungkook slaps his cock down a few times, the whole nine inches, right onto your dripping folds. They practically were screaming for attention and not to worry, Daddy was home. Slick would stick to his cock, maybe he should make you lick him clean.

“Why?” The younger one hears you crying softly.

“We’ve been over this Noona, only I’ll ever love you how you deserve to be loved. Stop worrying so much. Want you to come on Daddy’s cock. We’ll talk after m’kay?” Jungkook reasons and stabilizes the situation like if you have any choice in this and as if this wasn’t absolutely sick. “Let me take care of you Noona.”

The choice was made before you even realized it.

“Okay… but don’t— don’t come inside Jungkook. I’m not on birth control.” Seojun would always make use of a condom, you forgoing those hormonal-consuming pills. You don’t get to see this, but the younger one smiles wide like if you just gave him the green light. What you don’t know doesn’t harm you. One day, Jungkook thinks.

“Okay Noona, whatever you say.” Jungkook spits on his cock one last time before he carefully pushes back inside. The prodding feeling still leaves you in between sharp gasps and painful whines, ripping right through you.

“Oh my god… Jungkook- too big.” You grab your closest pillow nearly tearing through the thin fabric, using it to have something to tug and bite on.

“Yeahhh, but Noona takes it so well.” Jungkook moans when he feels you squeeze hard around him, basically watching your asshole wink at him too. “Fuck baby, maybe I should fuck this tiny hole too.”

You whimper when you feel his thumb brushing against the fluttering muscle, back arching into the frail sensation. “Mff—no please, I’ve n-never done it. Please.”

“Okay. Not today baby.” Not today or ever again you hope. You pray that whatever is happening today starts and ends today, but for now, you settle for that answer.

But the second Jungkook’s thumb leaves your delicate asshole, he grips onto the fat of your ass cheeks and starts mounting you from behind like an animal. The stretch still burns, not used to taking so much at once, but he can tell when it starts feeling equally as good for you because you squirm on his cock like a worm. He watches you pull away from him, but he’s gripping you hard, feeling that ass bounce back on him. Jungkook curses when he hears you start moaning into your pillows.

“Nu-uh, wanna hear it.” He pulls you by your throat, your back flushing against his sweaty rising chest. In this position, he’s reaching deeper inside your cunt, g-spot being constantly abused.

“Fuck-k-k, oh fuck —nghh.” Jungkook practically soaks in every noise that comes from your mouth, hips clapping hard into your ass. He takes the time to enjoy this, squeezing the fat that jiggles. Maybe he’ll convince you next time to let him fuck your tight ass. After all, he knows Noona could never say no to her sweetest dongsaeng.

The younger sucks more hickeys onto your skin, anywhere that he can really. Jungkook sucks one on the side of your neck, shoulder, and your back. He’s obsessed. Tomorrow he shall do the exact same thing, he’ll keep you on his cock forever now that he knows what it is like. Taehyung was so right. Sex was amazing.

“Let me hear you Noona, think I’ll come just like this.” Jungkook moans roughly in your ear as he continues to pump your walls full of cock, pussy dripping buckets around his length.

You let out moans like water, feeling his dick destroy your insides, he must have rearranged your guts by now. “Think—think m’ gonna come Daddy.”

Jungkook smirks, grabbing your chin roughly and kisses you sloppily, including tongue and all. He loves the sound of his name and title from your pouty, gasping mouth. “Fucked you so good baby doesn’t know if she’s coming or not. Daddy’s the best, isn’t he?”

“Ye–yeah Daddy.” You slur in a trippy haze and just like that, you’re dropped into the sheets again, and flipped with ease in his hold. Jungkook’s dick surprisingly doesn’t even slip out and you don’t know if you moaned again because of the feeling of his dick impaling your pelvic walls or because he can toss you around like some rag doll and have his way with you. Daddy’s the strongest.

Either way your moans are like sin, high pitched whimpers and incoherent mumbles coming from your plump lips like hushed prayers. “Gonna come Daddy, ‘m gonna come ‘s hard.”

“It’s okay baby. Come on Daddy’s cock. I got you.” Jungkook goes feral when he sees the way you practically convulsate on his dick, squirting all over yourself. He’s only ever seen this on those shitty videos Taehyung sends him and he warned him that it wasn't an easy thing to do, not unless done right and when the other person is really into it. Jungkook’s flying over the moon right now knowing that he’s the reason why you can’t help, but squirt messily all over his cock. “Perfect. Noona’s perfect.”

The taller grips your thighs for support, fucking you through your intense orgasm until your inner thighs are all covered in your silky juices, being pounded into overestimation. Jungkook is really close himself and he knows nothing would compare to coming deep inside your walls, but he should respect his Noona’s wishes, at least this once.

“Where should I come baby? Huh? Tell me.” Sweat accumulates on his forehead, dripping loads of it. Jungkook’s thighs burn from the same constant movement, practically bunny jackhammering into your pussy. He never imagined such a practice could be so tiring, he doesn’t even have to go work out tonight!

By this point, you are in and out of consciousness. Jungkook hasn’t stopped splitting you in two, your aching everywhere, but the feeling is mind-blowing. Not even Seojun could make you feel this good, not anyone.

You were in doubt. Jungkook had to have been experienced by the way he fucked. There’s not enough stamina to fuck the way he does. Jungkook’s a beast and he fucks like one too, using your cunt like a toy he can stick his dick into. Your pussy is stretched in ways unknown to man, perfectly molding around his cock, squeezing him in all the right ways. The more you feel his cock pressing into your pelvic floor, the more you start to realize, Jungkook belongs right here. Where he has been.

“Tell me baby. Want Daddy to come all over your pussy, give you a little facial? Tell me— fuck!” Jungkook’s pants grow hot and heavy, his orgasm approaching him hard. His cock is sensitive to the max, but he doesn’t stop, fucking you relentlessly through it all.

Another realization hits within that moment. It’s already gone to the point of no return. You’ve sucked your baby step-brother off and let him drop his seed in your mouth. He’s kissed and licked every part of your pussy, like any good boy would. You’ve let your dongsaeng use your most intimate parts for his own personal pleasure and the worst part is you’ve actually enjoyed it all. Selfishly, you decide he’s the only one that could ever be right for you. Jungkook had been right all along, he was made for you.

“Inside Daddy, wan— you inside.” Jungkook’s hips freeze as he hears you plead so prettily, tears streaming down your flushed face. God, he almost busts the moment he hears your honey-like voice begging for his release. “Please Daddy. Come inside muh— Noona’s pussy.”

“Yeah, want me inside baby?” He goes back to thrusting, but this time it’s slower, more precise and spot-on, deeper. You’ve completely lost awareness of time as well and maybe a sense of who you were to him. Jungkook fucking you senseless and watching you fall deeper into the heat of haze with no remorse or regret. After this, there was no more to discuss, you were completely his.

“Yeah— yeah wan it Daddy. Want it.” Jungkook happily complies, knowing you would come around if he just fucked you good enough to forget that you were off that horrid pill and that he could plant his ssed in your fertile little pussy and give you his child to bear.

His brows furrow as he concentrates on the mess between your legs, it’s beautiful and all his fucking fault. He wants to bury his head into it, but first, he’ll come deep inside that swollen pussy and finish you off. Jungkook takes a moment to adjust and starts jackhammering your cunt again, this time his only purpose is to plant his seed as deep as it can go, claiming even the most sacred parts. Birth control be fucked!

Jungkook’s thrust grow sloppy by the minute and you don’t know how much longer you can take until he’s fucked you completely faint. Mouth starting to feel parched, Jungkook attaches his lips to yours, kissing you through rough strokes. He devours your lips like honey and feels you start to clench around him again. He feels a little gash of juices trinkle along his slit and Jungkook realizes he’s made you come again by the way your walls clench around his cock.

“Fuck baby, Daddy’s gonna come inside now.” All you can do is nod between blacking out, not wanting to waste his precious, healthy come.

With one last growl, Jungkook’s coming deep. The last thing you remember is the heavy weight of Jungkook’s cock twitching and releasing the milky substance across your plushy warm inviting walls.

—-

“Hey honey, how was work today?” Your voice is soft and light as petals while you watch the food come to a boil on the stove, whisking it around and adding a bit more salt for taste while you wait for your husband’s response.

“Fine baby. Had a long meeting with one of our staff members about missing numbers, but the problem was taken care of.” Your husband’s voice is manly and smooth all around, almost husky-like. He goes to kiss your delicate cheek, watching your eyes flutter as he wraps hulky arms around you, bringing your back flush to his front. “Hope you haven’t been on your feet all day, my love. You should be resting, my love.”

You smile at your caring husband, enjoying his musky scent and broad body. “Of course not babe, I’m almost done with the stew. Help me grab a bowl?”

“Mm.” Your husband hums and retreats to grab a bowl from a cabinet that is far too high for your reach with a quick pat to your ass, giving it a quick squeeze. “This one okay baby?”

“Yeah!”

The taller comes back with the empty bowl and you are quick to serve the steamy stew into the dish, always making sure your husband comes home to a warm homemade meal after his long days at work. He watches you from afar admiring the beauty and power his precious wife holds.

You barely had time to pamper yourself today, but you managed to clean up well. Your hair was in a beautiful half-up half-down pony with the cutest white bow attached. Your makeup was perfect, a little bit of everything to fix the small imperfections you saw in the mirror earlier. And the most perfect little flowy dress with flowers decorating the material to fit your current body shape. You were absolutely perfect. An angel drawn to Earth.

“You’re so beautiful baby.” Jungkook whispers into your ear, tickling your neck with his cool breath. “Smell so good.”

“That’s the food.” You both laugh a bit, a hand cupping your swollen stomach pressing himself against your back-end yet again. The feeling was alike anything. He was starting a whole new life alongside the center of his entire world. Jungkook was the happiest he could ever be.

“Nu-uh, that’s all you. Although, the food does smell impeccable. My tastebuds are craving for something else. Can’t wait to eat you—”

“Stop!” Jungkook laughs as you wack his hands away from your belly and continue to serve his bowl full.

“Okay, okay.” Jungkook takes his bowl and waits for you at the dining table, you follow closely behind and sit beside him. “Thank you, Noona.”

You don’t get to hear that word often these days, mainly because it reminds you both of your previous relationship, but the younger one lets it slip from time-to-time, still as sweet as before, always by your side and doing his absolute best to please and look after you and the new addition.

Coming from a broken family, Jungkook never imagined a life could be so simple and beautiful. Lately, Jungkook’s life is like a movie. He can’t believe this all belongs to him, what more can a man ask for. He has the kindest, most beautiful wife and she bears his healthy infant in her huge pregnant tummy. He owns a huge house, working his ass off to get it and established himself pretty early in his career, buying his wife only the best of things. Jungkook settled only for the best and he found that besides you, a true happily ever after, if you will.

The rest is simply history, unimportant through your eyes. The only thing that mattered now is that you were both happy and extremely loved.

The end!

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x noona #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x y/n #jungkook smut #dead dove do not eat #jungkook fanfic #jungkook oneshot

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ja3hwa · 4 months

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♡ 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐬 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐉𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 ♡

【Synopsis】 : Your boyfriend just wanted to give you an early Christmas present.

『Word count』 : 5.3k

-> Genre: Pure smut with little plot, hehe.

Pairing: Boyfriend!San x Reader [SeongJoong x Reader]

[Warnings] : Reader is insecure. Foursome. Powerplay. Pet names [Angel, Bunny, Baby, Sweet Thing.] Light Choking. Kissing, Neck kisses. Body worship. Anxious thoughts. Some self-doubt, but the boys take lots of care of the reader. Possessive San. Voyeur San. Seonghwa likes to call reader whore but in a sweet way. Spanking. Dom!SeongSanJoong. Unprotected sex. Very subby Reader. Subspace. Dry humping. Oral. Use of the word slut. Daddy kink. MxM. San is secretly a switch/bottom. Creampie. Multiple orgasms. Squirting. Brat taming. Sharing is caring. Dirty talk. Deep throating. I was drunk when I wrote half of this, so bare with me...

Note: Hi, Hi! Ahh, this fic is finally done. Hehe. I spent early hours in the morning, and one night after, i drank way too much vodka heh. So if there is anything weird. Uhh, blame drunk me. Also! This is most likely the last fic I'll be posting for 2023. So that's crazy. I'll still be around but I'm going to a wedding, so I won't be near my computer. Ahhh

Also, thank you so much to the wonderful @fandems for helping make this masterpiece come to life. I hope you enjoy the read, darling. ♡♡

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“Okay, okay. I’ll be there soon.” You hummed hearing your boyfriend whine about how much he misses you and how he wanted to see you try on the hoodie in person. He and the others were currently staying at some hotel just outside Seoul for a shoot they were doing, and his mom had brought hoods she made with each of their names on it. Of course, she made one for you as well. Saying it was not up for debate even though you tried to decline, saying it was just ‘for the boys’.

“Please hurry. I miss you so much.” His blunt whimpers caused a stir in your tummy when you first heard them. You had to stop yourself from complaining about how he was making you wet from his voice alone. So, instead, you thought it would be cute to dress up a bit. Wear something a little more revealing. A nice crop top and shorts. Yes, that was a nice idea. Of course, since it was cold out and you weren't about to walk around Seoul in next to nothing anyways, so, you covered yourself with a large overcoat that draped all the way for to your knees. It was an early Christmas gift from Hongjoong. Which made your heart flutter when he gave it to you. You didn’t expect a gift from any of the members, really. But when Hongjoong brought you the gift while you were cuddling with San on the couch in the studio, you couldn’t help but blush. Or another time when he and Seonghwa brought you food when you were sick when they dropped off San at your apartment. Or when it was just the four of you chilling out at your place while watching a random film.

Everything just felt right.

You tried to hide your feelings towards the other two men, but it was growing harder after each interaction. They were so kind to you. They cared for you. And it made you feel like you were on cloud nine when they were around. San has made jokes in the past about you having a crush on his members, but you always brushed it off so he wouldn't feel bad. You love San, you really do. He was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. But there was just something about Hongjoong and Seonghwa that you just couldn’t shake.

“Okay, I’m out the front. I’m gonna hang up now,” you said goodbye quickly before heading for the entrance of the hotel. San had already mentioned to the front desk clerk that you would show up, so they had a key waiting for you and everything. Standing in the elevator, you suddenly felt your nerves tingle. What if he just wanted to cuddle for a bit, give you the gift, and then kick you out. Or worse.. what if San wasn’t in the mood for some dirty antics?

Who are you kidding, he’s always in the mood.

But that still didn’t calm your shaky hands as you reached for the door handle while you scanned the key card against the lock. The room was silent.. the smell of musk caught your attention, making it known San had recently showered using the new body wash you had bought him. “H-Hello.”

You walked inside, locking the door behind you. Slipping off your shoes, you also placed your coat on the rack next to the entrance. Feeling the warmth of the hotel heating creep up on you. You walked slowly further into the little apartment. The only light was the ones from the city below and a side light next to a bed. Strange? “S-Sannie? Are you here…”

“Hello, angel.” A deep chuckle caught you off guard as a pair of hands gripped your waist suddenly. The light gasps that left your lips made the unknown male sigh in satisfaction, nuzzling his nose into your neck. You know his cologne. This voice. That chuckle.

“J-Joong?” You were shaking, but not out of fear but excitement. You felt like you had walked straight into a dream. A different reality even. You had to kick yourself for falling so quickly for the man who wasn’t your lover. Your eyes snapped open, and a breath was hitched. What were you doing?! you couldn’t do this. Not when you were with San. “Wait. Hongjoong.” You tried to pull out of Joong’s tight grasp, your voice sounding more stern and clear.

“awe, come on, Angel. I’m only playing.” He let you go suddenly, letting the tension of your hips push you forward, tripping, until you slammed into something broad. A tall, warm body. Your hands gripped the man's shoulders while he pulled you flushed against his chest by your waist.

“S-San…” You whimper, feeling guilt cloud your judgment. Hot breath tickled your ear lobe before a deep voice sent shivers down your spine;

“Guess again, Bunny.” Your body completely tenses up hearing Seonghwa’s sombre smooth voice. The same voice he uses when he makes the calming ASMR videos. God, you could fall asleep peacefully to this man just simply talking. Or humming. Wait, no, stop.

“W-Where’s San. He needs to give m-me─A personalized hoodie.” Your words get cut off by none other than your lover, San. His ravenous chuckle made your mouth water. What were these three trying to do to you? Send you into an early grave. “I thought we could have a little fun before I give you the gift.”

You can hear lusts dripping from his voice. But yet you still couldn’t see anything. Your eyes have not adjusted to the dark room, but San was clearly behind you while your face and body were still firmly against Seonghwa’s chest. “We want the city to see just how good you can be.” Seonghwa sounded more dominant than San. His alluring aura made you want to stink to your knees and do whatever he wished. You were trembling against him, which he no doubtfully felt. And without a word being spoken. He let you go, leaving you standing, alone, in the dark. You were about to protest when all of a sudden you felt familiar arms snake around you, pulling you flush against him. San nuzzled his face in your neck, giving you some light kisses, trying his best to calm your nerves.

In truth, San, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong had many conversations about you. One more dirtier than the last. It first started with San gloating about how you were so good for him. How you would walk around in nothing but his hoodies and how he always got a nice look at your plump ass. Another time, he brought up the fact that you were an excellent dick sucker. He swore he could nut just from your mouth alone. This, of course, made the other men jealous. How dare San have you all to himself when they all know very well the way you look at them. The way your thighs clench whenever Hwa or Joong would accidentally touch you. You were just as needy as they were. “You gonna be a good girl, baby?”

San’s lips latched onto your neck, sucking a harsh purple mark. You still couldn’t see your surroundings, but you could feel, other than San's hands that were still on your waist, another pair of hands gripped a hand full of your plump thighs. You felt a whimper brew in your throat as San’s hands snaked up towards your chest, letting his fingertips graze just under your breasts. The unknown male's set of hands that were still perched on your thighs slowly moved upwards until they were tugging your legs apart, slowly tugging your shorts off. The dark chuckle from below made you realize the man who was holding your legs was crouched in front of you. With his head so close to where you need care the most. “S-Sann..”

“Uh, Uh. Answer the question, baby. Are you going to be a good girl for all three of us?” His hot breath tickled your earlobe, making your mind spin. Your hand reached down, finding a soft head of fluffy locks, your fingers tangling in them, pulling him closer to your heated core. Your other hand grasps San’s shoulder, pushing him towards your neck once more.

“Please, sir.” You whined loudly, earning a groan from all three men, making you realize the last male was also standing behind you. San mutters something you didn’t bother listening to as suddenly felt a set of teeth bite down on your inner thigh, making you gasp in a high pitch. “Oh my god!”

The man between your legs snickered, pulling your panties to the side so he could press his nose against your soaked cunt. “That’s right bunny. I’m your god.” Seonghwa’s voice was so deep, filling with lust at each breath. You had to moan from his words, knowing full well how much of a god complex Seonghwa had. Your fingers tugged tighter on his hair, earning a low growl from that man. You were about to say something but your voice got caught in your throat as San’s hand wrapped perfectly around your neck, squeezing tight enough that it got your head spinning.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t a god Seonghwa.” San’s cheeky mumble caused the man between your legs to huff, rolling his eyes as he went back to licking a strip along your fold. His fingers play with your entrance, pushing his tongue against your sensitive clit making you gasp out yet again, ‘Oh my god’, which made Seonghwa chuckle lowly.

“She says differently there, Sannie.” The vibration of Seonghwa’s voice made you clench around his lone finger. San’s hand got tighter around your neck, pulling you backwards so you were bent in a weird position, looking at San with a shocked expression.

“Baby. Don’t start being a brat. I’m your sir, and this is Hwa and Joong. Go it!” He spat out, annoyance lacing on his tongue. Your hazy eyes looked up at him with sorrow. You pouted slightly, knowing exactly how to play San’s games.

“I’m sorry, sir. Please forgive me.” You whimpered trying to keep your eyes open but it was becoming increasingly harder as you feel Seonghwa add another finger into your wet pussy. San just scoffed before telling Seonghwa to move. You cried from the loss of contact but since Hwa is such a people pleaser, he slowly kissed up your body, collar and neck before whispering in your ear;

“Don’t worry my obedient little whore. I’ll treat you soon enough.” San didn’t respond this time, just scoffing before letting you go. Your knees buckled trying to keep yourself upright. But a new pair of hands grabbed you, letting you lean against a hard chest.

“Hey there, angel, ready for some fun?” Hongjoong’s voice was higher pitched than the others, but it still held the same authority if not more. You nodded with a quick ‘yes’ letting the male chuckle at how obedient you are. San had turned on the bedside lamps, letting the dim orange hue shine through the room, letting you see the three men for the first time tonight. Seonghwa’s hair was a mess from your fingers, lips glistening from your slick. God, as if he couldn’t get any more hot, there he was in all his egotistical glory.

“Baby. Stand you for us. And take off your shirt.” San said, nonchalantly, while downing a glass of liquor from the dry bar in the corner of the hotel room. You gulp slowly, taking off your shirt, leaving you in your bra. You became all too aware that you were only in your underwear in front of three very powerful men. You weren’t the thinnest either, so your insecurities started being placed on full alert. Seonghwa seemed to notice first, moving so he was flushed against you, chest to chest. he gave you the warmest smile before dipping his head in closer. His nose was grazing against yours, his lips almost close enough to touch. You had no idea if you were allowed to kiss him or Hongjoong, but given his face was between your legs only minutes ago, what harm would it entail?

Seonghwa gave you a surprised groan as he felt your plump lips. His tongue slipped effortlessly into your mouth like it was made to do just that. You could taste yourself on him, which caused a whimper to escape. His hands gripped your bare hips tightly, holding you so close that you could feel his bulge against your thigh. San was watching the situation unfold in front of him, biting his bottom lip at just how submissive you can quickly become around the three of them. How almost normal it felt. San gave a little whistle for Hongjoong to join in, while he took a seat on a large seat that sits by the window, gifting him the perfect view of the show you were so eagerly putting on.

“Play nice with her. Or I’ll never let you touch her again.” San’s voice was stern and controlling. But man, did it make you shiver. You knew if you wanted to be rough or slow you would use your safe word or the traffic light system and you were also damn sure that San drilled it into the other two’s heads before this little ordeal. So you knew you were in a completely safe environment, and this was all for the thrill.

“You hear that, Bunny. Sannie thinks we can’t play nice.” Seonghwa mumbles against your lips before moving down to kiss your cheek, jaw, and neck.

“He thinks we’re gonna get too rough with you.” Hongjoong grabs a fist full of your breasts squeezing tightly, drawing out a choked moan from you. His lips grazed your ear before biting softly on your ear lobe. Your nerves felt like they were on fire with the way these two tag teamed you. Like they had practised many times for this moment. “But you like it rough don’t you, angel?”

“Yeah, you like it when you're manhandled. Thrown around like a pleasure whore. Hmm?” Seonghwa nipped at your collarbone causing a yelp to escape you. The two of them just chuckled, knowing exactly how to tease you from hearing detail after detail of San explaining how much of a subby little fuck toy you are for him.

"Please, Da-Hongjoong... touch me." You whimpered, almost calling him something other than his name. Even though San said not to call them anything other than what he gave you. Yet you had the biggest urge to disobey.

"But am I touching you, angel?" Hongjoong knew what he was doing. He needed you to break, spill all your dirty secrets out before he touched you. But Seonghwa, on the other hand, all he wanted to do was make you squirm until overdrive. His hands gripping at any part of exposed flesh, his hot tongue licking along your neck, while he suckles yet another red and purple mark. You were most certain that you had leaked through your panties and down your leg by now. Your brain clouded, and all judgement slipped slowly into your subspace as two pairs of lips find the most sensitive spots on your neck and collarbone.

“F-Fuckk.” You swore, tilting your head back against Hongjoong’s shoulder. Seonghwa’s hand dipped into the top of your panties siding his fingers down through your soaking cunt. Hongjoong on the other hand, tugged on your bra until your breasts spilled out the top of it. His fingers pinched your peaked nipples while Seonghwa start to slowly fuck two fingers in you, stretching you out nicely. Both men didn’t stop their assault on your neck, littering your skin with bright marks and bites. You hazily hummed, opening your eyes to see San sitting with his lips parted and his hand palming his crotch. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Such a potty mouth, Bunny.” Seonghwa laughed pushing a third finger inside you while his palm rests on your clit perfectly. “I wonder what other filthy things you can say sweet things.”

“Oh, she can say many filthy things.” San’s voice made you jump, not realizing you had your eyes closed and San had moved to stand next to you, completely trapping you in the middle of all three of them. “You just gotta know what buttons to press.”

San gripped Seonghwa’s wrist, tugging it out of your cunt making you yelp. His hands grabbed your hips before literally ripping your panties to shreds, letting the pieces of fabric fall to the floor. San’s hand gave your ass cheek as loud, harsh slap making you fall forward towards the perfectly made bed. “Come on baby. Shake that pretty thing for us.” You lazily wiggle your ass, letting the three men stare at your plump cake and leaking cunt. You felt humiliated in the best way possible, wanting nothing but the approval of the men behind you.

San stood behind you, pressing his clothed crotch against your ass, grinding slowly. You choked, feeling the rough fabric of his pants against your skin. His fingers gripping your waist tight enough, it threatened to draw blood, while his hips pulled away before snapping back on your ass. He was thrusted against you dry. Railing you up, causing you to slip into your subspace. “What do you need, baby? Tell us what you want.” He thrusted with. Every. Word.

“I w-wan…” You whimper, feeling tears swell in your eyes, your fingers tangling into the white sheets. “I want you, sir, please.”

A sharp pain shot down your nerves as you felt Sans's hand smack your ass. “You can do better. What. Do. You. Want. Slut.” He pushed two fingers into your pussy making you cry out, shaking at the sudden pleasure.

“I-I want cock please sir. I want to be fucked so badly.” All three men groaned at your filthy cry. Not just asking for San but to just be fucked in general. “I want to be full so badly.”

“See, what wasn’t so hard now, was it.” San snaked his fingers in your hair, yanking your head upwards. You yelped at the slight pain, your arms shaking, trying your best to keep yourself up. “Now the real question is. Which cock you want first?”

“Daddy…” You gaze at the two men standing by the window on your left-hand side. Seonghwa’s eyebrow raised while Hongjoong had the most sadistic smile you’d ever seen. San looked over to them, confused for a moment, feeling a little bit of rage but yet a hint of curiosity. Hongjoong scoffed, clicking his tongue before he started to undo his belt. San tugged you by the hair, so you were standing completely straight up. His hot breath against your earlobe before he gave your ass one more final slap, then squeeze. If you were going to play a bratty game. Then a bratty game it shall be.

“Okay, baby. You want his cock, then you can have it…” His hand snaked back around your throat choking you harshly. “But if you call him daddy one more time, I’ll grab that vibrator I know you have in your backpack and leave it on you until you learn your lesson. Got it.”

You nodded like an idiot, whining just wanting to be filled. But at the same time, San’s empty threat sounded so very tempting. Sadly, before you could say anything, San twisted you around until you fell on your back on the bed. Hongjoong was on you in seconds. His face is inches from you, with the same sadistic smile painted on it. “Hi there Angel…” He kissed your cheek before whispering in your ear. “Don’t worry, Darling, Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.” His voice was low enough that San would only be able to hear mumbles, which caused him to roll his eyes with what felt like the millionth time tonight. Seonghwa, of course, noticed, letting out a laugh.

“Lighten up, Sannie. Share some of the reins. It’ll be more enjoyable.” Seonghwa grabbed the younger male's shoulders, pushing his fingers into his deep neck tissue, feeling his muscles so tense and tight. San closed his eyes for a moment, finally relaxing against the older man. You watched the whole situation unfold, making your head spin. The boys all cared for one another so much and looked out for one another. You felt your heart swell.

“Hey, eyes on me, sweet thing. I want you to look at me while I ruin you.” Your gaze snapped back to him instantly, biting your lip while your brows knitted together. You felt his cock rubbed against your dripping folds, making you forget the other two that stood next to the window. “That’s it, baby. Deep breath.”

You did as you were told, taking in a sharp breath as you felt Hongjoong ease inside you. He wasn’t as long as San, but his girth was something else. He felt like you were being stretched to the breaking point, turning your already mushy brain into more mush if that was even possible. “Hongjoong!!”

His pace was unforgiving, snapping his hips against you without a second thought. He did not wait for you to get used to him, making his thrust mix with the best kind of pain and pleasure. Your mouth hung open with drool pooling on your right side while you moan uncontrollably. You tried your best to keep your eyes open but the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you was making it hard. You didn’t even notice the bed dipping until you saw a washed-out red hair sitting above you. He leaned down giving you a drawn-out kiss while Hongjoong’s hips snapped against you with fury and determination as he fell forward to case your right nipple in his hot mouth. You felt like you were going to explode within seconds. “You gonna cum for Joong bunny?”

Seonghwa’s voice stirred you forward feeling a sharp burn snap in your gut as his fingers attach to your clit and his lips to your nipple. You’ve never felt so overstimulated in one moment, having three pairs of hands groping, squeezing and teasing any and all parts of your body. Three mouths licking, sucking, and biting you like you were their last meal on earth. You couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the sudden gush of liquid that slipped out of you, screaming into San’s mouth, sounding like a pathetic porn star. “Fuck did you just squirt?” Hongjoong was the first to speak slowing his thrusts for a moment.

“She did, look the bed is covered.” Seonghwa chuckled.

“Such a good girl. Now you gonna take Joongie’s cum hmm?” San didn’t need to see the other two men’s expressions to know their excitement just grew about a million percent. Hongjoong had to snap his cock back inside you just at the thought.

“Really San? You’ll let us come in your girl?” Hongjoong sounded like he was asking a completely mundane question and not currently balls deep inside of you. San gave you one slap quick peck on the lips as if he was checking in on you without needing to say anything. He could see the sparkle in your eyes, giving him the okay to answer.

“Oh course. Sharing is caring.”

Everything happened so fast. You couldn’t even tell whose hands were whose. Your body was flipped around until your legs dangled on the end of the bed and Hongjoong was back pushing into your sensitive puffy pussy. He crossed his arms over to grab your hips, holding you firmly as he fucked you hard, quick and desperately. Trying to chase his own high. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” Hongjoong was so close he just needed a little more, just a little push. And then you clenched hard around him, feeling you about to come again making him choke as he suddenly stop his thrusts, spilling his hot cum deep into your cunt. “Oh fuck. This is the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

“I know, right? And no matter how many times you fucker her. She’s still so needy.” San prided himself in his stamina and when he found out you could go for multiple rounds, it was like a match made in heaven. “Step aside, Joong, I need to feel my baby's cunt.”

A panting Hongjoong pulled out of you slowly, feeling you clench. He groaned, seeing his cum mix with yours as it spilled out of your pussy and down your leg. San was quick to pull you up, walking you over to the chair by the window. He sat down letting you fall onto his lap. You whined, fingers tangling into his shirt. “T-too clothed sir.”

“Hmm, what’s that doll? Am I too clothed for you?” San giggled, tilting his head back as you nodded your head. he held your face, kissing you deeply while mumbling against your lips, “Okay then, baby.”

He turned you around in his lap so your back was against his chest. Your gaze scanned the room seeing Hongjoong laying down on the couch, his cock stuffed by him his sweats but Seonghwa on the hand was stalking his way towards you and San, tugging his shirt off. Neither man had to say another word as San tilted you forward, making you place your hands on his knees. Your face was eye leveled with Seonghwa’s aching clothed crotch, while you could hear San remove his clothes. Seonghwa grabbed your chin, making you look up between your lashes at the older male. His smirk sent shivers down your spine, “Gonna let me fuck your mouth like a good obedient little whore?”

“Yes, please, Sir.” A loud slap echoed in the room as you let out a yelp. San’s hand rubs your raw ass, smoothing your hot skin.

“What d-did I say?” San growled.

You looked over your shoulder quickly, seeing San’s eyes were almost pitch, pooling with lust. You gave him a small simple smile before looking back to Seonghwa. “Please. May I please have your cock… Sir.”

“Fucking brat.” San stood up, gripping your hips tightly, bending you so you could place your hands on the arms of the chair. San gave your ass another harsh slap making you cry, tears swelling down your cheeks. “You want to be a brat. I’ll fuck you like one.”

He sunk into your cunt in one swift motion, knocking the wind right out of your lungs. You screamed, dropping your head while you moaned San’s name over and over against with each sharp, brutal thrust. Your nails dug into the chair, eyes shut tight. Every nerve in your body was on fire, feeling San’s big cock abuse your cervix. “Fuck, sir! Please. So big. Fuck. So full.”

“What? Cock drunk already? Too stupid to form a sentence anymore?” San mocked you, placing a hand on your shoulder, while the other stayed firmly on your hip. He pushed you up slightly, whistling slightly. You didn’t understand what was going on but the next thing you knew was feeling Seonghwa take a seat on the chair in front of you, his hard cock lying against his bare chest. Your eyes grew wide, he was longer and thicker than Hongjoong and San.

“Open wide, Bunny.” You gazed up at him for a moment, seeing a smirk painted on his perfect face. You spread your legs wider, so you’d be levelled with Seonghwa. San let go of your shoulder, stilling his hips so you could take Seonghwa’s cock in your mouth. You tried your best not to gag, gripping tightly onto his thighs while San started to grind his cock against you again once you could take at least half of him. “Fuck. Your mouth feels so good Bunny. So warm.”

“Oh, Just wait-fuck..till you feel her cunt.” San smirked.

“Like I said best pussy I’d ever had.” Hongjoong laughed from afar, most likely still on the bed, watching. Seonghwa threw his head back losing himself in the feeling of your mouth, while San’s thrusts began to get unstable feeling his orgasm creeping closer. He snaked a hand under you to rub your clit, trying to get you to come first. He needed you to come first, he needs to feel you let go and cream around his cock before he could pump you full.

“Come on baby, can you... f-fuck, can you cum for me. I need you to let go, baby.” San was mumbling, losing himself with the feeling of your soaked cunt clenching around his aching cock. You were crying around Seonghwa’s cock, making the vibration down his shaft cause him to buck his hips into you. Everything is so overwhelming, being filled by two men at the same time, while both being lost in pleasure from the feeling of your body. It made you dizzy as he squirted all over San, legs shaking and knees buckling. San came soon after, holding your hips in place so you wouldn’t fall. He swore, feeling his cum leak out around his cock as all the liquid pooled on the floor.

“Fuck, Bunny.” Seonghwa gripped your shoulders, tugging you off himself. San slipped out of you, sidestepping to take Seonghwa’s place in the chair, racking his hands through his sweaty, wet hair. Seonghwa manhandled you to lean against the window. Your nipples chilling to the cold temperature of the glass. Your hands sat flat on the window as Seonghwa laced his fingers with yours. He slowly glided his cock through your dripping folds before sinking right into your sensitive cunt with a groan. His pace was slow, calculated. You’ve never had a cock as big as Seonghwa and it was hitting all the right spots perfectly with each thrust. It didn’t take you long to feel the tinge in your gut again, already so oversensitive from being fucked twice already.

“Sir please I’m gonna cum again.” you completely forgot about San’s rule but no one seemed to notice except for Seonghwa, which made his ego grow more than he’d like to admit. Fucking your hard against the glass for all the city to see...

“Well go on. Cum like a little whore on my cock bunny. Cum while watching the city lights.” Seonghwa’s filthy words were just the right amount to send you over the edge, clamping down hard on his cock. He pulled out of you mid-high causing your body to shake in pain but you didn’t have any time to say anything, as he pushed right back in with a harsh slam, biting down on your shoulder.

You screamed. He came quicker than he would have liked, but the feeling of your cunt was too much for him. Everything went still, the only thing heard was heavy panting and racing hearts. Your mind was too hazy to register the two men helping you to the bed, laying you down where Hongjoong had been. You vaguely could see all three of them standing half-dressed and a mess, at the end of the bed, staring at you. They all thought how beautiful you looked and how well you did for them. And from that day on they knew their relationship with you was going to be completely different and none of them minded one bit.

San might have also ‘forgotten’ the next morning to give you the personalized hoodie so you would have to go back and get it. But not before himself, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong had another round with you.

- ♡

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