#I never finished watching it really but I based off the way their kitchen worked with this fic

[simpjaes]

PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM (l.hs)

You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off. 

៸៸៸ minors do not interact!

៸៸៸ simp gamer ! lee heeseung x afab reader 

 ៸៸៸ wc: 30k

 ៸៸៸ tags: smut, sister’s boyfriend trope, exhibitionism and voyeurism, dom heeseung, he is also unemployed lol, gaming antics, discord streaming, sexting, sex bets, shameless behavior, food mentions, alcohol use, implied sickness due to said alcohol, jake, sunghoon, and jay as the gamer friends who have a bet going. also the guys who get to watch….kind of. 

 ៸៸៸ !WARNINGS!: cheating/infidelity, dubcon-ish at one instance, heeseung is mean and manipulative. instances where jake, jay, and sunghoon take advantage of a situation where reader is drunk (conversation based), the reader can be lifted, visibly marked, has hair that can have fingers ran through it, and blushes visibly.

 ៸៸៸ a/n: this fic was written for heeseung's gf @drunkhazed! i really loved the idea, as you can see, i kind of went crazy with it. i hope it lives up to your imagination but maybe not idk. you better love it anyway oomfie, bc i loved writing it for u. this fic was briefly edited but likely still has a million typos and grammar errors.

៸៸៸ nsfw tags below

៸៸៸ nsfw tags: 10” heeseung, dubcon-ish at one instance,  masturbation, pillow humping, cum eating, degradation, hentai watching, sexting, sex on camera, blow job, voyeurism, exhibitionism, deep penetration, cream pie, breeding, blood and spit, one mention of piss but no actual piss (form of degradation), fingers down your throat.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Walking into an empty room has never felt so freeing, especially in knowing this is your space. Safe from your parents, bare and ready to be adorned with all of the things you hold dear to you. What’s even better? It’s bigger than your room back home, and you even have a little attached bathroom of your own. 

Life is great. You think studying here will ease your mind and allow you to graduate top of your class by the time it’s all over and done with. If you could kiss your sister, you would, really. 

You remember being kids and the two of you promising that when you grow up, you’d live together and never grow apart. After actually growing up though, she finished her degree and went off on her own, leaving you by yourself with no one to get you through the hardships of becoming a college student yourself.

With her working full time for several years and you struggling your own way to the top, she really did follow through with that young childhood promise. 

“Why don’t you come live with me through college? I’m sure it would be easier than living with all those rules.” 

You didn’t even think twice and had your bags packed a single day after the invitation. You stayed up all night getting it done, emptying your childhood room filled with both good and bad memories. Alas, you did have to wait until the spring semester was over though. Thankfully, you were only sleeping in a packed up room for about a week.

You find yourself here now, with your sister lovingly making lunch in the kitchen while her boyfriend, who you have only met briefly at holiday gatherings, stays in the office-turned-gaming room hooting and howling over some game he’s playing.

“Don’t mind him.” She half-smiles when he doesn’t immediately head for the kitchen, making her own plate and moving to the table with a sense of annoyance. “He’ll be out in a bit, it’s a pretty normal occurrence.” 

“You don’t think it’s rude?” You furrow your brows now, automatically assuming that your sister deserves a man willing to work just as much as she does. Still, you don’t entirely mind that you weren’t forced into an official meeting of the man of the house first thing when you walked in.

“Nah, not really. Been dating him for years, I knew what I signed up for when I moved him in.” She smiles while shaking her head, seemingly accepting all of his positives and negatives.

“Does he not have a job?” You pry, picking at your plate and trying to memorize his actual name because for a little while, you really started to wonder if his name was just a variation of “honey” and “babe”. Thankfully not. 

“He’s looking for one.” She says, looking at you and trying to read your judgment. “Before you say anything, he has money. Or–well, his parent’s have money. They pay his half of the rent right now.”

You shrug, noting that she really does seem happy and you’d be the best person to judge her level of fulfillment outside of herself anyway. You trust that she picked the right man, even if he’s still screaming in the other room with an empty stomach. 

“By the way…” She says with a wicked smile, one that you remember growing up with. The other end of that smile always ends with some sort of…antic. “We’re throwing you a welcome party this weekend. Inviting all of our friends too, so it’s easier for you to start being social on this side of town.”

You would groan, but growing up in your childhood home with your parents never came with parties. No birthdays at home, no sleepovers, nothing. Hell, they wouldn’t even allow you to attend other parties as a child, and going to college parties was out of the question.

The only party you ever attended was during the time you snuck out. They made damn sure you never snuck out again after that mishap as well. 

“Oh, really?” You chew and speak at the same time, not minding your manners at all considering you can get away with it now. “Is there gonna be alcohol?” 

“Oh, yes, yes.” She smiles again. “Gonna give you a proper party since, you know.”

You nod to her and you both laugh together at the found freedom you share, and then, well, the king of screaming like a toddler walks in. His hair looks like shit, an indent at the top of the messy locks indicating that he must have had his headset on for a long fucking time. Loose shirt with the sleeves pushed up, eyes sleepy and red, probably burning from the sunlight coming through the windows, and some sort of smile on his face. He looks at his girlfriend with that tired smile, about to thank her for the meal, then his eyes trail to you.

“Oh fuck–” His hands raise to run his fingers through his hair, then both rest on the back of his neck as he lets out a big sigh. “Was that today?” 

You give him the side eye of all side eyes at this moment. Reminding yourself how you and your sister spent all morning hauling your stuff in without his help. She also did say he would have put together your desk, dresser, shelf, and bed frame by the time you got here. Well, he didn’t.

“Yep.” She pops the p on the end of her word indicating passive aggressive annoyance. 

“Shit.” He mumbles under his breath, placing his empty plate right back into the cupboard and making his way to your room. “I’ll do it now. I’m sorry babe.” 

Your sister nods triumphantly, watching your look of surprise in reaction to the way he instantly appears to fix his mistake without more than a single word from her. 

“He knows when he fucks up. He was supposed to do it yesterday but as you can see, he hasn’t left his PC since like, nine o’ clock last night.” She shrugs.

You laugh, furrowing your brow at her. 

“I really didn’t expect him to be so lazy, sis, I always figured you’d be dating a doctor or something.” 

She brushes off her shoulders with a proud look, leaning towards you with a smile. 

“He was working a really good job but I could see how unhappy he was. I’m giving him a year or two to figure himself out. He’s been back and forth trying new things, hasn’t quite landed on anything he likes yet though.” 

She is a fucking saint. Honestly, Heeseung might be the luckiest man in the world to have a woman willing to do such a thing for him. 

“Woah,” You start, taking a sip of your water. “He’s trying to make it as a streamer right now, I take it?”

She shakes her head with an eye roll.

“Not really, he’s just always spent as much free time as possible playing but, I trust that he’ll figure something out sooner rather than later.” 

And you pry for a while longer. Learning about all of the things your sister and Heeseung do together, learning about her friends and his friends, the rules of the house, and the not-rules of the house. For instance, you’re allowed to bring home hook-ups or dates if you give a fair warning so she doesn’t have to hear it. However, the food in the fridge is for the house occupants only, and people need to ask before opening the cupboards and filling their plates. Of course, unless there is a party. 

Another rule, which was a bit too much information but you figure it’s fair since everyone here is an adult. She and Heeseung apparently have a pretty active sex life and apologized in advance for some of the things you may end up hearing. She also noted that there will be ear plugs if you need them, but that she suggests throwing on some headphones and ignoring it. Fair enough, it’s her house anyway. 

And after a few hours pass, Heeseung makes his way out of your room with a smile on his face. You remember seeing him maybe two or three times during the holidays but he never mingled with you. He never mingled with anyone, actually. He tended to keep to himself, with his loose fitting outfits always sticking out in the awkward family photos that your sister would sneak him into. That’s all you can really recall about him. 

It is kind of strange seeing him in his natural habitat of your sister’s house. Already, you’ve seen more personality in him than you ever did during the brief meetings. It’s kind of nice to see him proudly nodding his head to your bedroom as if to invite you in properly like he should have done hours ago when you arrived. He took it upon himself to rearrange the room for maximum space. Arguably, you’re impressed. 

“I unpacked some of your things too.” He comments as he hugs your sister from behind in the doorway. “Needed to make sure the dresser drawers wouldn’t cave in.” 

Your eyes trail to the pretty dresser, painted white with even prettier trim on it. It’s the first time you’ve ever had a matching bedroom set. You head over and take a peek in the drawers, noting that he didn’t just haphazardly throw your clothes in there. 

Top drawer, all of your undergarments are fucking folded. Second drawer, socks, tights, and leggings, third drawer, soft pajama sets also folded. And the fourth drawer remains empty.

You turn to look at him, embarrassed by the fact that he took it upon himself to do that. You can’t see a single shred of embarrassment in his own face though, and it appears he really was just being nice. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. I do the laundry here so I’ll be folding those more often than you’d think.” He smiles, and your sister lends a chuckle. 

“He’s gotta do something while I’m making most of the money.” She shrugs, totally fine with the fact that her boyfriend just handled every piece of underwear you own save for the ones you’re wearing. 

“Closet too, hung up what I could but I’m like, really hungry so I figured I could leave the rest to you.” 

You nod in appreciation, in awe of your new room and the soft, plush carpet on your floor. Your old room was hard wood with dust filled corners, it felt cold. Here though? You feel welcomed, warm, and cozy. 

Hundreds of ideas flood your mind about how you want to decorate the room and as you go to start unpacking your miscellaneous items, your sister nods and backs out of the room with her boyfriend still hugging her from behind. 

There, you’re left to your own devices. 

Another thought crosses your mind when you hear the door close as well. The fact that you haven’t had a door to close for your bedroom since you snuck out all those years ago. The sound felt like music to your ears as you found yourself falling back on the bare mattress with a deep and relieved sigh. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

With all of the unpacking, wall art compositions, and napping in between, the week flew by quicker than you anticipated.

Waking up today, at half past two in the afternoon felt so good. Your duvet felt crispy, your room was completed and finally your own, and it felt safe. You could smell the breakfast cooking in the kitchen, and your sister’s voice paired with Heeseung ringing fondly at each other. 

Little bit strange that you didn’t wake up to silence in the house, considering Heeseung is usually just now heading to sleep with that fucked up sleep schedule and your sister is normally lounging in the living room with a snack, iced coffee, and watching her favorite reality shows. Save for when she’s at work all day, of course.

Still, you slowly pull yourself out of bed feeling happy and refreshed, stepping into your attached bathroom to do your morning routine before exiting the room, and then heading into the kitchen with a small “good morning.”

“It’s nearly three in the afternoon.” Your sister smiles at you. “But good morning to you too sis.”

Heeseung, seemingly dressed for the day with a band tee and a beanie on, lends you a glance and a wave as he swings back and forth in the kitchen, mixing pancake batter in a bowl for your sister and unaware of the speckle of said batter stuck in a strand of his hair. 

You lean over your sister’s shoulder after waving back to him, noting how she’s making little bite-sized pieces of pancake. Ah, this is the life, really. 

“Well? Don’t just stand there? Pour some juice or something. We need a big meal before tonight.” Your sister laughs at your sleepy content hum from behind her, noting how you act much like she did when she first got out of the childhood home. 

You take a step back, eyeing the room, trying to put the puzzle pieces together as to why Heeseung is awake and dressed and why she’s making a big meal to begin with. Both your sister and Heeseung note the confusion on your face. 

“Ah, she forgot.” He rumbles with a smirk, not keeping his eyes on you for too long as his focus falls back to mixing. 

“Did you really forget?” Your sister rolls her eyes with a spatula in hand, turning to you and putting her other hand on her hip. “Everyone seems excited to meet you, they’ll probably start pouring in around six or seven tonight.”

“Oh, right! The party!” You exclaim, shocked that you really did forget about it. With your sister’s promise of alcohol, you assume that explains the large breakfast, and also probably why Heeseung doesn’t look like a total slob.

“Yeah, the party.” Heeseung snickers, his back turned away from you but overall acting as if you’ve already lived here for months. Throwing the same sarcasm at you that your sister does. 

“Now go pour some juice, we have to go to the store after this and pick out drinks.” Your sister finally says, turning back to flip the pancakes in the pan. “You have drank since I moved out, right? You never wanted to try anything with me back then.”

You reluctantly nod your head, and your sister gasps fondly.

“Someone got into the liquor cabinet?” 

You nod with a laugh, knowing that you learned how to do it from her despite always being too chicken as a teenager to do it with her. The curiosity of being drunk didn’t outweigh the fear of being caught at all for you, at the time anyway. 

“Sunghoon is usually the one babysitting us, so no need to worry about pacing yourself.”  Heeseung comments along with his sneaky side eye at you. 

You don’t notice him do it at all, and even if you did you’d just assume it’s a passing glance. After all, you did open the fridge a little too hard.

“Sunghoon?” You ask. 

“One of my friends,” He raises his hand to his hair to try and shake out the now, obvious, speckle of batter that’s starting to dry in the strands. “By the way, when you go to bed tonight– make sure you lock your door.” He continues, turning around now and leaning against the counter just to watch you lift on your toes for some of the cups in the cabinet. 

His eyes watch the way you lift, your calf muscles flexing, your back arching slightly as you try to reach…And, well, he’s acting much like any man would, if he’s being honest, but ultimately he keeps his eyes to himself when your sister is turned or looking at him. 

“Noted.” You nod without paying much attention, pouring the drinks and now moving the filled glasses to the table.

You make brief eye contact with him, noting how he’s already looking at you while your sister is simply listening, facing the other way and mostly just focused on not burning the pancakes.

“I’m serious. Lock your door.” He repeats, scanning your body and judging just how dangerous it is for you to be living here. 

Mostly because he’s always found you quite cute, and he’s very aware that his friends probably will too. Hell, he’s already crossed a line with you since day one of you living here, he’s shocked you haven’t yet picked up on it, and knows very well that his friends will make moves instantly if you give them a chance. And with all things considered, you seem a bit too unaware of how attractive you are. 

“Hm?” You raise a brow as you make your way back to the kitchen. “I was going to, but now you’re making it sound important.”

“Well,” Your sister chimes in, stepping back once and holding out her hand. Heeseung is quick adjust his eyes, handing the fresh bowl of batter to her with a kiss to her cheek as if he wasn’t just eye fucking you. “All of them are single, and you’re just about as good looking as I am.” She laughs half-heartedly. 

She’s not trying to have an ego, but it’s best to warn you now at least. It’s not that she thinks she’s hot or anything, but she knows they think she is. And if that’s the case, they’re gonna be drooling over the younger, more single, version of herself. 

Heeseung rolls his eyes now though, leaning back against the counter and scanning you again the second your sister has her back turned. This time more blatantly. Eyes landing on the curve of your hips to the length of your legs. 

“Yeah.” He says, sucking in a breath with a half lidded gaze, letting his eyes trail down. “I’ll try to keep them at bay, though.” 

For Heeseung, there is nothing wrong with looking. For you? You feel very seen by him and it’s kind of throwing you for a loop. Your appearance becomes the main point of conversation and it makes you want to kind of leave the kitchen. 

“I doubt that’ll be an issue.” You try to laugh it off. 

“No, seriously.” Your sister says, turning to look at you briefly to give you a serious expression. “Back when I first met Heeseung, all four of them were after me. I swear, they’re more than just competitive with their games.” 

“I always win though.” Heeseung nods triumphantly, now keeping his eyes to himself and focusing more on his girlfriend.

“That, you do.” She boasts for him, leaning back after moving the pancakes to a plate and landing a kiss on his lips. 

You study how they move together. So in sync, not stepping on each other’s toes, ultimately moving in harmony. Likes it natural to them. She really does look happy, and he just looks like a guy who doesn’t know where to land his gaze. 

A normal guy, you think, who was given the same freedom your sister gives to you. It really is just who she is to take care of people, and the harsh judgment you originally had about Heeseung kind of fades a little bit as you watch them. 

You try not to study him too much though because damn, your sister knows how to pick them in terms of like, scale of attractiveness. Heeseung is the type of guy the two of you would giggle over at the mall. The type you’d silently bicker over from behind a store rack of jackets, or perhaps even fantasize about during a long and boring tv show with your parents. 

It’s not strange to find him attractive, because, well, he is. But you know your place here, and you’ve grown up to the point to know that you can appreciate a person’s looks and not need anything from them at the end of the day. 

However, you kind of hope his friends are at the same level as him. For one, to avoid having a secret crush on Heeseung, because who wouldn’t? And secondly, they’re single, just like you. 

Apparently they’re also a threat to the “innocence” both your sister and Heeseung seem to want to protect within you. 

“I’ll lock my door.” You say finally, receiving a happy nod from both of them as they continue their cooking and you make your way to the table. 

And while you do plan to lock your door, you also plan to take your time in getting dressed for the party. You kind of do want to be pounced at, or at least, feel the freedom of knowing you can look however you want without your parents forcing you into the ugliest outfit known to man. You know how to dress yourself, you’ve just never quite been allowed to do it. All those sneaky clothes your sister bought for you can finally come in handy. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When your sister mentioned throwing you a welcome party, you expected a gathering of friends standing around awkwardly sipping wine coolers. What you didn’t expect was for there to be mood lighting, music, an array of nicely dressed people, and a large gaming set up in the living room where the big screen television was muted and a maximum of eight at a time could go head to head on super smash bros. 

You found yourself enjoying it more and more as the night went on and you became more comfortable being greeted by strangers. Each drink you were handed mostly came from your sister, but by the time she stopped making her own drinks and began to drink whatever the hell-mix her friends were giving to her, Heeseung was the one handing you drinks. 

“Come here–” Heeseung says over the blaring music, still floored by how good you look now versus how good you looked this morning. To him, the drinks he’s having paired with you running around looking like this? It’s even more dangerous than he thought as he continuously finds himself staring, and finds you seemingly still unaware of it. 

 “I’ll show you how to mix this one.”

Your sister was off somewhere in the house with her group of pretty friends, and you’ve really only briefly met everyone as they walked in the door. The drinks in your system make you want to actually mingle though. Everyone else is mingling, everyone else looks comfortable and happy to enjoy the party. It drives you to feel the same.

You nod to Heeseung with warmth in your cheeks, noting that he looks about as tipsy as you do when he stumbles his way back into the brightly lit kitchen with you. Your eyes burn at the light, as do his, and he groans at it before opening the fridge and pulling out the cranberry juice. 

“Your sister said you’ve probably only chugged from a bottle, so I opted to give you the easiest drink to make.” He explains in a slight slur, setting the juice on the counter and ultimately knocking it with his elbow when he turns to grab the vodka bottle. “Cranberry juice and vodka.”

You feel endeared by his genuine smile and embarrassed laugh at the way he knocked over the juice, watching him in his own element and comfort zone. It makes you feel a little guilty that he’s been the one making your drinks, only because your sister must have asked him to by the time she got too drunk. 

Heeseung seems to do just about everything she asks of him, and while you’re thankful, you feel a little bad that he’d probably rather be in the other room with his friends rather than trapped in this empty and terribly lit kitchen teaching you how to make a fucking mixed drink. 

“I put about–” He starts, grabbing your cup and pouring it half full with vodka. “this much into yours.”

In your own state, it’s not like you’d know what’s too much or what’s too little to put into a drink, but so far everything he’s handed to you tasted good. So, you nod at him, attempting to focus in on the cup.

“And this much juice.” He continues, now pouring not enough juice into the vodka.

From this angle, watching him from behind, you pause for a moment in your tipsy brain. Distracted by the way his shoulders flex when he’s grabbing that big ass bottle of juice, but you’re quick to tear your eyes away. He’s just a nice looking guy, dressed up for the first time since you moved in, you can’t fucking help it. Surely your sister would understand if she ever caught you checking him out, right?

“Then just stir it.” He adds now, turning to face you and dipping two fingers deep into the liquid of your cup, swirling them, then handing you the drink. 

He sucks the remaining mixture off of his fingers in a blatant show of his interest that you’re still far too aloof to pick up, watching you pretend he didn’t catch you staring. And with his fingers still in his mouth, he smirks around them, giving you a pleased expression when you take a sip from the cup. 

You glance up just for a second when you taste the same exact drink he’s been making you for the past forty five minutes and nod, trying not to focus on the way his tongue darts between his fingers twice before he pulls them out of his mouth. 

“Good?” He asks for confirmation, and when you smile and nod again, his eyes stare harder. 

Surely it’s just because you’re drunk, but you swear he’s giving you bedroom eyes, and paired with what he just did with his tongue….well. He looks at you similar to how he did this morning. And when you moved in. And back during that one Holiday party he attended at your childhood home. 

Definitely the alcohol. Like, he’s dating your sister. She’s the prettier one, the more successful one, the one with more personality. You’re just you. No way in hell is he really looking at you the same way he looks at her. It’s just your boosted confidence of finally being able to wear such a skimpy outfit. It’s just the liquid courage, that’s all. 

“You know–” He starts this time, leaning against the counter like he did this morning while helping your sister cook, trying to appear casual, cool, and perhaps attractive in this stance. “When I was beating Jay’s ass on smash bros earlier, he mentioned you.” 

You continue to sip your drink, feeling a buzzing in your chest and ears as you listen to him. Far more able now to have any conversation he could throw at you compared to any other day. Even with the thought in your head that he might be checking you out.

“Oh? Which one is Jay again?” You ask, leaning slightly to peek around the wall at the crowd of bodies just a room over. Interest peaking solely because the majority of people in this house right now are like, next level attractive. Maybe this Jay guy can take your thoughts off of your sister’s fucking boyfriend. 

“The one with the sunglasses on his head, wearing all black.” He starts, leaning close next to you and pointing just in front of your line of sight. “He’s a fucking loser, though.” 

You look at the guy, trying to remember the short greeting he gave to you. A nod of his head when he pushed those same sunglasses up and into his hair. He threw a very quick glance at you, to your face, chest, legs, then back to your face where he nodded again before making his way into the kitchen to make himself a drink.  You think, maybe, that Jay guy judged you positively upon meeting you. 

“He didn’t even tell me his name, no wonder I didn’t know which one he was.” You lend a drunken laugh as you check him out, sipping your drink again while listening to Heeseung laugh next to you. 

His laugh sounds closer, which makes sense considering he’s now leaning his weight on you with his elbow on your shoulder, resting his head there. 

“I thought he was that one–” You say, now pointing your own finger to the other guy you met briefly, the one with the longer hair, dyed blonde with hella untouched roots.. 

He had a nice smile when he greeted you, leaning in for a warm hug with a small “great to finally meet you.” His clothes drastically differed from Jay’s though. Far more casual and normal, loose jeans and a large hoodie just like what Heeseung seems to wear so often, except the colors were a bit brighter.

“Nah, that’s Jake.” Heeseung snorts, breathing in your scent as he leans into you as closely as he can, letting the stands of his hair poking out from his beanie tickle your neck. “Careful with that one, he’s a pervert.” 

You’re quick to admit interest in this one too, swatting Heeseung’s hair from your neck without thinking much about it. Which, arguably, doesn’t quite sit well with him.

Not only are you almost entirely ignoring him now, but it’s his fault for pointing out his friends to you again despite his attempts at making them appear unappealing to you. It seems that his girlfriend’s little sister is a bit too eager to look at guys, yet not eager enough to look at him.

“Oh yeah?” You look for a little too long at Jake, in Heeseung’s opinion, as he draws his finger over to the very sober Sunghoon. 

“You remember meeting him though, he made sure of it.” Heeseung rolls his eyes from beside you, leaning hard. “Also a pervert, just a little less obvious. I’d steer clear.” 

“Is Jay the only one that isn’t a pervert?” You ask off handedly in a shy chuckle, bobbing your head now to the music bumping against the walls. 

“God, did I not just tell you he mentioned you?” Heeseung shifts his weight to his other leg, skewing his head and looking straight down your shirt. “He asked if you were like your sister, the freak.”

He leans away from you at that point, noting that your drink is already near empty again and needing to refill it so that way he can push his own opinions into that empty little brain of yours. 

“What do you mean, like my sister?” You ask, watching him take the cup from you and place it right there in front of the same ingredients he just used to make the drink before. 

“Well,” He tilts his head back slightly when he turns to prepare the drink, eyes looking at you in a dark and somewhat scary way, still with a charming smile though. “Your big sis kind of got a little dirty on our first date. Guess Jay hopes you’re the same.”

Heeseung hopes you are too, but not for them. 

And, for you? It’s not like you’ve ever been given a chance to do such a thing. However, upon meeting and then re-meeting his friends from afar, all of them really are quite attractive. Maybe you could follow in your sister’s footsteps just to say that yes, you fuck on the first date too.

“I guess I am a bit like her.” You say offhandedly, looking away from Heeseung and tipping your head back around the corner to check the three men out again.

And when Heeseung turns to give you another full drink, he snaps his fingers. 

“Get back in here.” He says, and when you turn to face him again, his eyes land right back on your chest. 

“I’d advise against it.” He slurs at seeing your curious gaze land on one specific friend, stirring your drink with his fingers much like he did before. “Jay is a slut.”

“All of them are, actually.”

Unfortunately, Heeseung’s warnings go through one ear and out the other. He can see it, especially with the way you place that drink up to your lips and make your way into the living room, leaving him behind without so much as a “thank you”. 

And when you sit, directly between Jay and Jake, both of them turn their heads from the large TV screen, which allows Sunghoon to land some pretty major blows on them until he, himself, turns his head to witness two drunk idiots and a pretty girl between them. 

“Heeseung said you asked about me.” You state boldly, leaning into the wrong person to say it. 

“Well, he’s a liar.” Jake bellows out, studying how drunk you are and glancing up at Jay with a snide grin. Raising his brows and gripping his controller. 

“That would be me who asked.” Jay pipes in, and it’s the first time you’ve heard his voice directly address you, but man, alcohol is fun. It makes you feel even more bold when you turn to look at him with a face that you assume shows interest.

“Why didn’t you just ask me yourself?” You ask, ignoring that you fumbled the greeting.

“You weren’t drunk enough,” Jay laughs, ignoring the screen as it gives Sunghoon his win. “I see now though,” He looks you up and down, slouching back against the couch and stretching his arm wide around the back of it, and you.” You’re definitely drunk.”

You nod happily, eyes turning to Jake, who is still just checking you out. 

“Sure am.” You laugh, hopping up in one motion and turning to face them. “Heeseung also told me that you’re all fucking perverts, so.”

Jay and Jake both lend a “what the fuck, bro?” face at Heeseung, who was slouched against the wall, yet again, watching how you interact with his friends.  He simply shrugs at them with a malicious smile into his drink. After all, he’s the one on top of the world right now. Not only does he have a hot as fuck girlfriend who lets him live and do as he pleases, but now he’s got a younger version of her running around, acting like she knows how to whore herself out.

He can tell you’re just like her in that regard. Ready, willing, wanting to experience everything all at once if the world throws it at you. From the way you sat between his friends to the way you snitched on him with a pretty smile on your face. Oh man, the guys probably love you already.

“So, what?” Jay rolls his eyes as Jake watches you stand on wobbling legs. “You don’t like to get laid?”

You bellow out a laugh that nearly throws you off balance, but Jake is very quick to lunge forward and grab your arm to steady you, forcing you to spill your drink all over yourself and him. 

“Sure I do,” You ignore the blatant show of your mindstate and instead, remember how you’ve actually had plenty of sex during whatever time you could fit, in whatever place was hidden enough that didn’t involve your own home. “Why, you trying to get some?”

Jay smirks at you as Jake holds your half-spilled drink, listening to you flirt and smiling much the same way. 

“Maybe.” Jay shrugs, side eyeing both of his friends. “You gonna give it up?” He adds, now blatantly checking you out from head to toe, liking very much what he’s seeing. 

“Nope.” Heeseung suddenly cuts in, staring his three friends in the face as he grabs your drink from Jake and hands it back to you before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pretending to be the knight in shining armor your sister wants him to be. 

You look back at the three men as Heeseung leads you away, then you note that Sunghoon shrugs at you.

“What the hell?” You ask, slightly annoyed with Heeseung and the lights of the kitchen blinding you once again. “I was busy.”

“Busy doing what? Teasing my friends?” Heeseung shakes his head as he turns away from you, placing your cup down and opening the bottles back up. “You’re playing a dangerous game, babe, I’d stop if I were you.” 

“And? Maybe I like it.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how the alcohol radiates behind your eyes and lends two Heeseungs to pretend you’re not attracted to. At least with his friends, you can be more open about it. 

Heeseung stops making your drink and turns to look at you and the way your eyes struggle to adjust. He’s entirely floored by that statement. The fact that you’ve kept to yourself for the most part since you’ve moved in, and now you’re all cute and drunk in front of him revealing just how much of a whore you might be if you were given the chance? Damn. 

“Your sister would kill you.” He says, turning back to your drink and knowing that your sister probably wouldn’t actually give a shit if you fuck his friends. He does though. 

“I mean, I guess I won’t stop you.” He lies, now turning back to make your drink the exact same way and giving it to you despite knowing he shouldn’t be giving you more. 

“Can honestly say you’re a bit too pretty for them, though.” He adds in a snide compliment, wanting so badly to flirt but doing his best to appear like it’s totally normal for him to say these things. 

And as he notes your stare at him, processing the words, he takes this moment to grab a towel from the sink to dab away at the drink that you previously spilled all over yourself. 

You look at him, watching him dab the towel against your arm. He seems focused on doing it, pretty face and clear skin shining in these morgue lights in the kitchen compared to everywhere else in the house. And then, you note how when he looks up, his eyes stop momentarily at the amount of cleavage you’re revealing for this occasion. Hah, he probably thinks his messy strands of hair hid his eyes from you, but you saw it. 

“Oh, I get it.” You take in a deep inhale, reaching to pull his beanie over his eyes and letting out a bold laugh because really, you’re pretty drunk by this point. “You’re a pervert too.”

Heeseung shrugs, lifting the beanie back up and standing much taller in front of you. He skews his head down, looking right past your face and down your shirt this time. Proud of seeing the curve of them and the space between that could probably stimulate any cock you squeeze there.

“Maybe, yeah.” He smirks, taking a slight step closer and letting both arms trap you against the counter, hovering above you with an intimidating stance. “Maybe even more than they are.” He adds, already preparing himself to press his hips up and against you, uncaring of how it would look if he were to be found like this with you. 

Unfortunately, he’s forced to care because there’s a happy pair of footsteps making their way to the kitchen, and he really should not have been about to do that in the first place. He stumbles back at the sound, smiling at you with a quick, tipsy wink. 

It leaves you a little dizzy as you stare at him with a weird kind of aroused feeling in your gut. Surely that’s the alcohol too, it has to be. You’re very quick to shrug off the small intimate moment as you hear your sister’s loud and booming voice calling out his name.

You watch as she envelopes him in a fraction of a second, lifting on her unbalanced feet to immediately start making out with him. 

You’re not sure why you stand there and watch for a second, a little zoned out before Heeseung opens his eyes briefly and looks at you throughout the bruising kiss he’s currently an active participant of. 

There’s that same look again, only this time he’s doing it while licking into your sister’s mouth. You’re so fucking confused right now. All the signals have to be your imagination, right?

You snap out of the daze then, whispering a small “ill just go somewhere else.” before leaving the kitchen and finding yourself at the table just outside of it. 

You try to keep your eyes to yourself at this point regarding Heeseung, feeling all of the buzz and heat in your gut at the idea of being allowed to be openly sexually attracted to just about any man you lay eyes on. He’s nothing special, just a handsome guy. His friends are just as attractive, right?

And as you trail your eyes around the room trying to find someone to go mingle with, you are instead surrounded by your sister’s friends. Still, when you glance to the living room, every single time, either Jake, Jay, or that other guy is watching you with eyes that you’ve read before from other men.

Arguably, the same eyes Heeseung gave you just a few minutes before. At least with them, you know you’re not reading those bedroom eyes wrong.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Give me a week.” Jake says, elbowing Jay in the side and taking a hefty sip of his terribly mixed drink as his eyes drift to the new girl surrounded by other hot girls. “I'll be in her bed before the week is up..” 

Jay rolls his eyes, standing from the couch and stretching out his own tipsy limbs as he walks to Sunghoon and sits on that couch instead. 

“Three days for me then.” He says, giving Jake a too-confident face. “I could go over there right the fuck now and have her on her knees, probably.” He says as he looks at you, fitting in so well with the group of girls. Possibly being the hottest one too. “Maybe.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes at his slurring best friends, clearly drunker than they realize. 

“You both take the wrong approach.” He says, stiffening his shoulders before slouching entirely against the couch, considering ditching the baby-sitting job and having a drink as well. “You think they’d just let you fuck her? I’ll get her to go on a date with me first. Get her legs open in my car after.”

“Quite frankly, Sunghoon, I don’t really give a shit if they’d let me. I’m going to get some of that.” Jay responds.

All three of them are staring at you, thankfully, you don’t seem to notice as you fall into a conversation with that same group of girls, plus your sister now. And just as Jake was about to add more to the conversation, Heeseung makes his way in. 

“Don’t–” Heeseung slurs as he flops beside Jake, letting his heavy limbs hurt his friend. “–even think about it, Jakey boy.” He says, knowing for a fact what all three of his whore friends are thinking. They’ve been staring and glancing at you all night.

Jake avoids eye contact, because he’s definitely thinking about it. 

“No worries.” Jay shrugs. “We’re just looking, that’s all.”

Somehow, someway, all three of Heeseung’s friends pick up on what Jay is putting down. Ah, a deal of leaving him out, they suppose. 

After all, Heeseung already managed to bag your sister. They know he’d keep her little sister off limits to them too. Out of respect or some shit, probably. Bro code, all of that. 

“Keep it that way.” He hums, shoving Jake and laughing. “She’s too hot for you guys anyway, just like her sister.”

There’s a shared look between the three as Sunghoon lunges for Jay’s drink and takes a sip of it. 

“Heeseung, we’re crashing here tonight.” He bellows out through tangy lips. 

And, well, Heeseung didn’t argue because he knows he’s not in a state to really give a shit at this point. The only thing he needs to be focused on right now is willing his cock to soften up a bit before he does something drastic about it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Heeseung thinks hard as he looks at himself in the mirror. He’s seeing two of himself which is kind of funny in one aspect, but also terrifying because he didn’t intend to drink this much.

Why is he so upset to see his friends go for you? You’ve been here a week and he’s already feeling so jealous? Really? Then again, he knew from the moment your sister told him you were moving you that it was going to be either very interesting or incredibly difficult. 

Mostly because he’s stolen glances at you for years. Wondering when you’d ever come to visit, always looking so pretty and happy during those brief holiday gatherings. Oh yes, he’s had his eye on you for a fucking while. And now? You’re living here? And coming onto his friends right after he warned you not to? 

For the past hour as he sipped and watched you roam the house, back and forth between the girls, your sister, and his boys, he couldn’t help but scoff at you for it. You haven’t spoken to him since the kitchen incident. A little bit of a blatant moment on his part, he admits, he even surprised himself with that.

Still, this protective feeling doesn’t come from being your future brother in law. Absolutely not. It stems entirely from the twitch in his pants he’s gotten nearly every single moment he’s gotten to take a long look at you. 

It was manageable before, where he’d see you maybe once or twice a year. But now? It’s every single day, and it pisses him off that you’re not mingling with him during this party. 

He stares at himself, bobbing his head to the music in the mirror before leaning forward against the counter and inching closer and closer to his own face.Finally, he can focus in and see only one of himself looking back in the mirror. 

All he sees is a man who has managed to bag himself the perfect woman. One willing to coddle him and take care of him like a mother would, one willing to let him float through life unemployed for the time being, one that doesn’t entirely let him fuck the way he wants to solely because she’s far too confident in herself to let him pull such a thing with her. 

Heeseung tilts his head at himself as he examines his face in the mirror, knocking his beanie off and running his fingers through his hair. Leaning back and once again to relish in his own doubled vision.

What he really sees looking back at him in that mirror is a man who bagged himself an almost perfect woman who appears to have a truly perfect sister. It’s the fact that suddenly, he can admit that he is bored in the bedroom, and a man who is far too eager to ignore that if he got the chance, he would be just like his friends regarding you.

He would be getting your number and asking to see what those tits look like under that skimpy shirt you’re wearing tonight. You’d probably show them too, considering the fact that you lived your entire life up until this point barred by church sermons and non-existent doors that offer no privacy to so much as finger yourself. You’re probably dying to experience all of the things you were already supposed to be well acquainted with at your age. 

And as he thinks about it, head spinning in thoughts of what he’s already done just moments after you officially moved in, he slips his hand down. Groping himself through his jeans and staring down at the bulge that sits just above the counter. 

He hangs his head, smirking and shivering at the small touch he lends to his own length. It’s the fact that he just got hard over the confirmation of being sexually unsatisfied in his own bedroom. The shamed truth that he stood here thinking a little too hard about what kind of nudes you’d send if he ever chose to ask for them, it’s not something he’s ashamed of either. 

In fact, the thought of sneaking out of the bed while your sister sleeps just to slip into your room and cover your pretty little mouth in his cum? That’s more arousing than knowing he could just leave the bathroom right now and fuck your sister. 

And he stands there for a few minutes testing that theory, running his fingers along the swollen inseam of his pants in a careful way, like his girlfriend does. He twitches once at the feeling, glancing up at himself in the mirror again, trying hard to imagine her in this bathroom with him. 

Another twitch, weaker this time. He laughs at himself quietly in defeat before breathing in a deep inhale through his nose, allowing the muffled music just outside of the door to fade off through his hot ears and aroused mind. 

He closes his eyes briefly when he grabs himself now. Rougher, harsher, messier. Trying to mimic the hand of a woman who probably hasn’t done this too much, trying to mimic what he thinks you’d do. His hips shift forward almost immediately and without intention, chasing the feeling of inexperience. Chasing the thought of someone that isn’t his girlfriend. He chuckles more now, confirming his theory.

Chasing it with his eyes closed up until he does open his eyes and sees himself looking so out of it for you. Knowing that you’re just ten feet away if he were to walk out of this bathroom right now, so drunk and cute, you probably wouldn’t think twice about giving it to him. Knowing that if he really wanted to, he could take you the way he’s always wanted your sister and you'd probably love every second of it. 

He’d fuck you better. You’d be tighter, wetter, and louder for him than she ever has been.

And just as he goes to slide his hand down the front of his pants, intending to fuck his own fist to the thought of you tonight rather than turning that lock behind his own door to get between your sister’s legs, there’s a loud knock on the door. He jumps at the sound, adjusting his pants right back to where they belong before whipping around a bit too quickly and sending a bottle of perfume clattering to the floor in a loud POP sound.

“Shit-” He groans, smelling the intense aroma of what your sister wears, forcing his mind back to the reality of not being allowed to fuck you. 

He tiptoes around the broken glass, nostrils burning at the strong scent before swinging the door open with an annoyed roll of his eyes. 

“Heeeeeeeeseungie!” Your sister sings, fumbling over and leaning on him instantly with her arms circling his shoulders. She’s so gone that she doesn’t even notice the scent of her favorite perfume that just got destroyed. 

“Hey honey,” Heeseung says calmly, appearing far more sober despite being a bit buckled at the knees. “Need help?”

She nods against his chest, unaware of his softening cock that wasn’t at all raging for her just moments before.

“There’s glass all over the floor right now, let’s go use your sister’s bathroom.” 

The length in his pants shrank nearly instantly upon feeling her cling to him like this, with that cute, high pitched, voice she tends to use when she’s needy. He tries not to think about that though. Coming to terms with the fact that what used to get him off is currently turning him off? That’s too much of a dangerous thought right now. 

“Mhm,” Your sister hums as he guides her to your closed bedroom door.  “Wait!” Your sister panics, coming to her drunk senses for just long enough to blurt “She came in here with Sunghoon earlier, we should knock.”

Heeseung stiffens for a moment, pausing his step just outside your bedroom door. The weight of his own girlfriend against him should be something he loves right now, but he just finds himself wishing she’d get the fuck off of him. 

The fact he’s somehow more pissed about you behind this door, probably giving it to Sunghoon, than he is in love with his girlfriend right now? Telling. He knocks once before immediately turning your door knob. Locked.

“Hey, your sister needs to use the bathroom.” Heeseung shouts right up against the crack of the door, wiggling the knob. “Open up!”

“Use the other bathroom!” You shout back in a muffled and far away sounding voice. 

Heeseung stands there, pretending he doesn’t notice the sound of shuffling on the other side when the song booming through the speakers changes for a split second. 

“Can’t use the other bathroom! There’s glass on the floor!” 

Silence from the other side of the door for a brief moment then, click! You crack it open, cheeks flushed and eyes struggling to focus on him. Heeseung immediately pushes the door open to reveal not only Sunghoon, but Jake and Jay all three lounging around your room.

Still fully clothed, at least, but he can tell at least one of them appears to be struggling to hide his hard on. (Jake.)

Heeseung narrows his eyes at all three of the men. Jake sitting stiffly on the floor at the end of your bed, hands over his lap. Jay, lounging on your bed, as if he’s been on it a thousand times with a half-boner on full display. And then Sunghoon, clearly feeling some type of buzz as he’s the only one still drinking, leaning right up against the dresser that Heeseung built himself.

“Ooh,” Your sister hums, wiggling her finger at you.”Scandalous.” 

You lend her a shy smile as you take a step back, willing them sooner rather than later to leave solely because you were busy in here.

Not like, fucking or anything. Just having a nice, innocent, conversation with three hot guys. That’s all. Plus, you’d never have been able to handle sitting alone in a room with these three if it weren’t for the alcohol in your system anyway. Especially with the way you initially only invited Sunghoon into your room to show him how you had the same style of socks he was wearing. Jake immediately followed both of you, followed by Jay, who was the one who closed the door and locked it. 

And you pay no mind to Heeseung and your sister walking to your bathroom on unbalanced steps, you find yourself flopping back on the bed right beside Jay instead.

None of them have done anything at all to make you feel awkward or like this situation is dangerous either. In fact, the only thing you guys have talked about are the mutual interests that you share. 

Poor you, so aloof when drunk. Unable to comprehend the fact that every single one of the guys in your room right now have made attempts to steer the conversation in their own way to things not so innocent. 

You do try to ignore what happened in the kitchen with Heeseung though, avoiding eye contact with him as he makes his way back out of your room after helping with your sister. You think he’s glaring, maybe, but oh well.

“Anyway, back at home my dad would have never let me wear band shirts.”

“That’s tough.” Jay comments, side eyeing your chest in that top and low-key wondering how nice your tits would look braless, under one of his band shirts. “Bet he didn’t know he raised not one, but two sneaky daughters.”

You smile triumphantly, ignoring the shadow of your sister that they force you into. 

“They made it really hard to break rules. Now though? I get to wear stuff like this and hang out with guys like you.” 

“Yeah,” Jake trails off, turning his body to peek at you from the end of the bed. “Probably not the smartest move on your part.”

You bring your attention to him, seeing a blur of charming eyes and messy hair. 

“What do you mean?”

“What he means is that, it’s probably not ideal to get shit faced then lock yourself in a room with three horny guys.” Sunghoon asserts, pushing off of the dresser and now setting himself on the foot of your bed. “You can’t tell?” 

You, for some reason, are astonished at his words. Sunghoon, compared to the other two, seemed more quiet and reserved if you’re being honest. Then again, you’ve only known these guys for a few hours by this point. What you do know about Sunghoon, is that he’s horrifyingly attractive in the way he carries himself, which you can’t really say the same for Jake or Jay. 

With his perfected dark hair and tall stance. he looms around with each expression on his face leaving little to the imagination in the way his eyebrows accentuate whatever thought flows behind his eyes. Somehow, he’s still the hardest to read, as you watch him assert his own form of dominance on your bed. 

You’re blissfully unaware of how tame Sunghoon was actually being at this moment though. All three of them, they’re competing to see who fucks you first, and whoever wins? Ah, not only do they get a paid night at the bar out of it, but both losers have to fork over another sum of money equal to that of two seasons worth of battle passes to whatever game the winner may choose to play. 

“I think this is a good time to hand you my phone, give me your number.” Jay cuts in quite quickly, ignoring the way Sunghoon invites himself into the space he created with you. 

Jay doesn’t even let you process his words as he tosses his phone to the side and at you, watching it land on your stomach before sliding off to the other side of you. 

“Ah, you’re cute.” He chuckles upon noting your terrible coordination skills of grabbing said phone. 

“Well, I’m drunk, so.” You dead-pan, freezing when you feel him lean over you to grab the phone himself, staying there and hovering over you with it in his hand.

You let out a small gasp when you meet his eyes, staring straight through you. 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes at Jay’s blatant show of interest, and Jake simply watches. Studies how you react to the forwardness.

“Go on.” Jay encourages you, holding the phone directly in front of you, where your eyes are still glued to his confident face, as if he’s not practically caging you in on your own bed like this. “Type it in.”

You do. Somehow managing to type your number perfectly on the screen placed in front of you, and he’s quick to turn the phone to himself, flicking his eyes back and forth between you and the screen as he presses the call button.

Your phone vibrates from the dresser and Jay gives a victorious and somewhat dark smile. 

“One for me, zero for the idiots.” He laughs, lending you one more glance, a squeeze of his palm against your waist, and then he’s moving off of you and your bed as a whole. “Call me when you kick them out, I’ll sleep in here tonight.” He adds, leaving no room for argument before leaving the room entirely.

That leaves Sunghoon and Jake, sitting there trying to pretend it wasn’t expected of Jay to at least get your number first. He always starts strong, then again, he also always fumbles hard when things get gritty. In game and out of game. 

“What a prick.” Sunghoon sighs, flopping back on the end of your bed and forcing you to shift your legs up and press them together to make room for his broad body.

He turns his face to look at you from down here, watching you spread your legs to look back at him. The motion is innocent at best, because you seem to trust that he’s not trying to be a pervert right now. Oh, but he is. 

He looks at you from this angle hard, realizing how easy it could be to shift just a foot in the right direction to have his face right where you’d probably like it. 

And you note the way he’s looking at you.

“Do you guys like…” You glance away from him, over to Jake who is now making his own way onto the bed where Jay was lying before. You shift for a moment, feeling like prey. “Do you guys always share a girlfriend?”

Jake snorts. 

“Share?!” He laughs at your question more before settling back against your pillows and landing his hand on your thigh. Easy, simple, and obvious. “We don’t share anything.” He explains now, feeling the fabric of your bottoms and pushing your legs closed so that Sunghoon can’t lay down there and think up all sorts of fantasies. 

“You’re gonna have to pick.” Sunghoon says in an annoyed tone, glaring at Jake for closing your legs.

He lifts up on his arms now, raising a brow. 

“I’ll give you some advice though.” He says, noting how you listen to him more than you do Jake. “Jay has the stamina of a dead horse.”

Snorting only for a moment, you think hard about Jay. Noting his cool and collected demeanor. Uncaring, somewhat cold, but his face seemed warm and endearing when he looked at you from time to time. You could sense the confidence in him from the moment he looked at you when he walked into this house. Instant attraction, without even knowing his name, is what you felt. With that sleek hair style and pretty hands gripping a full bottle of tequila. He probably has more stamina than Sunghoon gives him credit for.

“And Jake.” Sunghoon laughs this time, pointing directly at the guy lying next to you. “Two strokes and he’s out of the game.”

You laugh again looking over to Jake, who stares at Sunghoon with a dark glare. 

“What the fuck dude? That was one time!” He defends himself, babbling about how it was the first time he ever had sex, and how he can go way longer now. 

“Me, on the other hand.” Sunghoon perks up as he runs his hands through his hair before smiling at you. “I just want to take you on a date.”

Ding ding ding! We have a winner. 

“Really?” You ask, floored over possibly landing your first date in years that your parents wouldn’t be attending.

“Of course.” He nods politely, ignoring that Jake is even in the room now. “I’m not the kind of guy who is just trying to get between your legs.” He lies easily, glaring at Jake again for closing your legs earlier.

“So, what do you say?” Sunghoon encourages you to pick him at this moment, and the nod you give has him pulling his own phone out, asking you to tell him your number rather than forcing you to type it into his phone. 

You smile as you give him the numbers, not at all seeing Jake try to sneakily type it into his phone as well. 

“Good.” Sunghoon says, flopping back on your bed and now using his own hand to part your legs again. You look at him from above and feel elated by how petty and clean cut he is. “Don’t call Jay when I leave, then.”

You hum a confirmation, stretching out your arms and feeling confident as all hell at the way tonight has gone. Up until, well, Sunghoon makes his way out of the room and tries to drag Jake with him. Only because he knows Jake is awful at talking to girls but man, do they swoon if they’re into desperate guys. You seem to be into just about anyone, if Sunghoon is honest with himself. 

“Come on, dickhead.” Sunghoon gripes at Jake, grabbing his hoodie and physically trying to drag him out of the room. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Jake says, pressing all of his body weight against your mattress and kicking Sunghoon away from him. “Play fair or I’ll tell her about last weekend.”

Sunghoon instantly avoids eye contact with him, knowing that if Jake were to spill the beans on how he forgot to leave the server during his uh…session, a date would be out of the question not only for now, but for good.

“You’re the fucking worst.” He grimaces before releasing Jake’s hoodie and stepping out of the room, only half wondering if he should truly let Jake shoot his shot as well.

Ultimately, Sunghoon finds himself stepping out of the door and directly into Jay. 

“Well played.” Jay comments. “Guess I’ll just have to prove to her that you’re full of shit, won’t I?” 

Sunghoon smiles a wicked grin, eyes narrowing at Jay. 

“You won’t even get the chance.” He says, looking past Jay and down the hallway at Heeseung, who is shooting a death-glare at them. “Oh, check it.” He changes the subject by shoving Jay in the side to look at their friend. “He’s mad.”

Jay turns to look at whatever it is Sunghoon is talking about and simply laughs. 

“He can tell something is up. Maybe we should tell him?” Jay asks, crossing his arms in interest. 

“Eventually.” Sunghoon laughs as he pushes past Jay and makes his way to the kitchen for another drink.

Jake, on the other hand, is fucking vibrating as he sits alone in this room with you, dodging the questions about what Sunghoon did last weekend to cause such a reaction with an entirely made up sob story. 

“Oh my god?” You coo out, turning to face him entirely. “That’s so sad!”

Jake mumbles, nodding his head as if he pities himself with a pout on his face. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s just how things go for me though.” He shrugs, blinking at you with the biggest and softest eyes he can manage. 

“I can’t believe she did that!” You bellow out now, entirely invested in the backstory of the love life he lost just a few months prior. “With her own cousin, too?!”

Jake nods again with that same pout, looking as defeated as he can, trying to be as charming as he possibly can.

You lean forward to give him a some form of hug at this moment, drunken emotion overtaking you as you sit and watch this poor guy pour his little broken heart out. 

“If it makes you feel any better, my last boyfriend broke up with me because my dad threatened him.”

“No, that’s awful.” He chuckles sadly, shaking his head at you. “We’re both just unlucky, huh?”

He nods his head, seemingly to get you to shadow his actions, and as expected, you do. You nod to confirm his words, still invested in the fact that such a nice looking guy got fucked over like that, only to be made fun of by his friends for it. 

So invested that you don’t note the way he keeps his hand on your leg or moves it upwards inch by inch. 

“Can we change the subject?” Jake pouts harder, looking at you with sparkling eyes.. 

“Yeah, of course–” 

“You’re really, really, pretty.” He suddenly blurts, looking you in the eye and using his other hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face. You totally believed his entire story, if the saddened look in your eye is anything to go by. “I think you should go on a date with me instead.”

You break eye contact, looking down again and only just now noticing his hand on your leg. Only just now noticing that hard-on he’s sporting in his pants. 

“Jake.” You say, lifting your eyes back to him. “Are you–hard?” You lift your brows in pity again with the subject change, drunken brain telling you that he’s probably crawling in his skin over how hard he is, and how sad everything is for him. 

“Oh, over this?” He asks, dropping his hand and blatantly groping himself. “A little. It always happens when someone as good looking as you gives me the time of day.”

Oh, how sweet. How cute. The fact that Jake gets hard simply over someone being nice to him? 

“Well, don’t worry!” You try to perk him up, not at all realizing that he’s full of shit. “I know it’s not because you’re trying to get into my pants or anything. I won’t tell anyone.” You nod to him with a smile before– Uh oh.

“Well, actually–” Jake tries to start, already about to make his move when he notices the color on your face change and you’re fumbling to the bathroom. 

And just like that, Jake has failed, as he stumbles out of your bed and to your locked bathroom door. 

“Are you okay?” He asks with a sweet and caring voice.

Silence from the other end save for the sound of your sink running full blast probably to mask the sounds of your stomach trying to evacuate the copious amounts of alcohol that’s been fed to you. 

So much for the pancakes being a fix-all solution. And with that, Jake leaves the room while pulling out his phone, texting the number he stole when you gave it to Sunghoon. 

Jake: hey, don’t be embarrassed about getting sick. I’m gonna crash on the couch so if you need me i’ll be there.

After that, the party is pretty much over. Everyone save for the three perverts, Heeseung, and your sister remain.

This leaves your sister already passed out and tucked into her bed by none other than Heeseung himself, Jay already asleep on the couch, Sunghoon piled up on the floor between the dining room and the living room. Probably to create a barrier that would wake him if Jay really tried to get into your room.

And poor fucking Jake, forced to actually pity himself as he curls his body up on the love seat in the living room, pretending that it’s totally big enough for him to be comfortable here.

Heeseung looms around the house once everything goes silent, checking to be sure no one has passed out or died in a corner before coming back to the living room and staring at all three of his bitch-ass friends. 

On one hand, he’s glad they’re in the living room and not in your room. On the other hand, he wants to smother all three of them. One by one.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Heeseung is in his head for a solid three days after the party. So much that his focus is more on you than his games. Which is super fucked up when he thinks about it. That’s why, when your sister heads off to work, he’s plotting in his head every time. He needs you to like him somehow. 

The thoughts loop in his mind. From images of him pinning you up and against that kitchen counter again, to the fantasy image of you dropping to your knees in front of him. If anything, it’s not that he needs to fuck you, he just needs you to want him to.

And this is why he finds himself orbiting you. Finding reasons to come into your room, or reasons to get you out of it. 

“I’m gonna do some laundry, do you have anything I need to wash?” When you didn’t have anything more than what was already in your basket, he still washed your clothes. He also folded one of his own shirts into your pile just to see if you’d wear it. 

“I made some lunch, come eat with me.”  You already ate while he was in the office playing his games, which he should have guessed. 

“Hey, can you help me wash the dishes?” You had nodded, but never left your room and he ultimately ended up washing and drying them all himself. Waiting, waiting, and fucking waiting.

All three times he tried today, you brushed him off with your eyes glued to your phone. 

Something has got to give because it’s starting to get embarrassing how much he thinks about you. With the way he avoided sex last night with his own, very beautiful girlfriend, just to hide in the bathroom at four in the morning getting off with something he absolutely should not have in his possession. 

He doesn’t know how fucking long it’s gonna take to get you to break for him but it’s going to happen one way or the other. You don’t have a choice in the matter at this point .

It looks like you won’t even consider him in that pretty little head of yours simply because he’s considered off limits. He’s gonna have to prove you wrong.

Still, he remembers the way you looked at him during your welcome party. So cute and sweet when you’re drunk, so willing to hang out with him. The interest was there. He knows it was.

And now, as he ticks away at the WASD keys on his keyboard, running his little pixel version of himself back and forth between headshots that he misses every time, he wants to rip his fucking hair out. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Jay shouts through the headset. “He was right there!”

Heeseung knows his friends have every reason to rag on him right now. It’s the fifth lost ranked game of the day and he’s rotting inside at the thought of dropping back down to gold. 

“Platinum my ass.” Sunghoon pipes in, slamming his mouse on his desk out of sheer annoyance at what happened during the last game. “You didn’t down a single person in the past three games.”

Heeseung sighs, ripping his headset off and closing out the game. He can feel it in his body. The frustration bubbling up to the point that he really only thinks about you and this shit needs to stop now before his precious rank drops so far down that even their bronze boy Jake could boast above him. 

He ignores the annoyed shouts from his friends as he disconnects from discord, stands up, and practically storms out of the room and up to your door. 

“I’m coming in!” Heeseung gripes.

This is your first time witnessing him in a bad mood, as he does exactly as he says and swings your door open for the fourth time today. 

“You and me.” He says, pointing a finger at you “Right now.”

“Right now, what?” You ask in a nonchalant tone.

Which only pisses him off more because, fuck if he knows. 

“Get off your phone. We’re hanging out.”

You furrow your brow at him, pointer finger locking the screen of your phone and hiding the string of texts you’d been sharing with one of his very own best friends. Your eyes scan him only for a moment, noting how rushed he appears to be while barging into your room like this.

Large hoodie covering the majority of his body, sweat on his brow probably from all of that screaming you heard in the office earlier, and that same very embarrassing dent on the top of his head from his headset. 

As you look at him in all of his gamer boy glory you nod, only because out of all of his friends, you think you’d rather hang out with him because at least he’s not in your texts trying to land a date, or a hookup, or dropping dick pics by “accident”. 

He’s just Heeseung, your sister’s loving and very hard to read boyfriend. Who you don’t happen to fully remember is capable of pinning you against the kitchen counter while trying to show you how much worse he is compared to his friends. 

“Okay, what do you wanna do?”

He pauses, standing in your room and looking at you lounging on your bed. If he really told you what he’d like to do, it would probably scare you. He needs to think fast, not desperate. 

“Uh,” He hums, glancing away from you and lifting his hand up to finally ruffle that embarrassing dent in his hair away. “Have you ever played video games?”

“Yeah. Not the ones you play though.” You roll your eyes at his attempt at sudden small talk.

God, he shouldn’t have asked. He doesn’t think you could make yourself any more alluring to him after saying that. While his girlfriend has never once even considered picking up a controller, you have? Oh, shit. Man, that’s so hot. 

“Oh yeah?” He perks up in genuine interest, taking a step forward and landing himself on your bed without invitation. “Like what?”

“Party games mostly, I guess. Mario Party, Super Smash Bros, Wii sports, Among us.” 

He nods as you list the most mundane games in the industry. 

“Did you pick up pretty quickly? Like, did you ever win?” He asks, unaware that this conversation feels like literal foreplay to him, pleased by the fact that there’s suddenly more to like about you than just those tits and face….and personality….and intense need to break rules…and–

“Yeah, I can be kind of competitive.”

“Mm.” Heeseung nods in approval, turned on by the very image of you staring into a screen with dead eyes, fingers smashing on buttons and intensely focused. 

“Do you wanna watch me play something?”

“How is that hanging out?” You ask, scoffing at the idea. “Why would I want to watch you have fun?”

Heeseung looks at you. Yeah, that’s fair. He would probably end up ignoring you the whole time anyway, but still. Is it so bad that he asked simply to fulfill the fantasy of having a girl fawn over him and his successes? 

“Okay, then what would you want to do?” He shoots back, knowing it’s fair but hating it nonetheless. Wondering if there’s a chance that someday you’ll pile up on his lap and watch him carry the whole team to victory. Boasting for him more than he does for himself. 

“Horror movie. I’m sure she’s told you but our parents were very strict about what media we consumed. I have a whole list of horror movies I’m trying to work through, but sometimes it’s kind of difficult to watch by myself.”

Fuck yeah. Maybe it’ll end in that cringe and cliche scenario he’s used time and time again when flirting with girls. Images of you jumping from a jumpscare and grabbing him on instinct. Fantasies of you cuddling up real close. So close that he can smell how much you want him. He could get hard right now just thinking of doing this very thing with you. Plus, he fucking loves horror movies.

“Get your pretty ass in the living room then. ” He nods, smiling at you in a way that hides every thought behind his empty, horny eyes. 

And he just gets up and walks out like calling you pretty just now wasn’t at all out of place, he fucking winks at you. It really does throw you off that he just did that so nonchalantly, like he talks to everyone that way when you know for a fact that outside of this house, your sister has to fight him just to get him to wave hello to someone. 

You wonder why it feels like maybe you shouldn’t be spending time alone with him. Arguably, you don’t want to admit that it makes you feel good either. Already with three separate, very attractive people, in your texts insisting that you pick them, that you choose them. 

All of it is very desperate. Almost as desperate as you are to give in to every single one of them, but you can’t just let them know how sheltered you were and how free you feel the need to be now. 

Of course Heeseung, your sister’s boyfriend, calling you pretty would make you feel confident. Like maybe you could be with someone just as attractive as him, or perhaps no longer live in the shadow of everything you wish you could be. 

Her. Everything was always about her. 

“Oh, your sister got top of her class! She’s gonna be moving out soon!” She really just left you there to suffer alone. 

“Ah! Your sister just bought a house! I heard she and her boyfriend might marry soon!” 

You scoffed that day when you entered college, no one congratulated you for the countless free rides or multiple acceptance letters. No, it was all about her despite the fact that she lived an hour and a half away and you were right there.

She was only better than and outshined you because she was older and got there first. It was never competitive with you until everyone in your life expected you to outshine, outdo, and outwit her. 

Still, you jumped at the opportunity to live here solely to get away from your parents. Solely to try and live outside of everything you could be, only to become whatever the fuck you want to be. And yeah, you love her immensely because she truly is the only person who never expected you to be her. There’s so much resentment but an equal amount of love within you for your sister. 

And while Heeseung has no idea of this resentment you have rotting in your chest, you also have no idea that Heeseung believes the one thing you hold over your sister is the fact that you’re just her, except, well…younger, hotter, wilder, prettier, more inexperienced. Cuter voice. Snarkier attitude. Open, and perhaps, willing. 

If you knew that, perhaps Heeseung calling you pretty as if it’s his natural born right would become something different in your head. Perhaps you’d want to live in your sister’s shadow just once more. Why not try and take what your sister has? Wouldn’t that be fun?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

What a fucking bummer, Heeseung thinks, as he sits on one end of the couch with you on the other. He’s watched you more than the movie at this point, but the clock is tick-tick-ticking, and you’re just sitting there pushing through the horrors with a smile. Something's got to give. 

Your sister comes home in three hours, leaving space for just one more movie and he is truly determined to score this win if it’s the last thing he does. The worst part? Morals don’t mean shit if you want him to fuck you.

If there’s one thing Heeseung hates more than losing, it’s one-sided attraction. He knows he’s not the problem, you are for not looking at him long enough. You are for not even considering that he could fuck you better than anyone in all of those porn accounts you follow on twitter. Not that he stalked it or anything (he did.)

And that’s why, as his stare becomes darker, he stands up and scratches the back of his head with a sigh. 

“I’ll be right back.” He says, watching you wave him off as if you were totally paying attention to him.

That’s going to change right the fuck now. 

He heads to his shared room with your sister, stepping into the walk in closet and examining himself in the wall length mirror before sighing. 

Goddamn, he really stopped caring about how he looked once he finally got between your sister’s legs and locked her down. It’s no wonder you gave his friends more attention that night than you’ve ever given to him. He inspects his hair, messy and frizzy from his hoodie being pulled over and off of his head throughout the day. The cowlicks in the back leaving nothing to your imagination in regards to when the last time he washed the fucked-up locks was. 

He sighs at himself, licking his palm and trying to tame the cowlick. God, a shower right now would seem ridiculous because he’s supposed to be on the couch with you, standing up the gore and death on screen so your hand will accidentally touch his dick or something. 

No good. He needs to backpedal a little bit with his confidence, probably. He steps out of his room, taking his hoodie off at the same time. He rolls the sleeves of his t-shirt now, wanting to at least reveal his shoulders and arms to you. Wanting to parade himself around the house until you drip for him. 

“Hey.” He walks back into the living room, still rolling the last bit of his left sleeve up and over his shoulder. “Can you pause the movie for like ten minutes and throw a pizza in the oven or something?”

You look up at him and the way he seems like he’s thinking about something far off from any situation that’s currently happening. 

“Yeah, sure.” You nod, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie. “We could just keep watching while the pizza cooks though.”

He chuckles, knowing you’d say that and not at all having an excuse. 

“I need to take a shower.” He dead-pans, as if it’s not sudden or weird that he’s decided to rudely interrupt the last movie of the night with a shower that could definitely wait. 

“Just shower after we finish the movie.” You roll your eyes, still standing to your feet and heading towards the kitchen. “It’s not like your stink will get any worse in the matter of a few hours.”

Oh, so now he smells bad?! Is that why you aren’t into him?

“Or you could stop complaining and make the fucking pizza.” He snaps for the first time with a tone that indicates you should probably listen and do as he says. 

“God, what’s your problem?” 

“My problem? What’s yours?” He shoots back, far too annoyed that you play hard to get like this. There’s no way you seriously aren’t getting it. “You’re the one sitting around like you’d rather be doing anything else.”

You press the preheat button on the oven, and look at him shocked. Are his–feelings hurt? Are you really acting like a bitch, or uninterested in getting to know the man your sister will probably spend her life with? 

Were you really acting like you weren’t having a good time? God, you must be such a drag. 

“What? I was having fun, Heeseung, I like watching movies with you.” You try to explain, but he cuts you off.

“Fucking act like it then.” He gripes before turning on his heel and leaving you alone in the kitchen. 

It’s not like you knew he expected you to be interested in friendship with him or anything. You were just…hanging out. You really didn’t know it was supposed to go differently in his head, and the fact that it appears that he does have a specific expectation?  You wonder how to fulfill it. 

After all, you’re trying to avoid showing all the interest you actually have for him when you’re hanging out. It’s what you’re supposed to do, right? And well, by the time he’s out of the shower and presenting himself to you, you think you might have a better idea as to what he’s thinking. Is he trying to impress you right now? 

You can smell his cologne mixed with a minty scented shampoo. His hair looks blow dried. His skin is glistening, and he’s fucking shirtless. 

He watches when he sits down, this time closer to you on the couch presumably so you could share the pizza sitting on the coffee table just in front of you then he checks the clock. Only about thirty minutes wasted out of the remaining time he has with you alone, and then he checks you. Staring. Damn right. 

To you, he looks different.

Not just handsome, or kind of endearing in a loser way. But he actually looks sexy sitting there, with those loose gray sweatpants leaving nothing to the imagination in terms of size, and his exposed torso makes it harder to keep your eyes to yourself.

 His broad shoulders seem to accentuate his neck much more than you imagined considering you never have seen him lounge around like this, and his hair is no longer dented. It’s washed, fresh, and looks fucking good on him. 

Then, his smirk. It’s permanent on that knowing face of his.  

“What are you looking at?” He side eyes you, totally ignoring the pizza because he wasn’t actually hungry. 

He feels a victory welling up in his chest at the way you look at him though, seeing you already get so flustered? So easy. 

“Um,” You pause, tearing your eyes away in embarrassment. “Nothing.” 

He chuckles once in a short breath before stretching himself back against the couch cushions, spreading his legs wide and taking dominance over the space in the room. 

“Didn’t seem like nothing.” He flirts easily, testing the waters of how willing you are to admit that he’s getting his way. “You were checking me out.” 

You face forward now, shifting closer to the arm of the couch and pretending like you can't feel the warmth of the hot water he must have used radiating off of him. 

“Of course not!” You laugh nervously, lunging forward for the remote again. “Why would I check you out?”

Heeseung rolls his eyes at your shitty attempt to lie. 

“Because I took my shirt off for you.” He says, turning his head to look at you with a malicious smirk. “Was that not obvious?” 

You turn to look at him in surprise. Why the fuck would he even say that to you?!

“Do you like me better this way? Half naked?”

“What are you talking about?” You avoid him like your life depends on it, not wanting to admit that you definitely find him more attractive right now than you ever have, and the fact that he’s talking to you like this only further pushes you to want what you can’t have.

“You think I’m hot, don’t you?” He presses, bouncing his leg and keeping his eyes on the way your chest heaves at his words. 

“You want me, don’t you?” He continues pressing, repeating the question in a way that makes you feel forced to agree with him. 

“You’re gonna think about me the next time you–”

“Heeseung!” You shout, turning your entire body towards him with heat searing on your cheekbones. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re dating my sister.” You try to bring both him and yourself back to reality with that statement, more upset internally at the fact that you’re right about it. 

He’s dating your sister and yet, he’s…doing this. To you. And you fucking like it?

“Yeah, no shit.” He laughs you off, looking down at his lap and feeling a twitch at the way you don’t leave the room. Proving in some way that you definitely like it. “And I’m still right, aren’t I? You’re just playing hard to get.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded and utterly shocked by his blatant attempts to come onto you. Unfortunately, you’ve never been in this situation before and your eyes tell on you the same way your body language does. Of course he’s right, and you know you’re doing a terrible job of hiding it.

“Ah, Yeah.” He smiles, watching how you try to keep your eyes on his face but failing. “I’m right.” He continues, lifting his ass just slightly to accentuate the shape of his cock under these sweats for you to get a good eye full. 

You swallow, looking away from him and squeezing your legs together. It feels like such a sudden change of atmosphere. What was once a deniable crush on him becomes a confusing whirlwind wet panties and zero morality.

Does he get off on trying to rile you up? There’s no fucking way he’d actually go through with any of this. He’s just doing it because he thinks it’s cute that you want him. Right? 

You know for a fact that if Jay talked to you this way, you would have let him do whatever he wanted to you. But this is Heeseung. Not Jay, not Jake, not Sunghoon, with their shitty attempts at trying to pull off the exact thing. Oh god, this is bad. This is so bad. 

“I’m going to my room.” You swallow around the thick words, not at all wanting to leave the room solely because your body is giving in instantly to the fact that Heeseung is dirty talking to you for no goddamn reason. 

Perhaps it’s the fact that the one thing your sister has that you shouldn’t ever be able to obtain is doing this. Never did you think a mere idea that he’s attractive would turn into a split second decision of wanting him to fuck you. 

“No, you’re not.” He chuckles, spreading his legs a bit wider now and looking down at his lap, the same exact spot your eyes are looking at. “You’re going to try and keep your eyes on the screen, and we’re going to finish this movie.” 

Safe to say, that was a harder demand to follow than you anticipated and he seemed to fucking love raising his brow at you each time he caught your eye on him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By the time your sister returned home and essentially tamed her boyfriend from acting out any longer, you felt…insane. She tamed him without even knowing that he was acting out, not double-taking at all when she walked in to him spread out and shirtless on the couch with you struggling to watch the movie. You felt his confidence radiating, making the living room feel suffocating and unstable in terms of if you belong there or not. 

You find yourself in your room now, cuddling up in your bed with thoughts ruminating on how you have not one, not two, not three, but four men throwing themselves at you. You don’t recall ever actually giving them the idea that this is okay. Or maybe you did? You’re not sure.

You scroll through your text messages, old friends from back home falling into the background each time you open a message from Jake, or the other two that consistently check in with you like you’re some sort of prize to be won. 

Maybe you want to be a prize for some handsome guy to flaunt though, and you embody all of that confidence you got from, somehow, having the one man you’re not supposed to ever obtain parading around for you.

You embody it to text back. To be bold. To give in to the arousal that just slammed you in the gut, reeling from the very idea that there are men in this world who want to fuck you and you’re about fed up with pretending it’s a lie.

You: are you done with your game? 

You send the same message separately to all three of Heeseung’s friends, and somehow you’re still unaware that they all three share the information with each other in discord. 

“Are you done with your game?” Jake mimics in a feminine tone. “She’s playing with all of us.” 

Jay chuckles through the mic, damning them to be second and third place as he quickly texts back.

Jay: no, but I can be. Why? 

“To be fair, we’re kind of playing with her too.” Sunghoon cuts in, responding in his own way to your text and telling you that he’s bored, that he’s waiting on you to give him a date and time to pick you up, that he’s annoyed with his friends. 

“Well, yeah!” Jake bellows through the muffled mic. “I mean, look at her.”

“Oh, I’ve looked.” Sunghoon smiles at himself before snapping his eyes to the discord and noting how Jay has muted himself. 

“That mother fucker.”

Jake follows suit, noting exactly what Sunghoon is calling out before lending a groan of his own. 

“He’s trying so hard.” He rolls his eyes, knowing for a fact that Jay is probably already mid text-conversation with you.

And he would be right, as you lay against your pillows and let Jay’s conversation overpower the two other unopened texts from his friends. 

You: im a little overwhelmed right now, not sure how to explain it.

Jay: overwhelmed how?

You: well…

You take a second to yourself to breathe, feeling your entire body radiate with a feeling that can only resemble that of want, or perhaps need. You’ve sexted multiple times in your life, but never in a situation where you’re sexting because you’re overwhelmed more than just aroused. 

It’s the fact that you’re bringing it up this time after playing uninterested since any of them started texting you. You’ve dodged Jake’s dick pics, you’ve pushed off the date you agreed to go on with Sunghoon, and you’ve even gone as far as telling Jay you’re not interested at all.

Now though? You can imagine what he’d think of you to see you bring it up. Do you care though? Not that much. After all, you’re single, you’re consumed by the ability to do whatever you want, and Jay’s hot. 

You: im frustrated.

You: REALLY frustrated.…sexually

Jay: oh yeah? for me?

You stare at the screen, sending him an emoji that confirms your words for a third time before swiping away and looking at your inbox of available men. You know who else is hot? Sunghoon. 

You: hey if we went on a date, where would you take me?

Sunghoon: probably a movie or something idk, why? what would you wanna do?

You: id wanna go to your house

Sunghoon: and why is that, cutie?

And as you pick up conversations with both men, reeling from the attention, you think…hmm, you wanna know who else is hot? Jake. 

You: Jakeeeee

Jake: whaaaat :) 

You: remember that dick pic you sent to me then begged me to delete because it was an accident?

Jake: …

You: i didn’t delete it. 

Jake: you like it?

You: maybe. 

And you guess this is who you are now, plotting and setting up some form of sexting situation with three different men, who are all very close friends, who all very much seem to reciprocate your advances.

It’s actually pretty cool, as you lay here reading words from a different man every two minutes. Jay telling you exactly how he could help you with that frustration, Sunghoon asking you to explain what you’d wanna do in his house with him, and then Jake blatantly sending his cock to you again like he has nothing better to do. 

It’s all fun and games until things start to get real heated and you get kind of into it. Focusing on Jay’s little message of, “im helping you out here, you should help me too. send pics.” 

You ask yourself why you consider doing it before swiping away and landing on a video of Jake, face bright and smiling before lowering the camera. Blatantly fucking himself just because you said he had a nice dick. 

Your body is feeling permanent goosebumps because of those two, overwhelming you more than you could have imagined to see just how far they’d be willing to go to try and convince you to do the same for them.

Sunghoon brings a different form of arousal in his inbox though. Far more tame than the others, asking you to push, telling you to say all of the dirty things rather than him. Pushing for a date. 

Sunghoon: keep talking to me like this, ill come get you right now. 

You: not yet, just this for now.

Sunghoon: no pressure, are you touching yourself at least?

You: I am 

Sunghoon: yeah? thinking about me too right? 

You: yea

You’re lying. Kind of. Half-lying, at least, because you are thinking about him but you’re also thinking about Jake, and Jay, and sending nudes, and– Heeseung.

You’re thinking about Heeseung, and only because you can hear the shuffling in the room a wall over. Then? Thumping, right behind you as you lay in your bed. At this moment, you should be able to focus on the men blatantly trying to fuck you, but instead you’re reminding yourself of how Heeseung looked earlier.

And you’re listening. Thumping, thumping, thumping, until you hear–

“Don’t cover your mouth, she’s probably asleep anyway.” You hear Heeseung bellow out in a far-away voice. 

Great. They’re fucking. Just fucking great. Well, now what? You think, as you thumb back and forth between messages with frustration.

Your mind reels as you listen though. Imagining Heeseung more than anything being the force behind those thumps on your wall. His voice almost croaked when he regarded you directly to your sister while fucking her. Why can’t you stop thinking about him? All it took was a single day of marathoning movies?! A single shower?! 

God, you’ve got to seem desperate to be reacting this way. He probably thinks that shit is funny.  And as you now shove your headphones in your ears so as to not hear anymore of it, you stand on your feet and walk to your bathroom. You’re too interested in being fucked now, might as well give the boys something to look at, right?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“She really is trying to get away with it.” Sunghoon says, dumbfounded by the receipts provided by all three boys in their own private group chat.

Without Heeseung. 

“Yeah, but she sent me an ass pic.” Jay boasts, smiling to himself and silently saving the other provided images that you sent to his friends. 

“Whatever, I’m picking her up today for what she wants to call a “date”. She literally said she wanted me to pull her hair.” 

Jake gasps, offended.

“What the fuck? She said she wanted to pull my hair!” He groans. “Why am I the one she thinks would like that?! I have a big dick! I could–”

“Anyway,” Jay cuts him off. “She really is just like her sister. Heeseung doesn’t even know how I’ve seen his precious girlfriend’s pussy, only a matter of time before I’m seeing her little sister’s too.” 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, ignoring Jake’s huffing and puffing as he does his best not to laugh at Jay’s almost victory over your sister. 

“Well, I’m getting the girl this time.” He says, opening his texts and reading through the presumed masturbation session he shared with you last night. “Said she couldn’t wait to see me.” 

“I’m sure she could though.” Jay says, competitive, wanting to win. “You’ll see.”

Sunghoon can sense the competition in the air, knowing that Jay is probably coming up with some lame ass plan to get in your pants before he can even get the chance to pick you up tonight. 

And then there’s Jake.

“You know, maybe she’s right.” He rambles on, thinking hard about how your dynamic with the other two seems to differ greatly from the way you speak to him. “I do have better hair than both of you combined.”

And they stay like that, roasting each other while simultaneously lusting over the same girl until Heeseung gets online and pings them in the regular group chat for a round of gameplay. 

“What’s up, virgins?” Heeseung greets, booting up his game and noting the silence in the voice chat. 

“I said, what’s u–” 

“We heard you.” Sunghoon chimes in, preparing himself for a direct mission of humbling the fuck out of him. “Call me a virgin all you want, doesn’t change the fact that I’m getting my dick wet tonight.” 

“Please.” Heeseung laughs, rolling his eyes as he waits for them to get into the game lobby. “Who would stick your dick in them anyway?” 

“Your girlfriend’s little sister.” Sunghoon announces. 

Excuse me?

“In your dreams.” Heeseung tries to laugh, but is interrupted yet again by his two other friends laughing first. “Wait, you’re serious?” 

Sunghoon hums a confirmation, which leads Heeseung to wonder what the fuck happened in the span of one single night. He could have sworn he had you in the palm of his hand on that couch. He knew you heard how good he fucks your sister. 

There’s no way. 

“Nah, she’s already got a crush on someone else.” He continues to brush Sunghoon off. “And it’s not you.”

“Yeah, because it’s me.” Jay laughs, bombarding Heeseung with another low blow. “Why else would she take her shorts off for me?”

Anger? Yes. Jealousy? Also yes.

“Bullshit.” Heeseung calls out, staring at his discord and the way his friend’s names light up every time they laugh.

 “What are they trying to do, Jake? Spill.”

Jake silences his laughing. 

“Oh, you think he didn’t get nudes too?” Jay laughs harder. “She sent them to all three of us last night. Different pictures too, she wasn’t skimping on the goods, I can tell you that much.”

Heeseung takes a moment to breathe through his nose. “And just why did she send you nudes?”

“I didn’t even ask for them, Hee, honest!” Jake tries to get on his good side. “I guess showing her my dick did something for her though.” That did not get him on Heeseung’s good side. 

“Why the fuck  is she sending you guys nudes?” He asks again, this time slightly raising his voice. 

You should have been sending him nudes to prove your insatiable lust that you must have. Right? Like, why not him? If anyone? 

“Oh, right.” Sunghoon finally reveals the truth. “First person to fuck her wins.” 

“Is that so?” Heeseung leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with narrowed eyes at their stupid usernames. 

Competition is what he’s best at. 

“Yeah.” Sunghoon confirms. “And by the end of the night, I’ll be the winner.” 

“That’s what he thinks, anyway.” Jay snickers. “She’s already texted me a cute little good morning like she didn’t sext three guys last night.” 

“Mhm.” Jake hums into the mic. “Me too.”

Sunghoon tilts his head in confusion at that, now checking his phone and noting that he hasn’t received his own good morning from you yet. Weird. 

“You guys are aware that you can’t do that, right?” Heeseung chimes in, knowing that he’s playing their game now. And he’s good at playing games. “You seriously can’t be trying to rail my girlfriend’s sister.”

“Yeah. We are, actually.” Jay overtakes the conversation. “Besides, she wants it.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You wake up feeling insanely embarrassed by how you acted like night. 

Tonight’s date with Sunghoon probably won’t happen. There’s no way you can live up to the confidence you showed him. 

You: hey can we raincheck?

Sunghoon: no wtf? 

He reacts negatively, because his victory is now being ripped from his hands by the prize herself. It’s not even just like, the fact that he wants to fuck you just to say he did it before anyone else could. It’s the fact that you’re kind of cool. Incredibly hot, and super willing to slut yourself out. 

Just his type. He loves being able to tame girls and keep them locked between his legs, with his cock in their throat. 

You: sorry i just don’t feel good today, can try this weekend? 

Sunghoon sighs, sending you a short approval before focusing back on the intense game playing out on his screen. 

“She canceled on me.” Sunghoon complains, shooting a player dead between the eyes before crouching and running off to find his next kill of frustration. “Jay, what did you fucking do?”

Jay snorts, smirking on his end of the screen, camping like an asshole in a bathroom and waiting for some unsuspecting dad of six to run by and get his cheeks clapped by some idiot with the username of DADDYJAY02. 

“Told her I’d fuck her real good if she cancels.” He jokes, mostly focused on the current game at hand.

Heeseung is pleased to learn that you’re skipping the date though, leading him to believe that maybe he was right in thinking he’s got you in the palm of his hand. 

Still doesn’t change the fact that you’ve got nudes in your phone. Nudes that you sent to three fucking losers that couldn’t even come close to doing what he could do for you. 

“He’s talking shit. She hasn’t left her room all morning.” Heeseung says. “I already told you guys that she has a crush on someone, and it’s not any of you. So, you can go ahead and kiss your bullshit sex-game goodbye.”

Jake pipes in now, listening to the sheer amount of confidence coming from Heeseung and Jay.

“I dunno.” He breathes, picking people off one by one in his own, less-than-great playstyle. “She’s still texting me and being all cute. Maybe she just thinks you guys are weird.” 

“What did she say?” Heeseung asks, now more focused on what Jake might say rather than the fact that Jay just got downed and needs help. 

“Something about how she feels embarrassed about everything but likes talking to me, heart emoji and all.” He says in a nonchalant tone, now being downed himself in game. “Me and Jay are down.”

“Stay down then.” Heeseung scoffs, ignoring both dying friends as he focuses on the win. 

“Dude, fucking pick me up.” Jay now argues, throwing his hands up at the gameplay, watching Heeseung blatantly run straight past him. “Heeseung! Pick me the fuck up!” 

He snickers in response. 

“Stop trying to fuck her and I’ll pick you up.” 

“I’d rather die.” Jay argues back, accepting his in-game death and instead pulling his phone out to text you. “In fact, I’ll text her right now.”

Sunghoon, listening to the chaos and still neck-to-neck in terms of kills with Heeseung, tries to ignore the fact that he’s losing the only game he cares about winning right now. 

“All three of you are starting to get annoying.” Sunghoon mumbles into the microphone, killing the last remaining player and stretching his arms out in a sigh.

“You’re just mad because she’s ghosting you for me.” Jake sings out happily.

Heeseung listens, seething in his head about how they’re really just gonna keep doing this shit and decides, fine. 

He’s already playing the game they’re playing. He’s been playing it for much longer, actually, with those panties he took from your dresser when he built it. With the way he placed your bed against the same wall his bed is against, just so you could listen and suffer for his cock to stuff you full instead. 

If it’s a fucking competition they want, they’re gonna get it. 

And with that? He logs off without so much as a goodbye before heading to his bathroom. For the first time in years caring more and more about how he dresses and carries himself just to see you want him. 

He styles his hair, brushes his teeth, perfects his hair with the hood up on his hoodie, and then heads straight to your room. 

“Hey, Sunghoon said he’s supposed to be going on a date with you tonight.” He says as soon as he gets to your door.

You look panicked.

“Oh, he told you?” You say, avoiding eye contact with him because goddamn does he look good today but also, what the fuck Sunghoon?! 

“Yeah.” He answers in a less than entertained tone. 

“Did he–” You pause, now looking at him and his stupid attractive stance against your door. “–say anything else?” 

“Oh, he told me all about it.” He admits to you now, loving the way you curl into your own embarrassment. “I did warn you, you know.”

You blink at him, wanting to hide from the entire situation. Especially because the only reason you went for his friends was because he got you all choked up. 

“Still, I thought you’d tame yourself a little bit. I mean– Jay too? Really?” Heeseung starts to pick you apart with the information he’s learned today. “And Jake?”

You groan out, covering your face with both hands. 

“God, I don’t know what I was thinking.” You try to explain. “I just–”

“You were wet.” He answers for you, smiling at the way you try to run from the truth. “So wet for me that you ran to my friends?” 

Only now do you move your hands from your face and look at him. Shocked that he got straight to the point, and is entirely correct.

“You got their hopes up, you know.” He continues, taking control of the situation as he crosses his arms and leans his head back and against your doorframe. “Right after getting my hopes up.” 

“What are you–” 

“You know what I’m talking about, and you know exactly what I’m doing.” He cuts you off, speaking for you, thinking for you, not letting you get a word in to doubt a single thing he’s saying. “You know what you’re doing too. So, look at me next time I come in here and call you out on your bullshit.”

Your eyes stay on him, full of embarrassment and a sense of guilt. You feel scolded, which is so fucking wrong and weird for it to come from him of all people. 

“Time to stop pretending now, babe. If you want this–” He says, looking down between his legs and grabbing his bulge. “You’ll stay away from my friends.” 

And then he just…leaves with a smile? Doesn’t even let you respond? 

“I’m going to the store, we don’t have shit to eat in this house.” You hear him complain as he walks down the hallway, acting as if he didn’t just word-fuck you with the truth that you weren’t quite ready to accept. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’re losing it. Truly, you’re losing every ability in your body to ignore the fact that you not only think about Heeseung in ways you shouldn’t, you want him in ways that should be a fucking crime.

Seeing him grab himself like that in your doorway? Fuck, if he hadn’t of walked away right after, you very well may have found yourself with your ankles up by your ears, begging him to use it on you. 

No self restraint at this point, and you don’t even care. 

Your phone is long forgotten as you pace your room, wondering if you should leave the house too, just to find a sex shop that has a Heeseung sized and shaped cock for you to fuck yourself on in order to get this intense feeling of need out of you. 

That’s really all it took for him to make you go fucking feral for it? A little bit of flirting? A little bit threatening? A grab of his cock, practically dangling it in front of you like the two of you are allowed to be having those kinds of moments together? 

Fuck him for knowing how to get you horny more than you know how to do it yourself. Since when did you like men to act that way towards you? Since fucking when did you get off on a boyfriend that your sister intends to fucking marry?!

It’s so fucked up, and it’s equally fucking hot to you because it’s fucked up. 

Out of everything your sister has that you don’t, Heeseung is the one you want most. And he’s just fucking…he’s just–

God damn it. You sigh, pacing back and forth, checking the time on your phone and ignoring all of your unread texts. Heeseung has only been gone for a total of ten minutes and it feels like you’ve been pacing for hours.

Throbbing between your legs at the small glimpses of his size under whatever pants he wears. With his hair, and his skin, and his stupid, shit-eating smirk that he throws at you. Telling you he knows. Showing you that he likes it. 

You stop your pacing for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut tight to try and flutter the images of him out of your head. Trying to get the reality to come back to you. 

What’s fucked up is that it is reality that he’s doing this to you. You can’t avoid it like it’s a guilty little wet dream you’d be able to hide. 

It’s real.

And, well, fuck it. You love your sister just as much as you always have, even as you want to fuck her boyfriend. Even as her boyfriend seemingly wants to fuck you.

Even as you leave your room, entering their room for the first time. 

Even as you inspect their bed, the placement suspiciously right on the other side of your own bed against the wall. 

Even as you smell the familiar scent of Heeseung on one of the pillows and instantly throw yourself on the bed against it, shoving it between your legs in a desperate and obvious show of how much you really, really, fucking want it. 

And if this is what it feels like to lose your fucking mind? So be it. 

His pillow is soft, offering little pressure to your clit as you writhe against it, but you moan louder than you ever have while pleasuring yourself. For once, the house is empty and for once, you have a point of arousal that doesn’t involve porn.

Your mind falls into images of him, and the way he moves his body during every day instances. Then, to the way he sounded when he fucked your sister in this very same bed. He must fuck hard, because that consistent thumping on your wall seemed to prove it already. 

Fuck, you hope he fucks hard. 

You saw the outline of it a few times by now too, so big even while flaccid and uninterested in you. He must know how to contain himself too. Real calm, real collected when it comes to how he’d probably use it. 

The images swim up and down behind your eyes as you writhe your clit against the corner of his pillow for what feels like ages, knowing your panties are being pushed into the folds of your wet core, feeling your shorts skew as you move, back and forth, stretching with each grind forward. 

You’re aware that parts of your pussy are out in the open between grinds, feeling the soft material of his pillow rub you only slightly raw with the force of your movements, and you simply don’t care. You’re home alone, remember? 

Wait. How long have you been doing this again?

“Oh, fuck yeah.” You hear from behind you, startling you into a defensive position of curling around the pillow. “Bumping it real good, weren’t you? Right up on my pillow?” Heeseung laughs, standing just inside of the room with a step much quieter than he’d normally have when he’s walking around. 

“Fuck, that’s so gross.”  He snickers with hooded eyes and a triumphant smirk as he crosses his arms. 

“You really thought I wouldn’t find out? Like I wouldn’t be able to smell it? I smelled you when I walked in.”

God, the fucking horror that replaces the arousal hits you harder than you ever knew it could as you jump to your feet on buckled knees and try to mutter out an apology.

“I’m sorry.” 

He just said you were gross. He said he could smell you while scrunching his nose. 

“I’m sorry, Heeseung, I’m sorry.” You continue, trying to make your way past him ultimately so you can lock yourself in your bedroom to never come out. 

“Hmm, what makes you think you could just come in here and fuck my things?” He isn’t going to let you go that easy, of course he isn’t.

The thing about him is, he knows he’s got you now. That little sex bet going with his friends? They’re done for.

 Full control of the whole situation is right here in the palm of his hand, and the proof is that embarrassing wet spot you left on his pillow. This was all he needed. You made him chase, and he’ll be damned if he gives you what you want now so easily. 

It’s your turn to ache with the same feeling between your legs. You’re going to be fucking gone by the time he finally gives it to you. 

“I thought y–” You try to explain, not looking him in the eye when he holds you in place by the arm from leaving. 

“Thought I wanted you over her?” He mutters to you in a hot whisper, pulling you back and against him, dipping his head and chasing your line of sight to force you to look at him. “Oh my god, how sad.” 

You try look away, entirely confused, embarrassed, fucking ashamed. 

Never have you let guilt take you over like this because you’ve never allowed yourself to be in a position to feel so goddamn stupid.

He’s going to tell her what you did. You might as well go pack your shit now and get ready to go back home because this was not okay. 

“I’m sorry. I misread…” You’re being forced to look at him, but you still keep your eyes on the bottom of his chin rather than his eyes, feeling his hands squeeze you, not at all noticing how rock fucking hard he is due to the sheer terror you feel at this moment.

“Mm, no you didn’t.” He explains, eyes scanning over your flushed face, tears prickling in your eyes. 

And once again, fucking confusion. The weight of guilt lifts off of you at his words, allowing you to look him straight in the eyes this time. Urging him to tell you that he does want you. That everything you thought previously was true.

That he was trying to come onto you. 

“You were throwing your legs open for just anyone.” He lands the blow harshly, with his breath hitting you square in the forehead. “I just wanted to see if you were really as slutty as Jay said you were.”

A direct blow to any confidence you ever could have had walking around this house. 

You fell for it. Your sister is dating a piece of shit, and somehow you still find him so attractive. You still wish he was lying. 

You still wish he liked you, or wanted you on some level.

“God, such a cry baby too.” He rolls his eyes now, breathing in deep before releasing his hold on you. “Go cry in your room, I’m sure you still have an orgasm to get, don’t you?” 

You refuse the eye contact again as you try to walk away in a way that you wish could make you disappear. He’s making damn sure to shame you straight into the dirt, and it makes you feel so unclean. 

“Don’t you?” He repeats with a louder voice as you walk away, stepping into your room, and closing the door behind you.

Yeah, you’re still probably going to get that orgasm. He knows it. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Heeseung is a nightmare to be around. You’re annoyed that you didn’t notice it before and actually wanted to be around him before that mishap with his pillow. 

You can’t read him. 

When your sister is home, he ignores you for the most part. He spends his time on his PC yelling with friends, he scoffs at you, looks at you like you look and sound ridiculous any time you say something, yet, when he’s with your sister, he’s so, so, loving. 

All over her, really. Hands on her waist, back, thighs, ass. He’s so sexual with her in front of you, to the point that you can’t make eye contact at all with either of them. 

To the point that you miss it every time when he checks to see if you’re watching. 

What’s worse about Heeseung is that you think now that he has no interest in you. Everything he did really was for an ego boost, or like some shitty game he was playing. It got to the point that, yeah, you’re sexting at least one of his friends as often as possible despite never giving them a reason to come over, and certainly not going to see them yourself. 

It’s like a bandaid as you lay in your bed night after night listening to Heeseung on the other side of the wall draw you into a state of lust, pining, and absent passion. So vocal, when he’s fucking her.  You always feel alone when he does it, with your fingers slamming away and offering pleasure that never gets you there. You always come up short, never being able to get off. 

Even with all of that, he still flirts.

Which fucks you up even more. He’ll make you feel so awful about everything that’s happened, everything you actively say or do, and then turn around and smile at you when your sister is at work. 

He’ll offer to make dinner for you. He’ll do your laundry and fold it, always mixing his clothes into the pile by accident. He’ll touch your waist. He’ll brush his hand past yours when he catches you in the hallway while walking by. 

When you try to flirt back, or look at him for too long though? Hope in your eyes and weight lifting from your shoulders at his hidden actions? He shuts you down instantly. 

Like this morning, when you left your room and went to the kitchen to make coffee, he was already there. He came up behind you real close, rubbing what you presume to be his soft dick against your ass as he lifted and grabbed the filters down for you. 

And when you choked up and looked at him? He could see that little glint of hope in your eyes.

“I was just helping. Jesus christ, you’re more needy than your sister.” 

Or that time yesterday, when you were lounging on the couch and he came out after a shower in those same fucking sweat pants, without a shirt again, and sat down next to you. Spreading his legs wide, smirking, and watching you try to avoid his eyes. 

“Can’t even look at me without getting wet, huh?” 

Safe to say, Heeseung is playing the game with his friends a little too hard. Knowing that at any point during the day if he wanted to push you to the floor and take you, he fucking could. 

So that leaves you now, sitting here feeling about as crazy as you did the day you ran into his room and started fucking his pillow. Every day is felt with sexual frustration that you don’t know what to do with, even sexting his friends, even receiving their videos and hot words, even with their promises of multiple orgasms and hour long sessions of head, your frustration isn’t satiated.

You worry it never will be if Heeseung doesn’t move out, or like, fall out a window or something.

And as you leave your room to go back to the kitchen for a snack, of course you note the open door of the office that is far too silent compared to thirty minutes earlier. 

Of course, Heeseung has trained you to be entirely too curious about what he’s doing at all times when the two of you are alone.

Of course, you don’t turn and walk away the moment you see his back turned, shoulder moving, and a brightly colored hentai flashing across his monitor. 

In fact, you stand there solely because you can’t deny yourself of this.

“Was wondering if you’d come in here.” He mutters through a breath, turning his face for a moment before pumping his hand harder. “S’only fair that I let you watch too, right?”

He’s bringing up the pillow incident. Again. Like he hasn’t brought it up a million times since it happened as a form of shaming you. Telling you how it smelled, laughing and asking how many times you planned to do it behind his back. 

You’re still frozen though, coming to terms with the fact that he could call you an ugly whore and you’d probably accept it at face value just to watch the very scene in front of you.

Are you selfish or are you just desperate? 

Maybe a bit of both.

“Come over here.” He says to your silence, now swiveling his chair around and ignoring the animated fuck-fest on screen. 

You take in an inhale, trying not to show it by looking away from him, but ultimately failing when your eyes fall straight to where his hand is in his pants. The tent created by the sheer size of him leaving far too much for you to think about. 

Anyone in this situation would call him a loser. Jerking it to hentai? Looking the way he does? Being unemployed and doing this at like, eleven in the morning? You can tell he hasn’t slept too, and that’s entirely something a simp would do. Something a virgin would do.

But, you want him. You’ve never been so attracted to someone, actually. He sees you swallow at the image too, smirking and stilling his hand. 

“Shit, you’re really just going to watch me?” 

Yeah. You figured that was obvious to him, considering he already thinks you’re gross, embarrassing, and shameless. It’s not like you not watching at this point would change his mind about you. 

So, you just stand there, watching, waiting.

Until he gives you a breathless chuckle and a shake of his head. 

“Come on, get a better look then.” He encourages you through a soft moan, sliding his fingers on the underside of his length, feeling the pre-cum drip out. 

There it is again. Him acting interested. 

It’s really the worst because you give in every single time, clinging to the hope that maybe he really is interested this time, only to be shot down time and time again. 

Right now is no different from the countless other times he’s flirted just to laugh at you trying to flirt back. Even as you walk towards him with shaking hands gripping the bottom of your own shirt for comfort, you know he’s probably just going to pull his hand out of his pants and probably present a very large cucumber or something before laughing at the fact that you really thought. 

Except, he doesn’t do that. 

You can see the wet spot at the top of the tent his cock creates, right where the head rubs up against the fabric and it proves that he’s really touching himself right now.

“Lower.” He instructs under hooded eyes, head leaned back against his chair, body slouched and relaxed. “On the floor.”

Ah, the fucking power he has is electrifying. You really just do everything he says in the hopes that someday, he’ll put it in you. In the hopes that someday, he will show you what it is that your sister loves so much about him. 

The way you do lower yourself to your knees on his floor, sitting right there in front of him with your eyes glued to the hidden act of what he’s doing to himself? God, you’re dirty.

He chews on his lower lip as he works himself up to the image of you simply on your knees, gripping your shirt like it’s the only thing holding you from falling off of the earth. So pretty, so complacent, so willing. 

Fuck, he knows his friends want you and he can imagine that they must furiously get off to this very image themselves, thought up all by themselves. Except they’ve actually seen your body, Heeseung hasn’t seen shit.

“Take it off.” He says through a breath, the words shaking with each pump of his fist as he tries to stimulate the whole length of his cock without pulling it out. 

It’s a tight fit in his pants right now, but he isn’t going to show you a damn thing. 

You blink up at him, your eyes shining and bright at the fact that you’re fine not seeing it. You seem totally satisfied just watching him pleasure himself. 

Oh god, you’re fucking perfect. 

Even more perfect when you do remove your shirt, tits sitting nice and naked for him to stare at harder. Big. Plush. Prettier than the ones that are drawn to perfection by horny men on his screen just to the side of him. Prettier than your sister’s, even. 

“Ah, yeah.” He comments, hand pumping faster, cock leaking more. “Just sit right there and look pretty for me.”

And, you do. Hands now pressed into the carpet beneath you, gripping the texture much like you did your shirt just to press your tits together for him. Just so he wants you right now, even if he won’t ten minutes from now. 

He really does just watch you too. The image of you alone like this seemingly just enough to get him there when you notice his head slam back against the headrest of his chair again.

Bottom lip bitten, eyebrows raised, a held breath, and then he’s releasing that same breath along with his cum. All into his hand and against his pants as he pumps harder through the sensitivity of his orgasm. 

Eyes falling back to you, darker this time, he smirks as he slides his hand from his pants, careful not to lose any of that thick, milky, cum, and tipping his fingers at you. 

“Ahh-” He opens his mouth, speaking to you as if he’s feeding you a snack, and for some reason, you mimic it.

Your mouth opens as you lean forward and he slips his fingers in, relishing in the feeling of your frantic tongue licking up the taste of him.

So desperate, god, you want it so bad and he can see it.

He can feel it. 

And by the time you’ve licked his fingers clean, eyes tearing up because you know he’s about to mock you for how much you loved the taste of it, he pulls his hand back and says nothing.

He doesn’t even smile at you when he stands up, staring down at you like he owns you. 

You’re just sitting on the floor shirtless, avoiding his eye contact and preparing for whatever fucked up thing he wants to say about it, salty sweet remnants of his flavor in your mouth, and near tears in your eyes. 

“You really did that.”  He says before stepping to the side of you and heading for the door. “Swallowed all of it too.”

You did, and of course you’re ashamed despite sitting here wet and aching. You nod as you stare at the floor in shame, hands clasped in your lap.

“Good girl.” He breathes out to you before leaving for the bathroom, not another word muttered to you.

And as Heeseung stands looking at himself in the mirror, chest heaving as he reels from what just took place, he smiles. God, the horror you must feel right now. If you knew how much he liked this and how willing you were to take what you can get, you’d probably be the happiest girl alive. 

You’re so willing to feel ashamed, so willing to be shamed, just to look at him? Just to see him do this? Just to suck all of his cum off of his fingers? 

You’re fucking crazy. 

If you knew how he silently jerked off, breathing in that pillow you had against your pussy, you’d probably orgasm on the spot. If you fucking knew how he stole your panties the very day you moved in, you’d probably give him the ones you’re wearing now just to please him. 

Ah, so perfect. It’s only a matter of time now.

Only a matter of time before he wins and shuts his friends up for fucking good, because honestly, it’s getting old now to hear his friends pretend they have a shot at this with you.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Living with your sister became something you never meant for it to be. You’re not living with her, you’re living with fucking guilt, and confusion, and insatiable lust for the man she’s supposed to be pleasing every night. 

In fact, the amount you see her is far less than you originally thought. She works so much, and when she’s not working overtime just to come home and love on her asshole of a boyfriend, and tell you sweet goodnights like you didn’t eat his cum off his fingers, she’s sleeping away the exhaustion of being the only good person in this house. 

Unfortunately for her though, you don’t care.

You appreciate the freedom she’s given to you on a silver platter, with a nice new bedroom suite and good food in the fridge, but you know she didn’t bring you here with the intention of giving you this much freedom.

She gave you the ability to fuck and be fucked whenever and where ever you want, but the choice wasn’t meant to be Heeseung. With his ever changing moods, annoying gamer rage, and disconcerting need to flirt and shame you. 

You can’t believe you’re sitting here across from her before yet another one of her shifts, drinking the same juice, eating the same breakfast, pretending like you haven’t tasted the same cum she has. 

You can’t believe that while growing up, you always shared her stuff against her will. She hated finding you wearing one of her favorite tops, or her new pairs of shoes. She would get so mad and all you can think now is that, surely she would kill you if she found out what else you’ve used behind her back.

And when you watch Heeseung kiss her goodbye, he seems all too entertained with the situation. Watching you pretend like you don’t want him, watching your sister be blissfully unaware of who his dick twitches for.

  Watching, watching, watching. 

Staring, really, at you through the kiss. Up until she leaves for the day and you’re left staring back at him. Heeseung lends you a small wave with an uncaring face, wiggling the same fingers he fucked your mouth with in your face, almost seeming like he’s attempting to lure you to open those same lips again for him.

Almost as if to remind you that you’re pathetic. 

And goddammit. You fucking are.

That’s why, of course, you’ve found yourself time and time again in these same text messages. Fully guilty of leading these guys on but not nearly as guilty as you feel each time you show how bad you need it to the one man who doesn’t deserve it. 

Jay, if he could, would probably fuck you right on the doorstep by this point with the amount of nudes, phone calls, and blatant shows of sexual interest. You can sense how annoyed he is with cumming all by himself using your photos, but like, that’s very attractive of him to wait.

Sunghoon? So frustrated with you for never following up with him, but entirely willing to fuck you with his dirty words and images of what he’d love to do if you’d just get the fuck out of the house for a day.

And Jake, ah, Jake. The cutest. One you’d take all of this frustration out on, the one who would probably apologize to you for everything bad that’s ever happened to you mid-orgasm solely because he wouldn’t know what else to say or do when he’s feeling so good.

Sexting any of them, or all of them, is really your only relief from the man who looms around this house. But at this point, even that is doing nothing for you.

Even as you read Jay’s texts, knowing he’s actively playing video games at the same time and not jerking off like he claims. 

Jay: take a new one, i want more material 

You: you’re not even touching yourself, you know I can hear heeseung yell at you right?

Jay: what? you think I can’t multitask? 

You: is that why he’s yelling then? 

Jay: one handing it and still got more kills than him, yea

God, he’s too confident while being such a fucking loser, but yeah, you’ll send him a new picture. You’ll go ahead and send it to Jake too. And Sunghoon, of course.

Then you pause with your fingers on the screen, zooming in on your body and checking it. Only half wondering what would happen if you took a pussy picture. Only half thinking of sending it to Heeseung. Not the other three, just him.

Half wondering turns to full wondering, as you listen to him yell something about Jay going down again mid match, proving that he probably was, in fact, fucking his fist mid-game and absolutely not getting more kills.

Heeseung’s voice sounds so full of anger. So loud, cracking in pitch even. It’s hard to imagine someone sounding so stupid being able to act in a way that’s made you feel so lost and ashamed of wanting him. 

Yet, he did. And that’s why you decide right at this moment, you’ll always give in to his flirting even while knowing he’ll mock you and make fun of you for it. You’ve already dealt with it to the point that you’re used to it. At least you still get something out of it, right? 

At least, maybe, he’ll give you something else to feel ashamed of today, right? 

And as you take that photo, lying back on your bed, shifting your panties to the side and spreading your lips open for the camera, you snap a photo of your hole for him. Right there, already wet just imagining him thinking you’re pathetic for doing this. 

At this point, you’re not feeling too ashamed of it right now. After all, he jerked off looking at you like there wasn’t at least three holes being fucked and filled on the screen behind him before. So…

You send the photo to him, ignoring the displayed message from Jay stating, “you only sent this one to me, right?” 

And then you wait. 

And you wait.

And wait.

You can still hear Heeseung yelling his gaming talk, but you watch his text messages like a hawk. Feeling nervous, terrified, embarrassed, shamed, turned on, curious, wet.

Each time he’s silent, you stare at the messages, up until you notice that he’s opened it. 

He saw it.

You wait for footsteps, you wait to hear him tell his friends that he’ll be back. You wait for him to stomp in here and call you gross. 

And you wait more.

And more. 

Up until you can’t wait any longer and you find yourself shifting up and off of your bed, leaving your phone behind as you make your way to the office. He’s facing away from you as usual, the character on screen on a swivel as the scope of the gun searches for a head to shoot, and then– his phone.

Right there beside him, open, the image pulled up. 

“What are you trying to do?” He says, but you can’t tell if it’s for you or his friends. 

You stand there, pussy looking much the same as it was in that photo, except now with your shorts back on you, and panties back in place. 

“Trying to fuck me over right now?” He continues when a kill screen shows up and he’s got a few seconds to lift his hand from the mouse. Not even looking at you, he beckons you with two fingers and pushes his chair back just slightly.

By the time you get up beside him, he puts his fingers over his mouth, glancing up at you, then down at his phone and tapping it. Immediately after tapping, he points to the floor in front of him, scooting back more to make room for you.

The silent conversation is loud as he narrows his eyes at you when you sink to your knees on the floor in front of him. You crawl under the desk, legs quivering at the idea that he’s absolutely ignoring you, but also inviting you. 

As if he’s feeding you what you want. As if he doesn’t need this too. 

And maybe he doesn’t, you think, as you carefully reach forward to his knees, feeling him push his chair in and trap you under the desk. He doesn’t look hard, proving that he’s simply allowing you to quench your thirst for his cum, surely. 

Allowing you to be pathetic. 

Allowing you to see it. 

And finally, you do. He’s even polite enough to lift his ass up a bit just to let you pull his sweats down to get it out. Slowly growing at the feeling of your breath against it. 

You breathe deeply before you press your lips against it instantly, darting your tongue out curiously and closing your eyes to relish in the first taste of his skin. It’s a clean taste, and despite him not being fully hard for this just yet, it only drives you to do better, to do more, until he actually wants you to do this for him, not just for you. 

You could argue that it seemed much bigger when he was jerking it off in front of you, then again, he’s still not fully hard yet. 

It actually hurts your feelings that you’re the one needing to get him horny right now. After all, you are clearly hungry for it, not him.

And you take him into your mouth again, and again, feeling him stiffen by the second. Still, his focus isn’t on you or what you’re doing down here. 

Until it is, anyway. 

By this point, you’re actually struggling to take him into your mouth, and you can argue he’s only at half-girth as you try. The top of your head bumps his desk every few seconds, which forces you to keep him in your mouth. 

Kind of terrifying actually, to have put something in your mouth so readily only to regret the fact that his cock is essentially locked in by the small pace you’re trapped in, and it’s only swelling up more and more by the second. 

Hardening until your throat is constricting around it, forcing you to gag and search for breath.

It’s hard to breathe as you cough and drool around him, frantically trying to pull off of him and hitting your head hard against the desk when you do.

He fucking chuckles at it before you feel his hand slip under the desk with you and grab his now fully hard cock. What does he do with it? He fucking slaps it straight across your face before forcing it right back between your lips. 

You hate to say how wet that made you, and you hate even more to say that you kind of like the feeling of your throat getting bruised. Willing yourself to gag around him again, trying to twitch your tongue against the weight of his far too big length in your mouth. 

You don’t want him to laugh though, you want him to fucking moan. All for his friends to hear. After all, it’s the first time you’re going down on him and it’ll probably be the last time too, right?

Not to mention, you’ve barely had experiencing sucking dick as it is, he should he fucking helping you get through this.

But he’s not. He’s just…playing his fucking game. Hell, the twitches of his length against your gag reflex is probably more for the kill he gets rather than the way your dripping spit all over and down his balls. 

This is embarrassing, and yet– you love it. You fucking adore it, with the way your clit aches just at the thought that he’s letting you put your mouth on him at all.

Maybe it really is for you, and not for him. 

“Ah, fuck.” Heeseung groans, probably more to his game than to you.

His hand shoots under the table, right to the top of your head as his other balances himself on the seat of his chair. There, he holds your head down on him and angles his hips just slightly to fuck up. Gaging you repeatedly, holding back his own moans at the way you’re just going to let him use you like this.

And as quickly as it happened, that short grunt from him not going unnoticed, he’s drawing his hands back above his desk, relaxing his body, and giving back the control. 

Already, you can hear his fingers against the keyboard again.

“Back in the game, Jay, to the right!” He shouts, showing you that he absolutely just fucked your face because he got fucking downed in the game. 

And you continue, trying to give him that same feeling that he forced on you just now, and never quite getting the same force behind your lips or tongue for him. His cock is throbbing though, choking you with each dribble and spurt of precum, up until he’s pulling the same trick.

Fucking up, holding your throat down on him, for just a bit until he’s back in the game and playing.

This happens for what feels like forever. To the point that surely, you’re drenching the carpet under you, and you’re starting to feel insecure in the fact that he hasn’t cum yet. Are you really just…bad at giving head?

Heeseung’s legs shift as you continue, slowing your pace and trying to rub your jaw through it with your free hand that’s not gripping the fabric of his lowered sweats. You do this up until his cock is suddenly sliding further and further out of your throat when he rolls his chair back. 

Ah. 

Oh.

Oh, my god. You think, getting the first glimpse of his face since you started. Blown out pupils staring down under his desk, hair a mess, mic right up against his smirking lips. 

He looks…like he enjoyed it? Maybe? Are you getting ahead of yourself?

“You want more?” He asks, straight into the mic and confusing his friends. “I can see how much you want it, baby, come on. I’ll give it to you.”

You stare up at him, pretending that when you crawl out from under the desk and try to stand, you can’t hear the way he turns up the volume of his friends responding in confusion. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You hear the familiar voice of Sunghoon. “If you’re gonna fuck your girlfriend, at least mute yourself, dick.” 

You nervously glance to his game that’s still full screened. You knew he was gaming with his friends since this morning, but for him to talk to you like this as if they can’t hear him? 

“They’ll want to hear you.” He comments now, alerting his friends that he’s obviously not talking to them. “Trust me, they don’t fucking shut up about you.” 

That’s when they realize.

“No fucking way.” Jake blurts. “There’s no way.”

Jay remains silent, staring at his unanswered text message before minimizing his game and dropping his mouth in surprise.

“Come on then, you already let me fuck that pretty mouth, might as well, right?” He says to you again, this time lifting his hips and tapping his desk. “Bend over for me.” 

What you think is just an unmuted mic, unfortunately, is much, much more than that. You see, Heeseung likes to stream to his friends, back and behind his full screened game was the image of him suffering through your need to deep throat him half to death.

He remained calm, at first not exactly wanting his friends to know. Not wanting them to see you like this, and most certainly not wanting them to have any images of you to get off to. But now? Oh, to win their own game in front of them? 

‘Fuck, look at that.” He says, watching you take the spot in front of him and bend over his desk, keyboard buttons pressing in and glitching the screen out momentarily due to your tits lying against it. “Now look up.” He instructs. 

“No. Fucking. Way.” Jake blurts again once he minimized his game and instantly saw you on the camera, looking so out of it, so unaware. “Sunghoon, are you seeing this?”

Jay was still watching with his mouth agape, cock leaking as it always does for you except now?  It’s the fact that Heeseung is really just gonna do something so awful to your sister? He’s really  going to fuck you right here, right now? With proof?!

“Heeseung, don’t.” Sunghoon warns, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen in front of him. 

“Don’t what? Sunghoon?” Heeseung smiles as he reaches his hands around the front of you, pulling you back by groping both of your tits. “Fuck your girl in front of you?”

You just listen, shocked that Sunghoon is actually asking Heeseung to stop. Shocked that they apparently have beef or something, over you? Surely not. 

“No–” Sunghoon chokes back. “Don’t turn off the camera.” 

“Camera?!” You panic, trying to break free of his grip on your chest, but he holds you there, pressing you closer with your back to his chest, his cock throbbing under your thigh. 

“What? Now you have an issue with cameras?” Heeseung seethes sarcastic words into your hair, squeezing your tits harder now. “Relax, baby, I know they’ve already seen you like this.” 

“Right?” Heeseung now directs his attention to the screen, lunging forward to quickly minimize the full-screened game, getting a good look at his friends and you in the camera against him. 

The image is wildly attractive to him for many reasons. For one, he can see himself on the screen with his point of desire sitting right here on his lap. Secondly, his friends are awestruck by what he gets to have right now. Shamelessly watching, biting their words back, taking in deep breaths. And lastly, he can tell that everyone on camera right now either wants to be him or be fucked by him.

What’s not to love about this? 

And Heeseung is quick when he flashes his eyes away from each of his friends, straight to you in the camera, watching you avoid looking at the screen. He moves one hand from your chest, pushes his chair back, and immediately cups between your legs. 

“You show them this too, or was that just for me?”

You shake your head at Heeseung, reeling with embarrassment and arousal as you try to squeeze your legs closed around his hand. You feel choked up, throat sore, legs buckled, clit throbbing for him to dig his palm against it.

“Mm, you see that Jay?” Heeseung moves his eyes to his friend on screen. “Couldn’t even get her to show her pussy for you?” 

Jay appears entirely tuned into the situation, eyebrows sitting furrowed and focused on you. God, if only he focused that much in game, Heeseung thinks he could probably out rank him if he wanted to. 

“Jake?” Heeseung trails to his other friend, making sure each and every one of them hears and sees exactly what he’s doing. 

Your eyes follow the names Heeseung calls out. Shyly, somewhat dazed. Tearing your eyes from Jay was already hard enough as is. After all, seeing his blatant attraction to you right there, in front of everyone? Maybe you should have let him hit, even just once because damn. It’s almost pitiful, that look in his eye as he watches you. 

Jake on the other hand? You can tell he lets his hair fall partly in front of his eyes but he smiles to himself while watching. Something about seeing him like this makes you feel like you’ve just experienced extreme whiplash. It embarrasses you more knowing that you figured Jake was too inexperienced to know how to fuck a girl. He was too sweet. 

Too soft.

Too different from his friends.

As you look at him now though, you realize he isn’t different at all. In fact, he might have been more full of shit than any of the others as you stare at his wicked eyes and nod of approval at Heeseung. 

Hell, he’s even the one who mutters out a small, “Show us her tits.” 

The only reason Heeseung does as Jake asked is because he can’t help but relish in the look on their faces of seeing what they could have had, but now never will. To see them lose. To witness him win. 

They’re pathetic. Truly, when he drags your shirt up your belly and over your chest. Already braless, of course. And honestly, you’re shocked that they all react this way like you didn’t just send them tit pics but– 

This is more embarrassing somehow. Four pairs of eyes are on you and only one pair of hands. You want all of their hands. 

“I fucking knew you’d let me do this.” Heeseung chuckles against your ear, cupping his hands under your tits and presenting them to his friends. Bouncing them, rubbing them, pulling on both nipples before releasing them and letting your tits fall into their natural position. “Knew you were a slut the moment I saw the kind of panties you had hidden in that suitcase of yours.” 

You glance away from the camera now, knowing Heeseung is right with his words. 

“You should be fighting me, not dripping that pretty pussy all over me. Am I wrong?” 

You should be fighting. You shouldn’t be okay with this moment being broadcasted to three different people that you’ve been leading on. And yeah, you should hate him for all of the confusion and mental anguish he put you through. 

Yet, the arousal you have for him outweighs all of it. The arousal you have for this situation in general outweighs any shame you could feel, or the shame that comes after it. 

Being wanted like this by four men who you find incredibly attractive? 

“What more could a girl want?” You murmur in a hushed tone, rolling your hips just slightly on his lap, letting him feel the warmth of you seep into his sweatpants. His cock still hard and raging from your previous actions of choking on him.

Those words shock him as his eyes glance to the screen, noting how you’re writhing your body on him, totally shameless, totally fucking perfect with your tits out and on display, only pushing for more. It’s the fact that he fucking forgot he had his head set on for a moment and didn’t even catch that you whispered that shit straight into his mic. 

He only realized it when he saw three faces on screen drop to a slack jawed expression and Sunghoon immediately leaned forward with a groan of “spread her legs.” 

On any other day, for Heeseung, Jake, or Jay, seeing Sunghoon clearly push his pants down his thighs off camera would make them recoil and make fun of him. But they’re not right now, because the focus isn’t on any of the cocks being openly hard in this shared online space. 

The focus is on you, and the way Heeseung absolutely spreads your legs and pushes your knees up by the thighs so that the flat of your feet are resting on his knees. There, he drops his hands from your tits and reaches around you, rubbing the line of your shorts on the insides of your thighs just enough that glimpses of your panties flash every few seconds. 

From back here, the camera offers Heeseung the same view but it hits him differently because he’s the one doing it. He’s got his head resting on your shoulder as he watches, noting how you lean your head back against his own shoulder and breathe through his guided touches. 

“Look at yourself.” He turns his head to whisper right against your cheek. “You’d let us all take a turn, hm? Wouldn’t even know which dick is in you.”

Your eyes open in a roll, landing your gaze on the screen and feeling flushed at the image. You don’t care how embarrassing or pathetic you are for this. No, because, look at them. Everyone wants you to act like this. 

“Probably wouldn’t even care either, as long as you’re being fucked. Yeah, that’s right.” 

Nodding in a daze against him, you roll your hips harder, trying to bump his hand against your pussy, trying to prove to everyone that you have three holes and two hands for a reason. 

You don’t flinch when he slides his hands up the leg of your shorts either, pulling them to the side to reveal how wet you are to everyone. Listening to your body and the way it sings to him, brushing his knuckles against the swell of your clit, tapping the space where your hole sits and clenches to be seen. 

“Ah, fuck.” Jay finally lets out in a shaky breath, hand clearly still working himself because, well, he was half hard before you made an even appearance on camera. “It looks like she pissed herself–” 

Heeseung laughs as he drags his eyes to the image between your legs, so wet, entirely drenched through your nearly see-through panties at this point. Jay is right, it does look like you’ve pissed yourself, which only makes his cock throb more. That you’re so wet for him? So fucking drenched? God, he doesn’t even need lube with you.

You slick up so nice for him, it’s actually becoming painful not to test the stickiness, the slide it offers, the warmth. With this much pouring out of you, like you’ve already squirted, surely you could take all of him.

In an instant he pushes you from his lap, making you feel dizzy and light headed because suddenly you’re on your feet in front of him again. He gives you no time to balance yourself when he’s pulling your shirt up and off of you in a huffed out sigh, holding you in place by your tits to keep you from toppling over and breaking his monitor.  

And when you steady out, his hands run straight down, shoving your shorts and panties down in one go before immediately pulling you back to his lap, holding your arms behind you, and spreading his own legs to force yours open for his friends.

“Take a good, long, look.” Heeseung directs towards his friends, sliding his hand in front of you and using two fingers to present your hole to them. “If you think she’s pretty, let her know now.” 

It’s the way Heeseung moves his hand from behind you just to set his headset on your head now, quickly pinning your arms in place again and allowing you to listen to his friends do just that. 

Immediately, pussy spread and unintentionally clenching in the camera, one of your senses is enveloped with the sound of Jay’s palm shamelessly dragging up and down his hidden cock. Then, the sound of Jake and his deep inhales paired with slight cracked whines, just as shameless, doing much the same.

Then, Sunghoon.

Fucking Sunghoon. Barely moving, but more willing to talk to you with that headset on your head. 

“This why you didn’t come over?” He asks you blatantly in a breathy voice, glaring at the fingers of Heeseung holding your cunt open for him. “That could be me right now, but you’re really just going to fuck him? Of all people?”

You groan, lifting your head to give a proud nod and accidentally bumping Heeseung in the chin with the action. 

The bump forces him to bite his tongue, a metallic taste of the small amount of blood flooding his mouth mixed with saliva when he dips his head, grabbing you by the hair and forcing your mouth to his.

You can taste the blood too, when he presses his wet tongue past your lips without so much as swallowing the mixture first. Practically drooling and spitting into your mouth through the rough kiss. It feels like your drowning, kissing him back like you’ve always wanted to, tasting him in a new way now and moaning into it. 

Like a slut, really. Just fucking moaning. And he only forces more out of you too, as you feel him adjust his hands, holding you here on his lap, rough tongue bleeding against yours, sliding two fingers into you with one push. 

God, finally. Fucking, finally. 

Your mouth falls open in a sharp inhale of feeling his fingers, his lips turning to a smirk at hearing one of his friends audibly moan at the image on screen for them. You just showed how much of his saliva you were savoring, diluted red in the drool dripping down your chin through your moan.

You’re dirty, all four of them can see that much. But only Heeseung gets to feel it. 

His cock throbs at the image when he strains his eyes to the screen, plunging his fingers in, out, in, out, until he pulls them from you entirely, thrusting them into your open mouth instead. 

You squeal at the intrusion of his sudden fingers against your tongue, offering a third taste in your mouth. Yourself. 

“Mhm,” Heeseung encourages you. “Suck it up like you did for me the other day.”

You hear Jake gasp at the idea that you’ve already done this for Heeseung before, probably leading him to believe that Heeseung has also probably already fucked you.

And hell, with how it’s looking, none of them would be shocked if that were the case. 

“You’ve been doing this while talking to us?” Jake tries to confirm with you through a breathed sigh, groaning and unintentionally showing that he…wouldn’t mind. 

“God, I don’t even want to fuck you now.” Sunghoon on the other hand, isn’t so willing and lies, absolutely wanting to be the person fucking your lips with his fingers. “After Heeseung? Disgusting.” 

Oh, they think he’s fucked you already? 

You shoot your eyes open, trying to shake your head in a “no” at them but still suckling around his fingers. 

“Goddamn,” Heeseung grunts, rutting up against your back, letting his cock leave leaking little spots of his precum against your lower back. “Your sister would never act like this.” 

“You should be ashamed, but you love it.” He continues, talking, talking, talking. Shoving his fingers deeper, deeper, deeper. “Work that tongue like a good girl.” He continues to whisper from behind you before– 

You’re gagging. Feeling his fingers reach deep into your throat and press your tongue down to the point you’re forced to open your mouth wide. Exposing not only your finger-fucked pussy to his friends, but now your open and constricting throat. 

Sunghoon immediately regrets his insult at you, seeing how wide and open your throat can be. Gagging openly with very little sound as Heeseung compresses your tongue through it. 

You’re drooling again, eyes blinking up at the ceiling as if you could possibly find a way to drink away your tears. 

That’s about as much as Jay can take, gripping the base of his weeping length, willing it to stop threatening him with an orgasm before Heeseung really gets you looking pretty. He chokes up through the mic, and the sound runs straight through your body.

There, he watches you moan through an open and dry mouth, throat muscles tensing just to get the sound out. He grips harder, needing to pull his eyes away but struggling so hard to fucking do. 

“Shit, baby. Stop.” Jay calls through the microphone, forcing his friends eyes on him, yours included, as all of you watch him vibrate in his seat in an attempt not to cum. “Stop moaning.”

Heeseung hears him say it, and intentionally gags you again instead. Bumping his fingers at the back of your throat with a smile on his face. Glancing between all of his friends, seeing how pathetic they are for what he does to you. 

The fact that they’re sticking around at all? Both great and fucking embarrassing. Even more embarrassing than you. 

Then Heeseung focuses back on you, tears running down your pretty cheeks, mouth agape, throat struggling to adjust still to his fingers despite taking his cock like that’s the only shape or size it wanted. 

Ah, your body is so pathetically telling, and he grants you the release of another gag by sliding his fingers out of your mouth and straight back to your warm, pulsing, hole.

Right back in, one hole filled at all times it seems, as he feeds into the whiplash he’s able to give you. You didn’t even notice how he shoves you off of his lap until you can no longer see the screen in front of you and are face to face with his keyboard. No frustrated face of Jay, no forced calm and collected expression from Sunghoon, no blatantly bitten lips of Jake. 

No, only the feeling of Heeseung chasing your hole with his fingers, your hips running from the touch due to sensitivity and buckled knees. He holds you there against his desk, standing behind you and pressing his cock between your ass cheeks. Fingers roughly rubbing your clit, sliding down to fuck into you, then out again to rub you harder.

His friends watch you try to run your lower half away from him, but his eyes stay glued to the camera, as if he’s staring into the soul of his friends. 

“You guys wanna see me fuck her?” He comments in a sly tone, cock grinding against you. “I can fuck her.” 

“Ah, Hee–” You groan as a response, listening to the slapping of palms against cocks only grow more furious and finally relaxing your body to now search for his fingers, just to push yourself back on them. “Please.”

He snickers from behind you, grabbing a hand full of hair at the back of your head as he rips his fingers from your needy hole, wiping them along your cheek as he forces you to look at him. 

“Again.” He demands, now pinching your cheeks with one hand, arching your back more by the pull of your hair. “Say, “Please, Seungie, fuck me.” He whispers into your mouth, loud enough for the mic to pick up the way you swallow around his words. 

“Say, “Please, Hee, give it to me.” He continues, making his voice higher pitched as if to mock your moans.

Sunghoon watches and listens in shock, never once wanting to know that this is how his own friend fucks someone, but goddamn. It’s like he’s just found the video on page 86 of pornhub that hit just right as he watches. Fucking up and into his fist like his life depends on it, waiting, waiting, waiting, for you to moan out just like Heeseung is telling you to. 

And it’s the fact that you fucking do, Heeseung watching the way Jake presses his entire body into his chair, staring down at himself with a fast moving palm, so fast that he can see his friend lose himself to the pleasure.

Jay, near tears in his eyes as he watches, probably moaning in your ear like a mad man right now. 

You fucking say it.

You say both, moaning in a choked gasp when you feel him stick his tip in you at it. 

“Please–” You hiccup as you try to repeat the words again and again for him. “God, yes.” You rasp out in a deeper tone at the feeling of him slide in. 

And he keeps sliding in, trying to keep himself from rolling his eyes back when he bottoms out and feels your cunt clench him as if you’ll never let it go.

And then, one quick thrust, holding your hair in his hands, arching you harder, his other hand reaching for yours and holding them behind your back, he fucks forward. 

Your tits bounce with the movement, neck strained to keep your eye on his face as you try to adjust to the full size of him entering you.

“She just takes it.” Heeseung grunts with a choked breath. “Shit, so goddamn tight.” He murmers again, nearly unable to stand on his own two feet how tight you are.

He forces you to look at him through it, squeezing your hands together so tightly through it that you can barely focus on the pain of your positioned body against the feeling of his cock splitting you open with each hard thrust. 

And then, you let out the most filthy, wet, pornographic cry. 

Heeseung then brings his attention to his monitor one last time, watching the pathetic mess of people in front of him getting off entirely on his cock driving into you. 

“I win.” He says with one pointed thrust, keeping his hips pressed against your ass and only pressing in harder, trying to reach another inch in, trying to break past whatever wall inside of you keeps him from impaling you entirely on him. 

All three friends burst into a feeling of realization, Jake already mid orgasm at the sound of that moan you just cried out– 

Then theres….nothin but the feeling of Heeseung releasing your hands and allowing you to grip his desk through this deep hold of his length inside of you. 

Suddenly, no sound through the headset, the light of the monitor in your peripheral vision goes off, and Heeseung is breaking his demeanor just to moan out in full again. 

“Drove them crazy,” He chuckles through a wet groan, now snapping his hips back and leaning forward just to push back into you, deeper, deeper, until his desk ruts against the wall with the tight hold on you. “Driving me fucking crazy.” He whispers, holding his open lips right against your neck when he hunches over in this paused thrust. 

“You looked so good.” He says again, suddenly praising you, suddenly able to relish in the pleasure he’s giving you rather than pretending it does nothing for him. 

You blink away tears, feeling your twisted and turned body, still trying to look at him through this even if he’s released your hands. 

He can see that look of realization on your face and smiles at that too before shooting his hands to your middle and forcing you back and against him. 

He keeps his dick in you, too obsessed with the drag your walls offer to him, and holds you against him just to shift to the side and press you back on the misplaced couch in the room. Man cave stuff, and alla that. 

You watch him guide you face first into the cushions before he is grabbing your hands again, holding them right back in pace behind your back with one hand, and the other pushing your face even further into the pillows. 

“You have no fucking idea, do you?” He grunts, slamming into you again, eyes glued to the way your body strains to accommodate the position he wants you in. “How much better you are?”

Oh. Really now? 

You smile through suffocated breaths, the fabric of the couch invading the taste of your own breath and forcing you to love it just as much. You bite down, listening to his spilling words. 

“Begging me like that for my friends to hear, like you didn’t know I wanted to do this?” He continues, burying himself deep again and holding it there again. “Fucking my pillow instead of me.” 

He seems a little more angry now. 

“Turning my friends on when you wanted me,” He grabs your hair again, pulling you back into that same painful arch and forcing you to stare up at the wall. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart, I would’ve given it to you every time.” 

The reality that this is not your boyfriend is so far from you right now. The fact that your sister is working away right now to pay the light bill, gonna come home later and share a bed with this man? You’re not even jealous. 

In fact? You’re on top of the world listening to him want you more. 

And at this point, Heeseung can tell you’re smiling, looking blankly at the wall and totally lost from this world. This is exactly what he wanted. 

Such a pretty little sister, winning him over the bitch that won’t even choke on his cock? It could have been so much easier for you. But this was fun for him, watching you want him and know you couldn’t have him.

Despite him proving that you could have had him any day of the week.

“All you had to do was ask.” He repeats into your ear, now slowing his pace until he pulls out. 

He takes a step back, gazing at the way your open pussy still clenches for him, the way your ass shakes slightly with your legs. 

“Aww,” He coos, blinking at you from behind and reaching forward to flip you over. “You wanted it so bad too, can’t believe you waited.” 

You see him now, fully in person rather than through the image on his monitor. His skin looks so much more full of life, cheeks tinted and hair more fucked up than you’ve ever seen it. Cock huge, weighed against his leg. 

You’re shocked you took all of it like that previously, unable to relish in the pain of it because your senses were overloaded with moans and his own boasting. 

“Your sister doesn’t have to know.” He says now, eyes trailing your body. 

“Ah–” You wince when he licks his fingers and lowers his hand to your clit, one hand spreading your legs out now that he’s got you on your back. “I really didn’t know.”

Heeseung chuckles, finding you entirely too cute and endearing as you look up at him with those fucked out lips trying not to quiver at your sensitivity. 

“You were too dumb to take a hint.” He leans forward, now, using his hand to lift your leg up to your chest, rubbing his cock right against your hole as he pulls his other hand up now, propping up your other leg. “Too stubborn to realize.” 

You nod in a slightly broken way, unsure of if you were the one putting yourself through torture, or if you really were too dumb to notice he was trying to get you to go insane for him. 

He wanted you to jump on him. He wanted you to take it like this. 

“And you won’t tell her?” You whisper now, losing the ability to think much more when he grinds himself down, keeping eye contact with you, that same smirk you both hated and loved. 

He shakes his head at you, almost sweetly when he adjusts his cock to slide in again, knocking the breath out of you with a choked moan. 

“She won’t find out if you can be quiet when she’s home.”

Oh fucking no. He wants to…continue this? This isn’t a one time thing? He’s going to try while she’s home? While she’s gone?  Arguably, you’re fucking glad.

“When she’s–?” You try to question, stopping short when he bottoms out in a groan, breathing in through his nose before lending you a tight, short thrust. 

“Mm, yeah, I’m gonna be in you every day.” He moans, thinking about the image alone of sneaking into your room while his girlfriend is fast asleep.

Fucking you in his bed. In your bed. On the shared couch. Everywhere. Everyday. 

“God, she’d hate us both.” He chuckles through the same moans he can’t stop from spilling out of his throat. “Finding out I’m so deep, so raw like this.”

Fuck. Right.

“Wait–” You come to realization, clenching from panic at the fact that a condom didn’t even come to mind. “Fuck, Hee, wait!” 

He only presses harder now, smiling at how you’ve finally managed to come to your senses. Fucking you faster when you try to wiggle your hips away. Fucking you harder, pressing his entire body weight against the back of your thighs just to force you to stay in one place. Pussy open and spread out, clenching his cock so nicely. 

“Gonna fuck you full,” He kisses your forehead with the horrifying words. “You’ll do it for me right? She won’t let me.”

Those words ring in your head. If she won’t let him, you sure as fuck will. You can deal with the consequences later. You no longer fight to pretend he’s not ramming your g-spot, forcing your voice to shake through a cry of his name. 

“I’m not–” You choke out through cries, feeling your body tense up. “I’m not on birth co-”

“Fuckkkk, yes.” He rolls his eyes back at your half spoken words, losing it at the thought of dripping his seed into you and knowing he’s sterile enough to scare you both for good. “Take it,” He thumps his cock as far into you as he can, willing you to nod your head, willing you to love this as much as he does. 

It’s the fact that you’re not trying to wiggle away now, he can feel your hole pulse at hit words, the way you want to be better than your sister, the way you’d truly let him. 

Even more the fact that you’re not the one he should be shooting his seed into. It should be your sister, the woman who wants to marry him, the woman who said she simply wasn’t ready to bear his child.  Not that you want to either, but goddamn do you want to be fucked full of the possibly, you say it yourself in a harsh grip around his neck, tugging at the long strands of hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Do it.” You whisper through hiccuped moans, his thrusts scooting you up and down on the couch at the sheer force of them. 

“Yeah,” He nods his head, pressing harder against your legs as he chases the very high you’re asking him to give to you. “You want it?” He encourages you to keep telling him. He needs you to tell him. 

You nod frantically, feeling your body tense up again, trying to reach your hands between your legs to rub your swollen clit. Shockingly, that simply touch of your fingers sends you straight over edge, cumming so hard around his deep thrusts that you can barely hear him praise you through it with drawn out groans of “Ah, you’re squeezing me–” and “Just like that, I’m–”

His voice is clear though, when his hips stutter in place and he’s holding himself still. You can feel the pulse of him releasing into you through the last moments of your orgasm. 

“Take it.” He moans. “Take all of it.” He continues, pulling out half way so that his cum drenches every part of your hole. 

There, he uses his hand to milk the rest of it out of him, eyes squeezed shut as he feels the sensation of your own orgasm only slick up the inside of you more than he is, and then– he rams back in. Pushing his cum deep. So deep that you moan at the feeling, knowing the mess is dripping down your ass, and being shoved so far against your cervix that– Well. You panic. 

Arguably, Heeseung should panic too, but he doesn't as he heaves in a deep and relieved sigh, sliding out of you once and for all. 

He just looks at you, a mess on the office couch, pussy pumped full of him, swollen, still pulsing. 

“Can I be honest?” He breathes out after running his hands through his sweaty hair, dropping them down with a slap to your now relaxed legs.

At your silence, he continues anyway. “You’ve never looked prettier than right now.” 

And, well. You realize that with those words alone, selfish and self absorbed as you relish in them, you decide you don’t care that he’s just fucked you raw without a care in the world that he just cheated on the supposed love of his life. You both have won in this situation, and pregnancy isn’t such a scare anyway when he walks away a mere minute later and comes back with a fucking Plan-B pill. 

You’re confused by it at first, popping it into your mouth and looking at him with raised brows. 

“Why do you just have these?” You ask, still catching your breath. 

“She takes one every time we have sex, even with a condom.” He rolls his eyes.  You smirk, noting how if there’s anything you do better than your sister…It’s fucking her boyfriend.

[bimbobaggins69]

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⟡𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your roommates come home from their date to find you in a bit of a compromising position…but what really sets them off is the jeweled plug you’re wearing.

⟡𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, steddie established relationship, no use of y/n, just a shit load of nicknames, talks of unrequited love (but it’s not), anal plug, kinda mean!eddie and mean!steve, fingering, unprotected anal sex, unprotected p in v sex, dirty talk, free use sex, the boys using your holes, dp, squirting, cream pie, no plot just porn.

⟡𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I really don’t know where this came from, but I don’t ask questions about the things that inspire me… I took way too much time on this so pls TAKE IT! Also thank you to my babes @xxhellfirebunnyxx & @reidsbtch for beta reading <33

⟡𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.3k

You’re exhausted, you’ve spent the last couple hours stress cleaning your shared apartment while your roommates are on a date. Why were you stressed you ask?

Well, the most problematic reason; the one that made it borderline impossible to focus on anything else was you were just plain fucking horny. You tried your vibrator in between cleaning the bathroom and the kitchen, then right after with the same disappointing results before finally giving up and tidying your bedroom… that was until you came across something you hadn’t seen since you moved into this apartment six months ago—

Your baby blue silicone butt plug, with the pretty heart jewel at the bottom of the base; so naturally in your absolute horny fog, you figure it wouldn’t hurt to put it on and wear it around while you finish cleaning and then hopefully when you’re done, you’ll be more worked up and can finally, finally finish with your vibrator. 

Your roommates said they’d be out pretty much all night, which you figured meant they’d go out to some bar or club and then fuck and nap in the back of Eddie’s van before making their way back home…and if you’re on the topic of complete honesty, they were the main reason for this little dry spell you were having—

Imagine living with the two hottest and sweetest men you’d ever met, but they’re together and have absolutely no room for you no matter how bad you yearn for them. Why would they want you? They have each other and they’re so happy and in love, it makes your insides hurt. Of course you want nothing more then for them to be happy, they both deserve it more than anyone but how do you go on watching the two holders of your heart be happy while you have absolutely nothing to do with it? 

It’s fucking pathetic and you need to get your shit together. 

So to say the least, yes you have been completely and utterly sexually frustrated. I mean hearing them fuck almost every night does nothing to help these  feelings and you haven’t made any efforts to move on, meet new people and possibly start dating. You can’t help but to reprimand yourself when the thought of holding out hope flashes through your mind. There was no hope left, you will never have Eddie and Steve as anything other than friends. And just because they’re bi and are also into women too, doesn't mean you have a shot, no matter how much you wish it did. It’s time to move on. 

Once the blue plug is nestled deep inside of you with the help of copious amounts of lube and deep breathes, you get back to your stress cleaning just to get your mind off of all of your conflicting thoughts but decide to forgo your cotton shorts and panties in the process, keeping the oversized slayer shirt that Eddie had let you borrow, on.

Your last task of the day was to do laundry, you’d do a few loads before getting into bed with your vibrating friend, to finally get off like you’ve been trying to all evening. 

But when you went to get your clothes out of the wash to put into the dryer, a sock that had been way out of reach had you hopping head first into the machine, and before you knew it a piece of your hair was caught in the agitator. Of course, just your luck! 

No matter what you did or how much you pulled, the chunk was lodged in there and was not letting go anytime soon. You wanted to cry, absolutely break down and sob. What were you supposed to do now? Wait for the boys to come home and fish you out as your whole ass is on display? Not to mention the plug you have lodged up there. No no no, you would die from humiliation. So you didn’t give up, you pulled and pulled until eventually your arms and head got tired and you just kinda dangled there, then after a good five minutes you tried again but in your haste and heavy breathing, you didn’t hear the front door open or your name being called. Everything was muffled considering your head was stuck in a damn dryer! 

“What the-” you finally hear from the doorway, making your eyes widen in horror. 

“Do you um- do you need some help, sweetheart?” You can already hear the smug smirk on Eddie’s face without even looking. 

“That would appear so.” You sarcastically quip with a roll of your eyes. 

“Well fuck, I don’t know princess. This is quite the view.” He snickers, and you can feel the way his thigh roughly rubs against your calf. 

“Munson, this is no time for your fucking jokes.” You spit through clenched teeth. “Please. Help. Me.” 

“Babe?!” You hear Eddie call, only assuming he’s calling Steve over to witness the scene or maybe to help him get you out. As humiliated as you are you just want to be free and if Steve has to see you like this in the process, then so be it. 

“Whoa!” Steve says as he enters the laundry room, a low whistle falls from his lips and you don’t know if it’s from the view or the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in. 

“She’s stuck.” Eddie tells his boyfriend and you can still hear the remnants of a smile on his face. 

“Please guys, please get me out of here.” You beg as your lower lip begins to jutt out in a pout. 

“I don’t know Stevie, what do you think? You think we should help her out?” The metalhead chuckles to himself, completely elated with what was happening. 

“Ya’ know, I don’t think we should help her out just yet. She looks so pretty like this.” The former jock confesses, and now you can feel his thigh rub on your other calf. You try your damndest not to clench your holes because it might be obvious with the whole plug in your ass. 

“Guys c'mon, this is so embarrassing. Please?” You whine, but you can’t help but feel yourself start to drip at their taunting.

“Fuck, you have such a pretty ass, baby. I would’ve never guessed that you liked getting it stuffed.” Eddie groans and you have no idea what’s happening, but you’re not mad either. 

“She does, doesn’t she? Can we touch you pretty girl? Promise after we’ll get you out of there.” Steve asks before rubbing what you could only assume was his hard cock against your leg. 

“Yes, please.” You whimper as tears fill your eyes, all you’ve wanted for six long months was to be touched by them. 

You feel a hand press against the plug, pushing it deeper inside of you before your ass is being slapped, a slight sting left in its place. Two fingers glide through your drenched folds, a loud groan being released from one of the boys’ chest. 

“You’re so fucking wet, princess.” Eddie's low timbre has you fighting with yourself to not clench your thighs as Steve’s soft hand inches higher, long fingers gliding up closer towards the plug. 

“Jesus Christ. Wanna take this out and see how you gape for us, pretty girl. Can I?” Steve asks, voice low and deep, creating light shivers to course through your body. 

“Yeah, mhm you can.” You huff out as the washing machine digs into your stomach, not enough to hurt but your breathing is slightly constricted. 

“So fucking desperate for this, arent you baby? Just a little butt slut for us? God, the things I’ve been wanting to do to this ass.” Eddie growls supplying your supple skin with another harsh slap. 

“We can’t hear you little slut!” Steve scolded, grabbing the plug at the base before slowly pulling it out.

“Yes! I’m a desperate little slut! Please!” You gasp as you begin to clench around the plug as it’s being removed from your tight rim. 

“That’s a good girl.” Eddie teases, as he and Steve laugh at your strangled whines.

Once the plug is removed, you hear a slick sound before a pop; the wet tip of a finger rubbing in circles around your sensitive, reddened hole.

A small gape is left in the blue plugs wake along with the lube that now begins to bubble and leak out, the finger continues its soothing circles before its prodding, the tip sinking in without hesitation making you whine louder.

“Oh she’s ready! This little hole is just sucking me in. She Wants to be filled so badly.” You now realize the finger belongs to Eddie as it sinks in even deeper, moans fall from your parted mouth as you writhe in desperation. 

Steve’s fingers begin to prod at your core, completely saturated and dripping down your thighs, they roll over your clit before his fingers begin to slowly enter your pussy. You’re now full as both sets of fingers fuck into you, Steve’s digits curling down hitting that spot a couple inches from your entrance. The position you’re in made it awkward but when his expert fingers found that bundle of nerves hidden in your walls, your holes clenched around both boys and your legs tightened and shook as they dangled, hitting the cold metal of the white washing machine. 

“You gonna cum already?” Steve mocked meanly making Eddie snort out a laugh. Their teasing was pushing you even closer towards the edge and you couldn’t understand why, you’d never been one for mocked comments at the hands of other men you’ve slept with, but coming from Eddie and Steve it made your core blaze hot and your head become spacey, absolutely empty as the pleasure continued to grow. 

“Well cum for us then, baby.” Eddie grits with a hard thrust of his fingers. 

Your moans grow louder, echoed from the metal walls. Your legs shake harder from the force of you keeping them spread, it’s a heavy feat cumming without snapping them shut like you’d usually do when you were alone, before this little dry spell of yours, that is. 

“Such a good little set of holes.” Steve says, a cocky edge to his voice as he removes his fingers along with Eddie. 

You hear the smacking of lips, wishing you could watch them kiss but before you know it you feel hands on you again. 

“I need to get my cock in one of her holes.” Eddie groans as the jingle of a belt buckle being removed hits your ears and before you know it hot, sticky yet incredibly soft skin is being slapped, right over your stretched out hole. 

“Mmm, you ready, pretty baby?” The metalhead asks, thrusting his cock between your cheeks. 

“Please, Eddie!” You cry out with an impatient lilt to your voice, begging him to take you out of your horny misery. 

His tip catches against your rim, sliding in nice and slow as he begins stretching you out far more than the plug and you can’t help but to tighten around him at the unfamiliar girth. 

“Oh my god!” You mewl as he sinks deeper, inch by inch you’re being filled, his length feels like it goes on forever until finally he’s fully seated within you.

Once he’s sure you’ve adjusted to his size, he begins thrusting his hips at an unrelenting pace, causing your toes to curl and your eyes to water, it was so good, it was everything you’ve been wanting. 

Steve leans over the machine, a chuckle erupts from deep in his chest, as he listens to you moan and babble about how good Eddie feels stretching you out. 

“Feels so good doesn't it, baby? Love when Ed’s fucks me too.” He confesses as his hand begins to trail down your back, all the way to where you’re stretched by Eddie, his fingers rubbing over your filled hole and up Eddie’s shaft making you both moan louder. 

“Alright Ed, my turn.” Steve huffs impatiently as his cock begins to grow borderline painful beneath his jeans. 

Eddie begrudgingly pulls out, smearing the lube around his cock and stroking it as he moves out of the way for Steve to have his turn with you. 

“Can I fuck your little pussy, honey?” The pretty boy asks as he grabs your legs, putting his hands under each thigh and raising your lower half higher so your pussy meets his cock at the perfect angle. 

“You can fuck whatever hole you want.” You sob, desperate to feel that fullness again.  

“God, you’re such a fucking slut, just wanna be our little fuck toy, huh filthy girl?” Steve spits before pushing his tip into your dripping cunt, both of you cry out at the sheer pleasure you’re bringing to each other. Steve’s cock sinks deeper and you find yourself grateful he didn’t fuck you in the ass, his cock felt like it was splitting you in half, the most delicious stretch, but you couldn’t say it’d be as delicious had it been your other hole. 

“Steve!” You whimper as your hands wrap around the big hunk of plastic your hair is caught in, trying your best to keep from being pushed further away with Steve’s unforgiving thrusts. The action causes you to almost bump your head on the back wall of the machine, and everytime he pushes you further away a pain shoots through your head as the agitator yanks it back with a strong grip on your strands. It almost feels like Steve has a chunk of your hair, held tight in his hand and now that’s all you can picture, causing you to gush around his cock— the pleasure and pain creating such a ripple effect of mini squirting orgasms that quite literally snuck up on you. Your body shakes as you moan, so sweet and feminine it’s just what Steve loves about fucking women and he has to suddenly pull out of you or run the risk of cumming too early.  

“Did she- holy shit.” Eddie says as he takes one look at Steve's drenched and painfully purple cock. God, he wants to fall to his knees and lick every drop you gave him off, but he can tell Steve is already struggling, he knows that flush faced look, that’s his boy’s cum face. He’s decided he’ll reward him later for his willpower, maybe if they're lucky you’ll both reward Steve.

“Can’t believe she's a squirter, barely even touched her.” Steve scoffs; it’s so far from the truth, but the way he’s talking about you is so filthy and hot that you can’t help but to snap your legs shut and tighten. 

“Uh uh, princess. Open back up for me.” Eddie tuts, while he brings his hands down to grasp at the meat of your thighs pushing them open enough for him to stand between, silver rings digging into your heated skin as he kneads at your flesh.

“How about we get you outta there now, sweetheart? How’s that sound?” The metalhead asks, growing tired of the awkward position, he wanted you where he knew you always belonged, right in between them. 

“Yes, please.” You sigh with relief, as much as you were enjoying this your blood was starting to rush to your head, making you a little light headed.

Steve reaches in first, roughly pulling as he tries to release you from the agitators tight grip. 

“Here let me see.” Eddie says after a few minutes as he grows impatient, just wanting to get his cock back inside you. 

Even after Eddie tries and tries, you finally speak up with a whine of disappointment. 

“There’s scissors in the kitchen drawer, you're just gonna have to cut it.” You huff before your body slips back into a defeated slouch. 

“Are you sure princess?” Eddie asks, you can hear the sympathy in his voice as his head hovers over the washers opening, “well, I don’t think I have many options and I just really need you both to fuck me, so…” you hiss back in one more attempt to yank your hair free, with no luck. 

“Alright I’ll be back in a sec.” Steve says as he jogs out of the laundry room, towards the kitchen. You and Eddie can hear drawers slamming as he looks for the scissors, the metalhead can’t help but to snort at his boyfriends obvious hunger to be back inside of you, he knows cause he feels it too and it’s something they’ve both yearned for, for more than just the six months you’d been living with them. 

It happened when you were just Robin's close friend from work that they would see every other weekend when you’d all go out together; they’d agreed how beautiful, sexy and intoxicating you were, so sweet and bubbly and lively, they had non stop talked about asking if you’d maybe wanna hang out with them and see where things could go, but they didn’t wanna scare you; being in a relationship with two men who are already in a relationship can be a lot for someone, especially if that someone is used to strictly monogamous entanglements. 

Then Robin came to them about you needing a place to stay and when you became their roommate they didn’t want you to feel cornered or like they only let you stay cause they like you, even though as time passed their feelings had grown even stronger, so yeah they couldn’t allow this opportunity to slip through their fingers. 

“Got 'em!” Steve says with excitement as he rushes over to you, “okay, I’m gonna cut closest to the machine so I don’t take too much, just take a deep breath for me, baby.” Steve says, honey dripping from his sweet voice as he talks you through it. 

“Good job, sweet girl. Okay, here I go. You’re doing so good, baby. One more snip and you’re free.” The smooth rasp in his voice makes your heart hammer, feeling it in your ears as you stay as still as possible while he cuts. Once it’s done you’re yanked up from the washing machine, Eddie hands you to Steve and you wrap your legs around his hips as he grabs the plush meat of your exposed ass. 

“Are you okay, baby?” He whispers into your ear as he continues to grab and rub at your soft globes. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You murmur back as you place a gentle kiss to his neck, just under his ear. 

“Do you wanna stop and grab a glass of water or get something to eat, princess?” Eddie asks into the side of your neck as he stands behind you. You can feel his hard cock as it rubs against your ass and Steve’s hand. 

“No, what I need is for you both to fuck me, like right now…at the same time.” You whine as you begin to move your hips over the boys' laps, your ass and bare pussy moving back and forth over their obvious hard ons, you almost feel like a cat in heat, purring and moaning as they both kiss on either side of your neck. 

“Okay, fuck, I can’t wait anymore.” Eddie growls as he removes his dripping cock from his jeans, before spitting on his engorged, red tip and smearing it around with his tattooed hand. You jerk slightly when you feel his wet fingers prodding at your puckered hole, spreading the wetness in preparation to take him again. 

“You ready, princess?” He asks as he rubs his tip against his target, the squelch from how wet he’s made your asshole makes your face burn hot. You can’t take much more of his teasing. 

“I’m ready, I’m ready please.” You beg, it comes out breathless as if you’d just gotten the wind knocked out of you. Your desperation so clearly evident to them, that it causes both of their cocks to pulse with need. 

“Okay, we’ve got you baby, gonna make you feel so good.” Steve whispers into the side of your face before leaving a gentle kiss on your jawline that lingers with a tingle when he pulls away.

“Ed’s, hold her legs for me really quick.” Steve mutters before he begins removing himself from the confines of his blue jeans. He gives his aching member a few quick tugs before he’s roughly grabbing you back from Eddie. This time his forearms slide under the backs of your knees, your ass slips down angled perfectly between their needy cocks. Steve’s hold on you tightens as his hands inch behind your back, the perfect position to fuck you on both of their cocks, passing you back and forth like some kinda fucked up game of hot potato. 

Eddie begins to push in first, breaching the snug walls of your previously stretched out hole, how was it so tight again? The metalhead groans once he’s fully seated within your gripping confines, Steve takes it as a signal to begin his work of re stretching your cunt back out to perfectly mold to his size, the perfect little cock sleeve. 

They begin thrusting simultaneously, causing the filthiest “uh!” to slip past your lips as your left hand shoots out to clutch onto Steve's brown locks while the right finds itself gripping the nape of Eddie’s neck. Three sets of glossy lust filled eyes find each other as your opened mouths breathe in each other's moans of ecstasy. 

Eddie’s hands glide down to the globes of your ass, two of his flat palms pull the plump meat of your cheeks apart as his cock drives deeper into your second hole. Tears spring to your eyes as the boys use you for their own pleasure, it’s everything you’ve wanted for so long, you want to live in this moment forever between them as they give you their all. 

The grunts and groans that hit the right side of your neck and the back of your left shoulder have you clenching both holes so hard you can already feel the beginnings of orgasmic bliss on the horizon, the heat in your lower stomach stirs and your legs work so hard not to snap shut as they’re still held wide open by Steve’s forearms; now shaking profusely. 

“Please, please oh my god, I’m gonna— please!” Is all you can reverberate, as the filthy whines and pleads fill the cramped laundry room.

“You gonna cum for us, kitten?” Eddie mumbles into the back of your hair before planting an approving kiss there, as if to say ‘go ahead, you have my permission.’ 

“Yes, yes, yes!” You chant as you clamp down even tighter on them, like a fucking vice grip making them whimper and whine as they both fuck you through it.

“Go ahead kitten, soak our cocks— get us all messy with your sweet girl jizz.” Steve couldn’t help but giggle at his boyfriend's ridiculous words, but he wouldn’t deny sweet girl jizz made his cock twitch in anticipation. 

Eddie and Steve’s thrusts get even more ravenous as wet squelches, skin slapping and your feminine moans echo off of every wall in the apartment. 

“You’re fucking her so good baby. Hear those pretty little noises she’s making for us?” Steve says before bringing his hands to his boyfriends hips and pulling him in even deeper, causing their cocks to rub together through you. 

Your high hit you so hard, your moans and cries were silent as your body jerked, your eyes rolled back and your toes curled; a stream of wetness squirted out and hit Steve’s lower stomach with a splash as the rest covered Steve’s sneakers and Eddie’s boots, both boys groaned as they fucked you hard through your second orgasm.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it baby!” 

“That’s a good girl!” 

Both boys praise you, holding you tighter between them as your body goes lax from such an intense come.

“You okay, sweet girl?” Steve’s nose brushes against yours as his honey eyes study your face with the utmost concern. 

“I’m so good.” You say back with a lazy smirk. 

Their thrusts continue up when they realize you’re okay, now their only thought was hitting their peak; which was closer now after watching you come all over their laps. 

“I’m gonna come, wanna fill you up, please princess?” Eddie whispers in your ear sending a deep pleasurable shiver down your spine.  

“Mhm, want you both to fill my holes.” 

They both lose it at your words, low grunts leaving their lips as their warm come fills you from both angles.

“Oh fuck! That was—” Eddie started, before Steve finished for him with a breathy and fucked out “Wow!” 

They both kiss and hold you before letting your feet hit the cold tiles. Steve grabs a towel and cleans you up with a shy smile on his face, that you couldn’t help but find incredibly cute. 

“How about we finish cleaning up and you go lay down in our bed? We can all cuddle and fall asleep. How’s that sound, kitten?” Eddie suggests.

“That sounds nice.” You say through a yawn. 

Leaving both boys to clean the evidence of what just happened; the scissors and your hair, the wet puddle on the floor and the loose pieces of clothing scattered around. 

Once you were gone Eddie broke the silence—

“Do you think we should ask her tonight or in the morning?” 

“Let her get some sleep and then we can tell her how we feel tomorrow, and she can decide whether she wants to be with us or not.” Steve says as he wipes up your wetness.

“Do you think she’ll want us?” Eddie asks his boyfriend as his brown eyes fill with worry.

“I have a good feeling she does.” 

[convito]

Blasting Off To The Past: Chapter 1: The Customers Are Used To This By Now

Finished chapter 1 of my fanfic based on @yamujiburo's Jessie/Delia Pokemon comics. The fact that it's just the first chapter is a development that materialized roughly 5 minutes ago when I realized this thing is getting way too long to write all at once. It's just a fun little day-in-the-life story because I wanted an excuse to write these characters.

Here's the AO3 link.

Below is the full chapter text. Enjoy!

“Meowth, I demand to know why you just kicked me!” James yelled dramatically.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I wouldn’t waste my time kicking you!” Meowth

The lunch rush took its toll on everyone in different ways. For Delia, the strain kept her too busy to notice anything outside the restaurant. For Jessie, it meant Delia wasn’t looking at her.

In the case of James and Meowth, it was dealer’s choice. Today, that meant each blaming the other for the table leg they each routinely tripped over. Meowth’s thimble-sized temper had reached a boiling point. James was mad by association.

Delia had been holding down the kitchen until the commotion piqued her attention, prompting a peek around the corner into the dining area. She saw Meowth seething as his serving tray clattered to the ground, trading leers with James whose serving tray remained pristinely perched atop his fingers.

Then time stood still as she saw Jessie burst in with a face that gave her conflicting feelings, making a Beedrill-line for the bickering duo. How she heard the noise from across town would remain a mystery. The love of Delia’s life was a lit fuse heading straight for a flamboyantly colored powder keg. The focus now needed to be heading off the stormfront before it turned the restaurant into a restauNOT (she took a second to chuckle at that).

“Jessie. Babe. Sweetie.”

The red menace continued undeterred. Delia raised her voice.

“Jessie, stop! Jessie! Honey!”

Still nothing. Delia was desperate.

“STOP, DAMMIT!”

Jessie screeched to a halt, bringing the universe with her. She and her two partners in something or other all turned their heads toward Delia, three identical faces of exaggerated shock. Though Jessie’s sported a tinge of crimson.

“I… buh…” she attempted.

“Delia made a swear,” Meowth whispered.

James simply covered his ears.

But whether through shock or sheer force of Delia’s long-bided power, the situation was defused for now. The residual fallout kept things together until the restaurant finally slowed down. James and Meowth lost their abrasion around each other, more or less back to their regular selves give or take the occasional shared look towards Delia. Granted, not unlike their usual behavior.

Jessie, meanwhile, had stuck around to help however she could. At the moment, she was employing her puppy dog eye technique to try and soften Delia’s mood every time her wife looked her way. Despite coming across more like bewildered Magikarp eyes, which had Delia desperately suppressing a snort laugh at every turn, it probably would have worked even if she actually had been angry.

Eventually, closing time arrived. Jessie had finally released Delia from her fishy look and was taking a break from cleaning to watch James and Meowth. The other two former Rockets were Taurosing around with each other as they took the garbage out back. Delia noticed a wistful look in her wife’s eye. It was one she’d been seeing a lot of lately.

“You miss the adventure, don’t you?” Delia asked warmly.

Jessie gave a slight start at this before nodding. They’d grown to know each other well enough that it was no surprise Delia could read her so intimately.

“I know we weren’t the good guys going after the twe- eh, Ash and Pikachu like that,” Jessie seemed just a bit embarrassed, “but getting out there and traveling around really got my juices moving.”

“Even more than our little battling vacations?”

“W-well, I wouldn’t say…” Jessie hesitated, but she knew she never needed to hide anything from Delia, especially after all this time. “Kinda, yeah.”

Jessie’s regular trips out into the region with Delia to explore and battle gym leaders had very quickly begun to rank among the highlights of her life, and she wouldn’t trade them for anything, no matter how shiny. But…

“I just miss the camaraderie with James and Meowth,” she found herself gushing. “I miss the cartoon-level plans we came up with together, I miss the big Meowth balloon, I miss James’ camp cooking and Meowth’s snoring, not to mention-”

“I’m sorry, what was that about Meowth?”

“Oh, right, you never heard his outdoor snoring. Only happens when he’s camping. Real conker of a wavelength he could belch out, which you wouldn’t expect from a little fart like him. I think he developed it as a defense to make predators think a Snorlax is sleeping nearby or someth-”

“What?” Delia had trouble getting a word in edgewise sometimes, a trait of their relationship she oddly treasured. She liked seeing Jessie excited. “No, why would I ask to hear about…? Never mind, I meant the balloon thing.”

“Ok, yeah, that makes more sense,” Jessie admitted. “It was a thing of genuine beauty. A huge hot air balloon in the shape of Meowth. We even used official Team Rocket funds to commission it. They seemed cool with it.”

“I’d like to point out that they did very much fire you.”

“Oh yeah,” Jessie said with a guttural giggle. “Wow, things are definitely starting to make some more sense now that I say them out loud. But anyway, we used to go everywhere in that balloon. It was our own little home where we never had to deal with property tax. We’d sleep up there, have some fun by spitting off the sides, do… other things off the sides…”

“Honey, I love you but oh my god.”

“Hey, if you can think of other ways to handle being up in the air for days at a time…” Jessie’s old smug nature crept in, which she caught before going any further. “Th-the point is I just miss the balloon. It was sort of a symbol of that complete freedom we used to have. Nothing tying us down, literally. No rules. No responsibilities. No bosses or authori-” she paused, her expression that of a system reboot. “How did we not get fired sooner?”

“I didn’t realize how much you thought about that time,” Delia started to feel just a touch of guilt. Or was it jealousy?

“Not 'all the time' or anything. Some things just remind me of that past life. Like how James and Meowth have been sniping at each other a lot lately,” Jessie said with a look of dawning realization. “They must be feeling homesick too. Or, I mean ‘homesick’ I guess,” she made some halfhearted quotes with her fingers. A glance over at Delia dropped the fingers immediately as Jessie read her wife’s expression, as subtle as it was.

Jessie wordlessly walked over to Delia, not rushing, not holding back, simply going. She took her hands in her own and clasped them.

“I am happier now than I’ve ever been,” Jessie answered a wordless question. There was no need to explore the topic further. This is the most she’d talked about the old days since, she realized, that awkward time when she, James, and Meowth had shown up on Delia’s doorstep completely out of options. It was enough that she got it out.

Delia just smiled. It was a genuine smile, but one that obscured hidden depths. Depths that ironically flew right over Jessie’s head.

Once they finished closing, Jessie and Delia stepped out of the restaurant hand in hand, following James and Meowth who had apparently regained their passion for griping. Jessie paid little attention as they fired quips back and forth, sounding to her like synthesized speech from a Nintendo 64 game. She was content where she was, blissfully strolling home with the love of her life. No thoughts, just vibes.

If she’d only opened her eyes, she’d have seen the poorly-hidden look of sneaky determination emblazoned on Delia’s face.

-the next morning-

“Ash!” Delia burst into her son’s room. “We’re making a balloon!”

[johnwickb1tsch]

Yandere Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick (AND x Constantine😜) Imagine WIP Part 9

Here we go my lovelies! @treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake @tammykelly @lilspookymeh @kurai-hono-blog

Wick could have been an asshole about buying a brand new kitchen, sundries included–but instead he merely shrugs off Constantine's hostile question. "Seemed like the least I could do."

Constantine glares, but lets it go, begrudgingly sitting down to a delectable meal cooked by the man he knows, deep down, that you've never been able to forget. 

At Tex's midday administering of magical medicine, he takes your hand after you finish, refusing to let go. "Set with me a while, Rattlesnake." He pats the couch, on which there is no room unless you were to sit in his lap–undoubtedly his hope.

With a sigh and a knowing smirk you settle back in your chair. Your eyes are drawn to the burn upon his chest. He will carry that mark for the rest of his life, even if the magic is lifted.

You think on what Papa Midnite said to Constantine. "Take some big feeling..."

It kind of floors you, to think of the energy it took for Constantine to conjure that working out of thin air.

For you.

You told him a little bit about the boys. How they hurt you–and, how they saved your life. How you loved them, and how they destroyed you in their abandonment. No matter how you framed it, Constantine blamed them for the bullet wound forever seared in your side.

However, it wasn’t so simple as that. 

"Whacha thinking, baby girl?"

You just shake your head with a tired smile. "Nothing important."

"Hmm. You gonna make me guess? Alright. You're thinkin'...bout that time in Mexico it was just you an me and the stars, out by the pool in our birthday suits."

You snort–quite against your will, it turns into a giggle. 

"No..."

"Uh huh. You’re missin' my wicked tongue up between your thighs. I know that look."

"That's enough of that," you say, trying to stand. But he has your hand, and he tugs you so that you fall down to sit on the edge of the couch–and half on him. Your faces hover just centimeters away. You watch with horror a he tries to lean in, capitalizing on the opportunity. By the skin of your teeth, your heart in your throat, you just barely manage to turn your head.

"Didn't you miss me, rattlesnake?" he asks, his deep voice all sultry and low just wrecking you to the bone.

You dare reach up to caress his cheek with the blade of your thumb. "Of course I did. But there’s no going back, Tex. Maybe...that time is behind us." Just saying it hurts like a knife between the ribs, but you go on, “Maybe you and John did the right thing, letting me go.”

He just narrows his dark eyes at hearing that. You hate the way it gives you such a thrill, to the base of your spine, and lower still. “I thought you were mad about that? Hell, I’m still mad about that. I miss you so much I can hardly think straight. There’s just…” He frowns while he says it, but you know it’s just because he’d literally rather take a bullet than talk about his feelings. His grip on your hand tightens; he glares down at your silver rings like they owe him money.  “There ain’t no point to anything, when you’re gone. Do you know what I mean?”

You close your eyes; for a moment you feel as though the floor has dropped out from under you, because you know exactly what he means. You lived it for months after they booted you, drifting from country to country, an empty husk of a woman, a gaping black hole where your heart used to be. Only after moving to LA, thinking about going back to school, and meeting Constantine, did your life start to feel like it had some meaning again. 

“Yeah. I know what you mean,” you answer quietly. “But how did you think this would go? You’d knock on my door, and I’d just uproot my whole life for you again?”

“Maybe?” The confusion on his handsome face is almost cute. You realize he really did think it would be that easy, and you snort, looking away to a framed Tibetan Thangka painting on the wall. This man. As ever, you’re torn between kissing him and killing him. You have to keep reminding yourself that the former option is not even on the table. 

“At least give me some credit. I coulda come in with guns blazin' but instead I brought flowers."

“You want credit?”

“Yeah. I’m practically a changed man. And I wouldn’t mind an apology from Wizard Boy either.”

"You've got to be kidding me." The pair on this man never ceases to amaze you.

"We were just having a little bit of friendly fisticuffs, but he fucked me up pretty good. That’s called unnecessary escalation.”

He would know. 

"Spare me the macho bullshit. There’s no such thing as friendly fisticuffs. You were going to hurt my boyfriend, and you absolutely deserved what he gave you. You’re lucky he got Midnite to lift it."

Only a beat later do you realize you called Constantine your boyfriend within earshot of everyone, which you never do, because you both hate labels and the word just seems too high school for what you actually are to each other–but there’s no going back now. 

“But–”

At last, at last, you are in a position where you don’t have to swallow his gaslighting. “No buts. You can behave yourself, Tex, or you can go. I mean it.” 

Maybe drawn by the sound of your raised voice, Constantine chooses that moment to intervene, appearing at the foot of the couch with a magnificent frown. 

“Well well, if it ain’t The Boy Who Lived.”

You know he’s just making yet another Harry Potter reference, but considering Constantine’s history, this nickname makes you flinch. Maybe it’s a mistake on your part, but you bristle. “Don’t call him that.”

Constantine, however, betrays nothing, just crossing his arms with that blandly judgy expression. “It’s alright, y/n. He loves childrens’ books–a man has to stick to his reading level.” You don't feel like arguing about the complexity of the later books, so you let the arrow fly.

You lift an eyebrow, side-eyeing Tex. “You do know an awful lot about Harry Potter for a grown ass man your age.”

For possibly the first time ever Tex actually looks sheepish. “Had to read something while I was in the shit.”

Tex never really told you much about his tour of duty in the Middle East. Bradford had intimated that it didn’t end well–but you weren’t exactly keen to take everything that asshole had said with any sort of seriousness. The thought of him holed up in a mud hut reading about Hogwarts kind of pulls at your heartstrings for some ridiculous reason. 

“So what you want, Wizard Boy?” demands Tex, insouciantly refusing to let go of your hand, despite you tugging on it.

“I was going to check your chakras for malevolence, but I'm having second thoughts now.”

“Sounds illegal in five states.”

Constantine snorts. “You want me to double check Midnite's handiwork or not? If there's a trace of darkness left it could spread– and you'll be fucked all over again.”

“Not the way I like, I'm guessin’.”

“Probably not. But then again, you seemed to like Desdemona at the club. You want an introduction?” Constantine has a sly look on his handsome face as he asks this. It must be the succubus you'd run off– the thought of Tex in contact with her again makes you vibrate with jealousy. It is sharp, and fierce, and utterly fucking irrational.

You should encourage Tex to find someone else.

Your heart just doesn't agree.

“I'll…leave you two to it,” you say, reluctantly standing to pull away out of Tex's grip.

Only belatedly, after you've retreated to your room, do you realize that maybe Constantine interrupted your tête a tête with Tex for his sake, rather than yours.

***

John Wick whips you all up a beautiful dinner of sauteed meat and vegetables, complimented with a nice bottle of dry red wine that you're sure did not come from Trader Joe's. You play his sous chef, chopping up veggies, and it almost feels like old times in the kitchen, although he never would have given you access to a big sharp knife before. As though you ever would have had the nerve to stab him. 

Tex was another matter.

At first you all sit down to share a semi-awkward meal, peppered with halting silences–until the second bottle of wine comes out, and then things flow more smoothly. It starts with Constantine cracking a joke at Tex's expense, which is surprisingly backed by Wick with a witty aside. Tex responds good naturedly, for once, and you just sit back and watch with a smile, a warm glow in your chest that feels too close to bliss to possibly last.

You help Wick with the dishes, drying as he washes because your dish rack is tiny. “You look tired, sweetheart,” he says after the last plate, bending down to kiss your forehead. You forget. You fucking forget that there are two other people there, one of whom is your current lover, and out of longing and pure habit you tilt your head back for the second staggeringly sweet kiss on your lips that always followed. 

Only a long beat later do you realize what you've done, with Wick's shining dark eyes looking down on you, missing nothing. You gasp like a scandalized school girl, taking a small step back. “You're right,” you agree. “I am tired. Good night, everyone.” You're such a coward you can't even lift your head to look at any of them, though you can feel their eyes upon you as you scurry away.

Once in the sanctuary of your room you collapse on the bed, clutching the coverlet in your claws for hands, so embarrassed by your slip that you could die. You know that Constantine loves you, even if he’s never outright said it, and honestly probably never will–and this is how you repay him. 

You really are a piece of work.

***

After you retreat, a silence falls over the kitchen, the three formidable men eyeing each other like wolves amidst a power struggle, trying to decide who is the weakest link and who is alpha. It’s Constantine who stands without a word, fetching his green glass bottle of Ardbeg single-malt scotch and setting it down in the middle of the table with a thunk. Then he produces three glasses–none matching–and pours out a finger for each. 

“Gentlemen.” He looks between the two assassins seated at his table, a part of him flabbergasted as to how he’d even ended up in this situation. Before he met you, if someone told him someday he would find a woman he loved more than the air he breathed, he would have laughed them out of the room. 

Not now. 

How the mighty are brought low, and pride goeth before a fall, and all that proverbial biblical bullshit that is old as time and yet somehow still applies. Despite all our advances, humans are still essentially the same animal we were when we first left the cave and started walking upright–or when God created Adam out of dirt, whichever you find more believable.  

“I believe we find ourselves at an impasse.”

“How you figure?” asks Tex, knocking back his drink and helping himself to another. 

“Does being in love with the same woman ring a bell?”

Wick smirks, watching the exchange between the two, sipping his scotch sparingly. He does not contradict Constantine’s assessment, but in his succinct way he drives home the finer point. “More importantly, that woman is in love with all of us.”

The thought pulls something like a growl from deep in Constantine’s chest, but in the end he acknowledges, “Exactly.”

Tex smirks, leaning on his elbows. “Don’t be sore, Wizard Boy. Be grateful we broke her in for you.”

Constantine seems to count to ten under his breath, restraining himself from unleashing a curse on this fucking cowboy again. “You’re gonna have to give me pointers on how you manage not to murder him daily,” he says to Wick. 

“I only listen to about half of what he says,” Wick admits with a smirk, a humorous glitter in his dark eyes.

“Good to know. My point is, if I curse you both into the Seventh Circle, it would hurt her. Likewise, if you two were to dig me a shallow grave out in the desert. You hurt her enough the first time. Do you follow?”

Wick nods, grasping Constantine’s train of thought immediately. Tex, however, has to chew on it a little–maybe because he’d hoped, for once, to finally have this girl to himself. 

“You’re saying you don’t mind sharin’,” finally says Tex with a shit-eating grin, leaning back in his chair. 

“Oh, I mind,” Constantine is sure to clarify. “But it’s up to her, if she wants you or not. If she decides she wants you to go–I will make you go. If she wants you to stay…” He spreads his big hands, as though to say, we’ll figure it out. Somehow.  

Tex narrows his eyes, clearly debating if he should pick a fight over the make you go part, or take it as it sits on the table. “And how do you propose we let her know what we decided about this?”

Constantine snorts at that, draining his glass and standing from the table. “That’s your problem, Howdy Doody. Good night–and may the best man win.” The two assassins watch as John Constantine crosses to your bedroom, and practically shuts the door in their faces. 

***

You are drifting on the edge of sleep when Constantine crawls into bed with you. You smile as you feel the familiar pattern of the depression in the mattress, and moan with surprise as he covers your mouth with his. You taste the Ardbeg on his tongue, which explains some of his ardor, but not all. The fury of his kisses on your lips and neck pulls an involuntary moan from deep in your lungs, his big hands digging into the flesh of your thigh, pulling you on top of him. 

“John…?” Utterly star-struck, you blink down at him, disheveled in your pajama t-shirt and your hair a mess. He reaches up to cup your cheek, dwarfing your face in his large hand, studying you like there will be a test later. He opens his mouth like there’s something he wants to say to you, but he can’t quite get it out, the words stuck in his throat. 

You think you know what it is, and your heart warms for it, that tingling thrill filling your chest and spreading outwards. You’re not even mad, that he can’t say it, because you get him. This is not the week you’re going to push him out of his comfort zone, more than you already have. Most of LA would laugh to hear it, but John Constantine has been a veritable fucking saint the past couple of days, and you’re so grateful to him. 

“It’s ok,” you say softly, tracing the line of his square jaw. “I know.” 

He frowns, almost like he wants to argue, but in the end he just shakes his head and pulls you to him.

You want to apologize for almost kissing John Wick right in fucking front of him–but that sticks in your throat too. You guess you’re both just a little raw tonight.

He peels off your t-shirt greedily as he guides you down. Hungry lips and a teasing tongue find the sensitive tips of your breasts, making you squirm with longing above him. You know you’ve already soaked through the laughable barrier of your panties, and are probably leaving an unsightly stain on his nice (200 dollar, he likes to tell you with a smirk) white shirt–but if the Chinese laundry down the street can get out demon blood stains, what’s a little cum?

You let out a cry of longing as he releases your nipple with a pop; the ache between your thighs is already nearly unbearable, and you can't stop yourself from grinding against his lean torso. You shut your mouth as soon as you open it, conscious of the paper thin walls and the two dangerous men on the other side of them.

“You like that, baby?” he taunts, hooking his fingers in your panties to tug them down.

“You know I do,” you pant. 

“Then let me hear you,” he invites with a wicked smirk, shifting down so that you are nearly sitting on his face. You don’t know what was said out there, but you are starting to get the idea that John Constantine is up to something. But before you can even begin to think what to do about it, he pulls you forward with an undeniable grip on your thighs, and his tongue is laving up your slit.

“Fuck.”

This exclamation is not quiet, and neither are the ones after it. You practically shake the walls with your cries when you cum on his tongue, your body rendered into a quivering mess of over-stimulated nerves. He does not grant you mercy, even when you beg him, and by the time he is done with you, you are halfway to your second orgasm.

“Do you want me baby?” he demands, panting from his champion cunnilingus league exertions as he undresses himself. There is a desperation in his tone you’ve never quite heard before, and you have a feeling he’s not just talking about sex.

“I need you,” you tell him, and you mean every word. It wins you every inch of his hard cock buried inside you, and you can’t stop yourself from moaning, as though there is no room for breath in your body when filled with his impressive manhood. He grips you hard enough to bruise, his face buried in the bend of your neck.

He drives himself inside of you, hips pumping with the fury of his need, but he’s prepared you for it. It’s all you can do just to hold on, to the bed, to him, letting him use you exactly the way he wants to, because you know the past couple of days have been anything but easy for him. 

When his thumb finds your clit you think you might die from the overwhelming sensation of it. “No,” you beg, somehow smiling through your exasperation. “Please. Mercy.”

He just pays you that impish curl of lips that always seriously makes you question which side he's playing for. “You can take it,” he informs you. “For me?” The way he pouts down at you while simultaneously rearranging your insides should be illegal.

“Fuck,” you swear again, and he grins down at you, knowing he’s got you in the bag. With your ankles around his ears he slows down for you, but still fills you to the absolute brim, working you in just the rhythm he knows you need with the tip of his too-clever thumb. There is a heart wrenching beauty in making love like this. The two of you have reached an understanding of each other's bodies, a point of familiarity in which you just know, and yet somehow each time is better than the last.

It isn't long before you cum on his cock with a ragged scream that you know there’s no way in hell the boys didn’t hear, yet you cannot stop it, you cannot care, because the man inside you has rendered you into a vessel for this mind-bending pleasure and in this moment, you belong completely to him. His hips snap against yours, and soon he follows with your greedy little cunt fluttering around him, spilling himself inside you with a loud groan.

He collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. You revel in the sticky warmth of his seed seeping between your thighs, his heart a furious drumbeat beneath your ear. “Jesus fucking Christ,” is all you can manage to wheeze against the warmth of his chest.

“Right initials,” he pants, pressing lips to your hair. “Wrong guy.”

Thinking you really might have lost your mind, you start to cackle, and you can’t stop until you literally can’t breathe. You do not even have the energy to clean up, falling asleep in the beautiful mess John made of you, and maybe it’s just you, but even in his sleep John Constantine seems to hold you more tightly than he ever has before.

------------

😬

it's on? 😈😈😈

@sweetwolfcupcake @treedaddymcpuffpuff @tammykelly

[annaloveshjp]

The Exit

- ex!harry potter x fem!reader - summary: this is inspired/based off of the song "The Exit" by Conan Gray :) grab your tissues, loves - a/n: started writing this a while ago and just finished it recently. I hope you like it and I'm sorry it's kind of short - word count: 1.8k

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

Your heart sunk at the sight. Harry had just walked into the café you used to visit together, but it wasn’t you on his arm this time.

Ginny was her name. She was beautiful, you couldn’t lie to yourself. You knew her from Harry's hometown; she was the sister of his best friend. You watched as they walked up to the counter and ordered their drinks. You tried to look away, yet you couldn’t help but notice her features and wonder why he chose her and left you. She was so similar in so many ways.

It had been nine months since your split, yet, you hadn’t moved on. He had. He seemed so happy, and you couldn’t understand how he did it. You wished you could walk up to him and ask him “How?”

But no, that would embarrass both of you.

So you sat with your half-cold coffee and watched them playfully bicker about how boring Harry’s coffee order was: Plain black, no cream, no sugar. Just bitter. 

Like yourself. You thought bitterly as Ginny ordered something different for Harry.

You wanted to be happy for him, truly, but all you could think about when you saw the forced smile on his face as Ginny ordered for him was how you would never do something like that. Let him make his own decisions. Your jaw clenched, It’s not cute.

Or maybe it was? 

You had been so deep in thought that you almost didn’t notice them finish ordering. Ginny pulled Harry by the arm and started to look for an empty table. While her eyes were wandering, Harry’s eyes met yours for only a second. They grew wide before looking for a table to distract themselves. In that second, you took notice of Harry’s clean-shaven face. You knew Harry liked growing out his facial hair a bit, so Ginny must’ve said she liked a clean face.

“Here,” you heard GInny say as she walked with Harry over to an empty table not too far from yours. You tensed up as Harry took the chair that faced away from you, leaving Ginny to face you.

You focused your attention on your forgotten book on your table, but you couldn’t help but overhear their conversation. They started to talk about moving plans and apartment ideas. The words on the pages of your book began to blur as you unconsciously aimed your focus at Ginny’s words about how she’d officially move in by the end of the week.

Your mind suddenly flashed back to all of those days of talking about your life with Harry. You two would share the biggest room in his apartment, and the smaller one would be the guest room for friends. Thinking about mornings in the kitchen; you could see yourself singing a tune while Harry made breakfast. But you never got to those days. Ginny will.

Harry had talked about Ginny a few times during your relationship, but it seemed like she was a younger sister-type figure. You never noticed how he would go on about how funny she was, or the way he liked how she would tease him. You had been so blinded by your love for him that you didn’t even see he loved someone else. 

You didn’t hate Harry, you never could, but you wished he had tried to keep the relationship together. It was a rough parting–for you at least. Harry had invited you to his apartment one day, which you accepted, but you had arrived late. Your hair was messed up from the wind. Your mascara, smudged, from the rain and you rubbing your eyes.

“I’m sorry I look a mess,” you muttered an unnecessary apology as you entered his apartment. “The rain was awful, and–”

“Where were you?” Harry asked you, a touch of suspicion in his voice. 

You looked up at him. “I got home from work late,” you told him, trying to be kind. “I was exhausted and decided to take a nap, but I totally lost track of time, so I had to rush to get here. I’m sorry. Really.”

“Work, hm?” he said quietly. You watched as he walked around the couch to get closer to you, not making eye contact.

“Yes, Harry. Work,” you said, confused. “What else would I be doing on a Tuesday night? Drinking at a bar?” you asked him sarcastically. 

“Maybe,” he said. 

You hung your jacket up, walking closer to him. 

“Are you alright–?” you began to ask before Harry interrupted.

“No, I’m not,” he said bluntly. “I want to know where you’ve been,”

“What do you mean?” you asked him, backing up a step.

“You know what I mean,” he scoffed, walking away. “You’re always late coming over here and I want to know why,”

“Always?” you asked. “It’s only been a few times that I was late, and usually it’s because I work late or there’s traffic. I don’t know what you’re on about, Harry, but whatever it is, I don’t like where it’s going.” 

“Me bloody either, Y/N!” he said loudly, making you jump. “You’ve been seeing someone else and I want to know who!”

“What the fuck, Harry?” you shouted back. “Why would I be seeing someone else?”

“Maybe because I’m not good enough, I don’t know!” he cried. “Look at you! Your hair’s all messed up and so is your makeup!”

“Yeah, Harry, if you couldn’t tell, it’s pouring outside!” you yelled exasperatedly, motioning to the horrid weather showing through his window. 

He laughed bitterly. “Don’t be making excuses now, love,”

“I’m not,” you said quietly. 

“Fuck, Y/N!” he shouted, pulling at his hair. 

“What do you want me to say?” you asked loudly. 

“I don’t know, tell me the truth!” he yelled. 

“I am!” you yelled back, stomping your foot.

“We’re done, Y/N,” Harry said lowly, looking up and glaring at you. 

You stop. What the fuck?

“Harry, wait–”

“No, Y/N, you heard me,” he said. 

“But why?” you begged. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Sure you didn’t,” he grumbled. “Get out, please,”

Suddenly, you had an epiphany. 

“Are you and Ginny fucking?” you asked him, leaving all your emotions behind.

His face dropped. 

“I– what?”

“Answer the fucking question, Harry,” you demanded, glaring daggers at him.

How could you have not seen it before? It’s so obvious now, you wanted to smack yourself across the face right then and there. 

Harry only looked at you guiltily before saying, “So, you really aren't cheating?”

“No, Harry, I’m not,” you said. “I never was. But now that I know that you are, I’m leaving,”

“No, wait–”

“No, Harry! You’ve made it pretty obvious that you’re seeing Ginny, and I wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect bond, now, would I?” you cried, tears burning your eyes.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I was being stupid. I never thought you cheated I just–” he pleaded.

“Just what? Wanted to make yourself feel better about the fact that you were already fucking someone else?” you said. “And yeah, Harry, you’re pretty fucking stupid.”

“Fuck,” Harry sighed. “Don’t know why I did that, Baby, I’m sorry,”

“Good for you,” you said sarcastically. “I’m done,”

You quickly grabbed your coat and turned the door handle. 

With the door open, you turned to Harry. 

“Fuck you,” you spat.

Slamming the door, you walked out of his apartment, letting your tears fall free.

You hadn’t talked to him at all since then, but now that you’re seeing him with her, part of you wanted to run to him and forgive him for everything that he did, but the other part wanted him to miss you and regret ever leaving you.

You watched from behind Harry as he sipped his coffee (Caramel latte, two sugars, with a pump of vanilla) and you could imagine the forced look of delight as he placed his cup down. Definitely way too sweet for him.

Your lips quivered as you remembered how he would laugh if you would ever suggest he try something out of his comfort zone. You missed how comfortable he was with you. You hadn’t seen that with Ginny the whole ten minutes they’d been here. 

Maybe his taste for coffee changed? No, that would be stupid, right? I don’t know.

You couldn’t take it much longer. With a loud screech, you pushed your chair out and walked to the bathroom, needing a break from Ginny's pretty face. You made sure not to look back to see if Harry saw.

Down the hall to the restrooms, you stopped in front of the door, not needing to go in. You took a few deep breaths, trying to clear your head. 

Footsteps approached behind you and came to a halt, making you realize you were probably blocking the bathroom door. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, not looking up but backing away from the door. The owner of the footsteps didn’t go into the bathroom but said your name. 

“Y/N,” the voice said. You couldn’t believe your ears for a moment, so you trusted your eyes and looked up to see Harry looking down at you with an emotion you couldn’t quite recognize in his eyes.

“Oh, uhm, hi,” you said. “What do you want?” 

“I– fuck. I wanted to apologize. Properly,” said Harry.

You looked around. “Seriously? Right here?” you whispered. “Ginny is literally right there, you dumbass!” you pushed his chest slightly, a part of you wanting to touch him, even for a moment.

“Yes, right here, Y/N. I told her I was going to the bathroom, it’s fine.” he ensured. “I just– I realized how big of a mistake I made last February and I wanted you to know how sorry I am,”

“You just realized?” you scoff. “I realized that the moment I stepped out of your apartment, Harry. I swear, things had just started to bloom between us, like, the peak of us, and you just left. I felt like I was standing at the exit for months. The exit to our relationship. Maybe I still am.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him. 

“Oh, and speaking of apartments! Ginny is moving in with you this Friday, right? I’m so happy for you!” you congratulate him sarcastically with a bitter laugh. “You must really be in love if she’s coming with you that fast! It took you over a year to ask me to move in, but she’s already moved with you in nine months?”

“Y/N,” he starts.

“Don’t Y/N me,” you say lowly. “You love her, it’s over. This is over.” you motion to the two of you. 

He gives you a pleading look but you just glare at him. You push your way past him and walk back to your table. Ginny catches your eye and gives you a polite smile. You return it. You figured Harry had never talked about you to her, so you didn’t worry about her recognizing you.

You finish packing your things and head for the door. Looking back at their table, you see Harry looking at you, but you only give both of them a polite smile and walk out of the exit.

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

[cloudcountry]

meet him halfway

Genre/Tropes: Unestablished relationship. No notable ones!!

Summary: Kalim catches onto Jamil's little crush on you (it's more than that) and Jamil denies it because there's no way the two of you could ever end together (even though you want to.)

Author's Comments: This is loosely based on the song "I Won't Say I'm in Love" from Hercules. I stared with the intention of Kalim being more insistent (and taking the role of the muses) but then it turned into this.

~~~~~

“Are you packing extra food for the Prefect again?”

Jamil winced at the loud voice as Kalim popped up over his shoulder, watching as he chopped up the meat he was using for Kalim’s lunch.

“No. And don’t say again, I never have. They can feed themselves.” he hissed, brow furrowing as he continued chopping.

“Aww, okay. You just always end up giving them the second box so I thought-”

“I make one for myself, too. Don’t think too much of it.” he said, “I’m only required to make your meals. I do not do such things for the Prefect.”

“Really? Because I thought you liked them!” Kalim responded.

WHAT?

Jamil jumped, whirling around to face him. He couldn’t wipe the annoyed glare off his face as Kalim blinked at him innocently.

How did he figure it out?!

“It’s nothing like that.” he sighed, shaking his head, “I have to make lunch for myself, you know. It has nothing to do with them.”

“Are you sure?” Kalim asked, looking very puzzled, “Because you smile a lot when you talk to them and they’re always in the kitchen with you during our parties instead of hanging out with everyone else. They’ve even told me about how you taught them to cook stuff from our home- Mmph!”

Jamil placed a hand over Kalim’s mouth, effectively cutting off his train of thought. This was bad. If Kalim knew about his feelings for you, there was no telling who else knew. If that annoying octopus from Octavinelle figured it out Jamil would be in a world of trouble.

How irritating.

“Don’t say such senseless things.” he hissed, releasing Kalim, “I have no feelings for the Prefect whatsoever. Has anyone else been talking about this baseless rumor?”

“No…I just thought you might like someone.” Kalim pouted, “I got excited because I like the Prefect and I wanted an excuse to throw parties for them-”

“Well, I don’t. Now go away. I won’t get your lunch prepared at this point.” Jamil shooed him away, knowing full well he would have had his lunch ready regardless.

“Okay! But I invited them over, so if you want to say hi you can!” Kalim beamed, scurrying out of the kitchen before Jamil could yell at him.

Was he serious?! Ugh, now he had to deal with you too.

Jamil rolled his eyes before getting back to work, hoping he could finish his duties before you arrived. If he could get Kalim his lunch and make sure he had all his things and walk Kalim to his class and then get to his without running into you, it would be the ideal morning.

With the way he talked about you, one would think he hated you.

That conclusion would be better than thinking he liked you.

He sped up his pace, not missing a beat as he finished up the two lunchboxes (one of which was totally for him. Giving it to you didn’t even cross his mind, because why in the world would he do that?)

“Jamil?” you called his name, opening the door to the kitchen, “Are you in here?”

“Yes.” he responded, mentally kicking himself for letting you know where he was even though it’d be suspicious to hide from you.

“Hey!” you caught his gaze, beaming as you shut the door behind you, “Is Kalim giving you trouble again? I can get his stuff together for you.”

“It’s fine. I can handle it.” he shot you a smile, hoping that would be enough to end the conversation.

It was you, though. Of course you kept talking.

“Of course you can. I just don’t want to get too stressed out.” you sighed, sounding upset that he hadn’t let you help.

“...If you could help walk Kalim to his next class, that would be a big help.” he mumbled, turning his head towards you for the first time since you came in.

Your face was so happy, the smile on your lips brighter than the overhead lights of the kitchen. Jamil swallowed thickly, face warming at the sight of you.

Pretty.

“Of course I can! I’ll make sure he gets there safe and sound, so you can count on me!” you cheered.

Jamil sighed again, stacking the two boxes. At least this way, both you and Kalim would be out of his hair shortly. He’d be able to fulfill his duties of watching Kalim and get to his class without a headache today because of you.

Besides, it’s not like he wanted to walk around with Kalim.

“Here, take these. They’re for Kalim’s lunch.” Jamil shoved the boxes into your hands, turning away quickly.

“Thank you! I’ll tell him that you’re almost ready to go!” you tucked the boxes into your chest like they were precious gems before exiting the kitchen.

He breathed a sigh of relief, resting against the counter. He didn’t have time for you or your smiles or laughs. He had a duty to Kalim, and he just partially gave that up to get away from you. He wasn’t in his right mind right now at all. Shaking his head, he wrinkled his nose at the feelings swarming around in his chest.

Whatever these feelings were, he couldn’t act on them. He was in no position to devote himself to another when his entire life was to be spent in service of Kalim.

It would be unfair to you to expect you to take his hand if he could only extend it halfway.

(Unbeknownst to him, you’d always been trying to meet him halfway.)

[topgun-imagines]

For My Daughter

Requested: yes

Summary: When Bradley rushes home from training, Maverick follows him and discovers something he never would have guessed. Bradley has a daughter.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Crying baby, mentions of death, mentions of abandonment by a parent.

Note: Based off the song ‘For My Daughter’ by Kane Brown. This is pretty different than any other story I’ve written. (Not really a reader insert)

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Daughter

The Dagger Squad had finally made their way back to the hangar after a long day of training. Maverick was trailing behind them slightly. The older man watched as Bradley fiddled anxiously with his sunglasses. The pilot was the first one to the hangar, quickly collecting all of his belongings before waiting for their instructor to return. None of the other aviators seemed to notice the way Bradley was about to sprint out of the hangar. He glanced at Maverick, almost pleading with the man to make things quick. He had somewhere that he really needed to be.

As if the older man could sense his desperation, Maverick made his final notes quick and bid the class goodbye. Rooster was quick to leave the room. He rushed to the locker room and changed quickly.

In mere minutes he was in his truck, pulling out of the parking lot and rushing to his house. He made the dive very quick, most likely breaking numerous laws in the process. He pulled into the driveway, jumped from his truck and ran up to the door. The door was already unlocked, meaning all he had to do was yank it open and rush inside. “Amelia?” He frantically called out. His wide eyes glanced around as he moved through the living room.

Moments later he could hear loud cries coming from the kitchen. “In here Rooster,” He entered the room seconds later, looking around until he found Amelia and his daughter. She was seated at the kitchen table, rocking the small baby back and forth to try and soothe her. Bradley cooed softly before moving to take her from the young girl's arms. The baby continued to cry even in her father's arms. “I’m not sure what’s wrong. I’ve tried everything.” Amelia spoke up, gesturing to all of the baby items littered across the table.

Bradley only nodded, gently swaying his daughter to try and get her cries to stop. When they only got louder Bradley sighed. Ever since her mother had walked out a few months ago, Bradley found that his daughter was only growing more and more restless. Some days it seemed that without her mother, his daughter was almost inconsolable. “It’s alright, Amelia. Thank you.” The girl only smiled at him. She moved to collect her belongings and pack them into her bag.

Just as she was finishing packing up, there was a knock on the door. Bradley’s daughter began crying louder. Amelia moved to open it, allowing Bradley to try and comfort his daughter. He could hear the door open and suddenly the house was quiet save for the cries of his daughter. Bradley waited for Amelia to return, half expecting it to be some random door-to-door salesman. However, when he saw Maverick walk into the kitchen with Amelia trailing behind him looking somewhat anxious, he realized he was extremely mistaken.

The young girl smiled at him as she grabbed her bag. Bradley mouthed a thank you one last time before she disappeared from the room. He could hear the door close behind her seconds later. His eyes moved to the man standing in the middle of his kitchen. Maverick’s eyes were focused on the small bundle in Bradley's arms. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted, a look of shock painted across his face.

Bradley cleared his throat, causing Maverick’s eyes to dart up to his. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.” The older man spoke, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the crying baby. The pilot nodded, bouncing his daughter in his arms. Ever since the uranium mission the two of them had been working toward rebuilding their relationship but his daughter was very important to him. He had decided that he was going to wait and tell Maverick when the time was right. It seemed as if the universe had decided that now was the time.

Still standing in the doorway, Maverick watched as Bradley struggled to calm his daughter. He was just about to move to reward when he hesitated. While he wanted to help Bradley calm his little girl, he didn’t want to overstep. “If you want,” The older man started, taking a small step forward. “I can help?” It ended up coming out as more of a question than a statement, Maverick’s hesitancy carrying through his voice. Bradley glanced up at Maverick before nodding slightly.

Maverick took that as his cue to move forward. With the younger pilot's permission, he scooped the little girl from his arms and started rocking her back and forth. Bradley watched as the older man adjusted his daughter in his arms, moving her so that she was in a position to burp her. Groaning, Bradley tipped his head back and stared at the roof. How could he have missed that? In only a few minutes the baby had burped, instantly ending her cries.

Bringing the baby back into a cradled position, Maverick began walking around the kitchen slowly. Bradley led him out of the kitchen and into his bedroom where her crib was set up. Once they were in the room, Maverick set the baby down into her crib and turned on the mobile above her. That instantly seemed to peak her attention, her wide eyes focusing on it as it spun. The both of them watched as her eyes slowly drifted shut, her small lips parting as she finally fell asleep.

They headed downstairs, Maverick trailing after the younger man as they headed back into their kitchen. “Want something to drink?” Bradley questioned. Mav nodded, mentioning something about a water as he sat at the table. The younger pilot returned a few seconds later with two glasses of water. “How did you know to do that?”

Chuckling quietly, Maverick sipped his water before answering. “That’s what we did for you when you were her age,” Bradley sat in stunned silence until Maverick spoke again. “Your dad showed me how to do it one day when you were being particularly fussy.” Mav laughed at the memory. That brought a smile onto Bradley’s face.

They both sat in silence for the next few minutes. That was until Bradley spoke up. “I’m sorry for not telling you about her,” Maverick could only shake his head. He understood why Bradley never said anything. He had seen the stress that Carole had when she was raising Bradley without a father. Now her son was raising his own daughter by himself at a much younger age. He couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been for him. “Really I was. It’s just hard without her mom around.’’

Nodding, Mav took a sip of his water before speaking. “You know kiddo,” He started, drawing Bradley’s attention with just those first few words. “If you need help I’ll always be here for you.” Bradley could only smile. He fought his hardest to not let himself cry, although he found it hard with all the emotions he was feeling. It was nice to hear that his father figure would be there for him and his daughter. He always had fears that he was going to end up just like his father. That he was going to end up dying while on duty, leaving his daughter to grow up without a father. Considering the fact that her mother had walked out on them, Bradley was all that his daughter had left. He had made a promise to her that she would never have to find out what it is like to grow up without a father. A promise that he intended on keeping.

“Thank you for your help today Mav,” Bradley smiled at the older man, finishing off his cup before setting it on the table. “And I’m glad that you’re gonna get to be a part of her life. I’m sure she’s gonna love having her grandpa around.” Now it was Maverick’s turn to try and hold off tears. He could only return the younger man's smile. Bradley was right. He was really looking forward to being a part of her life.

A/n: Thank you all for reading! Feel free to send in any requests.

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

pairing: minho x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!minho. sick!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. angst galore. reader is sick. minho is a soft and doting bf. reader has a fainting scare/high temp/migraine. slight possessive behavior from minho (but in a cute and soft way, i promise!!). pet names (affectionately). cuteness overload.

word count: 8.3k

summary: it's the dead of winter when you suddenly come down with a bad case of the flu. and your doting boyfriend minho is more than happy and willing to help you through the pain.

a/n: yes, i am fully on the brainwashing and brainrotting train that is writing minho out to be a soft, caring bf. don't come for me, it's one of the only pleasures in my life rn!! i wrote this in one sitting (and yes, most of the content in here is based off of my own experience with the flu this past year), so it might be horrible or really amazing. lmk what ya'll think and if you'd like more of this content from me! :))

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The first symptom of the flu to come upon you was a sore throat. It happened just after you and Minho had finished eating dinner - since it was a Wednesday night, Chinese takeout had been on the menu. 

 You were laying in bed, already cozied up in your pajamas and snuggled under the thick coverlets, reading one of the winter-themed books that you had recently checked out at your local library. When, all of a sudden, your throat started to feel scratchy. Every few minutes, you kept reaching over to your nightstand table to take a sip from the glass of water that you always kept there. 

 Just then Minho came out of the master bedroom’s adjoining bathroom, clad in the black sweatpants that he always wore to bed. He was shirtless since his hot-blooded self could never fall asleep if he had too many clothes on. You got a clear view of his chiseled chest muscles and sinewy biceps as he padded over to you with his slippers on and gave your forehead a gentle kiss. 

 When he pulled away from you and saw the discomfort that was evident in the way your brows were furrowed together, he frowned slightly. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked, tucking a few strands of your loose hair behind your ear as he peered down at you with those sparkly, expressive doe-eyes of his. 

 “I don’t know, my throat hurts all of a sudden.” You said, swallowing over the painful scratch in your mouth. 

 “Did you drink some water?” 

 “Yeah, but it’s not helping…” 

 “Let me make you some warm tea, then,” your boyfriend reached down and tenderly squeezed your forearm with a tiny smile stretching across his lips. “Surely that will help you feel better.” 

 “But- Min, it’s too late, you worked so much today… it’s okay, I can make it,” you protested, catching hold of his wrist and stopping him from leaving your side. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, even as your throat was screaming at you for something warm. 

 “It’s okay, kitten. Making the tea will only take a few minutes, and then I’ll be right back in bed with you.” Just then he bent into you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away and ruffling some of your hair with a wide grin on his face. “Wanna help you, baby, hmm?” 

 And how could you deny that face? Those words? So, you released your grasp over him and watched him flood from the bedroom. Not a minute later you heard rummaging in the kitchen, as your loving boyfriend began to prepare a cup of tea for you. 

 In his absence, you tried - and failed - to get comfortable in bed again. Your book was long forgotten on your nightstand, and your throat had gotten so progressively worse over a few minutes that swallowing was starting to hurt. 

 Just when you thought you couldn’t take waiting any longer, Minho walked through your bedroom door with a huge, steaming mug in his hands. “It’s lemon-chamomile flavour… I added some honey for extra comfort, too.” He said as he placed it into your outstretched palms. 

 “Thank you, baby- don’t deserve you.” You mumbled in a quiet voice, offering him a tiny smile. 

 “Does it hurt to talk?” He asked as he turned off the lamp on your nightstand before rounding the bed and joining you on his side. He got comfortable underneath the thick duvet before switching off the last remaining light in the bedroom. 

 Everything was thrown into darkness around you, and for a moment, you were disoriented. But then you felt a familiar hand reach over to you and grasp one of your free hands, squeezing slightly, and you relaxed into your pillows. 

 “Yeah, kinda…” Your voice trailed off into the night as you took a sip of the tea. It was piping hot, but even still, felt amazing as it went down. You could already feel the chamomile and honey concoction soothing your discomfort away. “This tastes amazing, Min. Thank you.” 

 Minho snuggled deeper into the covers, shivering a few times from the chill in the air. It was the dead of winter and even with the heat blasting throughout your shared apartment, your place always seemed to have a cold draft traveling between the few rooms. “I’m glad you like it.” Your boyfriend’s voice was heavy, indicating that he was truly exhausted. 

 You leaned over to him and carded a few fingers through his dark, chestnut-brown hair. “Now, go to sleep, you workaholic. You’ve got a jam-packed schedule for the rest of the week.” You said into the quiet that had suddenly fallen over the bedroom. 

 Your words suddenly had Minho groaning into his pillow, “Don’t even fucking remind me about tomorrow’s schedule- it’s gonna be hell, for sure,” he began in that deep voice of his that would always come out late at night. You had told him many times in the past that you loved the sound of it, to which he cockily said that he’d try to stay up later with you so that way you could hear it more and gush over how sexy he sounded. Secretly, he loved the praise… a little too much, if you were truly honest with yourself. “You’ll be okay to go to bed?” He suddenly asked, bringing you out of your reverie of thought on his sultry ‘night voice.’

 “Just fine,” you whispered, snuggling down under the sheets. You could already feel the heat that was radiating off of Minho’s body, as he slowly warmed the two of you up just with his hot-blooded self alone. 

 “Okay, then… goodnight, my baby. Feel better in the morning, yeah?” 

 “Goodnight Min. And sure, I’ll try to.” You replied in a quiet voice. 

 And then there was no reply from your boyfriend, as he swiftly drifted off to dreamland. After you had finished your tea, you snuggled up against him, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and pressing your back against his inviting, bare chest. The chamomile had helped immensely to take the ache in your throat away, and in no time at all, you were joining Minho in dreamland.

 When you woke up the next day, your throat hurt like a bitch. You had thought that the night before had been bad, but nothing compared to how dry and scratchy it felt so early in the morning. 

 Turning over on your side with a groan, you cracked your eyes open against the bright light shining through from the bedroom’s large bay window. You noticed how Minho’s space was already empty. You shifted a palm across his pillow, noting the coldness of the satin fabric. 

 Stumbling out of bed a few minutes later, you realized how quiet the apartment was. With a glance at the nearby clock on your nightstand, the time read just past seven in the morning. Minho was already long gone.

 Since your sore throat had only gotten worse overnight, you deemed yourself unfit to go to work that day. So after having called up your manager and telling her that you had to take a sick day, you slowly got ready for the day. The hot shower worked somewhat in relieving your throat pain, but not by much. And by the time you had dried your hair, brushed your teeth, and thrown on some comfy sweats and one of the many hoodies that you had stolen from Minho throughout your relationship, a spilling migraine had begun to bloom across your temples. 

 “Just my luck…” You mumbled to yourself as you made your way into the kitchen. With a glance around the adjacent living room/dining room, you noticed how the apartment looked more tidy than usual. Your boyfriend must’ve cleaned the place before he left early that morning. The thought of him picking up because you didn’t feel well left a wide smile on your face as your trudged to the fridge. 

 Having opened the thing, you noticed a huge soup pot that was covered with a lit, sitting on the middle shelf. A note was attached to the top of it, and it read, 

 Baby, 

 Made some rice porridge for you this morning. Didn’t have time to wake you up to tell you, so only kissed you goodbye. Text me after you’re finished eating- I haven’t made the recipe in a while and want to know how I did. 

 Love you, and hope you feel better, 

 - Min XX 

 You felt the emotions rising inside of you as you read the small note again, and soon, your eyes were turning watery from unshed tears. He truly was the best boyfriend ever. Minho was the type of guy who liked to share his love for you in actions. He loved cooking for you and cleaning for you. But over time, since you two had started dating, he had slowly become more expressive with his feelings through words as well. It was a nice change that you gladly welcomed and it made your heart all fuzzy to know that he was trying to be a better lover for you alone. 

 In no time at all, you had heated a portion of rice porridge for yourself. It was chock full of tender, flavourful chicken, and tons of veggies - like carrots, mushrooms, and even zucchini. You drizzled some fish sauce and soy sauce on top of it and used the chopped-up scallions that Minho had left for you to garnish the porridge. 

 You took a picture to send to your boyfriend before you dug into the meal. And instantly, you felt so much better. The heat of the porridge slid down your throat and coated your insides with a fuzzy, comforting feeling. It was so very delectable and you finished it in just a few minutes. After you were done eating, you made sure to take some ibuprofen that you had on hand to try and combat the splitting migraine that was upon you. 

 Sending the picture you had taken earlier of your meal, you quickly texted Minho.

Min Today 10:03

Me: Just had the porridge… WHY have you never made this for me before?! It was amazing!! 

 Within a minute, he texted back. 

Min: Wow, I had no idea you’d like it that much, I’ll have to make it again. It makes me happy to hear that you enjoyed it. :) Did it help with your sore throat? You looked to be in discomfort when I left this morning… 

Me: Yes! The porridge really soothed me, I feel better already! 

Min: Ok, I’m glad then :) You took off work today, right? 

Me: I mean, yeah, since I can barely talk :( 

Min: Awe baby :( I’m so sorry. Just rest today, I’ll try to be home earlier than I was last night. 

Me: I’ll just be laying in bed all day haha… and ok, have a good day at work! Love you &lt;3

Min: Love you too &lt;;33

 Staring at the bright screen of your phone was only making your headache worse, so you turned it off and trekked back to your bed. The exhaustion hit you as soon as your back hit the soft mattress, and halfway through the comfort movie you had turned on on the tv, you were already drifting off to sleep. 

 Late that same night, the fever started. At first, your cheeks were just flushed, which could happen from time to time. But then, the back of your neck started to feel warm too. And soon, it felt like your entire body had been doused in a scorching hot pit of lava. 

 Keeping to his word, Minho arrived home an entire hour earlier than the night before. When he walked through the apartment’s front door at eleven with both hands full of groceries, you immediately stood up from the living room couch to help him unpack. 

 “No, no- I’ve got it. Go sit back down,” he insisted, trying to shoo you away with his hand as he placed the many bags atop the kitchen counter. 

 You peeked into one of them and saw a huge box of multi-flavoured popsicles. “What’s all this for?” You mumbled in a weak voice. 

 “You, my dear… want to cook some good meals to help you feel better,” Minho said, turning you towards him so that he could get a good look at your face. When he noticed the deep crimson flush that stretched across your cheeks and traveled down to the part of your next that was exposed from your - formerly his - baggy hoodie, his brows furrowed. “Baby, do you feel warm?” The light in his eyes flashed with concern as he gently pressed a hand against your cheek and forehead. 

 “Y-yeah, a little…” 

 “You’re burning up,” Minho said, voice a little panicked as he led you back over to the living room couch, the groceries suddenly forgotten. You had only ever gotten a fever once before in all the time that you two had been dating, and it hadn’t been all that bad, to begin with. And it sure as hell hadn’t made you feel as hot as you did just then. “Here, let me get the thermometer.” 

 Then he was gone from your side and rushing into your bedroom, in search of the only thermometer you kept on hand. Resting against the couch, you tried to focus on anything else but the soreness in your throat and the heat that flooded through your veins just then. The headache had come back with a vengeance a little earlier that night, the ibuprofen wearing off fairly quickly. Much to your demise.  

 Minho was beside you again a few minutes later, thermometer in hand. “Baby, open for me,” he instructed, and you opened your mouth slightly so that he could slide the small thing under your tongue. The metal felt cold against your teeth, and time seemed to pass by agonizingly slowly, as you two sat there on the couch and waited for the reading. When it finally beeped loudly, Minho took it out and inspected it. “Nighty-nine-point-eight. You’ve definitely got a fever.” 

 You closed your eyes then, resting an arm across your eyes and groaning into the crook of your elbow. Even your eyelids felt hot. “Fuck- I’ll have to take off more sick days from work. I really can’t afford to do that-”

 “Kitten, I think that’s the least of your worries right now,” your boyfriend said softly just beside you. You felt his hand wrap around your knee and squeeze the skin there gently. “I’m going to get some cold rags, okay? Just- stay here.” By the way that his voice had turned a little high-pitched, you could tell how he was slowly starting to get stressed out about the whole thing. Which was saying a lot, since there wasn’t much in the world that could stress him out. 

 The two of you rarely fell ill, and when you did, it was always a mild case of the cold. So for you to have so many symptoms all at once, must’ve been very overwhelming for your boyfriend. But, what could you do? The sickness was here, and it was here to stay… 

 You felt something cold press against your forehead amid your thoughts, and you cracked your tired eyes open to glimpse Minho leaning towards you on the couch, two other wet washcloths in hand. 

 “These will help to cool you down,” he explained, as he helped move you forward a little bit so that he could place the second cloth behind your neck. Then you let him guide you so that you were fully laying down on the couch, limbs sprawled out. You were too sapped of energy to even ask what he was doing as he gingerly lifted your oversized hoodie. When you felt the coldness of a third, and final washcloth press against your stomach, you understood his sudden actions. “You should take some ibuprofen, that’ll help bring your fever down.” 

 “I can’t take it without first eating something.” 

 “Then I’ll make you some food- did you have dinner?” 

 You shook your head no, the motion only making your pounding headache worse. You winced and grabbed at your head, massaging one of your temples. 

 “How about I heat some of the rice porridge from earlier?” Minho offered before standing up from his kneeling position on the ground.

 But just as he was about to leave your side, you stopped him by grasping at the fabric of his dark-blue sweatpants by his knees. He was still sweaty from the apparent dance practice that he had been doing in the studio just before he came home. “No- I- I’m too nauseous to eat anything right now.” You mumbled, voice cracking a little bit from the pain that was solidly rooted in your throat. Your cheeks were so hot, it felt like you had gotten a sunburn while laying out on the beach, when in reality- you had been lying around your apartment all day, not even catching a single glimpse of the sun through the hazy January clouds outside. 

 “Okay, well, maybe you can take the medicine later when you feel a little better,” Minho said. He was squatting down at your side then, brushing back your hair from your forehead. “Just rest on the couch here while I put the groceries away, and then we can go to bed.” 

 You nodded in understanding, too tired to say anything else as he kissed your hot cheek and finally pulled away from your side.

 That night turned out to be absolutely horrendous. 

 You tossed and turned throughout it, not being able to get comfortable. The cold washcloths had done little to help bring your fever down, and the throat lozenges that Minho had gotten for you at the grocery store earlier merely coated your throat in this weird aftertaste that left you coughing for half of the night. 

 Not to mention the headache. 

 Which had turned into a full-blown migraine. 

 The ache wrapped around your entire head, and it felt like someone had your skull in a vice-like grip, squeezing and squeezing the very life out of it. 

 Your boyfriend, who stayed up with you for the entirety of the night, was a literal fucking saint. He made trips into the bathroom every hour to dampen your washcloths with cold water again and regularly made you tea to try and help relieve your throat. 

 “Min- baby- you need to stop helping me now,” you whispered through the daze of tiredness. Because if you were drained, you couldn’t imagine how your boyfriend had to feel - what with having worked for the better half of sixteen hours that day. “You have so much on your plate right now, I can’t expect you to stay up all night just because I’m feeling like shit.” 

 “S’okay, I’m not sleepy…” But the way his quiet voice drifted off at the end of his words proved differently to you. 

 You turned on your side in bed, catching a glimpse of your boyfriend’s slumped form through the faint moonlight that shined through the bedroom window’s curtains. His shoulders were hunched over, his head hanging low, as he massaged languid circles into the palm of your closest hand. 

 “Yes, you are. Now, go to sleep.” You said firmly, pushing on his shoulders so that his head hit his pillow. 

 At your forceful movement, his eyes shot open. “I can’t leave you like this- baby, you’re in so much fucking pain right now. I-I feel horrible that I can’t help you more.” He said, his tone desperate. He threaded his fingers through yours then, squeezing a little desperately, trying to convey how strongly he felt about staying up with you and helping you practically survive the night. 

 “I know babe, I know…” You pushed away a few locks of his dark, chestnut-brown hair that had fallen in front of his face, giving him a soft smile. “But you need to sleep now, okay? That’s how you can help me feel better- by going to bed. I’ll be fine, so don’t worry about me.” 

 Minho was silent for a few beats, as you stared into each other's eyes. You were both incredibly stubborn when you wanted to be, but on this topic- you wouldn’t budge. He couldn’t jeopardize his packed schedule while also letting the boys down just because you weren’t feeling well. 

 “Alright,” he finally surrendered in a defeated-sounding voice. “But, you’ll wake me up if anything happens, right?” 

 “Of course.” You leaned down into him and gave the crown of his head a soft kiss. “Love you, Min.” 

 “Love you too…” He said, his eyes already closed. And just like that, you watched his face relax, body melting into the soft downy mattress, as he finally drifted off to sleep. 

 And hopefully, you’d soon join him in blissful sleep as well. 

 Turns out that you didn’t get a wink of shut-eye that night, tossing and turning underneath your thin sheet - you had thrown off the thick duvet coverlet that had been laid on top of you early on in the night. A thick coating of sweat covered your entire body, even with the cold washcloths still placed on you. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, had been out like a light. 

 In your sleepless, frail daze, you hadn’t managed to catch him as he left for work early the next morning. But as soon as your eyes opened, your head throbbed from the bright light flooding through your bedroom’s curtains, and a strong wave of nausea overtook you. 

 You shot from your bed and barely made it to the bathroom. You leaned over the toilet bowl and hurled up the little contents that were left inside of you. The only thing you had eaten the day before was the rice porridge that Minho had made for you in the morning and two strawberry-mango-flavoured popsicles to try and ease your throat. 

 It still hurt like hell, and your head was pounding from your migraine. When you leaned back from the toilet, a loud groan escaped past your lips from the distress that you were in. You sat there on the cold, tiled bathroom floor for a few minutes, just taking in deep breaths and trying to persuade yourself to get up when all you felt like doing was tipping over and passing out from exhaustion. 

 In the end, you managed to get up from the hard ground and brush your teeth before making your way back to your nightstand, where you had glimpsed a small piece of paper placed just atop your latest pick from your local library. The nightstand’s clock read just half-past ten o’clock in the morning. 

 You probably didn’t get much sleep last night. Try to take a nap sometime today when you can. 

 You need to eat something, but, if you’re too nauseous, at least drink lots of water. There’s some Pocari Sweat in the fridge, so drink plenty of that. 

 And please, try to take some ibuprofen if you can. It will help bring down your fever. Checked it before I left, temp is now at 102.8. It should’ve broken in the night.  

 Call/text me whenever you want to, I’ll be available all day and will be home even earlier than yesterday. 

Love you, Minho XX

 Even through your confused state of pain and weariness, a smile graced your lips at your boyfriend’s thoughtfulness. Since you rarely got sick, it was uncommon for you to experience this exact side of him. It was a whole kind of new Lee Minho, and to be honest, you quite liked it. And although the doting could be a little excessive and suffocating, it was the thought that counted, right? 

 Somehow, you found enough energy inside of you to get up from your comfy bed and into the shower. The hot water felt amazing on your skin, and did wonders for your bad migraine. You stood under the spout for at least twenty minutes - maybe even more than that. And when you were too tired to keep standing, you sat down on the cold tile of the stall. The steam that the scalding water emitted all around you also helped to calm your inflamed throat down, and you basked in the comforting feeling for quite a while. 

 It was only after you stepped out of the shower, legs slightly wobbly, that you realized your mistake. 

 You had a fucking fever, for God’s sake- 

 It should’ve been very obvious to you- 

 Not to take a scalding hot shower for that long. 

 Even still, there was no turning back. And almost immediately, you felt the repercussions of your actions. As you wrapped a fluffy white towel around your body and grabbed for the blow dryer, you suddenly felt very lightheaded. 

 And not the kind of lightheaded that you would sometimes get if you stood up from a sitting position too quickly. 

 No, this kind of lightheadedness was the kind where you felt like you were about to fucking pass out. 

 Just then, you realized how hot your entire body felt. You thought that it had been bad before- but nothing compared to the sheer heat that radiated off of your body. 

 With a racing heart and shaking limbs, you slowly shuffled out of the bathroom, clutching onto the wall for support. Your vision was going in and out, turning so blurry that you could barely see in front of you. 

 You fumbled around your nightstand for your phone, and with quaking fingers, you dialed Minho’s number as fast as you could. You were standing just beside your bed, legs feeling like they were about to give out on you. You were so weary and confused and felt like you were about to fall over, so half of what you were doing didn’t even make sense to you. But you knew that you had to get ahold of your boyfriend- in that scary moment, that was the most important thing to you. 

 The phone rang once, 

 Twice, 

 Three times. 

 Please, just fucking pick up- 

 Please don’t be in a meeting or at practice or- 

 “Baby? I’m so glad you called, how are you-” His gentle, serene voice rang out across your phone’s speaker that was pressed to your ear. 

 You let out a sob of relief, the tears finally flowing down your cheeks. “M-Min, I-I can’t-“ It was hard for you to speak over the dizziness and confusion. 

 “Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” Minho’s voice immediately turned frantic at your mumblings. 

 “S-So dizzy- got out of the shower and- and gonna pass out- help me, Min, please-” It felt like your knees were about to buckle just then, but Minho’s voice cut through your heated stupor. 

 “Lie down right now, baby. You close to the bed?” 

 “Y-yeah-”

 “Lie down, completely stretch out your body. Can you do that for me?” 

 You said nothing more, shifting towards your bed and collapsing on top of it with a tiny gasp of exhaustion. “I-I’m on it-”

 “I’m leaving the company right now,” Minho’s exclamation broke through your daze of fatigue. 

 “W-What? Baby- no, don’t- you have an important recording today and-”

 “To hell with the schedule!” He was suddenly shouting through the phone, making you pull it away from your ear from the loudness. It only made your headache worse. When he heard your whimper of pain, he began speaking again but in a quieter voice. “I’m sorry for yelling, baby- it’s just that, the company can’t expect me to go to work when the fucking love of my life is about to pass out from the flu that she has.” His voice was much calmer this time and helped to soothe your racing heart a little bit. Your limbs were still shaking though, your vision going in and out. 

 There was silence on both your ends, as your slow mind processed his words. You heard shuffling on his line and muffled voices. Then he was talking to someone - it sounded like Chan - their whispers were hard to hear over the static of the phone. 

 “Baby?” Minho’s voice cut through your tiredness. You opened your eyes weakly, trying to focus your attention on the painting that hung on the wall just beside your flatscreen tv. It was of a single, pink tulip positioned in a grassy field. The piece was something that Hyunjin had gifted you for your birthday in the past year. “I want you to stay on the phone with me until I get home, okay? Just keep talking to me - about anything - just don’t close your eyes, alright?” 

 His instructions seemed like absolute torture to you right then, because all you wanted to do was close your eyes and let go - let your mind drift off into wonderland for even a few blissful seconds. “I’ll try,” you started, voice quiet as you nuzzled into the bed’s thick duvet that was still messed up from the night before. You hadn’t found the energy to make it yet. “I-I threw up this morning.” 

 “Oh, darling- I’m so sorry I wasn’t there… but, I’ll be there soon, yeah? I’ll take care of you, so don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” His tone was laced with concern, and a tiny smile spread across your lips at how attentive he was being toward you. 

 The entire thirty-minute commute that he took every day from your apartment to the company, you stayed on the line with your boyfriend, talking about whatever came to your mind. You were still nauseous, so food was never brought up, mainly just the changing weather and what you wanted to do that weekend since he’d have a break from schedules that Saturday, which was quite a rare occurrence for him. 

 Laying down on the bed had helped your dizziness somewhat, but every time you shifted just a little bit, your vision would go blurry again. It was annoying as fuck, to add yet another symptom to your myriad of other problems. 

 “I’m pulling up to the apartment right now, so I’ll hang up. Wait for me, baby.” Minho finally said after what felt like an eternity of him traveling home from the company. You mumbled an incoherent ‘yes’ before he hung up the call. 

 True to your promise, you kept your eyes open, laying as still as a statue on the bed. You were back to studying Hyunjin’s flower painting just as you heard the front door’s keypad being used. A breath of relief left you as shuffling echoed throughout the one-bedroom apartment, and in no time at all, there your boyfriend was- rushing into your bedroom with a wild look in his eyes and flushed cheeks, his dark brows furrowed.  

 “Kitten-“ he breathed out in a sight of relief at the sight of your still-awake form, “C’mere.” He dropped his backpack on the floor next to the door before he was bounding towards you. In one swift movement, he was lifting you off the bed, taking you up into his arms, and cradling your head against his chest as he sat back down on the bed’s plush mattress. 

 The tears started again almost as soon as he had you in his arms. Your sobs wracked through your body, as he brushed soothing fingers through your hair. You knew that crying would only make your migraine worse, but you couldn’t give a flying fuck about anything just then. You were just so happy to see your boyfriend, after such a disastrous morning. 

 “Y-You came back for me,” you sniffled after a long bout of silence that was filled with only your cries. You pulled away from his chest, looking up at him through blurry vision. “I-I was so scared, Min.”

 Minho swiped his thumbs underneath your eyes, gently catching your falling tears with the pads of his soft fingers. “Of course I did, baby. I love you… and it kills me to see you this way. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to help you.” 

 “Just glad you’re here now,” you whispered, clutching onto his waist a little harder. “I’ll feel better now with just your presence alone… but, how long are you staying for?” 

 He tucked a few strands of your still-sopping wet hair behind your ear. In your dizziness, you hadn’t found the time to dry it yet. “Not leaving you again, darling. The company gave me the day off, Chan helped me persuade them.” 

 “B-But you’re gonna miss such an important day of schedules and-”

 Your boyfriend shushed you with a slender finger to your lips. “It’s already done now, Y/N. So let’s just focus on helping you feel better, alright? By firstly, getting you dressed.” 

 You looked down and realized that you were still only clad in your soaked towel. “Wow, I didn’t even realize I was still in this…” Your voice trailed off, as Minho placed you back down on the bed and made for your walk-in closet. 

 “Is it a sweatpants and hoodie kinda day again?” He asked as he poked his head into the closet. 

 “A-Actually, I’m too hot to wear anything thick,” you managed to stutter out, perched at the edge of the bed. And soon enough, your loving, doting boyfriend emerged from the closet with a pair of soft, black cotton shorts and a thin, maroon-colored camisole. 

 “Will this do?” He questioned, holding up the items for you to inspect them from across the room.

 Wordlessly, you nodded your approval. And soon enough, he was shifting his way toward you. In no time at all, he had helped slip the shorts up your bare legs, the loose waistband resting gently against your hips. Then, he guided the camisole over your head, gently pulling the thin spaghetti straps over your shoulders. 

 “All good?” Leaning forward, he tucked a piece of your wet hair that had fallen into the front of your face behind your ear. 

 “Mhm- but my hair’s still wet from the shower,” you mumbled, staring up into his dark pupils that were dancing with a myriad of emotions - but especially, concern. “Carry me?” You asked, reaching out your arms to him, supple and waiting, like a small baby that wanted to be carried by someone they trusted. 

 “Always, kitten.” He whispered, just as he pulled you up into his hold. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he charged for the bathroom. And soon, you were sitting atop the granite counter, as he ran his fingers through your hair. 

 The blow dryer was loud in your ears, and the heat from it only seemed to raise your temperature even more. You still had your legs wound around Minho’s torso as he worked with nimble fingers to dry your hair. You tipped your head towards his hand every time he ran a brush through your locks. 

 When he was finished, he pressed a palm against your forehead for what felt like the millionth time that day. “You’re still burning up, baby…” His voice trailed off, as he leaned across the counter, grabbing a stray hair bobble. He pulled your hair away from your face and fitted it into a loose ponytail at the back of your head. Immediately upon the feeling of your thick locks being out of your face, a content sigh of relief escaped past your lips. “I really need you to take that ibuprofen, honey.” A deep frown bloomed across his lips, turning his mouth downwards in a displeased kind of way. 

 “My migraine isn’t as bad as it was earlier, so I think I can choke something down now.” You said. Your eyes were still closed, as you breathed in the familiar scent - of warm, dark roasted coffee and cinnamon sticks - of your boyfriend. 

 And in no time at all, he had you seated on the living room couch, your eyes trailing over the food that he prepared for lunch. There was a bowl of the porridge that he had made the day before, a piece of plain, white buttered toast, and a yellowed banana. Not to mention the medicine set off to the side with a tall glass of water. 

 “Eat, baby.” Your boyfriend took hold of the tray that the food was on and positioned it on your lap. 

 He was sitting beside you on the couch, gaze locked on your form with a certain kind of intensity that would make you anxious if you didn’t know him so well. The intensity he had was only borne out of concern. He so desperately wanted you to get better, that’s all. 

 “Thank you, Min… it looks delicious.” You pecked his cheek gently, watching as a soft smile cracked across his lips before you delved into the lunch. 

 You had to admit, the food was exceptionally good. The porridge helped to alleviate your throat, and the bread filled your stomach comfortably. You hadn’t realized how hungry you had truly been until you started eating. But halfway through the meal, you stopped when you noticed how your boyfriend hadn’t moved from his spot of watching you. 

 “Aren’t you going to join me?” You asked, motioning towards your spoon that was laden with porridge. 

 He shook his head slowly, “Want to take care of you first, that’s all.” 

 You gave him a deep frown. “Min, you're already taking care of me. Just making this meal is enough for me.” 

 “I know, but I wasn’t here earlier- don’t want to take my eyes off you for even a second, in case something happens.” 

 “I’m not going to pass out, baby. I’m fine now. So please, eat some lunch, yeah?” 

 “You still have the flu, Y/N. Just because you haven’t passed out yet doesn’t mean you won’t in the future,” Minho crossed his arms in front of his chest, canting his head to the side, eyes trailing on your red-cheeked face. “And I want to be sure I’m here to catch you if that happens.” 

 “Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence…” You grumbled softly, turning your attention back to your cooling porridge. There was no use fighting him on the matter anyway. He was a stubborn mule when he wanted to be, and apparently, Minho would run himself ragged before he ever looked away from you again. 

 It was only after you had finished your lunch, and had downed four ibuprofen pills and a glass of water with it, that Minho finally got up from the couch to put your dishes away and make something for himself. He rounded the couch a few minutes later, pressing a cold washcloth against your head. The sudden coolness surprised you, and you slightly sat up from your laying position on the couch to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend. 

 Minho took a seat at the end of the couch, near your feet, a plate of food in his hands. For his meal, he was having a rather bland-looking sandwich, with a green apple sliced thin set off to the side. 

 “That’s all you’re having to eat?” You raised an eyebrow at him, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at him. 

 His gaze was already on you even before you met his stare, as he bit into his sandwich. “Don’t pass judgment on my habits when you hadn’t eaten anything until just now.” 

 “But I’m the one who’s sick here…” You protested, shaking your head in disapproval at the lack of food on his plate. He was a growing guy, always in the gym, always straining his body for work. He needed to eat enough to fuel himself properly. Changbin was always harping about such things to the boys, but especially, your boyfriend. Since, as Changbin put it, ‘he never seems to get enough macros in for his height and weight range.’ Whatever the hell that meant. 

 To that, Minho said nothing, merely biting into his sandwich once more. His silence only made you more agitated with him, and that, coupled with your slightly-pounding migraine and your drowsiness only helped to add fuel to the fire. 

 “I”m worried about you, Min… you need to eat more if you want-”

 “You’re worried?” He suddenly let out a dry, humorless scoff. And instantly, you recognized his tone. In the blink of an eye, his entire demeanor shifted. It changed from the intensity he had from caring for you, to the intensity that he always got whenever he was worked up. Whenever he was worked up about you, and your safety. “I’m the one who’s fucking worried here, Y/N!” He practically burst out in a loud voice, throwing his plate down on the nearby coffee table in his sudden exclamation. 

 “Minho-” You began in a soft voice but you were quickly cut off by his raising voice once more. 

 “Do you have any fucking idea how scary it was to get a call from you this morning and have you practically fighting for your very life to not pass out right then and there?” He ran a few frantic fingers through his hair, clutching at the roots, slightly bending over, and resting his elbows against his knees. “Because damn it- I was practically shaking from all the worry. And then I come home and find you literally naked and sopping wet and crying and-” Just then, his voice cracked, his words fading off into the distance. 

 And in the next beat, you were moving. Towards him, so that you were right up in his personal space. You took hold of one of his hands, pulling it away from tugging at his locks of brown hair. Squeezing your fingers between his own, you pressed a soft kiss to the top of his hand. 

 “Baby, I’m so sorry… it’s my fault that everything became such a big mess. I didn’t have to take such a long, hot shower.” You admitted, giving his skin another kiss. 

 Minho pulled his head up just then, as it had dropped between his hunched shoulders in his distress. His eyes slid over to yours instantly. “Don’t apologize, none of this is your fault. You were only trying to relieve your symptoms, I get it.” He held onto your hand a little tighter, like in that moment, he needed to be grounded in the reality of you. That you were still there with him, still living and breathing, albeit tired as hell and ill to the bone. But still, there nonetheless. “And please, just... don’t leave me, okay? I can’t lose you, baby… I can’t…” His voice became a tiny whisper at the end of his words, misery flashing across his face, radiating deep in the way that his eyes softened at the sight of you, his brows creasing with the tears that he could never seem to shed. 

 “Min, I have the flu… not the damn plague.” You laughed, lips grazing his hand again as you placed another peck against his skin. “And of course, I’m not going to leave you.” 

 “Good, because I’m never going to leave you either.” And suddenly, he was taking hold of you, pulling you onto his lap and burrowing his face into the crook of your exposed neck. He blew raspberry kisses against your heated skin, making you burst out into a fit of giggles. You kicked your feet up into the air, trying to escape him as his nimble fingers tickled you at your sides. 

 And all at once, just for a few minutes, he helped you forget about everything - about your sickness, the discomfort, and the fatigue. All of it. Helping by kissing away the swarthy thoughts and tension-filled temples. 

 Later that day, your fever finally broke. The medicine seemed to kick in just in time and helped to completely take away your headache. Your throat still felt dry and scratchy, but continually downing warm cups of tea was slowly helping that. You and Minho spent the day lounging around the apartment, watching random reality shows that were playing on the tv, and indulging in a whole pint of chocolate ice cream an hour before bed. 

 But despite having all that sugar and caffeine right before laying down, you found that sleep threatened to take over you as soon as your head hit the pillow. 

 “Will you go in to work tomorrow?” You asked, laying on your side and facing your boyfriend as he sprawled out in the bed just a little ways away from you. 

 “I don’t know… I hope not.” 

 “The boys will need you, baby. I think you should.” 

 After all, he was an integral part of the team. He couldn’t simply disappear from Stray Kids for even a few days and not have them feel the lasting effects of his absence. 

 “Let’s not worry about that and just focus on going to bed, okay?” He reached out to you, clutching onto your hip and pulling you towards him. 

 When your forehead was comfortably rested against his bare, muscled chest, you peered up at him with a faint smile pulling at your lips. “Thanks for taking care of me today, honey. I don’t deserve you…” 

 He pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead, his voice rumbling with sleep as he spoke, “I’ll do anything for you, kitten. And of course, you deserve me- I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.” 

 Without another word said between the two of you, you closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. Your boyfriend's comforting scent washed over you, seeming to soothe a tender spot inside of you, and all at once, you were falling fast and hard into a deep slumber. 

 The first thing you noticed when you awoke the following morning was that for once in what felt like an eternity, the blinding morning light shining through the bedroom curtains didn’t automatically make you feel like shit. Instead, it helped to place a content feeling deep inside your heart. 

 And the second thing that you noticed when you awoke the following morning was the fact that your boyfriend was still in bed. 

 He had both arms wrapped around your waist, and when you dragged away from his chest, a muffled groan fled from his slightly-parted lips. 

 With a glance at your nearby clock, you noticed how it was well past the time that he usually got up for work. 

 Minho cracked an eye open from the shifting of your figure, a lazy smirk blooming across his mouth at the sight of your eyebrows raising on your forehead in surprise. “Guess I won’t be going in to work after all…” He said, voice husky with sleep. 

 You squirmed in his arms until you were loose enough to get a good look at him. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and suddenly, you thought that perhaps the huskiness of his voice wasn’t just from sleep. “Why are you staying home today? I thought you said you were going to go into the office.” 

 Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, that same smirk was still on his face. “The sore throat woke me up in the middle of the night.” 

 A loud groan bubbled up and out of you, as you scrubbed a frustrated hand across your face. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” 

 “Hey- well, at least you’re feeling somewhat better now… that way, you can take care of me when I nearly pass out after a hot shower.” 

 With that, you shoved at his shoulder gently, sending a glare his way. “This isn’t funny, Min. You shouldn’t have gotten so close to me- shouldn’t have kissed me! Now you can’t go to work for God knows how long because of this stupid flu!” 

 He waved a noncommittal hand in the air, batting away your worries like he didn’t have seven other boys who depended on him, like he didn’t have a whole company counting on his work, like he didn’t have millions of worldwide fans anticipating his presence. “Eh- to hell with it all, I was bored with work anyway. And besides, I cannot ever stop myself from kissing you, baby. At this point, I’m pretty sure it’s hardwired into my brain as a daily need to function.” He gave you a playful wink, and you rolled your eyes exasperatingly. 

 “You're so stupid,” you grumbled, hating the idea of seeing him go through the same pain you went through. You had survived the worst of it already, but you wouldn’t wish it on anyone - not even your worst enemy. “Well, you better promise that you won’t be a pain in my ass and actually accept my help when you need it.” 

 He shook his head noncommittally, “I shall make no such promises.” You felt a hand clutch at one of your sides, just as he was pulling you against his warm body once more. “Now, c’mere and give me a kiss.” 

 You smiled against his mouth, melting into his hold as he pressed kiss after soft kiss to your lips. 

 Because even though now you were both sick, 

 At least you had each other. 

 And at the end of the day, that’s all that mattered…

 That Minho had you, and you had him. 

 So even despite feeling like a literal ball of hot, steamy garbage baking in the summer heat, 

 You felt like, at that moment, you could whether anything in life - any storm coming your way, any curve ball thrown at you, any toxic person coming into your path, 

 Just as long as you had him by your side. 

 As long as you had Lee Minho, your beautiful, loving, eccentric, doting boyfriend, you’d be just fine. 

 Fin.

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© ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

[gretagerwigsmuse]

and even when we’re wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay (part 1.5/2)

Summary: in which bradley is getting honored with an award and his girlfriend tries to be there for him…even though her feelings towards the navy are complicated to say the least

OR you take on the pacific fleet’s awards gala

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader

A/N: listen…even spunky, smart aleck girlfriends get down sometimes! so this little snippet is literally just angst (sorry!). but our favorite slutty couple will be back at it (literally) in all their depraved glory soon enough in part 2. takes place 6 months after Part 1. i wasn’t originally planning on showing anything from our best girl’s pov, but lord she needed to get this one out 😭 thanks to sol for all the encouragement and help on this one! (2.5k)

would it be enough if i could never give you peace?

After you and Bradley finished watching another episode of some HBO show you were both obsessed with, the two of you dragged yourselves off the couch to clean up the kitchen before you headed off to bed. Naturally, you had argued in favor of cleaning the kitchen before decompressing with two episodes worth of this year’s favorite Sunday night drama, but Bradley had other plans and you’d made it about thirty seconds into the initial cleanup before he had streaked some excess flour across your cheek, teasing you by licking it off.

“There’s no way raw flour tastes that good,” you’d let out between your giggles, but he was relentless.

“Must just be you then…”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down towards you for a kiss while he backed you up against the kitchen island. He bunched up your pencil skirt that you hadn’t yet changed out of after work and slid his knee between your legs. 

“Okay, fine, fine,” you said breathlessly, “we can clean up later…” 

Once you’d finally made it into the living room, you had to restart the episode three times before he managed to keep his hands to himself for longer than thirty seconds. Not that you’d really tried that hard to stop him. 

But now, you were both a little tired and a little messy as you’d cleaned up the dishes from the homemade pasta you two had made. You’d gotten the recipe from your favorite food influencer - this unbelievably cool girl around your age who was based out of LA - and had been on Bradley to try it for weeks. While you had originally planned to make dinner at your apartment - a far too impersonal two bedroom high rise in the Gaslamp Quarter near Petco Park - you didn’t have a pasta maker attachment for your Kitchen Aid mixer - yet for some reason Bradley did. He had looked so pleased as he’d unearthed it from one of the upper kitchen cabinets, still in the box, a wedding gift he’d forgotten to give someone ages ago.

Ever the team, you had made the sauce while Bradley had made the pasta, humming along to music as you both worked in tandem. He had given a rousing performance of Hall & Oates’ Rich Girl, dancing around the kitchen with you as he professed the song always reminded him of you whenever he heard it - in a good way, I promise! - he had been sure to clarify. You chose to take it as a compliment.

The food had been delicious, along with the wine you had picked up after work. The only downside was that homemade pasta unfortunately made for a lot of dishes and cleanup. While Bradley was putting the last of the assorted mixing bowls and plates in the dishwasher, you grabbed the carton of eggs and the wine off the island to put back in the refrigerator when something caught your eye as you closed the door.

…invited…October 15th…

“What’s this?” 

You slipped the thick card stock invitation off Bradley’s fridge, a teasing smile on your face. It was wedged behind a picture of Bradley and his parents, an old save-the-date from a wedding last spring, and a picture of Bradley and Pete, as you knew him, from last fall. You caught a glimpse at the words Pacific Fleet…awards gala…Hotel del Coronado…October 15th -

“- Bradley, this is next weekend?”

“Is it?” He leaned over your shoulder to read the invitation.

“Yeah, next Saturday.” You kept reading, a smile lighting up your face as you noticed his name on the invitation. “No way! It says you’re getting an award, too? Bradley, that’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Bradley shrugged and avoided eye contact. “It didn’t seem - important, I guess?”

He was getting an award. Bradley, your boyfriend, was getting an award along with two others in the entire Pacific Fleet. And he hadn’t even told you. Why?

“It sounds pretty important…” Sadness quickly crossed over your face as realization dawned. “Wait, you - do you not want me to come? Is that why you didn’t mention it?” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could think better of it. 

“No, no, I - I just - I just didn’t know if it was something you’d want to do? Like it’s a Navy thing and I didn’t think you’d want to go -”

“- Oh.” You glanced down and shrunk in on yourself. Oh. You were right - he didn’t want you there. Probably didn’t want you there to embarrass him. Worried about what you might say - and to who. 

You suddenly remember how awkward you had felt the first time Bradley had come home from a longer deployment. He had been on the detail for the Speaker of the House’s visit to Taiwan, on stand-by should naval air support be needed. It was for ten days, nothing major. But you had been on edge the entire time, not helped by the fact that the visit was so public and renowned that it was all over the news. You’d set up push notifications for practically every newspaper - one from the Economist had practically given you an anxiety attack - and had taken to working longer hours when he was gone, pushing yourself to the limit to think about something, anything other than the fact that you hadn’t told your boyfriend of five months that you were in love with him yet. 

And what if you never got the chance?

But then the call came in - he was coming home. You’d quickly called Natasha, who hadn’t been chosen for the mission due to a prior commitment, and asked if you were supposed to meet Bradley down at the base after. You’d never gone before, didn’t even know which gate to go through. But Natasha just laughed you off, telling you how to get there, where to park, and the best spot to stand to ensure Bradley would see you right away.

And so maybe it had been the nerves or reading obsessively about the Speaker’s visit, but you had gotten chatty as you were waiting with all the other families and loved ones. You didn’t know how it happened really, one minute you were telling the man next to you that you were waiting for your boyfriend and the next you were ranting about the EEZ, advanced microchip exports, the futility of the US government’s One China policy, and the big dick exercise that were Chinese military drills in the Taiwan Strait. 

The man had been a retired Rear Admiral who was waiting for his son. His son, who flew with Bradley as you found out when the two of them came up to you both. Amidst all your hugging and kissing and welcome home speech, the retired Rear Admiral had patted Bradley on the back and said that one’s got quite the mouth on her. Neither of you knew quite what to say. With the mood effectively killed, you didn’t even say I love you to Bradley as you originally had planned. 

Instead, you’d merely blurted it out as he was making you coffee the next morning. He’d just smiled and said I love you, too - like it was so obvious that you were ever in any doubt and that he even needed to say it. Soon, the mean old Rear Admiral’s comments were long forgotten as you showed Bradley (again) all the different ways you had missed him while he had been away - protecting the free world and all that jazz.

Until now.

You swallowed, hoping your voice didn’t sound too thick. “I mean, my boyfriend’s getting an award, seems like kind of a big deal - but it’s cool. I can - I can always see what the girls are up to that night, maybe see that new -”

That was a lie. You knew you’d just hang out at your apartment all night - alone. 

“- Sweetheart - ” 

You shook your head and stepped out of his arms, leaving the invitation on the kitchen island. “It’s okay, really. I think I’m - I’m just gonna shower and get ready for bed. I have that early meeting tomorrow morning, so…”

It wasn’t even ten yet, but Bradley didn’t push it. “Oh. Yeah, I’ll just finish cleaning up then?”

You pulled him down for a kiss, which was far too brief for either of your liking and dashed out of the kitchen and to his bedroom before he could notice the tears forming in your eyes. You shut the door behind you, squeezing your eyes shut as a few wayward tears trickled down your face. God, you were not a girl who cried easily. 

(Lies, you just didn’t let anyone see you.)

As you absentmindedly grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt for bed, you whipped out your phone, searching the event and pouring over the official website, looking at pictures from years past, and marveling at how fancy everything looked. You closed the bathroom door behind you and sat on the toilet lid while you waited for the shower to heat up. Scrolling further down the page, while you noticed that the aggressively patriotic decor was a bit much for you, contrary to popular belief, you did understand how important Bradley’s job was. And you understood what it meant for him and his career to be presented with an award at something like this. It wasn’t quite a Medal of Honor or anything like that, but it was still important. It would still mean something. 

Something to Bradley. Which meant something to you.

You hopped into the shower, a little dazed, realizing that you were now crying in earnest. You started shampooing and conditioning your hair on autopilot, going over what happened in the kitchen. Were you making too big of a deal out of this? No - it was completely valid for you to be upset. Especially with how different things had been between you both lately. 

The bottle of face wash you were using almost slipped out of your hands as you realized something. Natasha had asked you last week - early last week - if you had anyone you could set her up with for an event? You hadn’t thought much of the event, itself, just that Natasha - one of the coolest girls you had ever met - had wanted you to set her up with someone, someone from outside the Navy. That she had trusted you enough to do this. 

This was the same event. 

The same event that Bradley had to have known about for over a week now, that plus-ones were clearly invited to, that Natasha had assumed you’d be invited to attend. You leaned your forehead against the shower wall.

Why didn’t Bradley want you to come with him? Was he going with someone else? Someone who - no. 

No, no, no. He would never do that. You couldn’t believe the thought had even crossed your mind. Bradley loved you. Bradley wanted to be with you. Bradley put up with all your neurosis and your late hours at the office and made you cum so hard you occasionally cried and held you in his arms all night. 

Bradley loved you.

(Didn’t he? He’d said he did.)

Maybe you just wanted Bradley to love you like you loved him - openly and without restraint or abandon. You wanted him to love the you that he had first met. The strong, confident girl at the bar, who wasn’t afraid to call him out on his shit. Not the one who was so scared her boyfriend was going to break up with her that she had taken to savoring every last kiss, touch, and I love you between the two of you because you just knew it was going to end. He was going to end things. 

You knew you weren’t like all the other girlfriends and wives and partners. You wanted to be someone he didn’t have to second guess about bringing to Navy events or even after work drinks at the Hard Deck. Baring Natasha, you had only met Bradley’s friends twice - via a dinner party at his place and then out for drinks once in San Diego proper. You had originally thought that that was an accident, but now you weren’t so sure.

You didn’t want Bradley to have to choose between you and the Navy. You would never ask him to do that and what was worse, he would never make you feel like you had to or that he resented you for it. 

Bradley loved you.

(Didn’t he? He had told you a couple weeks ago.)

So, why hadn’t he asked you to go to this awards gala with him? Why didn’t he want you? 

You put your face directly underneath the shower head, hoping the water would make your face less puffy. You had always been an ugly crier - always one to let your emotions drive your actions. You thought that was one of the things Bradley liked about you - your strong convictions - but maybe he had changed? Maybe he didn’t want that anymore? Maybe he wanted someone he wasn’t embarrassed about? Was he always wondering if you’d say a snarky comment to the wrong person? He probably got teased about it at work. 

That one’s got quite the mouth on her.

You heard the sound of the bathroom door opening and Bradley’s footfalls on the tile a few seconds later. For the first time since you had started dating, you desperately hoped he wouldn’t join you in the shower. He’d take one look at you, your puffy, red rimmed eyes, and turn the other way. But luckily, he simply called out:

“You okay in there?”

You squeezed your eyes shut and hoped your voice wasn’t too choked. “Yeah, fine. My uhh - my shoulder just hurts. Wanted to keep it under the hot water for a bit.” Your shoulder had never bothered you in your life. 

You practically held your breath as you waited for Bradley to respond from behind the shower curtain. “Okay. Well, I’m just gonna brush my teeth…”

“Okay, I’ll be out in a few.”

You didn’t move the entire time he was brushing his teeth and even for the few moments after he’d left the bathroom. Fuck. You had to get it together. This was getting pathetic. With one last wipe of your eyes, you turned off the water and dried yourself off a bit before stepping out of the shower. 

Bradley had moved your clothes from the vanity to the hooks right by the shower so you didn’t have to tiptoe across the room, tracking water along the way. The silly and inconsequential, but still stupidly thoughtful, action made your heart clench. Then, you went through your nightly routine almost on autopilot, putting on your pajamas, brushing your teeth and hair, doing your skincare routine, all while trying not to cry again.

Eventually, when you saw that Bradley had turned off the lights in the bedroom, you left your bathroom sanctuary and made your way across the other room, crawling into bed beside him. You burrowed your face in his chest, clinging onto him desperately as if you could will him to love you more. 

Neither of you said anything, you just laid there, holding each other, his hand slowly rubbing your back, until you eventually drifted off into an uneasy sleep, the steady beat of his heart reminding you that he was still there with you. 

At least for now.

[Part 1] [Part 2.1]

taglist: i added a couple people who mentioned they wanted a part 2 to the taglist, but def didn’t add everyone, so if you’d like to be added let me know!

@sunderlust​ @seasonsbloom​ @ticklish-leafy-plant​ @ponyboys-sunsets​ @lass-that-is-gone​ @2fabul0us4​ @daniellef89x​ @double-j @bradshawswife @thedarkinmansfield​ @sithbelova​ @edensbuttercups​ @mavencalorers​ @m-1234​ @fav-rooster-fics @thebeautifullydamnedone​ @unordinare​ @callsign-valley​ @pricklepearbloom​ @browneyedboys​ @cloudederin​ @cherrycola27​ @whatblogisthis216​ @agentofkrypton​ @kyliesalvatore​ @jocsrecs​ @noellreadfiction​ @coyotesamachado​ @heartsofminds​ @notroosterbradshaw​

[frvnkcastles]

IN A LONELY LOOP ➸ F. CASTLE

Summary: After a long day at work, you snap at Frank, and neither of you really know how to go about it.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, nothing major I think?

Word count: 1.2k

Author’s note: This one is based on a request I got, I hope I did it justice <3 I’m working on some other ones right now but it’s been a really bad week for me so it might take me a little bit to get something new out. Thank you for the support everyone :)

The door slammed shut behind you louder than you had intended, but as the aggressive clap echoed throughout your apartment, Frank jolted up from the couch where he had dozed off. His eyes darted around before landing on you, and at the welcome sight, he relaxed with a sigh, a hand ran through his hair as he caught his breath.

”Sorry”, you murmured before moving to remove your jacket and shoes. There was a reason behind putting your whole weight into shutting the door — it had been the longest day ever at work and every part of your body seemed to ache, but more than that, your mind was at its breaking point and all you wanted to do was curl up in your bed for the rest of the night.

”Don’t worry ’bout it, sweetheart”, Frank reassured, surprising you by being by the kitchen counter when you turned around. It wasn’t like your apartment was a massive space, but he never ceased to catch your breath with his silent movements. ”Made ya some food. Figured you’d be hungry by the time you get home”, he shrugged, as if it was no big deal. Any other day, you would have found his antics endearing, but today, you didn’t have it in you to praise him the way you usually did.

You nodded and dropped your keys on the kitchen counter, not missing the way Frank’s hand twitched towards yours, but you only realized when you had already pulled back. ”I’ll eat later. I’m not really hungry right now”, you swallowed before hesitating, ”but thank you, Frank.”

He repeated your nod, quietly watching you and you could tell. It wasn’t a surprise — you weren’t exactly being your usual self, and Frank could read you like an open book. Alarm bells were going off in his head at that very moment, and you were just too damn drained to talk about it at all.

”You okay?” he asked eventually, his eyebrows knitted together as he observed you. You bowed your head and sucked in a breath, wondering what answer would be satisfactory enough to promise him he didn’t need to worry.

But he always did, anyway.

”It’s fine. Just a long day at work”, you replied with a weak smile, the kind that Frank didn’t believe for a second. You rested your elbows on the counter and dropped your head in your hands for a moment, taking deep breaths and feeling the tensions of the day slowly leave your shoulders.

”Sure, baby? You know I gotchu, right?” he pointed out, and giving him a knowing look, you tried to put some more effort into your smile.

”I know. I’m just… I’m gonna take a shower”, you decided before pushing yourself off of the counter and heading towards the bedroom, only for Frank to grab your wrist and stop you.

”Hey—”, he began, but you didn’t let him finish.

”Would you stop? I said I’m fine”, you snapped, the anger bubbling up your chest before you could rein it in, venom in each word as you directed a glare at Frank.

A glare that, within seconds, softened into an apologetic, even horrified look. In fact, dread and regret washed over you like a tidal wave, drowning you as you opened your mouth only for nothing to come out. You could see the genuine surprise in Frank’s eyes, and you glanced away in the fear that it would turn into hurt if you looked in any deeper.

His hold on your wrist dropped and he lifted his hands in his own defense, but still, he didn’t falter from your side. ”Aight, ’m sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to push”, he apologized, licking his lips while clearly calculating the situation, you could see it in the narrowing of his eyes and the clench of his jaw. He didn’t seem to be angry, though — you couldn’t say the same for yourself. How could you lash out at him like that?

You wanted to tell him he didn’t need to be sorry, but sure you would only make things worse by speaking a single word, you turned on your heel and escaped into the bedroom, leaving behind a very puzzled and worried Frank. You had never snapped at him like that; in fact, most times, you needed him to push a little so you would open up to him.

As soon as you made it to the shower and under the pour of the water, you burst into tears. You tried to be quiet, but Frank heard you, anyway, and his heart split in two at the sound of you weeping. He sat on the edge of the bed, his leg bouncing up and down as he waited for you, unsure if he was doing the right thing or if he should have left you alone. He respected privacy and peace — he needed those things badly, too, but he had been so sure the two of you had found a pace that worked so well for you both. Now, you seemed to be stumbling.

You hid in the bathroom for longer than you cared to admit, but eventually, you stepped out, still wrapped in a towel and with guilt all over your face. Frank thought you looked like a kicked puppy, and he wanted nothing more than to hold you, but instead, the first thing he did was ask.

”Okay if I stay here with you? I can go to the couch if you want me to”, he promised, his dark eyes soft as he looked over to you, even when you shyed away from his gaze and ducked your head down.

”Please, stay with me”, you whispered, and nodding, Frank promised as much. ”I’m really sorry, Frankie. I—I didn’t mean to… You didn’t deserve that”, you continued, and with a chuckle, he shrugged.

”I shoulda taken the hint, sweetheart. You don’t gotta apologize, I just… wanna know what I oughta do next time. I know sometimes you want me to ask, right?” he queried, reaching for your hand, and this time, you jumped at the opportunity to be touched. You took his hand and squeezed gently, comforted by the warmth and size that enveloped your fingers.

”I do. I don’t know. I—I don’t know how to communicate whether or not I want you to ask”, you struggled, and with a reassuring nod, Frank pulled you in closer so he could lift his hands to your hips and keep you there, his knees on either side of you.

”Would you like a safeword or somethin’? You can, uh, you can tell me stop if you don’t want me pryin’. Until then, I just wanna make sure you’re alright, y’know?” he explained, and with a genuine smile blooming on your lips, you nodded.

”I like that. And I know. I appreciate you worrying about me, baby”, you promised before leaning down to press a kiss onto his forehead. He made a pleased sound and squeezed your hips, making you grin against his skin.

”So, stop or nah? Wanna tell me what happened today?” he asked carefully, and with a hesitant swallow, you thought about it.

”Yeah, I’d like to talk about it. Okay if I get changed first and we cuddle while I tell you?” you suggested, and with a grin of his own, Frank reached up to give your lips a gentle kiss.

”Nothin’ I’d like better, darlin’.”

[kodiackwrites]

B&B bulking cod men pt 2!

Konig, Soap & Ghost- pretty much filler but ending is important to plot

—-

The conversation with Konig was over as soon as it started as another door opened at out Soap came, Smiling as he picked up his tray, “Thank you las” he said as he walked right back into his room, As did Konig. Ghost however didn’t make a noise, just took the tray, and disappeared into his room.

Hours later the men would fill the common room, telling stories, the odd laugh and chuckle and funny arguments filled the building. Making you let out a small laugh as you mixed the pot that sat in the oven, watching the timer finish for the steaks in the oven.

You made quick work of organizing all three lunch plates, Half a steak, Half a salmon, some handmade mashed potatoes, with some greens on the side. You grabbed a large tray from under the sink and placed the plates onto each, With a tall glass of milk, and adding salt & pepper shakers onto the tray.

Soap was the first to notice your entrance to the common room, “whatcha got there lassie?” He asked, trying to see the tray, Making Ghost & Konig turn over as you placed the tray on the large table.

They all looked confused, turning to face you. “I figured I’d make you all lunch, I apologize if im over stepping, I just realized you hadn’t eaten yet and it’s getting a bit late for lunch.” You explained, gesturing to the clock that read 2:46.

“Thank you.” Ghost mumbled as he took his pick of the plates, shaking some salt and pepper over it. The rest of the men followed with thank you’s.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled as you returned to the kitchen, cleaning the pots and pans you used to cook, Hearing the sound of cutlery scrapping at tapping against plates as then men silently ate.

Konig came in first, holding the tray covered in empty dishes, you thanked him and reached for the top plate, “non sense, you made us a meal the least I could do is the dishes, if that’s okay?” He asked kindly. “Go right ahead, just please leave them in the drying rack when you’re done.”

—

It has been nearly a week since the men had joined you, meaning they’d only be here for another. But the pattern of making them big breakfasts and lunch didn’t end. Due to them spending more time in the house instead of their usual leaving at 8:30 Am and coming home at 6, you’d grown closer to them, more so to Soap then the other too, but Konig would volunteer to help you clean up, and Ghost would silently do his share.

“What made you want to run a b&b? Isn’t it a bit dangerous in this area?” Ghost spoke up one evening after finishing his dinner, His voice was rough but he still had a British accent, the question caught you off guard, at first it was just for the money but you just never looked back once things started too run well. “I suppose it was just a quick way to get money when I first opened up, the house was rundown and too large for just me so I worked on it and got my permit.” You explained, “I guess it just worked out, I mean you guys are here every few months and there’s really no need to tip as much as you do.” You explained, “It’s a nice place, it’s the least we could do.” Konig chimed in, and Soap made a noise of agreement. “I suppose, It’s never what I wanted to do but hey, whatever makes the money.” You explained. “Perhaps you should join the military, the food you makes fuckin’ amazing. We could always use another cook.” Soap said with a chuckle, “Johnny don’t even try that.” Ghost grumbled angry in response, “I’m just saying, we could always use some better food at base and I’m sure this would suffice.” The scott argued back, “Alright enough, we’re not recruiting an innocent individual to cook for us.” Konig cut them off.

You thought for a moment, “I wouldn’t mind,” the men looked at you like deer in headlights. “That’s not just something you can decide on spot mate.” Ghost spoke up, Giving you a few minutes to think, he wasn’t wrong at all. But what would you be leaving behind? A few friends you barely speak too, a dead beat town? “True, but there’s not much going for me here other than this place.” You explain, “But I understand it’s not as easy as just volunteering and off I go.” Konig returned his attention to his plate, “I mean, if your records clean they might take you, got any professional cooking experience?” Soap asked, “I was a line cook for a few years, took hospitality and foods courses in college.”

Soap shrugged, “worth a shot if you really wanted to commit to it, you’d get slot more money then you would running this place, no offense.” He spoke, “it’s not the money that matters Soap”. Ghost argued again. “Sir- Ghost? I assure you I understand the risks of being involved in the military even as such an unimportant role.” You defended.

—

So here you are, a week after the conversation, sat with Soap finalizing your recruitment application. “So all the files are together?” He asked, you anxiously nodded as you handled him over the folder filled with all of your information. “Great lassie, I’ll be seeing ye soon then, thank you for letting us stay again.” He said with a nod and out the door he went, Following after Ghost and Konig.

[reysdriver]

Could I ask for a Steve Harrington x Reader, a story based off best friend by Rex Orange County. Friends to lovers, Steve's pov, toothrotting fluff? I've had this stuck on my mind for a while, but I'm not that great of a writer. I really enjoy your work too.

You hang out with your best friend Steve after a bad date — best friend!steve x fem!reader fluff

warnings: nothing :)

words: 0.7k

a/n: I'm not sure if this is what you want but I tried my best to include little references to the song so I hope you like it!

All night, Steve has been watching the phone in his kitchen. He made sure to sit on the recliner instead of the couch, just in case you called and he needed to answer quickly. 

Steve would never admit it to you, but he secretly hoped your date went badly so that you could come over, complain, and spend more time with him. Of course he didn’t want the guy to be really bad, but the sweet spot was just bad enough that you never went on another date with the loser and hopefully you chose to spend that time with your best friend instead. 

So when he heard the phone ring in the other room, Steve ran over to answer it as quickly as possible. 

“Casa Harrington.” He answered the phone, then held his breath wishing it was you on the other line. 

“Hey, Stevie.” You answered much to his relief. “We just finished with dinner, so he offered to drive me home and I was wondering if you’d want to come by in like ten minutes or so?”

“He seems like a gentleman; are you sure you don’t want to keep the date going with him?”

You laughed at your best friend on the other line from the payphone you were calling from. “No, Steve. He’s nice and all, I just don’t think we really click. He’s also waiting for me by his car so I think you should answer me because I don’t want to keep him waiting or else he might drive off without me.”

“I would come pick you up if he left you stranded. I’d drive anywhere you needed.”

“Okay, but I don’t need you to drive anywhere, I need you to answer my original question.”

“Nah.”

Your smile dropped at his response. “No?”

“I’ll pick you up from your house and we can go over to mine. Your place is severely lacking in the snack department.”

That was relieving. You were scared you would have to spend the evening after a boring date all alone. 

“Alright, it’s a plan. Bye, Steve.”

“Bye. Tell him to drive safe and get my girl home in one piece!”

The line went dead before you could hear the whole thing, but what you did hear brought a smile back to your face anyway.

The car ride home was awkward and silent, save for the fuzzy radio station your date had on the entire time. The wave you gave him while getting out of his car was maybe even more awkward. Luckily, your knight in shining armour was standing outside of his car parked on the street in front of your yard. 

You practically skipped over to Steve and he opened the passenger side door for you. 

“So he wasn’t all you dreamed he would be?” He asked you. 

With a shake of your head, you got in the car and responded to his rhetorical question. “Nope. I guess I just keep forgetting how boring most guys are. Not you though, of course not.”

“Well, obviously I couldn’t be boring. I have a pool at my house and my parents are never home. We can stay out all night and swim, maybe drink a few beers while you tell me all about how happy you are that I’m here to hang out with you after a bad date.”

“That sounds lovely, Harrington.” You giggled, playing with the dials on his car radio—something he only let you do. “See, this is why every date I’ve been on lately has been so boring and underwhelming.”

“And why’s that?” Steve asked, half-cocky and half-confused. 

“Because my favourite boy has brought my standards all the way up. I’ll never be able to find someone as good as you.”

Steve bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying what he really wanted to say. That you should just date, and put an end to his unrequited crush—the one that you felt as well, he just didn’t know that—because he’d treat you right and you both know it. 

Instead, he chose for the more subtle choice, and made a promise to really ask you out another time. 

“I know you’ll find someone as good as me if you look hard enough.”

[yournaothings]

***Please be aware; there is violence and mentions of death in this chapter. After all, it's the Murder Time Trio.***

Yo! Here comes another chapter!  Reader, you have a nickname. Also, remember! These murderous skellies are based off of CJ_Does_VA's Killer, BlankSceneVA's Dust, Anger_Is_Flawed's Horror, and CallmeSlate's Nightmare.

With that being said, please be aware of the original creators of these characters. I forgot to mention them in the first chapter, whoops.

Killer Sans: Rahafwabas Dust Sans: Ask-Dusttale Horror Sans: Sour-Apple-Studios Nightmare Sans: Jokublog

->

After the three murderous skeletons had their laugh, Horror was nice enough to help the human back up onto their feet. "Hehe, that looked like it hurt! Here, let me just-" He reached closer with a hand towel he had grabbed from the counter and helped clean the blood off of their face. The human's face contorted in pain as Horror wiped away the blood, their face sore from hitting the tiled floor so hard. "Thanks, Horror." They sighed once he was finished. "I appreciate it." 

"It's no problem, heh." Horror tossed the now dirtied hand towel behind him, landing on top of Dust's head. The bloody part of the towel slapped him in the face, while the rest rested on top of the hood that covered his skull. "Ugh! Horror! What the fuck!" Horror hummed as he turned to see why Dust was so upset, only to laugh at Dust. "Hah! That's hilarious!" Dust glared at Horror as he tossed the towel aside. "I'm going to kill you." Horror tipped his head towards Dust while pointing at him with a wide grin. "You can try, buuut~ You won't be able to." 

The human laughed softly while the two bickered back and forth, their hand raising to hide their smile. Killer chose that moment to steal his human's guest's attention away from the others.  "So, now that that's over with! I never asked! What's your name, human?" 

"Oh," The human smiled at Killer, easily forgetting that he had just been holding his knife way too close to their face several minutes ago.  They introduced themselves.  "It's nice to finally meet you, Killer. Regardless of how it all started, I'm very excited to be here." Killer's grin widened, giving off such a mischievous look.  "It's nice to meet you too, toots. But, I think the name Angel is much better for you." He grinned at them. "Anyway! Like I said before, be aware of your surroundings and you'll be juuuust fine. Or not. You can never know when it comes to me~"   Despite the warning yet again, they smiled.  "What did you have planned for the day anyway? Anything in particular?"  "I'm glad you asked!" Killer grinned at them gleefully, before grabbing their hand and started to drag them out of the kitchen and towards the back door. Angel eagerly followed, hoping whatever Killer had planned was going to be exciting! 

The other two skeletons finally stopped arguing with each other as soon as Killer left the kitchen. "He's going to kill them." Dust states as he and Horror watch Killer drag the human guest out of the house and to the backyard. "Yeah, probably." Horror hummed. He turned to glance down at Dust then to the back door before deciding to follow after their chaotic skeleton buddy. Dust sighs from exhaustion, before he too followed after the others. 

Killer placed Angel in front of a tree that clearly has been used as target practice with very sharp objects. "I really don't think this is a good idea, Killer." Angel said, feeling themselves sweat nervously and giving Killer a fearful look. "Ah, you'll be fine~! I never miss~" 

Angel fidgeted in place while they waited for Killer to prepare. Killer grinned mischievously, spinning his knife around expertly. He turned around to adjust his camera, grinning to his audience. "Are you guys ready to see something great?"  Just as Killer turned around and prepared to throw his knife, Nightmare wrapped his tentacle around Killer and lifted him off of his feet before he could do anything harmful. 

"What are you idiots doing now?" Nightmare asked, annoyed with Killer. He glanced back at the human-  "Oh, I forgot about you." He turned fully towards the human, frowning.  "Really, boss?" Killer asked as he spun his knife around and stabbed it into Nightmare's tentacle. Nightmare's expression shifted from annoyance to an irritated glare and he tossed Killer back towards the house and out of frame from his audience. Killer screamed as he flew and crashed into the porch; Horror and Dust finally stepped out of the house. There was silence for a good solid minute before Dust leaned over, pointing and laughing at Killer's pain.  

"You fucking idiots." Nightmare sighed heavily in annoyance. He pinched his nasal ridge, his one eye socket closing as he felt a headache coming on. "I don't know why I still keep you three." At the sound of the human's snickering, Nightmare straightened his posture and shot them a glare, making them press their lips into a thin line and straighten up. He could see the grin they were trying to hide, as well as feel the bit of fear they had. 

"I never get tired of watching Nightmare toss you around like a ragdoll." Dust said as he started to calm down from his laughing fit.  "That was pretty funny."  "What did you do this time, Killer to make Nightmare throw you?"  Dust asked, all three clearly ignoring Nightmare, who remained in place.  "Well, he popped in right before I got to show off my nice knife skills to Angel and the audience. I may have stabbed him a little too hard~" Killer grinned excitedly; he wasn't fazed by Nightmare tossing him. 

"You idiot." Dust huffed out, before returning to his usual calm and volatile self. "Heh-" Horror snickered before turning his attention to his boss. "Oh, uh, hey there, boss!" Nightmare sighs, rolling his cyan eye light. "Get the fuck over here, idiots." 

Angel leaned against the tree while Dust and Horror made their way closer, Horror moving to check on them. Angel smiled reassuringly up to Horror. All the while, Killer struggled to get himself unstuck from the outdoor furniture he got trapped under. 

Killer dusted himself off before teleporting over to stand beside his boss.  "So, what's going on, boss? I thought you were busy with work?"  Nightmare glared haphazardly at Killer, then Dust. "Come on, you're a part of this now, too~" Horror told Angel, as he placed a hand on the back of their neck and firmly nudged them towards Dust's side- Killer was on Dust's other side. Nightmare remained in front of the four.  

"I have a mission for you all. One of my conquered AU's is being overtaken by my brother and his stupid Stars. I need you three to go and cause more chaos and negativity." Killer pulls out his knife and spins it expertly while giggling with excitement.  "I'm game~"  Dust shrugged; "Sure." Horror grins and summons his axe.  "Sounds like fun~!" Nightmare relaxes his tense shoulders, before gesturing towards the human.  "Take the human with you." Killer grins and salutes his boss. "You got it, boss!" 

Nightmare rolls his singular eye light before telling them which AU they were going to, before melting into a puddle of goo and disappearing. Killer giggles as he teleports beside Angel and wraps an arm around their shoulders.  "You're gonna love this! Oh!" Killer perks up and turns to his discarded camera. He walks over and picks it back up, booping his audience.  "Heheh~ don't worry, everyone. I'm bringing you along, too~" 

"Which AU are we going to, anyway?" Angel asks, smiling; however, it didn't quite reach their eyes. They were a little worried. Actually, worry didn't begin to cover how they felt. They were afraid. What if they got hurt? What if the three murderous skeletons left them behind? They fully expected to go home after their time with the Murder Time Trio. 

"It's another Classic AU, but the humans made it a game to hunt and kill monsters." Killer explained, grinning. "If Dream and his Star boys have been meddling in that universe, then the humans and monsters may have found peace. Which means, we get to kill whoever we want and blame it on the opposite side!" Killer laughs as he spins his knife once more, before finally pocketing it and preparing to teleport to the AU with his team.  

Horror pulls Angel close, his larger arm wrapped around them, as Killer gripped their hand, his other hand gripped Dust's hand. Dust shot Killer with a small glare, before he took Horror's other hand. "Let's get this over with." Dust huffs. "Aw~ Don't sound too excited, Dust~" Killer snickers. Dust stares straight ahead- right at Angel and grins.  "Try not to get yourself killed, human. I suggest you find a hiding spot until we've finished." Angel tensed, their heart racing within their chest; this was a really bad idea. "I'll do my best to stay alive. Don't leave me behind, though, okay?"  Dust grins underneath his hood, yet his two colored eye lights glowing ominously.  "No promises~" 

---

There was a heavy atmosphere of negativity that seemed to be slowly lifting away and being replaced by what Angel would describe as positive energy. 

"Ugh, you can definitely feel Dream's magic here." Killer grouses as he watches the mayor speaking to the group of humans and monsters just ahead of them. The young human ambassador was making a speech with the King and Queen of the underground; they were indeed making a truce. A deal of peace. 

Thanks to the strange trio of stars, both humans and monsters have seen eye to eye and wished to bring this unnecessary war to an end. 

Yuck. 

"Alright, boys." Killer grins, his liquid hate dripping much faster from his eye sockets. His grin was sharp and dangerous, his eye sockets narrowing in a predatory glare. He was ready to go! "Remember what Nightmare said. We've got to get rid of Dream's positivity." 

"Yeah." Dust nods as he adjusts his scarf around his neck.  "It's about time to gain more LV." He glances back at Angel, notices how they grew even more tense since they arrived.  "Hey, I'm serious. Don't get yourself killed. Find a hiding spot and we'll come find you later." Angel frowned, they kind of wished Nightmare didn't make the trio bring them along.  "Okay." 

"Actually," Killer interjects as he continues to watch the ambassador, the king and the queen on the stage.  "I've got a little job for you."  Horror and Dust turned to look at Killer, curious as to what he had in mind.  "Break up their little meeting, you can do whatever you'd like. Make them scared, so they can start scattering like frightened sheep." 

Angel looked surprised, then uneasy. "Um, are you sure, Killer? What if something bad happens." Killer glances at Angel, his grin sharpening. "Don't worry, Angel~ We've got your back~ I know you'll do great out there." "Heh, yeah! We won't let any of these losers hurt you. All ya gots ta do is scare the crowd. We'll do the rest." Horror explains to Angel, his own grin wide and dangerous. Angel stood before the three skeletons as they stood at the ready for the attack. 

They knew these skeletons were murderers. They knew this, yet they followed Killer's streams and other servers. During the streams, Killer was a lot of fun to interact with, to watch and play games with. It was so easy to forget that he was a, well... Killer. Now, standing before him and his teammates, the reality settled in. Today should have been a fun day hanging out with the Murder Time Trio. They were supposed to go on fun trips, or play video games! Not... Not this. 

Killer isn't asking for you to kill anyone.But, he wants me to be a part of this mission. Which will lead to so many individuals' deaths. Would you rather run and hide, or show the three skeletons that you're up for the task? You're brave, after all, right?Right... I.. I can do this. They said that they wouldn't let anyone hurt me. Right, I can do this.

Closing their eyes and taking a deep breath in, Angel prepared themselves for their simple task of scaring the crowd. The rest would be up to the murderous skeletons.  Angel exhaled and opened their eyes, nodding to the three. "Okay, I'll do it." 

Killer's grin widened, his grip on his knives tightening.  "I know you'll do great!" He encouraged them, then gave his signature laughter.  Angel couldn't stop the grin that lifted their lips. His laughter was contagious, and surprisingly helped calm their anxious nerves. Turning towards the crowd, Angel breathed in deeply once more, held it for a few seconds before releasing it.  I just have to scare the crowd, then go find a safe place to wait out the rest of the mission. With their task in mind, Angel hurried towards the crowd. 

"They're something else, eheh." Horror chuckled, his grip on his axe tightening as he readied for the attack. "You shouldn't have included them." Dust said to Killer, the hooded skeleton's gaze remained on their human guest  before looking at the crowd- specifically on one individual.  "They're going to get hurt."  "Aw," Killer's usual gruff voice was mixed with bloodlust. He was going to let his audience watch him and the boys in action, but there would be too much going on that would trigger his viewers. He may be a murderous monster, but he was careful with those he enjoyed having around; therefore he wished to protect them if he could.. Sorry, audience. There won't be any cool fight scenes this time. 

"From this day forward, there will no longer be any more violence between mankind and monsters-" "It's a lie! While the ambassador, king and queen were speaking, they had monsters set out to kill innocent humans!" Angel shouted, startling the crowd and upsetting the King and Queen.  "What-? That's not possible. Everyone is here-" "Then why did the monsters try to grab and kill me?!" Angel pointed to their still sore face, (how did they not start to bruise from their fall this morning?)  "They're on their way here! I managed to escape them to warn you!" 

"There are no monsters attacking humans! If you're just trying to start something-" The Undyne of the AU stepped forward, trying to stop the panic before it caused chaos.  

"Oh no!" 

"I see them! They're here!"

"Liars!" 

The humans began to scatter like startled mice escaping their predator. Many humans shoved monsters out of the way, some even started to fight the monsters. The humans didn't play fair, either. Attacking the weaker monsters, while others didn't mind attacking the stronger ones. 

The Queen called out to everyone, trying to get everyone under control again, but it was already too late. She gasped when she saw a monster jump into the frightened crowd, knife raised high above his head and landed on top of a monster. A blast of magic caught her attention, followed by painful and horrified screams. The Queen covered her mouth with her furry paws, her soul aching with dread and sadness as she watched not only the monsters, but the humans be slaughtered by these strange monsters. The bodyguards and security were quick to usher the King, Queen, and Ambassador off the stage and to a private black in color vehicle. However, before they could climb into the vehicle, a large and heavy axe came crashing down onto it, destroying the front end of the vehicle. Another monster stood before them with his dangerous and predatory grin.  "Heh, no one's leaving, 'm afraid." 

Chaos flared around the stage. No one bothered the retreating human as they hurried to a safer place and waited for the boys to finish. Honestly, Angel didn't really want to watch. As much as they enjoyed watching the boys playing their violent video games, Angel wasn't one for a front row seat to real violence. In fact, they could feel their heart racing with anxiety. They had to get to a safe place, where they could calm down and not think about what their favorite streamers were doing. 

They didn't get very far when a familiar skeleton cut off their pathway to an empty shop. Angel struggled to stop before they ran into the skeleton. "Oh shit!"  "heh, you're right. oh shit is right." This AU's Sans wasn't happy at all. Instead of going after Killer, Dust, or Horror, this Sans came after them.  "got a question for ya, kid. you wanna have a bad time?" Angel tensed, but stood their ground. They straightened up their posture after having almost run right into Sans. They knew there was no lying their way out of this. It was Sans, after all. Hell, even if they told him the truth, Sans would still try to fight them. They were sure of it. 

"I'd rather not have a bad time- Shouldn't you be trying to help your monster friends?" Angel asked, yet was shocked when Sans didn't get angry with them, or at least more than what he already was with them.  "shouldn't you be helping your monster friends? where exactly did you four come from? i knew it wasn't a good idea to let those others stay."  "You mean Dream and the Star Sans'?" As soon as they said it, they regretted it. Stupid! Why did you say that?! Sans narrowed his eye sockets, his grin tightening with uneasy and distrust.  "you know them? are they a part of your team as well?" Angel thought about this for a moment, thoughts whizzing through their head as they thought their options over.  

"I know of them, but I've never met them before. Dream is not on their team-" Angel started to explain. Sans cut them off, immediately.  "whose team are you on? and don't think about lying to me, kid. i'll know if you are or not."  Angel felt nervous, but they would be okay. The boys said they'd keep them out of harm's way. They just needed to get away from Sans, or at least distract him.  

Killer's cackling echoed from the stage. Screams were heard, kids crying, and yelling as some humans and monsters fought against the Murder Time Trio.  Angel turned to watch them. They left the young children alone, but killed the parents. Angel's heart squeezed in heartache for the children.  The Ambassador would probably reset again, and judging by Sans' skull dripping with sweat, he didn't want that. Just thinking about it was making Angel regret their decision to help. This AU was finally getting to a happier chapter, and the Murder Trio swept in to tear away that peace. And worse of all, Angel had helped them with it.

Sans noticed the hesitation in Angel, the guilt and regret were written clearly on their expression. This AU's version of Sans was quick to summon a bone attack, aiming it right at Angel. An attack that was meant to strike down the enemy was wasted when Angel snapped out of their thoughts and dodged the sharpened bone. They stumbled on their feet and paused to look at Sans in shock, before they provided themselves a quick getaway;  "I wouldn't waste my time with me. You better go check on your brother, instead." 

This didn't help them in the least. Sans pretended to be relaxed, and unbothered at the idea of his brother being hurt. His grin grew tight from this intense situation. His eye lights were only white dots within his darkened eye sockets.  "my brother can take care of himself, kid. you should worry about yourself instead."  With this being said, Sans pulled Angel into an encounter. They hadn't thought about this happening, what if they weren't able to run away? What if Sans actually hurt them or worse? Angel took a deep breath, willing themselves to relax. 

"I don't want to fight you." Angel said, refusing to fight and instead tried to reason with him. Sans chuckles once it was his turn and attacks them again.  "sorry pal, i don't see eye to eye with you." He says, closing his right eye socket, while his left eye light ignited with his magic. Angel was able to dodge most of the bones sent their way, but got nicked in the arm a few times. Hissing in pain, Angel took a moment before they made their next move. Again, they refused to fight.  

"Please, just let me go, Sans. I don't want to fight you. Go protect your brother and everyone." Angel told him. Sans' grin tightened, his eye sockets narrowed. "i never told you my name, kid." Angel froze, their eyes widening once he pointed out their mistake. Shit.  Sans prepared his attack and sent a cascade of bones at them. This attack was harder to dodge, but Angel did their best to avoid getting too severely injured. They received several cuts, most were shallow. They knew they were going to be bruised up badly. One bone shot up from the ground and pierced through their left calf, tearing through skin and muscle. Angel cried out in pain as they fell to their knees once the bones disappeared. 

Angel had a hard time catching their breath, the pain made it hard for Angel to focus on Sans. It was their turn now... They raised their head, shaking from the pain, and looked Sans directly in his eye lights with a look of determination.  "I'm not going to fight you, Sans." 

"jeez, kid." Sans chuckled, sweat dripping from his skull, unnerved by the stubbornness and determination this human had. "what's your deal, kid?" He chose to not fight this round, unsure if that was the right decision or not. Angel sighed and finally was able to spare Sans. "I wasn't lying when I told you that I didn't want to fight." Sans stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, feeling uneasy about letting the human go.  "I just don't understand you, kid." Sans sighs as his shoulders drop from the tension before walking over to the human and reaching out a skeletal hand to help them up. 

"Hey." 

Sans and the human jolted at the dark and murderous voice and looked over to see Dust standing nearby with his Gaster Blaster preparing for an attack.  "Don't touch them." Angel bit back a scream, afraid that they'd be hit by Dust's attack. However, Sans had teleported away, only for Dust to already be two steps ahead of him. His Gaster Blaster shot the energy beam, decimating this AU's version of himself. 

"Oh shit, Angel!" Killer was suddenly beside them, helping them to stand up.  "That's a nasty wound there." The human released a heavy sigh, letting the tension fall from their shoulders.  "It hurts like hell." They were still bleeding, but they were glad to see that Sans had missed hitting an artery. "Oh man, little one." Horror grumbles as he finally joins the two skeletons. He gave them a worried look, from their injured body to their contorted painful expression. "You alright? Lookin' pretty beat up there."  The human nods.  "You can say that again.. But, I think I'm alright. I just need to be taken to a hospital-" 

"We can't do that, Angel. Thankfully! We have Cross! He knows a little about healing humans. Come on, let's get you back to the house." Killer said and gestured for Horror to pick them up. They yelped when they weren't quite prepared to be moved so suddenly, but relaxed in Horror's arms. "Don't worry, little one! I'll be gentle with ya. Good ole Cross will take care of you when we get back." Angel peered over his shoulder to see piles of dust and humans laying around. "You're all finished..?" They asked, feeling a little sick to their stomach.  "Yeah," Dust responded first, his gaze fixed on the pile of dust from this AU's Sans, before turning to look at the human.  "Sorry for not getting here sooner."  The human slowly blinked before offering Dust a smile.  "Don't worry, Dust. You made it over just in time. Thank you." Dust hummed as he looked away.  

"Okay, seriously guys. Let's get our human home." Killer said, as he prepared for all of them to teleport home. He squeezed Dust's hand a little too tightly, letting Dust know that he was upset that the human was still showing favoritism towards Dust rather than Killer.  Dust glanced over at Killer and grinned slyly.  "They still like me better."  "Ugh! Shut the fuck up, Dust!" Killer snarled as they teleported out of the AU. 

---

"What did you guys do to them?" Cross asked, sounding exasperated as he looked over the human's injuries. They sat on the counter yet again, where Cross carefully looked at the injuries.  "Dude! They fought a Sans, and won!" Killer exclaimed with his usual excitement.  "Can you fucking believe it?! This amazing human fought another version of us and won!" He grins at Angel, nudging their side.  Angel jolted from the bit of pain that came from his elbow pressing against their sore side. Yet, they laughed softly and felt their face flush from receiving such praise.  "I actually thought I was going to die." "But, you didn't!" Killer's voice raised as he hyped them up. He suddenly turned towards his camera, his audience finally back to see the aftermath of the mission.  "Did you hear that?! Angel fought against a Sans and won!" 

Cross simply ignored Killer's excitable energetic self while he carefully rolled up the human's pant leg to get a better look at their wound.  "This doesn't look too bad, but we do need to clean it. I don't think the Boss has anything for that, so I'll go grab some supplies from the store." He glanced up at the human, looking perfectly serious, just how he always did.  "Stay put, I'll be back." Angel nodded and blinked a few times when Cross suddenly disappeared from sight. 

Killer was busy talking to his audience, explaining to them how the mission went and the aftermath of his human's fight with that AU's Sans. Horror was busy cooking up some food, claiming that the monster magic will help with Angel's healing. Dust was already sprawled out on one of the sofas and snoring. Angel heard a noise and glanced over to see Nightmare slipping out of the shadows of the hallway and walked into the kitchen, his expression contorted to one of disgust.  

"What the hell happened to the human?"

"Boss, Boss!" Killer spun around so quickly, Angel wondered if he gave himself whiplash. Did skeletons get whiplash? Hm, I wonder.  "Angel fought a Sans and they won!"  "Who the fuck is Angel?" Nightmare sneered, glaring at the energetic Killer.  "Silly! It's our human here!" Nightmare's gaze left Killer to look at Angel.  "Oh, uh. Good job." Nightmare pat their head, before noticing the nasty wound on their leg.  "Why are you letting them bleed out in my kitchen?" Killer chuckled before turning to grab another towel to lay under Angel's leg. "This isn't really your kitchen, boss. Remember? It's CJ's." Nightmare sent a half-hearted glare to the annoying skeleton.  "I don't care, you're allowing blood to containment the area where we cook." He then glanced over at Horror and narrowed his eye socket at him. "I'm surprised you're not getting upset with Killer for this." 

"Hmm~ Huh? Oh, yeah. It's not sanitary to have blood near the food- but, it's okay, Night. We'll clean everything up!" Horror said before going back to humming while he finished up the little snack he was making for everyone. "Oh! Annnd~ Here we go!" He used his magic to summon the plates and silverware, placing the food on each plate before sending them to Killer, Angel, and Dust. Killer caught his plate, his food shifting a little from the impact. Angel gently took their plate and thanked Horror with a smile. Dust's plate fell on top of his face, smashing against him before falling onto the floor and spilling all of the food. Dust snorted and sat up, looking around. "Who the fuck did that?!" He snarled, angry that he was awoken from his nap. "Aw, Dusty Rusty Mus-" Horror began to say, pouting a little from his delicious food being wasted.  "Finish that fucking name and I'll murder you." Dust threatened, his eye sockets narrowing as his eye lights went out. 

Horror only laughed and took that as a challenge, his good eye socket narrowing as well.  "Dusty Rusty Musty Poo~" Dust off the sofa in a split second, his Gaster Blaster summoned and ready to blast Horror away.  Nightmare sighed in annoyance and sent his tentacles to grab Dust and pull him away. "No fighting in the house!" Dust sputtered as he freed an arm and pointed accusingly at Horror, who stood in place, giggling and happily chewing on his food. "Horror started it! What the fuck!" "Yeah? Well, I'm going to finish it!" Nightmare raised his voice, threateningly. Dust sputtered a moment longer before giving up and fell limp in Nightmare's hold. Pleased with this, Nightmare dropped Dust onto the floor, where Dust just laid and pulled his hood over his head even more. A clear message to not mess with him any longer. 

"Okay," Cross appeared again, his arms full of human bandages and cleaning liquids. He dumped them on the counter beside the human.  "Just so you know, this is going to hurt." Cross warned Angel, before he acknowledged Nightmare. "Oh, hi, Boss."  "You didn't tell me you were back." Nightmare grumbled and crossed his arms.  Cross frowned and tried to hide his face in his scarf.  "I forgot..." Nightmare sighed as he pinched his nasal ridge. "Ugh, just don't let it happen again." Cross nodded as he got busy cleaning the human's wound. "Yes sir." 

Cross began to work on cleaning around the wound before carefully cleaning the wound itself. Angel hissed from the pain, but managed to sit still for Cross to finish.  The silly goofball of a skeleton known as Killer provided them with a distraction as he suddenly appeared beside Cross, his chin hovering just above Cross' shoulder.  "What're you doing, Crossy?" Killer asked in his gravelly voice. This surprised Cross, making him almost hurt the human. He glared at Killer before shoving him back.  "I'm taking care of your human. Why did you let them get involved in the mission? What would have happened if they died?"  Killer laughed. "Oh, Crossy~ I knew the human was going to be okay. But, that's not important. What is, is where you have been all morning! I wanna know!" 

Cross leveled a look at Killer from over his shoulder, before going back to fixing up the human's calf.  "Boss gave me a solo mission. It's none of your business." Killer grinned, yet it didn't reach his eyes- in fact, his bone brow twitched from the irritation Cross was causing.  "Aw, come on, Crossy~"  Nightmare's heavy sigh hardly caught Killer's attention, as always; Cross and Angel glanced over at Nightmare, watching him struggle with trying to remain calm from Killer's antics. "I gave him the solo mission because I knew you fuck ups wouldn't be able to complete it!" Nightmare growled, glaring at Killer and Horror- Dust was still on the floor, snoozing.  "Wait, what?" Horror asked, sounding a bit crestfallen. "Hey, that was really mean, Boss!" Killer playfully pouted, moving over to lean closer to Boss. "We didn't fuck up this last mission! We did exactly what you asked!" Angel frowned, their eyebrow raising in curiosity. "Nightmare wanted you to kill everyone?" 

Nightmare glared at Killer, his tentacles whipping from his irritation.  "We didn't kill everyone! Just the nobodies!" Killer explained, grinning at his Boss.  "If I find out that you idiots caused another reset in that AU, I'm killing you." Angel felt bad for saying anything-  "You're not really going to kill them, are you?"  Nightmare turned his glare at Angel. "No." He grumbled.  "I'm just going to beat the crap out of them." "Haha! I knew you cared, Boss!" Killer laughed, before he was suddenly tossed out of the kitchen by one of Nightmare's tentacles. "Whooa!"  

Horror snickered and started to make more food. After all, Dust had wasted his food- even though it was somewhat his fault. Besides! He was still hungry! Oh! And don't forget about the human! They needed enough magic to help that wound and their sore body! 

"There," Cross said as he finished wrapping their wound. He straightened up and offered a small smile to Angel.  "It's not perfect, but you'll be fine." Angel smiled as they finished their snack. "Thanks a lot, Cross! I appreciate it!"  Cross' face glowed from his purple blush, and he mumbled an embarrassed and quiet, "You're welcome." He hesitated for a moment before turning away and leaving to go spend his free time elsewhere. 

"I hope you've had fun, human. It's time for you to go home." Nightmare said as he stepped closer and gave them a small glare. Angel smiled at him, which perplexed him. They should fear him! Or at the very least be uncomfortable around him.  "I suppose I am ready to go home. Thank you for letting me come hang out with your boys. It was a lot of fun, even though I ended up hurt on a few occasions." 

"What?!" Killer was suddenly in the kitchen, pouting at his boss. "Come on, Nightmare! Please, please, please don't send them home, yet!" Nightmare turned to face Killer and frowned at him. "I'm not sending them home; you're going to take them home. Take Horror and Dust with you." Killer perked up, excited to see which AU his favorite human fan lived. "Wait, really?!" He turned to grin at Angel, Horror and Dust having turned their attention towards the human. "Hear that, Angel? We're taking you home! I hope you're ready for me to see where you live! Heheh~ I just might stalk you, too!" He laughed. Angel was excited, yet nervous. They lived with their friend, and they were sure their roommate was home. "I can't wait." Angel said and smiled nervously.

This might end up in a disaster... 

((Note from Author: I just want you all to know that literally half of what happened in this chapter was NOT on my plot list. -crying face-))

[smurphyse]

Sleeping with Monsters | Dark!Bucky Barnes

Smurph’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 11 of Lesser of Two Evils

Warnings: domestic violence, mentions of abuse, choking, subdrop, aftercare

Summary: You spend the rest of the day with Peter, while James goes back to the office. Later, he comes home and takes what's his

Note: This is a dubcon/noncon fic! Heavy violent content and smut will be prevalent. Read at your own risk and mind the warnings at the beginning of each chapter.

You spent a few hours going through the files in the dining room, organizing them based on your own information preferences. It took a while, and no matter how hard you tried to fall into it, Peter lurking behind you kept distracting you.

He didn't speak unless spoken to, watching you with painfully obvious irritation and boredom. His eyes never left you, and because James made you go without underwear you had to be careful about bending over the table. You tried to keep Peter as much in your eyeline as you could, but you wanted to sift through this information as quickly as possible. The faster you found out who killed Jimmy Barnes the faster you could begin a life somewhere else. 

Around noon, you went to the kitchen in search of something to eat. James hadn't made you eat breakfast with him this morning, in a hurry to go to work and do God knows what. Inside the fridge you found a few tupperwares of premade meals with your name on them in bright blue sticky notes. It seemed James thought blue was your favorite color since you'd lied and said it was. At least he believed you. 

You pulled one off the top pile and opened it. It was some sort of beef with mashed potatoes, but far too much for you to eat on your own. Peter made his way to lean against a pillar and cross his arms while he stared at you. You shook the bin at him with a cautious smile. 

"Are you hungry?"

Peter made a face, but he nodded, "Sure."

You popped the bin in the microwave, tapping the counter anxiously to avoid his gaze. He looked far too young to be in this world, and that mean mug he had on his face was definitely not how he normally was. It couldn't be. 

When it dinged, you split it onto two plates, the bigger one for him. You slid it across the counter to him, deciding to use this to learn some things about James and his men. 

"How old are you, Peter?"

He picked up his fork as he sat down at the bar, looking up at you through his lashes. "Twenty five."

"Kinda young to be in the mafia, a bit too old to be babysitting, huh?"

"I grew up in this crew," he muttered. He dug into his plate, shoveling a big bite into his mouth. He didn't wait to swallow to continue, "Mr. Barnes took care of me and my aunt when my parents died."

"I'm sorry they're gone," you said earnestly. 

Peter shrugged, but in a way that told you it bothered him. "I don't really remember them. It's fine."

"If you're like a son to him, why are you babysitting me?" you asked, trying to dig into his nerves a bit. He was young enough he'd likely give something up. 

"I'm more like an annoying little brother."  Peter let out a sigh and pointed his fork at you, "He said you needed to be protected. He didn't say you needed protection from him, though. He give you those bruises?"

You glanced away from his hazels, embarrassed, "I'm used to it."

His shoulders stiffened, and you knew you had him. You could use this, his childishly chivalrous want to protect a young battered woman. 

"He hit you?" Peter asked cautiously, slowly. 

"He does whatever he wants. He's the boss, after all," you replied, shrugging and turning back to the fridge. 

You pulled out a water jug and went about pouring it into a couple glasses, taking your time. You could feel Peter's eyes on your back, likely trailing down to the bruises on your thighs. You let his mind wander, not answering completely and letting him come to his own conclusions. 

When you finished you handed him one of the cups, then tucked into your own meal. Peter didn't say anything else, and neither did you, but his watchful gaze turned to one of empathetic curiosity. 

When you were both done you took his plate in silence, washed everything up and went back to work. 

Steve was on Bucky’s last nerve.

Ever since he picked up the girl and decided to keep her, Steve hadn’t stopped bitching about it. Bucky drove the entire way to Buchanan Inc.’s main headquarters with his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel as Steve talked his ear off.

They made their way up to the main building, into one of the few legitimate offices Bucky had. This office handled all of the IT for his manufacturing business, and Bucky waved at the worker bees at their desks as he walked by. 

His office was on the top floor, surrounded by lawyers and Steve and Sam’s VP offices on the other three quadrants. Divided into four sections on each floor, Bucky’s made up an entire one on itself. His office had its own bathroom, weight section, and closet in case he needed an outfit change. His assistants, Wanda and May, took care of anything he needed, always happy to be where he needed them.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes,” May smiled as he made his way toward her desk. She and Wanda sat just outside his office, always keeping unwanteds out of his way and monitoring his calls. 

“Morning, May,” he grinned back, happy to see her. He always liked May, and she was his father’s assistant before him. Since the business has grown, he hired Wanda to help with May’s workload. In return, May took care of him, so he took care of Peter as he was her nephew. “You got anything for me?”

“Just some mail and transcripts of voicemails. I’ve left those on your desk for review,” she told him, but the way she was watching him told him she wanted something else. He cocked a brow at her and she gave him her most dazzling smile, “I heard Peter’s keeping an eye on a lady friend of yours.”

“It’s time he got some more responsibility,” Bucky told her softly, a bit proud. He liked Peter, and saw the potential the kid had. He mostly worked with Stark and Banner in the lab, but Bucky wanted to eventually push him into a leadership role, a legitimate one so the kid would be set for life. “And don’t worry, where he is, he's completely safe.”

“As long as you think so, I won’t worry, then.” 

“You always worry, May. It’s why I trust you.”

She smirked and nodded, “Thank you, Mr. Barnes. Let me know if you need anything.”

The dark marble floors were a welcome sight after nearly a week away. His Gucci loafers clicked along the floor as he pushed open the large doors to his suite. The executive desk laid before a wall of windows, ornate detailing glimmering in the morning light. 

His happiness at being back at work was quickly shattered by Steve’s nagging in his ear, and Bucky barely had a moment in his pristine leather chair before he began again. 

“What the hell is your deal with this girl, anyway?” he snapped, standing before Bucky’s desk and glaring down at him. “She that good at sucking dick, Buck?”

“Watch your tone, Stevie,” he replied without much bite, instead booting up his laptop to prep for the meetings he had today.

“The real question is; what’s your deal with this girl, Rogers?” Sam piped up, plopping down on the giant couch Bucky had in one corner. He lounged against the back and smirked at Steve when he glared his way next.

“My deal is that you’re giving her too much. She’s not worth all this effort,” Steve told them both with a low growl. “You can find another way to take down the Norns than fucking Loki’s girl.”

“She’s got more insight into his business than even he thinks,” Bucky said pointedly. “She was dating Loki for three and a half years, Steve. The guy loves her, and I know he told her more than she let on.”

“There’s no fuckin’ way-.”

“He does love her. I know he does, and he’ll do anything to get her back, including anything I say.”

“And when he gets her back, she’ll tell him everything she knows about us.”

Bucky chuckled darkly. He leaned on his elbows on the desk, his gloves creaking from the leather as he squeezed them together. “I don’t plan to give her back. She’s worth too much.”

“And you like her,” Steve bit back. “She can’t be that good in the sack, so you have feelings for her.”

“She’s just a toy, Steve,” Bucky sighed. He was growing tired of this conversation. “A toy with knowledge. I’ll get as much use out of her as I can.”

“And when she has nothing else to give but her cunt?” he snarked with a mean grin. “You gonna put a bullet in her head or am I supposed to do that?”

“I fully plan on upholding my deal with the girl,” Bucky snarled, standing sharply from the desk. His chair hit the window with a sharp clatter. “If she can prove Loki or someone else killed my father, then I’ll do what I said. I’ll set her up somewhere safe and give her what I owe her.

“If she doesn’t…” he muttered, cocking his head and staring off into space. “I’ll kill her and Loki myself.”

But he didn’t like the way it felt in his chest.

That seemed to satisfy him for the moment, and Steve let out a little huff before turning away. Sam watched amusedly as he paced back and forth, which was how Steve thought out things when he was stressed. Bucky also couldn’t help but poke that bear.

“You know, she was in the limo when Hela and Thor died.”

Steve turned slowly, his blue eyes blazing. With one arm crossed over his middle, he waved the other one in a rage, “Did she see you? Does she know you did it?”

Bucky shook his head, “She got shot. That scar on her arm is from taking a bullet trying to help them all.”

“How’d she make it out with one bullet wound?” Sam asked with a cocked brow.

“Loki shielded her with his body.”

“So he really does love her,” Steve muttered, mostly to himself. Bucky could see the wheels beginning to turn in his friend’s mind with that knowledge. “What could she have done to earn his trust like that?”

With that, Bucky reached into his bag and pulled out the photo the girl smuggled into her duffel bag. He’d taken it out earlier that day when he realized the importance of it. He handed it to Steve, and Sam got up from his spot to inspect it as well. 

She and Loki stood in front of an old shack, smiling at the camera, but it had obviously been cropped. “Open the frame.”

Steve did as he was told and pulled the photo out. It unfolded to reveal Hela, Thor, Heimdall, and Fandrall on either side of them. Steve licked his lips and met Bucky’s gaze, “This was taken in South Sudan.” Bucky nodded, “I think that’s where they met.”

“What on earth could a girl like that be doing in South Sudan? That’s where you shot Loki in the knee, and why he uses that cane.”

“That’s what I plan to find out,” Bucky smiled brightly. “Loki scrubbed her files from most databases a year and a half ago to try to protect her from us. He was desperate that we didn’t know anything about her but what we could see through a camera lens. 

“When I say she’s worth more than we know, this is what I mean.”

Sam let out a long breath, “You really sure we should be giving her access to our files, then?” “I put a tracking system on her phone. It records 24/7, video and audio. She won’t be doing anything we won’t know about.”

“This is a dangerous game, Buck,” Steve said solemnly, eyeing the photo with a pained expression. “This could blow up in our faces.”

“Danger is what we do, Stevie.”

You squinted at a bank statement, rubbing your temple with your free hand. Reading this much without your glasses was giving you a migraine. 

Peter stood to one side of the room with all the exits in sight. Instead of glaring at you, he instead watched you curiously, his gaze mostly landing on your injuries. You hoped you'd planted the seed of sympathy for you in his mind, but it was hard to tell. You didn't know him well enough yet, but soon enough you would. 

The elevator doors dinged in the main room, and you looked up just in time for James to stroll through the doors of the dining room. He was stunning, but gruffly tired in his suit. The soft beard suited him, as did the few buttons undone at the top of his shirt. 

Those fiery ice blue eyes landed on you in a second, hungry as ever. He made his way to you, ignoring Peter completely. James turned your chair to face him and set both hands on the armrests, caging you in. 

His breath smelled like he'd had a drink before coming back to the penthouse, and it wafted over you as he swallowed thickly. 

"C'mon, let's go to bed." 

You made a face, "But it's only five o'clock. It's too early for bed."

James shook his head in annoyance, letting one of his hands come up to cup your jaw. His thumb ghosted along the bruises he'd left on your throat this morning as he pressed a hard kiss to your lips. 

"We're not gonna sleep, doll," he said dangerously as he pulled back, his bright eyes watching for any fight on your part. 

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you glanced awkwardly at Peter in his spot across the room before turning back to James and nodding, "Oh…okay."

James let out a little grunt at your acceptance and looped his hands under you, lifting you with ease onto his hips. He smacked your ass and squeezed, and you couldn't help but yelp in surprise. 

He turned to Peter, "You're relieved for the night, kid."

Peter's gaze flicked to you, but you turned to press your face into James' neck to avoid it. "Yes sir, Mr. Barnes."

James waltzed down the hallway without a backward glance, but you peeked up enough to see Peter watching this monster carry you to his bedroom before James turned the corner. He made a beeline for the bed, dropping you on the mattress and going for his belt in the same movement. 

"How was your day?" you asked, gazing up at him sweetly. 

He stopped for a second, quirking a brow at you, "Busy and stressful."

He went back to work, slipping the belt off and tossing it to the ground. He went to his buttons on his shirt, but you stood and smacked his hands away lightly and started on them yourself. 

James let you, and you asked quietly, "Aren't you going to ask how mine was?"

"I don't really care how your day was, doll."

"I went through most of the files," you said anyways, and he let out an exasperated groan. "I'd have gotten through more if I had my glasses."

You pushed off his shirt and let it hit the floor, then went for his pants. He just watched you, so you let out a little sigh, "I have the worst headache…"

James opened his mouth to speak, likely to tell you he didn't care, so you smoothed your hands up his fuzzy chest and placed a soft kiss to his sternum. You wanted to keep him happy, but you had to get what you needed. 

"Will you make it go away, daddy?" you asked with a small pout. "Make me feel good and forget all about it?"

His brows raised in surprise, "What are you doing?"

You shrugged and stepped up on your tiptoes to kiss his chin, "Being your little doll."

"Dolls don't talk," he pointed out, but it was lightly playful. You had room to push. 

"You like it when I talk," you replied coyly. This was the same game you'd play with Loki when you needed something before he changed. It felt a bit like riding a bike. 

"Hmm," he hummed, scanning your gaze, but you made sure to watch him through your lashes with a small smile.

"You can't go out of the penthouse for a while," he said, throwing you off guard. You pulled back a bit but James just tugged your wrists back up to lace around his neck. "I'd rather wait for the heat to die down, but one of these days I'll take you out and show you off."

You nodded, but there was no hiding your disappointment. James leaned in and captured your lips in a slow kiss, and something fluttered in your chest as you kissed him back. Your eyes slipped shut, and you found yourself falling into it before he cruelly pulled away. 

"Tomorrow, you and I will be having dinner. You're gonna dress up real nice and pretty for me," he told you softly, making your brows furrow in confusion. "We're gonna have ourselves a little date."

"I thought we couldn't leave the penthouse," you said slowly, and James grinned brightly at you. 

"I have something in mind. Don't worry your pretty little head about it."

He didn't give you a chance to reply, instead scooping you up and carrying you back onto the bed. You hit the mattress with an oof when he tossed you down. 

James was on you in a second, pushing up your dress and spreading your thighs wide for him. He planted himself between them, his broad hands palming the insides of your legs. His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as he gazed in awe at your cunt. 

"I've been thinking about this pussy all day…" he murmured, transfixed. "The way it smells…"

James lay flat on the bed, nuzzling close. His nose brushed your folds as he took in a deep breath through his nostrils, exhaling with a deep groan. 

Your nipples were rock hard as you watched him, tingling with delicious anxiety at what you knew was to come. Before the other day, it had been over a year since you'd been eaten out, and even though that experience with James ended badly, there was no denying his skill with his mouth. 

"The way it tastes…" 

His nose brushed up to your clit, replaced quickly by his fanning breath across your spread cunt. You got up on your elbows to watch as James licked a heavy stripe up your slit, his eyes rolling back. A soft moan escaped deep from your chest at the sight and sensation. 

Quickly he palmed your thighs around his cheeks, licking you again. His large tongue laved along your lips, not quite delving inside, but enough to make your legs twitch. 

"That damned body wash was in my head all day. I couldn't stop thinking about coming home and doing this."

His mouth closed over your clit, tongue flicking the bud once, twice, three times. You moaned and let your head fall back into the covers as he pressed harder. Slick pooled from your cunt and between your cheeks as he picked up his pace, your hips rolling in time to meet him again and again. 

"Oh, God," you breathed painfully, reveling in the feeling of it. You started to let yourself fade again…into him and this feeling you'd gone so long without. Your fingers tangled into his hair, toes curling as that beautiful coil began to tighten deep in your belly. 

And then James pulled away, licking his lips like a fiend. You let out a pitiful cry, looking at him with betrayal. James tugged your hands from his hair to loom above you, his lips glistening with your wetness. 

"Is that why you put me in this dress?" you asked with a pant, squinting angrily at him. "To tease me?"

"Oh, calm down," he hushed, but it was playful. "You're being such a good girl, making all those noises. Don't ruin it now by talking."

"You like the noises I make?" you asked softly, smirking up at him. 

James grinned wolfishly, "I love the noises you make."

You thought about that for a moment, watching the way your pussy juice glistened on his lips. You reached out to touch it, feel the way it slipped under your thumb. 

"You taught me that… it was okay to make them," you murmured, and James squinted down at you. An idea surfaced, and before you could really think about it, you found yourself leaning up to kiss him. You could taste yourself on him, swallowing his groan as your tongue flicked out along his bottom lip. James kissed you back, his own licking against yours. 

"Teach me more," you whispered as you pulled away, leaning your forehead against his. James watched you through hooded lids as you swallowed thickly to gather your thoughts. "Please?"

"Teach you?" he asked back, just as quiet. 

"You gave me my first orgasm in over a year," you told him softly, arching your back up and spreading your legs wide. "And it was better than any orgasm Loki ever gave me. I want more, James. 

"If I'm supposed to give you my body, I wanna do it right. I wanna make you feel just as good as you make me feel," you said. Your hand snaked between you to his unbuttoned slacks, palming him through the fabric. Though the rest of him stayed still, James' dick twitched in your hand. "Teach me how to pleasure you, daddy. I wanna learn."

A slow grin peeled across his cheeks, and his own hand moved to palm your throat. You extended your neck so he had as much room as he wanted. James' thumb caressed your jawline as he watched you, a dark fire breaking out behind those ice blues. 

"You gonna do everything I say?" he asked dangerously. "It'll always end with you feeling good, doll. I promise, but you gotta do what I tell you."

You nodded the best you could. "I promise, daddy."

"Hold onto the pillows, princess," he commanded, a soft yet devilish voice. "Just let it happen."

You did as you were told, sliding your hands up to hold the pillow under your head. You kept your legs spread wide, though you were beginning to sweat under the cardigan and all this dirty talk, but you didn't want to risk interrupting what he had now in mind. 

James kept one hand planted firmly on your throat, the other pushing up your dress around your waist to expose your cunt to anyone who would walk through the bedroom door. His deft fingers ghosted along the inside of your thigh, smooth and sure when you were so anxious. 

"Perfect, stay just like that," he praised, and your back arched as if on instinct, a primal response to him telling you a nice thing. 

The pads of his fingers pressed against your slick entrance. A shuddering breath rattled through your ribcage as he teased your hole, watching your face as you watched his hand. His finger disappeared, and with it, your pussy stretched around it. 

Your jaw dropped as you watched it, felt the slight sting of your muscles expanding against the intrusion. Your eyes welled, the wet sound of him pumping you slowly filling the room. 

"Look at me, doll," he grunted, in such a softly demanding voice you couldn't help but comply. "Watch me while you fall apart."

His weight pressed harder on your throat, constricting the flow of air. Your face rushed with heat, the sopping of your cunt flooding between your thighs. James pressed another finger inside slowly, smiling to himself as he watched your mouth open a little further. 

The burning subsided to slippery wet pleasure, your breath picking up even though it was restricted with the slightly increasing weight of James pushing down on you. You held onto the pillows tightly as your cunt clenched around his digits, your back arching. 

James' eyes bored into yours, but there was no mistaking the same hazy blur in them that was sure to be in yours. He was just as lost in it as you were, and when you let out a desperate moan his fingers tightened around your throat while the ones inside you curled. 

"Ohhh," you whined, toes curling once more at the feeling. 

"Roll your hips, doll," James murmured, thrusting a little faster, but just as smooth into your pussy. "Fuck my hand."

You didn't know if it was the loss of oxygen or your fucked up brain, but it sent a jolt of liquid heat straight to your cunt. His soft commands, his strong hand, it was doing just what you wanted. You were fading into James Barnes. For a little while, all you had to do was live in the pleasure before you had to go back to surviving. 

A blessed reprieve. 

Your hips rolled, rocking down on his thick fingers in time with his own movements. Watching him as you did what he told you, you knew it was messed up. This man abducted you, raped you, was mentally torturing you, and you basically begged for more. 

You knew you were doing this to survive, both mentally and and physically…but a part of you liked it. A part of you was good at this…Sleeping with monsters. 

Your face flushed with a rush of heat at the thought, sinful as it was. Your pussy clamped down as a sudden orgasm shattered your mind. It came out of nowhere. Your body arched violently, an earthquaking cry of ecstasy bursting from your chest.  

"Ohh, daddy!" you yelled out, your whole being shaking under his tight grip, his probing hand. He never stopped, never relented until all the shuddering petered out. 

Your legs twitched as he slowed, and you came slowly back to the world around you. James loomed above you, sucking on the fingers of one hand while the other brushed back your hair. 

"Good girl," he cooed sweetly as he pulled them from his lips. James leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting out a soft sigh before pulling away. 

"See? What am I always saying?" he asked in a light voice. 

"Do what you tell me and you'll take care of me," you croaked back. Your eyes filled with grateful tears that it was true, that again it was true. He wasn't like Loki, he didn't trick you.

"That's right. My good girl's right," James whispered sweetly. "I'm taking care of you, aren't I?"

James trailed kisses across your face, dusting your cheeks with his soft attention. You didn't realize how hard you were clutching the pillow until you peeled your fingers away from it. You laced your hands into James' hair as you came down from your high, reveling in the feeling.

"Take care of me, daddy," you found yourself saying, steady and strong. You meant it. "Please."

James pressed his lips to your jaw, “How’s your headache, doll?”

Scratching his scalp, you licked your lips as you laid there content, “Mmm, fading.”

“Let’s make it go away, huh?”

James pulled you to sit up and pushed off your cardigan. You watched as he threw it off into the ether, then hopped off the bed to rid himself of his pants. They crumpled to the floor, his hard length bobbing and ready for you as he climbed back onto the covers. 

Gripping the hem of your dress, James lifted it up and over your head. Your hair brushed your shoulder blades as he tossed it behind him, and his hands went straight for your breasts. 

"Mmm," he hummed as he palmed them, "a few good meals, some meat on your bones, and you'll be perfect."

You leaned back on your hands as he gazed in pure pleasure at your tits in his hands. "You like a bit of meat?"

James' devilish eyes flicked to yours with a smirk, "More to hold onto. Less likely I'm gonna break you, doll."

"You take care of your toys. Right, daddy?"

"I do," he murmured, then captured your lips with his. Your arms looped around his shoulders as he pressed you into the mattress, his weight pushing you deep into the fluffy bedspread. 

You let out a soft moan as his hands tangled into your hair, his cock pressing insistently against your core. Your inner thighs were slippery from his tongue and fingers, easy for him to glide over your folds. James groaned into you, rocking you into that place of complacency and brain fog. 

He lifted just enough to turn you gently onto your stomach, lifting your hips and stuffing a pillow beneath them. His chest pressed against your back, his knees pushing your legs wide apart. 

When his tip breached your entrance, you whined in anticipation. He pushed inside just enough to make you tense, then started a trail of kisses along your shoulder. His strong palms slid up the curves of your bruised body, gentle and soft, climbing over your shoulders and arms until his fingers intertwined with yours. 

"Just let it happen, doll," he whispered sweetly, his voice gruff as he held himself back. "You can't stop this, and you don't want to."

It was strange, how when he said it like that it was tantalizing. Before it terrified you, but with his body molded over yours and his soft breath in your ear, it made your pussy twitch and flood. His warmth, his weight, it lulled you into a sea of hazy fog to take you away from the fear of the last year and a half. 

James thrust further in slowly, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath. He pulled out a bit, pushed forward a bit, until he was rocking you into the blankets while you lay there, taking it all. 

It didn't take long for the coil to build again, for your eyes to roll into the back of your head. You were so full, and warm. Your fingers tightened around his, surrounded by James and his musky scent as his cock spread you wide open, trapped around his girth. 

He glided through you like he was made to, slick and smooth. With your back arched and your chest pressed into the mattress, you just took it all like he wanted you to. Your body just let go, drinking in the experience and his pampering.

It wasn't like with Loki, who wanted you to be a toy by way of just being a hole to use and abuse. Sure, James said those things, but with him the word toy was used with endearment. He still wanted you to feel good, to enjoy it. He just wanted you to be in the moment and let him make you cry out and cum around him. 

James' hand untangled from one of yours, the other gripping both wrists. He pressed his palm on the back of your neck, pushing you into the bed. The new angle hit you deep, the insistent pressing of his head against your cervix making your pussy weep with ecstasy. 

You cried weakly into the sheets as you came. Your eyes clamped shut, a sudden flood of tears pouring down your cheeks. They soaked the blanket as James picked up speed, grunting behind you. 

"There you go," he cooed sweetly, his hips punishingly slapping into the backs of your thighs. His words were so sweet compared to his movements, it made your murky head swim. "That's all daddy wanted. Just a good toy…"

James groaned, thrusting harshly one last time. He buried himself deep as he came, his strong hands bruising where they held you. As he finished, a choked sob suddenly burst from your chest, and then your whole body began to shake. 

"Hey, hey," he murmured as he pulled out and turned you on your back. You both sighed achingly at the feeling, but you couldn't stop crying. James brushed back your messy hair and placed a kiss on your forehead. "Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head roughly, but the tears didn't stop. You covered your face with your hands as you tried to quell them, but suddenly you were a burst pipe, crying with an intensity you had never had. 

"What then-. Oh," James said as some realization hit him. He kissed the back of your hand, not even trying to get you to drop them. "I'll go get you some water."

"No!" you cried out, sitting up sharply and dragging him back to you. You didn't know why, but you needed him here. "Please don't leave me, please!"

"I'm not leaving. It's okay," he soothed. James sat next to you on the bed and pulled you onto his lap. You couldn't seem to help yourself. You held him tightly and cried into his neck. 

"I don't, I don't know why I'm crying," you wailed pitifully. "It was wonderful, James! I just don't want you to go… I'll stop, I promise!"

"Don't worry about it, doll," James whispered, cuddling you close. He rubbed his big hands over your body, making you feel so safe and small in his arms. He rocked you back and forth as the tears started to slow. "You did a great job. You were perfect. You're just having some sub drop. It happens, and it's okay."

"S-subdrop?" you hiccuped, rubbing your face. 

"Sometimes, you get so calm and immersed in a scene, that you just lose yourself a bit," he murmured against your hair. "You let go of everything, and when you peak it can be overwhelming. All those emotions just spill out of you when you release." 

"You're not mad?" you asked quietly, hardly above a whisper. "It was so good and I ruined it."

James moved you to sit in front of him. He set his legs on either side of you, naked as the day he was born and his dick still covered in your slick and his cum. He cupped your face in his hands and stared you down with those bright eyes. 

"You didn't ruin anything. It's a good thing, doll. You did exactly what I told you to do and you let go." You couldn't help but give him a watery smile, and he returned it softly. James cocked his head, "You were right about one thing, though."

You sniffled, watching him worriedly. "About what?"

"It's too early to sleep," he said, giving you a mischievous look. "How about a movie? I'll make you a snack, and we'll snuggle up on the couch."

You brightened up. That sounded like heaven after the long day you had. "Okay, daddy."

James gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before lifting you up from the bed. He carried you naked on his hip as he went to the kitchen and made popcorn, refusing to let you down even as he poured it into a bowl. 

He set you gently on the couch and draped a fuzzy blanket over your shoulders, then went back to the kitchen to pour some wine. He only poured one glass, which was a good thing as you were already falling asleep by the time he came back. 

You curled up against him under the blanket, and he fed you pieces of popcorn along with a few sips of the wine in between. He put on the Lord of the Rings, and as much as you loved the movie it put you to sleep pretty quickly. 

Just before slumber took you under, snug and warm under the covers, you peeked out your head to look up at James. He looked down at you with a soft smile and a gentle kiss to your nose. 

"Do you like me, James?"

His eyes widened at your question, but he thankfully didn't pull away. He just rubbed your back and cocked his head, "What do you mean?"

You shrugged, "I know you like me in bed but…what about this? Spending time with me."

He shifted awkwardly as he thought, glancing away. You could see his mind churning, and for a second you assumed he was coming up with a response that would both insult and terrify you, and you were ready to burst into tears again. 

James settled back against the couch and hugged you close, letting out a soft sigh. 

"Yeah, I think I do, doll." He frowned, suddenly seeming a bit unsure of himself. He cleared his throat and pointedly watched the television instead of you. "What about you?"

That was when you knew you had him. A piece of him, anyways, that actually liked you. One that was sympathetic. You snuggled close and pressed a sweet to his neck, smiling as you felt him take in a breath. 

"I do," you whispered, "I've never felt like this before."

His arms tightened around you, but he said nothing. Content with your manipulations for the day, you finally let yourself fall asleep in your captor's arms, somehow feeling safer than you had in over a year. 

Notes: Peter's gonna play a MUCH bigger part in this than you're expecting o.O and so are Steve and Sam <3

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[gummydummy19]

until you ruined it

Content Warning: SMUT, some degradation, enemies to lovers, L-bomb, hate fucking, cursing, enhanced reader, age gap (reader is early 20s, Bucky is early 30s), AU Avengers ft Steve Rogers, Wanda, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson all living in Stark tower together, kind off adopted stark reader, ANGST, happy ending, fluff.

A/N: I had so much fun writing this bhahahahah, as always, let me know what you think and requests are always open! ily x

Word Count: 4318

God you fucking hated him. You LOATHED him. Every single thing he did pissed you off.

You were sat in the kitchen of the Stark Tower, having a lovely quiet breakfast before Bucky had to stroll in and ruin it.

He stirred his coffee, the little spoon hitting the inside of the mug over and over again. You let out a deep sigh, trying to keep your calm. But as soon as you caught a glimpse of that amused smirk, you lost it.

He was pissing you off on purpose, because he fucking enjoyed it.

You shot a tiny electric spark his way, hitting his hand. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, but it was enough to make him drop his mug. Coffee spilled over his pants and his shoes as the cup shattered all over the kitchen tiles.

“WHAT THE FUCK Y/N?!”

“Oops” you said innocently, as you grabbed your glass of orange juice and walked back to you room.

Okay maybe you had overreacted a tiny bit, but in your defence, the last couple of months had been straight up TORTURE.

Sure, your life hadn’t been the easiest, but you were perfectly happy with the way things were.

You lived in the Stark Tower, as a part of the Avengers. Tony and Pepper basically adopted when you were 16, which was now over half a decade ago.

Your father used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. He was killed by Hydra during an attack on his base when your mother was 6 months pregnant. They took her hostage and she died while giving birth to you.

That was what you had been told.

You don’t really remember a lot of what happened after that, you blocked most of it away.

When you were 5 years old, S.H.I.E.L.D rescued you from Hydra. You were put into a special foster program and were given pills for so called “allergic reactions”.

According to Pepper, S.H.I.E.L.D always kept taps on you, they just wanted you to have a normal childhood. When you got older the meds weren’t enough to keep your powers down, that’s when Tony took you in and made you an Avenger.

You were grateful S.H.I.E.L.D tried so hard to give you a normal childhood, you just always felt like something was missing, and when you moved into the tower, that void finally got filled.

They were your family. Your home.

Bruce and Tony helped you with your powers, while Steve and Nat helped you with physical training. When the physical training from Captain insane and Ninja Nat got too intense, you could always count on Sam for a good old jog in the park. You and Wanda even took some classes together to finish your degree, since you were only 2 years apart and she never got to finish hers.

Your life was perfect the way it was, until he had to walk in and ruin it.

Exactly 3 months ago, Steve introduced Bucky to the family. You didn’t know much about him, only that he was very important to Steve and they knew each other back in the 40s.

Bucky had been through a lot, spending years of his life brainwashed, fighting as Hydras personal murder puppet. It must have been awful. So when Steve finally found his best friend again, you were all really excited to meet him and welcome him to the team.

You remember the moment you first met Bucky like it was yesterday. You, Sam and Tony were sitting on the couch, watching some boring reality show, when the sound of the elevator dinging made you turn around.

Holy fuck. You didn’t mean to stare, but you were physically unable to tear your eyes off of him. He had to be the single most handsome man you had ever seen in your entire life, and you lived with the Avengers for christ sake.

Steve’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Y/N, Tony, Sam… This is Bucky. He’s moving in today.”

Damn, this man was hot. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush, your throat went dry, your face burned and your brain was somehow unable to make a coherent sentence.

That lasted a whole 10seconds before he opened up his stupid mouth.

“I didn’t know stark tower had a kids department.”

Wait what? You could have died right there. You were damn near drooling over the sight of him and he just called you a child.

Get your fucking shit together Y/N, you thought to yourself.

Tony and Sam bursted out laughing beside you, Steve had the decency to try and stifle his chuckle, but overall it just made your slight embarrassment worse.

“Yeah, apparently now we are turning it into a retirement home.” You shot back.

“I was just kidding” Bucky said, an arrogant smirk plastered on his face.

“So was I” you replied, and with that, you left the room.

Ever since that day it had been nothing but snarky comments and disgusted looks between the two of you. And it only got worse.

You hated it. You hated him. But most of all, you hated how attracted you still were to him.

Maybe your attitude towards him was a reaction to his behaviour towards you, or maybe it was your way of covering up how you actually felt about him.

Either way, you knew where your hatred for him came from, but you didn’t have a clue what it was about you that made him so mad, and it was messing with your head.

You couldn’t stand how much you cared. How some days when the bickering got so bad, you’d lie awake at night thinking what was so irritating about you that he had to be so mean.

You made sure he never knew tho. He never had a clue how much his words actually hurt you or how much you just wanted to have one normal conversation with him. How badly you wanted to get to know him. And how desperately you craved just a tiny bit of intimacy every once in a while.

You were sitting in your room, behind your desk, sipping your orange juice while scribbling down some things on your to do list, when all of a sudden, your door bursted open.

“Why the fuck do you have to be such a fucking BITCH all the time ?!?!” Bucky shouted at you.

“Ever heard of fucking knocking, grandpa?!” You yelled right back at him as you shot up from your seat.

“I have coffee all over me because you can’t control your fucking temper!” His voice boomed through your room as he stalked closer to you.

“It was a fucking accident. Get the fuck over it, old man” you said, not really knowing how to react to the sudden lack of personal space.

“An accident?!” He questioned. “I spend the last 20minutes mopping the kitchen floor!”

“Oh dear! What are you, scared you’re gonna turn into a 1940s housewife when you touch a fucking mop?” You chuckled. “The hell you want me to do about it ?”

“Apologise.” He almost growled, you could feel his breath on your face.

“HAH, you wish” you laughed.

“I fucking said, apologise.” His voice was way more quiet now, but still stern.

“And I fucking said no.” You tried your best to make your tone match his, but the proximity made you nervous.

He didn’t reply immediately, you had no idea what he was thinking, or what he was going to say next.

Bucky let out an angry groan before surging forward and smashing his lips on yours. He pushed you back until your ass hit your desk.

“God you’re so fucking insufferable” he growled as he picked you up to sit you on the desk and moved to stand in between your legs, waisting no time in ripping off your shirt.

What the hell was happening.

“Fuck you!” You growled back at him as you fumbled with his belt.

“Shut your fucking mouth for once and then maybe I will” he said as he quickly pulled off his own shirt before crashing his mouth on yours again.

Your hands roamed over his torso. It felt so good to have him so close to you.

“Take off your bra” he said, while unbuckling his belt.

Your cheeks grew hot. This was just sex. A physical outlet of all the tension that had been growing between the two of you for months. He hated you, he was just horny and annoyed and he needed someone to take it out on. And as much wanted it to be more, you knew you would happily take whatever he gave you, and you hated yourself for it.

As soon as your bra hit the floor, his eyes grew wide, and 10 shades darker.

“Fuck” he breathed out, and he immediately latched his mouth on your nipple.

You let out a heavenly moan as he started massaging the other breast with his metal hand. The cold sensation of the metal on one breast and his hot wet tongue on the other had your mind spinning.

He moved to slide his hands under your skirt and dragged your panties down, letting them fall on the floor next to your bra.

His metal fingers came to mess with your folds and you swear you stopped breathing for a second.

“oh FUCK, Bucky” you moaned as he circled your clit, his teeth slightly tugging on your hard nippled before kissing up your neck.

Your hands moved to his waist, pulling down his pants and underwear enough to reveal his throbbing cock.

You took him in your hand and started pulling slow and steady strokes up and down his shaft, hearing his breath getting heavy in your ear. All while he kept rubbing your clit with his metal hand.

“Im gonna fuck that attitude right out of you, you little bitch” he said as he pulled his fingers from your dripping pussy, before pushing his length into you in one slow, steady motion.

“Oh SHIT” you both moaned in unison.

You wanted to wrap your arms around his shoulders, to kiss him, to pull him closer, but you couldn’t bring yourself to show him how much you wanted him. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, or maybe you wanted to spare yourself the embarrassment.

You placed your hands on either side of your thighs, gripping onto the desk until your knuckles turned white.

He started thrusting into you, his hands held onto your hips so hard you were sure they were going to leave bruises.

His head was buried in your neck and his movements were rough. His pace was perfect, his cock dragged across that spongey spot inside of you with every single thrust. You bit your lip in a sad attempt to keep yourself quiet.

The room was filled with nothing but the sounds of pure filth. Flesh slapping against flesh, Bucky’s muffled groans and sighs and the occasional moan you just couldn’t help but let fall past your lips.

You felt a warmth starting to spread in your lower stomach and your walls started pulsing around his throbbing cock.

“Oh fuck I can feel you, are you gonna cum for me?” He breathed against your neck.

Bucky’s metal fingers started rubbing your clit and you were gone.

“Yeah” was the only coherent thing you managed to get out before you felt yourself tumble over the edge.

A few pathetic little “ah ah ah”s followed by a loud moan and a heavenly sigh left your mouth as your orgasm washed over you.

Bucky managed to fuck you through it until he finally couldn’t contain himself anymore.

“AARGHH fuck SHIT fhuh…” a string of curses and gasps filled your ears as he pulled out of you and finished all over your stomach, stroking himself until he was utterly and entirely spent.

When you both started breathing normally again, Bucky quickly pulled his pants back up.

“Let me know when you’re washing that, I still need this coffee stain dealt with” he said, signaling to your cum covered skirt and his coffee pants.

“Get the fuck out of my room, Barnes” was all you managed to get out before you hopped off your desk and walked into your bathroom, trying your best not to wobble too much.

What the fuck just happened?

You took off the remains of your ruined clothes and turned on your shower as you heard your front door close. Bucky had left. Just like you asked him to.

You let out a deep breath you didn’t know you’d been holding as you stepped underneath the streams of hot water.

Fog surrounded you. Clouding your vision as your thoughts clouded your mind. Bucky had slept with you. No, he had fucked you. He had used your body as he pleased and you had let him. And fuck, you wanted him to do it again. Over and over and over again until he grew tired of you, which you hoped he never would.

Part of you had never been so disappointed in yourself. Yet another part had never been so satisfied.

You stood there, in your shower, trying to wash away the guilt until the water turned cold.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Arrogant asshole” you spat in between kisses while your fingers clawed at his shoulders.

“Ignorant bitch” Bucky growled as he pushed you further inside of his room, mindlessly slamming shut the door behind him.

Somehow you had gotten here again, wrapped up in your steaming hatred for one another, engulfed in a passionate battle for dominance.

Ever since that day in your room, the two of your couldn’t seem to stay away from each other. Seeking each other out and getting under each other’s skin until one of you snapped.

Today was no different. You had gotten back from a mission, and you were hurt.

You got hurt, while saving Bucky.

“Couldn’t even do what you were told ONCE!” He yelled, spinning you around so your boobs were pressed against his wall.

“You’re lucky I fucking saved your ass, grandpa!”

He pulled down the zipped of your suit, revealing your bare, bruised back. The sight made him growl, he bend down and licked a long stripe up your spine, nibbling and biting along the way.

You winced when his teeth hit a cut. “Fuck! Watch it, Barnes.”

“I wouldn’t fucking have to if you had been more careful!” He snapped back, yanking your shoulder, making you turn around again.

His lips smashed back against yours, capturing them in a bruising kiss.

Your hands flew to his neck, tugging on the short strands of hair.

God it felt good to have him this close to you. It always felt so good.

“Hurry the fuck up, Barnes.” You growled as he took his sweet time, nibbling on your neck.

“Patience.” He teased.

You felt the air get thicker, as if time slowed down.

Bucky slowly slid the rest of your suit off, leaving you bare in front of him.

You felt your stomach turn as his hungry gaze scanned your naked body.

He pulled his own shirt over his head and started taking a few steps back, until his legs hit the edge of his bed.

Never breaking eye contact with you, he took off his jeans, leaving him in just his boxer shorts.

Bucky sat down at the foot of the bed.

“Come here” he said, a sly smirk teasing the edge of his lips.

You slowly made your way over to him, covered in nothing but cuts and bruises.

His hands immediately found your waist as you moved to straddle his lap, your mouth crashing on his.

Bucky groaned, sliding his hands flat over your exposed back. Roaming over every inch of bare skin.

His metal hand found the back of your neck, when you started grinding into his clothed erection, he tangled his metal fingers in your hair and pulled your head back.

“I said, patience.” His voice sounded stern yet playful.

“You need a lesson on how to do as you’re told” he chuckled.

“You need a lesson on how to say thank you, you ungrateful piece of shit.” You managed to snap back at him.

In the blink of an eye, Bucky had flipped you over on the bed, pinning you underneath him as he hovered over you, his nose flared and his eyes turned dark.

“Grateful?! That’s what you want me to be after you almost get yourself killed, you stupid little bitch?” He spat, pushing his hand in between your legs.

“Oh please, don’t make it sound like you care!” You suppressed a moan at the feel of his metal fingers teasing your wet core.

“I fucking don’t! But it would be nice to not feel like I’m babysitting the toddler of the group every time I set foot on the field!”

Ouch.

You tried your hardest to cover up how hurt you were. You thought that after all this time, Bucky finally saw you as an equal, an adult. More than some annoying 20 something only good enough to keep his dick wet. Guess you should have known better.

“God you’re so fucking annoying!” He growled as he finally tugged his underwear off, revealing his rock hard cock.

He stroked himself a few times before sliding in between your soaking folds.

You both let out a mixture of sighs and moans as he started moving in and out of you in slow, hard thrusts.

“There you fucking go. Like you so much better with my dick inside of you.” Bucky said as he picked up the pace.

His words from earlier were still ringing in your ears.

Babysitting the toddler.

He saw you as a burden.

“Shut up and make me cum.” You groaned, getting closer to that precious high.

“I told you to be patient.” He smirked as he slowed down again, just when you felt yourself giving in to that much needed release.

Maybe it was the heat of the moment, the pent up stress of the day, whatever. You felt your eyes getting itchy. Tears prickling at your waterline, ready to spill.

“GOD I FUCKING HATE YOU” you screamed.

No I don’t. I fucking love you.

Your mind was racing. Your body was aching. You just wanted Bucky. You were tired. So tired. Tired of games. Tired of pretending to hate him when in fact, you didn’t, not even a little bit, not even at all.

“I fucking hate you too” Bucky’s voice was raspy in your ear. Reminding you that this was no more than a primal need. A way to relieve some stress.

He picked up his pace again. Your ankles hooked around his lower back in an attempt to keep him there as his pubic bone rubbed against your clit, making you see stars.

Your hands flew around his shoulders, gripping his neck and tangling at his hair.

“Please.” you moaned, surprising both Bucky and yourself with your sudden vulnerability.

“What’s the matter, Princess? Change of heart?” He teased.

You were so tired.

And he was making you feel so good.

“Bucky, please.” You hadn’t noticed the tears finally started running down your cheeks until you felt him kiss them away.

“Please,…I…” you whimpered as you felt yourself getting closer and closer.

“Ssshhh” he whispered. The first moment of comfort you had ever gotten from Bucky.

It all became too much.

“Bucky, I…god….I…”

“Let go, princess. Cum for me”

That was all you needed. Feeling yourself tumble over the edge. Your mind was racing.

“Fuck, oh…oh…fhuh, I…I love you…”

Your voice was merely a whisper as you felt the fireworks erupting inside of you. It was all too much.

Bucky’s hips stuttered and he came inside of you with a deep groan, dropping his head on your shoulder as he kept slow fucking the both of you through your highs.

After a couple seconds, your eyes fluttered open, making you realize you had closed them a while ago.

Bucky was still breathing heavily, laying collapsed on top of you, when the realization hit you.

You didn’t say that out loud, did you?

As if he read your mind, Bucky raised his head. You were greeted with the most shit eating grin you had ever seen in your life.

Oh no. Fuck, god please no.

“Does someone have a little crush?” He chuckled. Making you want to die.

Before you knew it, tears started welling in your eyes again. You pushed him off of you, scrambling from under him and getting off the bed.

You hurriedly wrapped a loose blanket around yourself and picked up your discarded suit.

“Where are you going?” He laughed, not really understanding the situation.

You gave him one last look before leaving, finally making him notice the tears in your eyes.

“You know what, Barnes? Go fuck yourself.” You sniffled as you rushed out of his room.

This was by far the most embarrassing moment of your life. By the time you got to your room on the other side of the hallway, you full on broke into tears.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Bucky sat on his bed as he watched you rush out of his room. The sight of your teary eyes made his grin melt away like snow on a sunny day.

You loved him?

You?

Loved him?

The sounds of your muffled cries travelled through the empty halls and closed doors, reaching his enhanced ears.

Oh for fucks sakes.

He quickly pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and made his way to your room.

He padded through the desolate hallway, stopping in front of your door, trying to ignore the sudden nervous pit in his stomach.

He never meant to hurt you. When he saw you risk your life on the field today, in order to save him. Something inside him snapped.

Truth be told, from the moment he laid eyes on you, he was a goner. It had been so damn long since he had felt this way about anyone, and he had absolutely no clue how to handle it. He knew he had probably messed it up from the start, but he couldn’t stay away from you.

That being said, this wasn’t what you guys did. Feelings. Emotions. Communication.

No, you screamed at each other, and then you fucked each others brains out.

He had never seen you cry, not like this. And he hated it.

“Get your fucking shit together, Barnes.” He thought to himself as he raised up his fist, knocking on your door.

“Y/N?”

When he didn’t hear an answer, he leaned his ear closer to your door.

Hearing the distant sound of water running, and your wavering little sobs echoing against the walls of your shower.

Ok screw this.

He opened your door and walked straight to your bathroom, hesitant for only a second before he slowly turned the doorknob.

You had your back towards the door, running your fingers through your wet hair as you calmed your breathing, when you noticed a presence.

“Go away.” You said, not even needing to turn around to know it was Bucky.

But he didn’t listen. He slid off his boxers, and joined you underneath the steaming hot water.

The feeling of his bare chest pressed against your bruised back made you suppress a sigh.

“If you’ve come to laugh at me some more, I’m not in the mood.” You said, still facing away from him.

You felt his chest rise against your back as he took a deep breath. There was a second of silence between the two of you, before he finally spoke.

“Hearing those three perfect little words leave your perfect little mouth while feeling your fluttering pussy squeeze my cock, made me blow my load harder than I ever have before.” He said as he wrapped his arms around you, turning you around to finally face him.

He pushed you back against the tile covered shower wall. When he saw your puffy eyes stare up at him in confusion, he felt a tug at his heart.

“God you drive me crazy. In every possible way. And I am utterly and completely in love with you.” He stated.

Your mouth fell open and you felt your stomach flutter, unable to respond.

“I love how stubborn you are. I love the way you nibble on your bottom lip when you’re trying to focus on something. Or the way you frown your eyebrows when you’re mad at me. I love everything about you, and most of all, I love driving you as crazy as you drive me.” Bucky continued.

“There you go, feel free to laugh at me too.” He said.

You were baffled, having trouble believing those words truly just left Bucky Barnes’ mouth. You had absolutely no clue how to respond.

Bucky took your silence as a sign of rejection. A million thoughts crossing through his mind.

Did he just fuck up even more? Should he have given you space? Was that too much? What if you didn’t even mean what you said and it was just the orgasmic bliss talking? Oh god did he just ruin everything?

“I’ll just…uh….I’ll just go…now…I’m sorry I sho-…hmpf”

You cut off his nervous ramble with a bruising kiss. Surging forward as you latched yourself onto him.

Bucky moaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around you and entangling in a heated make-out session.

When you finally pulled your lips away, it was for no other reason than a desperate need for oxygen.

You both heaved as you caught your breaths, still holding each other close.

“Not so bad for the kids department huh?” You teased.

“I’m sorry.” He said, sincerity and regret clear in his voice.

You leaned up and pressed a soft, sweet kiss against his lips.

“I love you.” You simply said.

“Yeah I guess I love you too, brat.”

Taglist;

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[lt-natrace]

Travelin' Sailor | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Description: A fic based on the song Travelin' Soldier except it's the happy ending that it should have been

Content: Sad/Lonely!Bob for a minute, less than ideal family dynamics (Bob has mommy issues low key), friends that aren’t supportive, a love at first sight so quick it’s unreal, wrong info about the navy, probably wrong timing of how long it takes to receive a letter from cross country on a naval base, happy ending I promise

Word Count: 3.8k

The absolute biggest thanks to @hederasgarden for being my beta on this and being incredibly patient with me never wanting to end a sentence properly. Another thank you to the top gun gang discord for encouraging me to write (and post) again, so much love for y'all.

You could always tell when spring was turning to summer despite the dates on the calendar. The humidity had begun to hang around, the sun set later, and those that came in on lunch break used more napkins to wipe their sweat. You found yourself fanning your warm skin in between running food in the family owned diner you worked in when your coworker, Melissa, asked you to cover her section while she took a quick break. It was nearing the end of the day and the dinner rush had begun to die down, so you accepted. 

A few minutes later, you spotted a tall man with dirty blond hair, outdated wire-framed glasses, and a green jumpsuit making his way across the small dining room to sit at the high top bar. It wasn’t unusual to see men from your small Tennessee town in uniform, many of them took any opportunity to get out just as you were planning yourself. However, most of them were surrounded by loved ones right before deployment. He sat alone, placing his duffel bag on the seat next to him and resting his arms on the counter. As you made your way over to him, you found yourself wondering how someone could be alone at such a time. He had a baby face, but he couldn’t have been much older than you. 

“Can I start you off with something to drink?” you asked with a kind smile, feeling sympathetic. 

“Not really hungry, ma’am. I could use some company though,” the blond man uttered in a quiet voice, as he glanced up only long enough to get a quick look at you. 

“Well, I’m afraid I’m not off for another hour, but if you want to wait until then you’re more than welcome to…Lieutenant Robert Floyd,” you said, reading the patch on his chest as you leaned down and rested your elbows on the bartop in an attempt to see his face better.  He looked down at his fidgeting hands, a deep red forming on his neck as he replied, “That’s fine, I have a few hours until I need to be in Memphis anyways.”

Despite what he said, you still put in an order of fries and got him a fresh cup of iced water. He graciously accepted and you spent the rest of your shift finishing with the few tables you had left, grateful it was a weekday and you didn’t have anyone coming in at the last minute. Throughout clearing tables, grabbing your tips, and beginning to sweep, you felt his eyes on you. Looking up, you had caught the man at the counter looking away as quickly as possible, creating a small smile on your face. As you rounded the corner from the kitchen with your purse and removed your apron, you found him rummaging through his bag.

“Ready to go?” you asked, shaking your hair out from the bow you used to tie it back.

“Um, yeah, I just need to find my wallet to pay for my food,” he stated, not removing his eyes from his duffel as he pushed his hands through the side pockets.

“Don’t worry about it Floyd, consider it a thank you for all that you do,” you said, grabbing his plate and taking it back to the kitchen. You found him shifting in his seat, obviously uncomfortable. “Or you can get me next time”.

He relaxed slightly, grabbing his duffel and watching as you came out from behind the bar to meet him. It wasn’t until he was standing next to you that you realized how tall he really was. You grabbed his arm, wishing Melissa a good night and walked through the front door. Starting your walk down the street, you noticed the hot sun finally beginning to set beyond the trees. 

“My name-, he started.

“So, are you,” you began, realizing you had spoken in unisom. “You first.”

“I was, uh, I was just going to say everyone calls me Bob,” he stated, motioning to the patch on his chest.

“Ok, Bob, I was just asking if you were from this area, think I would remember someone like you,” you inquired, watching a small smile, the first you’d seen him crack, appear on his face. 

“No, m’am, I was born and raised just outside of Knoxville, one blinking stoplight, one bar. Seems like you might know the type.” He let out a chuckle as he looked around the small main street you’ve been taking him down for the past few minutes.

Shortly after, the two of you arrived at a small wooden dock overlooking a pond that had begun to look green with lily pads. You sat your bag on the picnic table and walked down the rickety dock, making careful steps to avoid the weaker spots. Looking over your shoulder as you sat, you spotted Bob cautiously trying to follow your steps. You felt the dock shake slightly the closer he got to where you were seated, feet dangling inches above the water. He sat next to you, pulling his legs under him to avoid getting his boots wet. After a few moments of silence he spoke up.

“Miss, I need to be honest here. I know you probably have a boyfriend and I’m just a stranger, but I got no one back home. I remember during basic, they would pass the letters from loved ones out and I would just sit there. Having to would watch everyone read how much they were missed back home and I would just hope that maybe,” he cleared his throat. “Maybe next time, I’d have someone missing me. Yet here I am, headed to base for the next few months with no one. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I’d like to send a letter back here to you.”

You watched him lift his head, his blue eyes meeting yours for the first time. Your heart ached, wondering how a man with so much love could have no one to send a letter home to. 

“Who said I have a boyfriend?” You asked, keeping eye contact as long as he allowed.

“I guess I just assumed a girl like you would have men asking left and right for at least a dance,” Bob said in a voice so quiet, it was barely heard over the sound of the cicadas. 

“Well then, it may come as a surprise to you that I do not have a boyfriend and I have far less men asking me for a dance than you’d expect. Zero to be exact,” you trailed off, suddenly embarrassed by the admission. “But, I really would enjoy receiving a letter from you, Bob”

He smiled at you, “Tell me about yourself“

The two of you spent the next few hours talking about your hometowns, his time training, and even what he could about the next few months. When the time finally came for him to make his way back to town to catch his ride, the sun had set and the air had become cool again.

You walked him back into town, sharing a comfortable silence. Reaching where you had parked, you found yourself filled with dread at the idea of him leaving. You finally met a man your age with a good head on his shoulders, and he was hours away from being shipped across the country from you. Trying not to be bitter in your last moments together, you looked up at him with the best fake smile you could muster. Despite knowing him for only four hours at this point your conversations felt so natural and you hoped that he’d felt the same.

“I wanna thank you for today,” he started, looking down at his hands as you leaned against your car. “Having someone to be with before being sent away made today less dreary…” he trailed off, looking back at your face, and studying your reaction. Although you would never understand what he was feeling now, you couldn’t imagine the loneliness that came from not having anyone to come home to after months away. 

“The pleasure was all mine, never met a navy pilot before.” You smirked, watching him open his mouth in protest. “Sorry, forgot you’re ‘just a WSO’. I can’t believe you thought being the person in charge of dropping bombs from an airplane was lame. I never wanna hear that again, got it?”

He looked at you confused for a moment. “Again?”

“Well, I’m not going to write these letters and pay postage for a man I don’t plan on seeing again. Plus, you owe me for the fries.” You replied, watching his face redden as he pushed his glasses back up.

“You'll wait for me?’ He asked, making sure he was reading you correctly.

“As long as I keep getting replies to my letters.” You reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck to embrace him and hoped he couldn’t hear the way your heart was beating out of your chest. After a moment, you pulled away, taking one last look into his eyes as a truck pulled up. As it slowed to where you both stood, you noticed a man in a similar uniform sat in the driver’s seat. Bob took a step back, eyes staying locked on yours as he opened the door and climbed in. You broke contact first, hand rummaging through your purse at your side as you took two steps forward, now standing on the edge of the curb. Your hand hit silk and you pulled the ribbon out quickly.

“Something to remind you to come back,” you said, reaching through the rolled down window, and tying it onto his duffel bag. You knew he’d have to find somewhere else to keep it once he got to base, but for the time being, it would be tied in a bow on the top strap.

You stood still, watching the truck drive away until it turned down a street out of sight. You walked slowly, feet dragging along the pavement to your car. You took a few moments of silence to consider the events of today before you turned the key and made your way home, drafting what you wanted to include in your first letter.

—--------------

The first month went by fast, school was out for the summer which meant there were more teenagers at the restaurant and more time you spent working. The times you weren’t, you spent in thought about Lt. Robert Floyd. Your friends took notice of how often you spent staring off and despite your best efforts to explain the connection, everyone brushed it off as a simple school girl crush over a man in a uniform. At first you were frustrated having to explain how in a few short hours and two letters with military postage, you felt you knew him forever. As the months would go on, the comments from your friends had become less frequent. You didn’t know if it was from them beginning to understand or them growing bored of the same jokes, but it didn’t matter.  The third letter you’d received at the very end of the month had a new return address– San Diego. You felt your heart ache as he was now across the country. 

By the second month, you built a routine of sorts. The main part included going into work before the sun rose to distract yourself and avoid worrying about how he was. Some days you felt silly, stressing over a man that was too busy doing tasks of actual importance to worry about some girl he met once at a small diner in a map dot town. Other days, you worried about his safety. You would attempt to reassure yourself with the thought that he knew what he was doing, but his pilot? You had no idea who they were. Did they have someone to come home to? Did they care about the safety of their WSO in the backseat? You wondered if the man that drove him to base was his pilot. 

The days new letters came were your favorite. No matter how soon the last letter had come in, everyday you’d run to the mailbox hoping to find a white envelope with clear, neat handwriting addressed to you. On days you did, you’d drop your bag on the floor of the hallway and hurry to sit and read every word of his surprisingly tidy cursive. After the third read you’d carefully fold it back up exactly as it was and hold it to your chest, sighing deeply. Any chores you’d saved for after work were abandoned in order to get your reply out as soon as possible. 

The third month was hard, nothing you did could distract you from your thoughts. Everywhere you looked there were banners and flags in celebration of those who serve. The local VFW hall was handing out small flags with tags that included names of local veterans or those currently serving. Your friends humored you by tagging along when you placed one in the ground, a small label that read, Lieutenant Robert “BOB” Floyd US Navy, WSO.You spent the Fourth of July watching fireworks with your loved ones, hoping next year he could be beside you on the small blanket. After the holiday passed, you went back to the VFW hall and grabbed the small flag to show Bob when he returned. 

The fourth month brought a lot of doubt from those around you, especially your friends. You were young and they felt you should be out having fun, not waiting by your mailbox hoping for a letter from your favorite sailor. You had shared your frustrations with Melissa and some of the regulars at work, but they encouraged you to ignore what those around you had to say. The older crowd at work especially loved what you were doing, believing it was romantic and a true test of commitment.

At the beginning of the fifth month, you had grown anxious. It had been almost a month since you heard anything from him. The prior letter was short and explained, without giving details, that training was going to be more rigorous to help prepare them for something that had come up. This meant that he wouldn’t be able to write much. In your reply to him you wrote you understood the situation and told him he needed to focus on training. The letters could wait if they needed to, you wanted him to have a clear mind in the sky. That was twenty six days ago. Worried thoughts had begun to take up space in your mind with each day that passed. You wondered if his plane was shot down or if there was a malfunction in equipment during training. In the back of your mind you selfishly wondered if he had grown bored of this game the two of you had been playing. 

After one exceptionally long day you raced home to check your mailbox and this time, there was a letter. In his handwriting, your full name and address were on the front. Tears welled up in your eyes out of relief and you couldn’t wait to open it inside. As you sat in your car, you carefully opened the envelope and saw it contained more pages than he had ever written. Each sentence cleared any doubt you had about him coming back to you.

The first page was strictly apologies. One for the late reply and making you wait for him, the other for not being able to fill you in. In the second page, he went on to explain that he had been selected for a mission that was ‘complicated’, as he described it. He figured it was easier to sugar coat it than worry you that his admiral called it a suicide mission. But somehow, against all odds, everyone made it back on the carrier.

Bob shared more about his family next, he explained that he was raised by a single mother that worked nights and overtime to support them. This led to him joining the navy right out of high school after researching the benefits they could receive. He wanted to step up and help provide a better life for the both of them. He even wrote how he watched her heart break when she found the papers in his bedroom. Instead of beaming with pride as he expected, she was furious, wondering how he could put himself into such a dangerous situation willingly. It’s been nearly four years since they’ve spoken. The fear of losing him in a tragic accident was too great and she couldn’t take anymore heartbreak.

Your cheeks had become damp with tears, but you continued to read. As he would tell you later, you had become the first person Bob ever admitted feeling scared to. He would never tell anyone else, but sometimes the lack of control in the backseat made his hands sweat. This was immediately followed by how in those times of fear the past five months, he would take a deep breath and imagine you. Specifically how you looked dipping the tips of your shoes into the pond with a smile on your face, a pale pink haze from the sunset surrounding you. Your letters  motivated him to stay focused and do whatever he needed to do in order to come back for you. Afterall, he owed you fries, and he could never turn back on that. 

You sat in your car until long after the sun had set and the cool breeze coming in the windows helped to dry your tear stained cheeks. You held the letter against your chest like all the times before, but this time it wasn’t just to feel close to him, it was to make sure that you weren’t dreaming. You wanted to be sure that the pages where he had poured his heart out to you were real. You tried to imagine him writing the letter, probably on a bunk too small for his height. Maybe it was late at night after everyone else had fallen asleep. Above all, you wondered if he felt the same butterflies writing it as you did reading it. The thought alone left you with a giddy smile as you walked into the house. 

Three weeks had passed since that day and you still reread parts of the letter daily. Specifically, the final paragraph where he’d promised to come back. You’d gotten a few letters since, one that had come the next day apologizing for dumping a lot on you. He hoped it hadn’t scared you off, but if it did, he understood. At the end of it he told you that they were starting to wrap up this deployment and while it could still take another month until he was back, the end was within reach. After receiving it you woke up everyday excited to see if today was the day. However, you didn’t feel disappointed when you returned home alone because that meant you were one day closer.

On the last Saturday of the fifth month, you arrived at work early in anticipation of a busy day. There was a lot that needed to be done and you didn’t want to be working on it while the breakfast rush was coming in. As expected, the diner filled up within an hour of being open and remained busy for most of the day. Thankful for the fall weather that had begun to come in, you opened the windows in the late afternoon to get some fresh air before remaking the coffee. With your back still turned to the door you heard the familiar chime of the bell alerting you to someone arriving.

“I’ll seat you in just a second!” You called out, focused on pouring fresh water into the coffee pot.

“That’s alright ma'am, I think I’ll sit at the counter if that’s alright. Just here for some fries,” a timid voice replied. 

You turned around to greet the man and there he stood, Lieutenant Robert Floyd in the same green flight suit you met him in nearly six months ago. He had a slight tan from the west coast sun and he looked tired, but it was him. You stared in disbelief, wondering if your eyes were playing tricks on you.

It took one of your favorite regulars yelling out, “Well honey, don’t just stand there, welcome the sailor home!” to snap you out of your trance.

You don’t remember where the mug you were holding went, all you could focus on was taking the five large steps across the outdated tile to be standing in front of him. Bob met you halfway and pulled you into a tight hug, his hand holding the back of your neck. You nuzzled your head into his shoulder and inhaled, trying to memorize the way this moment felt in every sense. The silence that had fallen over the diner was gradually replaced with the regular sounds of the dinner rush, but you don’t hear any of it. The only thing you could focus on was his heart beating, the sound grounding you to him. After a few moments, you removed your head from its spot and looked into his eyes. His watery blue eyes meet yours as the tears that had been collecting begin to descend down your cheeks. 

“Hey, hey, hey, no tears okay? I’m here, plus I brought something back for you,” he said as he moved his thumbs from the side of your face to wipe your tears. One hand unzipped the flight suit and the other reached into the breast pocket, pulling out the same silk ribbon you had given him. You were surprised at the condition. It was perfectly intact. He reached around your shoulders to tie your hair back with it, similar to how it was when he first got a glimpse of you. As you opened your mouth to ask how he kept it so nice, Melissa called out, “Alright kids, outta here, I’ll close up tonight.”

Before you could protest, Bob had your hand in his and was pulling you outside to where his truck was parked. As you reached the door he turned you, pressing your back against the warm metal and leaning down close, trying to judge your reaction. With a subtle nod, he closed the gap between the two of you for the first time. His lips were soft and you reached up to grab at the back of his neck..

He pulled away first. “It’s nice to have someone to come home to.”

Tagging: @skvatnavle @a-reader-and-a-writer @callsign-phoenix @wildbornsiren @hederasgarden