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#but its okay to reblog n such
reel-fear · 1 year
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👁️👁️
You must tell 👀
*rubs my little hands together* sorry for taking a bit on answering this! My brain has not been braining lately but your ask couldn't have come at a better time bc Grant has been on the mind as of late and I am hyped at the excuse to infodump abt him- [this is gonna be long I am so sorry-]
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now for quick disclaimers for anyone reading this that isnt the asker or me- we're not discussing canon Grant Cohen, we're talking my Grant, this black haired dude, that guy. Another fun disclaimer, I was HEAVILY, inspired by Grant's role/character in abomination for my Grant. Taking time to awknowledge every part of his character or story that was inspired by it would make this 10x longer so if similarities are spotted know its very likely I did that on purpose bc I just really love abomination KJHFSDGKJDHGSD-
Alright with that outta the way I'ma talk a lot abt what happens to Grant in the canon of Showtime to explain what I meant and also maybe a bit of me rambling about aus that explore Grants relationship with Sammy n Joey under a more romantic lens. Should be obvious but spoilers for It's Showtime down below~
So Grant in Showtime after he dies ends up joining the ink demon cult, becoming a lost one and earning the title of The Priest.
When the cult was all together him and Sammy worked together to run it. Sammy used his connection to the ink demon to recieve messages and learn more on how to survive in this new situation and Grant made sure the lost ones acted accordingly. [A role not so far off from the one he was forced to take when the studio started facing troubles before his death] Grant also took the job of dealing with sacrificing souls and sending them back to the dark puddles, which sometimes was members of the following chosen at random and sometimes whatever poor soul found themselves captured by them.
However when Malice rose from the puddles and made a deal with the Projectionist to seize a considerable amount of the studio as theirs, the cult was split up, Sammy and Jack forced to flee to the music department and Grant with the rest of the following being down in the area of Chapter 4. This put Grant in a very bad spot, the lost ones were very shaken by this event and since then Grant worries their faith in him has wavered.
An important thing with the ink demon cult was that it is meant to be a more realistic take on how a cult works. The Ink Demon runs the cult, he is the most powerful figure in it and yet the hardest to contact, so Grant and Sammy are little more than middlemen tasked with keeping things running or else they face the ink demon's wrath. Sammy is sadly very aware that the ink demon is not as benevolent as he or the lost ones would like the believe. Grant likes to think being the Priest will at the very least protect him if things go wrong, but he is sadly mistaken.
Grant is in a very dangerous spot, he knows the lost ones beneath him are getting angsty and worried about just how truthfully safe the cult is or if they should believe in the power of the ink demon. But he also knows if things fall apart the lost ones will come to tear him apart long before they go for the ink demon. Despite him merely being a puppet for their lord. A role Grant is not ready to acknowledge, not because he isn't smart enough to see he is just a pawn, but because he chooses not to think about it, less his paranoia eat him alive yet again... A very important thing to keep in mind with Grants character.
Grant did in fact play this role in life as well however, when things started going wrong in the studio, Joey was very quick to turn away from what was going on and continue asserting everything would be fine. Which while a lie he himself believed was a lie nonetheless. However Grant quickly became his right hand man as people like Thomas and Wally started noticing cracks forming all through out the studio. Staff going missing, the ink changing in the way it behaved and an eerie feeling the machine created in both of them.
Grant despite deep down being smart enough to know things were going poorly, parroted Joey's words, hanging off of them himself and doing whatever he could to shut down any attempts to bring to light the things going wrong. Of course, him and Joey both ended up paying the price for their lies, but so did everyone else around them. But unlike Sammy, Grant barely even seemed shaken to see that, like a conspiracy theorist seeing evidence their theory isn't true only makes them double down harder, Grant only seemed to double down on the idea that if he followed every order he was given. Surely things would turn out better this time.
So that's canon to the story of Showtime, but I do want to take a second to get some AU non canon ideas out of my brain centering around Grant and his relationship to both Joey n Sammy. In canon Grant's only romantic interest is Thomas, his literal husband and there is a lot of interesting conflict there, but I fucking love shipping so of course I have a million aus merely indulging in ships I think would also be interesting to explore in their own contexts. In this case, I'm gonna ramble a bit about Sammy x Grant and Grant x Joey and the interesting things I think there are to explore in their relationships in Showtime.
So you might've noticed that while not literally [as saying the ink demon is Joey in Showtime, while somewhat true, is not the entire truth of the situation and simplifies it quite a bit] Grant did end up following Joey to the grave... And then kept following him beyond it. Something that is objectively~ very queer of him.
There's just something so compelling about the idea of Grant yearning for Joey so much, being so close yet so far as his right hand man but not being brave enough to become his lover eventually drove Grant's love for Joey to become an outright obsession. The idea that Grant's feelings for Joey became so intense from how hard he pushed them down it blinded him from seeing the truth of the situation outside of the way Joey painted it. Then dying and his obsession turning into an outright worship of him.
The idea of Grant settling for just being Joey's favorite lackey, his most loyal pet and knowing that's his role but not caring bc at least it makes him stay by Joey's side. Ohh it's an interesting one to say the least. I even did a few sketches of them u can see-
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They are doomed by the narrative to me and have been on my mind a lot lately can ya tell? KJDHSFGKJHDFSGKJHDFGSD
However when it comes to Sammy and Grant, I think there is a lot of interesting potential between them too. After all they share being the Ink Demon's henchmen in all of this and to see them both come to terms with that and try to find comfort in each other is such a fun idea to me.
An au where they both decide to ditch the cult and the ink demon and on their own try to figure out what happened to Joey and how to fix things is very compelling to me. I could see their relationship starting out as doing all these things for each other under the excuse they just need comfort until it starts to turn to actual feelings for each other. Both of them coming to terms with the fact Joey was not in fact a perfect person and maybe didn't even know how bad things were getting deep down himself but also finally letting themselves hold him accountable for the lies he told... It's a very fun healing narrative and very in line with a lot of the themes It's Showtime deals with.
Either way, I just really love what I've done with Grant's character in It's Showtime, he's for sure one of the most fascinating to me and the themes his story explores are ones that are important to the story as a whole and by extension me. Umm this turned out very long but I hope u enjoyed the read! Tysm for the excuse to infodump abt him, I was itching for one as u can see KDJHGKJDHFGKJDHFGSD.
#ramblez#dont think Ill main tag this since its very rambley and contains spoilers for its showtime-#but its okay to reblog n such#esp since I dont care tooooo much for spoiling my own stories#for me my stories should hold up regardless of whether or not youre surprised by what happens in em#but if anyone does care abt spoiling Showtime for themselves if or when I make it an actual fan game/story#do beware of this post KDJHFSGKJFGHJSD#sammy x grant#grant x joey#grammy#death and taxes#Music Multiplied#I think those are the ship names?#mostly for blacklisting reasons on here but if I can feed those crackships at least a little with this rant hey good for them <3#anyways fun tag secrets Ill put some fun trivia abt my grant in here#he uses the tommy gun instead of alice in showtime its joeys gun but he has it after everything goes to crap he mostly only uses it#just to keep norman away from the cult tho just know he is armed and dangerous and feral and unhinged and-#the cages in the chapter 4 area are used by grant as punishment for those who speak out or for people who havent yet come around to#worshipping the ink demon. obviously people in cages take priority as sacrifice options#my grant might struggle from a paranoia disorder I based him more off my own expierences and a bit off of research on ppl with OCD#Im not confident enough in my understanding of OCD to diagnose him with it straight up but he does almost for sure struggle with some sort#of paranoia disorder#anyways thats it tyty for the ask again and sorry for writing#five hundred paragraphs in response-
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thunderstomm · 9 months
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Drawing all of brozone is deciding which one to make transgender
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loadinghellsing · 1 year
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you've said before that you see Alucard/Anderson's dynamic differently in each version of hellsing? I was curious if you'd share how you see them?
Yeah sure, why not!!!
HELLSING ULTIMATE - I really only ship Andercard in Hellsing Ultimate... because, well... more reasons then I can functionally phrase. They're the same person, they're each other's other half, they're soulmates, ext.
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the parallels, the symbolism, the acknowledgment, the respect, the care- *chef's kiss* there is simply so much to their dynamic that I can get lost in it for days. Correction- years.
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HELLSING GONZO - They hate eachother. With a passion. The amount of superiority complex they bark at eachother. And how upset the get when they lose?
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Yeah, there's nothing to structure fondness off spare having a challenge that feeds their own ego. (Additional Note: out of all versions of hellsing, this is the only one Anderson feels straight in.)
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HELLSING ABRIDGED - Bromance. Best bromance to ever bromance. Just two silly near 7ft goblins getting into chaos and raising hell "just because". Companion ship in shenanigans. Partners in crime, via being the other's crime. Integra and Maxwell shall never know peace again.
However, Andercard ship wise, they give me the vibe of this post;
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sluckythewizard · 5 months
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BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary
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"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.
Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.
One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.
Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.
The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.
Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?
A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.
But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.
As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.
The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.
Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.
"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.
"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.
But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.
"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.
"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."
Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.
"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?
Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...
"Hey, are you okay?"
The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.
"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.
But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?
The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.
The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.
"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"
"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.
The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.
It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.
Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.
Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"
Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.
"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"
"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.
"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.
"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."
"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.
While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.
"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.
The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.
The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.
A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.
That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.
The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.
Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.
It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.
It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.
Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?
The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.
"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.
Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.
Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.
He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.
Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.
A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.
It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.
Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.
Like a mouse to a snake.
This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.
The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?
Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.
His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.
A STARTLING RINGING;
Splits the moment,
Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,
As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.
Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.
"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"
Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.
Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.
"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"
Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.
"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.
Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .
As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.
The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.
"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.
"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."
The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.
"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."
"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.
He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.
#NO TAGS ON THIS ONE BC WELL. IM SHY. IM TAKING A BIG LEAP JUST BY ALLOWING U TO REBLOG THIS. IF IT BREAKS CONTAINMENT THATS UR FAULT.#i unfortunately suffer from the disease of 'i hate everything i write the day after i write it' BUT IM GETTING TREATED#I WILL NOT BE HAUNTED BY THIS WEAKNESS FOREVER. AND HEY LOOK THIS IS THE FIRST ACTUAL FIC BIT IVE EVER FINISHED..#ITS SOMETHING TO BE PROUD OF!! AND BY JOBE I WILL BE PROUD EVEN IF I HATE IT.#i dont always need to be the one who likes my art bc i know Someone out there will always enjoy it.#and to that someone i say: omg thankyou i LOOOOVEE YOUUUUUU!!!!!#JUST DELETED A WHOLE RAMBLE I JUST HAD ABT NERVOUS DISCLAIMERS FOR MY ART BUT I DONT NEED EM!!#GET CONFIDENT GET CONFIDENT GET CONFIDENT. ANYWAY. so emizel and soda huh#THEYRE SO CUTE TOGEEHTERRRR TEEHEHEHEHEEEE they are the homies that kiss eachother goodnight like CMON#but uhh so hey your bestest friend in da world just got turned into a freaky creature thing that eats ppl#ieah yknowthe guy that u care about alot that u had to watch get bled out by another freaky creature thing in an alleyway#yeaaah and you were super hurt and weak and stupid and u couldnt do jack nor shit to help him#what was i talking about again. RIGHT so hes even cooler now bc he cant die n hes super strong n his arms can be knives. sometimes.#but also he can eat people now. and sometimes he cant stop himself from eating people. and thats kinda scary. but in a cool way.#but also in a disturbing way. but also in an interesting way?but also in a freaky way.the feelings ARE MIXED!!!ATLEAST I THINK THEY WOULD B#okay again i havnt listened to the suckening ina bit. so its been a minute since i absorbed their personalities. i could be misreading or#misremembering or misconstruing or mischaracterizing or WHATEVER. i think the confusion carries its intended effect#LOSING MY TRAIN O THOUGHT. anyway i love soda n emizel i hope they get locked in a saw trap together or somethign. for enrichment.#TALOS GRANT ME THE STRENGHT TO POST MY CREATIONS ON LINE!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGHHH!!!!!!!
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joyfullyacat · 2 years
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Unordinarily Foolish
haha, don't hurt me, not beta'd it's another hurt no comfort - but this time no one dies! woo!! inspired by @gniteruirui 's animatic here (except then it spiraled way from that and im a little sorry-)
CW: so much self loathing, general heartbreak, pining when your heart wars with your brain, no happy ending word count: 2.7k
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You’ve hit rock bottom it felt like.
What respect did you have for yourself any more?
There’s been a pain, irate and grating on the nerves right in your sternum lately but it was better than feeling numb.
At least, you think it is.
You go years single without affection, you had your time to date and you took time away from the pool, you got your licks from it, you thought you learned all the lessons. 
Now look at you.
Unsteadily, your hands follow the curves and grooves of the toys you clean with wipes. Under here, around there, get into that crevice. Your thoughts travel and your eyes wander to the subject of those thoughts.
Sun is cackling with giggly kids hanging off every limb, clutching about his legs and wrapped about his arms. He’s carefree and radiant, in his element, there seems not to be a care in the world with him… And maybe that was what had you ensnared. You stare at the panel in the back of his neck that his jointed neck comes out of. A distinctly inhuman appearance to his otherwise human personality.
Just maybe, this is what kept you away. You were an ordinary fool with a silly heart but your brain was logical… Cruel but logical.
You were an ordinary fool with not so ordinary lessons to learn. Like how bad of an idea it is to be in love with something - someone incapable of feeling as you do with temperamental chemicals and functionalities that dictate every part of you from head to toe. Who won’t share the experiences of life with you like an ordinary couple.
What you had was not an ordinary love.
This was no ordinary circumstance.
When did you take his exuberant nature for something more than what it was? When did his crushing hugs of friendly greeting become something that stole your breath away - more than just physically. The nicknames too, the sunshines, dewdrops, and daydreams, every single one of them stuck into you and hid between your ribs, becoming new butterflies that’d flutter in your stomach haplessly against your will.
You have enough respect for him to not dump this onto him or his lunar counterpart, Moon. 
Oh yes, a counterpart. A double decker to your psyche, really.
To be in love with not one but two distinct personalities and individuals that weren’t even human. Who likely could not grasp the concept of love, it wasn’t something to be easily defined like happiness or sadness, it was muddled by every emotion and bolstered by them similarly.
This wasn’t including the fact that you were fleeting in their very, potentially eternal, lives.
This also wasn’t including the fact that at any moment, they could be torn in twain and scrapped against your wants to make new animatronics, better ones, new personalities. They wouldn’t remember you - even if they kept the same face.
It already happened once, after Sun and Moon were split into their own bodies.
Most of their memories outside of the employee data bank were lost. You were pretty much another face in the crowd to them.
You were happy to befriend them again - at the time that’s what they were. Friends.
Because denial is not just a river in Egypt and you were hopelessly flowing down it back then, oh it’s just a crush. Merely infatuation! They were new, exciting, interesting and human enough, but you know now.
No, you were utterly endeared and helpless to how your heart speeds up around them.
Well over a year later.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Moon approaching, slinking in the designated shadowy corners you created with well placed large plushies and decorative hangings.
The animatronic lifts a finger, pointing to what you’re doing unknowingly. “I think that toy is clean enough…” He speaks in his typical low grumble, a permanent growl to his voice that rattles in his chest. Something that comforted you in your lowest moments when he’d hug you on days of stress.
His words bring you back to the moment, looking from him then over to the poor anthropomorphic turtle figurine with colored bandana in your hand.
You had stripped some of the color from it. Faded smears of green staining the little white rag.
“Ah, yeah. It is…” You cough, setting the toy in with the others and picking up a sort of tubby looking unicorn toy with cheap white hair and a set of sparkles on its hind quarter.
“You’ve been spacy lately.”
Ah, he was always the more confrontational of the two. A trait you admired and feared. You thought you were confrontational once upon a time, then you met him. Then you learned how ham-fisted your emotions could be to you. Making you clam up entirely.
Both were observant, eventually a comment would be made on your actions lately, your behaviors. Whatever vitals they’ve been able to read from you.
Sun was far more subtle, much more rounded. Acting sort of as a bumper to your feelings with careful gestures and honeyed words that served to entrap you further, much to his unknowing warmth. Leaving you little sticky notes of well wishes that you’d save and so on.
You felt… Dirty, really. Dirty about it all. Guilty may be more apt. Taking their gifts of friendliness for your own selfish needs. To fuel fantasies of your own design.
A low timbre breaks you from your thoughts, “Starbright?”
Right. He’s still there.
Moon brought himself closer, even in that moment of thought. Just an arm’s length away, well for him anyway. You’d have to lean forward.
“Things have been… Going on is all, Moon. Sorry about that, I’ll pay for a replacement toy.” The funny turtle guys are usually stocked in toy aisles, it’d be easy to pick one up the next time you’re going out for the easiest and cheapest premade meals because you haven’t been able to bring yourself to cook properly otherwise lately.
He doesn’t look convinced, looking past you to something just over your head, probably over to Sun if you had any guess. The two had a way of communicating without necessarily having to be in speaking range of one another.
Likely some technological link.
You watch as he nods once... Twice... Three times before suddenly decisions are made.
“...Come on, you’re taking your break early.” Is all he says before you’re swept up with an arm around your shoulders, promptly escorted to a doorway tucked behind one of the play structures with quite the tall baby gate that keeps wandering tikes from going into it.
Also known as the way to their personal room that wasn’t through that funny hook system that made them “float” to the balcony.
You squirm and writhe against his hold, trying to dig your heels into the carpeted area with all your might but he practically picks you up in your struggles. “Ho-Hold on now, I didn’t agree to this-!”
“Don’t care…” He draws out in a mocking sing-song. “Attendant’s orders, we care for children, this includes adults who act like children.”
Was this how you lost what shred of dignity you had left? Cornered to fess up by your coworker and crush? Could you dumb it down, play it off as if it were nothing? Make up a story about something in your personal life going on?
…Better question, did you want to?
You wouldn’t get a better opportunity than this, even if you wanted to do it with both of them present at the same time. No having to repeat yourself and becoming mortified twice over if there is only one band-aid to rip off, after all.
Though that question was answered for you with the reveal of Sun awaiting you up the stairs, hands on his hips and leaning forward, primed up and ready to chastise you for your mistreatment of yourself.
Quickly, you try to find a way out of this impromptu grilling on your being, “I know you did not leave the kids unsupervised.” You point out stiffly, gesturing to the balcony that the solar-themed animatronic likely scaled.
“You are correct, I set up their nap hour! We are both capable of it… Remember I was doing it alone for a time!” He’s chirpy in his jest but distinctly, you feel that smile he can’t necessarily help is more sarcastic in this moment.
“So that leaves you alone with us - ideally uninterrupted with plenty of time to figure out what is wrong with you.” Moon elaborates simply, resting his arms over your head and leaning his weight into you comfortably.
A common way he liked to make fun of his height over you. 
“Mhm! So tell us, sweet sunshine, what’s been eating at you?” Sun holds his hands out to you in invitation, flexing his fingers once.
You don’t hesitate to take his hands into your own two, staring right into his daylight-bright eyes that’d somehow shine more when he was excited you noticed. You hoped they’d stay like that. You don’t ever want to see that light dimmed.
With a deep breath, you decide to take the leap.
“...What would your guy’s responses be if I said I liked you?”
The way Moon goes tense, able to tell even with the rigid, barely padded metal resting against you, has you worried.
Sun twitches in your hold, almost as if wanting to pull away, “Well… It depends in what way you mean by that!”
The animatronic above you doesn’t reply.
Well, here goes nothing for you. Maybe you can ask to be transferred to a different area. Does Bonnie Bowl need any sort of supervision? Children are in every corner of this place, surely someone good with kids would be good in just about any place…
How hard do you play this up… Pouring your heart out would dramatically be for the best you figure.
A little tap to your temple makes you jolt and you can only wish to be able to look up and glare at the attendant who radiates smugness over your head.
“I want to experience life with you in the long run. I want to feel your hands in my hair and I want to be able to care for you similarly, maybe I’d pick up sewing or something to make sure your things fit, I don’t know. I wish to teach you what lies beyond these walls I want you - both… You and…” You point to Moon above you. “I don’t think I could ever choose and risk separation or division. I know there are differences and I'm sorry to dump this all out, it's unwanted and complicating and-” At some point, you start to cry, your frantic blinking had only kept the tears at bay for so long and you couldn’t bow your head to hide the waterworks.
So you stared at Sun who looked to you with, you think, eyes that weren’t remotely as bright as they once were. You caused that.
The seeming pity you felt from them, the awkward, stoney silence.
Your love for them was theirs to keep, your heart would never be your own you think, not for some time. They could do as they wished with it, it was the only blessing you could give them. For them to know they were loved in that way, even if for them, it does nothing.
“...I’m sorry.” You apologize once more after a few moments of the deafening quiet that you couldn’t bear any longer. “I didn’t want to say anything, I was trying to keep it under wraps hoping it’d go away but it didn’t even when I took that - stupid long break using up all my vacation and sick days in one go-”
“Wait, that was why you left for a month?” Moon speaks up, interrupting you swiftly and flicking your temple soon after. “You’re unbelievable. See Sun, this is what I mean. They’re a big child.” 
He’s so huffy about it you can see the silent tapping of his slippered foot against the ground… Actually no, you hear it now. The little bell jingles and his pants sound with the movement.
“Mmm, yes. Yes they are.” Sun confirms with a nod.
You huff out something that you think was supposed to be laughter, “You two are not making me feel any better about this.”
“Because you’ve chewed yourself out thoroughly I think! We had to get you smiling somehow.” Sun releases one of your hands to poke at your nose. “I say we did good.”
Your now free hand automatically went to rubbing at your eyes to forcefully clear the remaining wetness away, using your knuckles and making your vision scramble momentarily. 
“This… Doesn’t give me your answer though.” “Because I’m afraid we don’t have one, Starlet. You’ve dreams and ambitions - but we don’t share them… Especially when it sounds like this like is more of a love, isn’t it?”
Moon has you pinned and you can only let your shoulders lower slowly, forcing down that sticky feeling in your throat, the ball that wants to come out in a sob. 
They didn’t need to be so gentle about it. You wanted them to… Mock you. Do something that’d make you view them at least - something less than pleasant?
Something less than the sweet as peach nature of Sun and the toying black cat nature that Moon possessed, endearing even if sometimes you wanted to take him by the waist and shake him from side to side.
“...I’m sorry.” Is all you say, again.
You’re not sure what this means for you and your friendship with them. Do they view you as silly? Hopeless? A daydreamer with too lofty ideas? Potentially, too idealistic? Romanticizing what wasn’t there? 
“There is no need for an apology, really…” Sun soothes, hushing you when you went to apologize a third time with a press of his finger to your upper lip. “I think you knew our answer to begin with, somewhere in you, didn’t you?”
You did. The one your brain would tell you whenever your thoughts went down the rabbit hole of what-ifs and possibilities. 
After all, they were made with a purpose in mind. Artificial in design, they had their directive, and you were not part of it. They were in love with their duty, their charges, adoring the children they take care of and see grow with each visit. They were caretakers first and individuals second.
You want to find an end to this conversation, a solid conclusion, something of change, meaningful and positive and before you can broach the topic of how this should go on, the sound of a child crying echoes through the dying conversation, silencing it fully.
A part of you laughs deep down at the comical way the two attendants shoot-up like dogs catching the movement of a squirrel. Another part of you cries and laments at their presence leaving yours, the bubble thoroughly popped as arms drop from your head.
Not a moment of goodbye, not a note of continuing this later. They go over to the balcony.
“Oh ho ho! It seems we are up and shining already! Rise and shine from the clouds, who’s ready for snacks?! I say we have little apple bunnies!” Sun cries out with all his joyousness coming out in full force as he launches himself over the railing with a dive.
Moon only spares you a glance, giving you a simple two-finger salute with minimal words before his departure. “Go home.”
The moment he’s over that rail is the moment you feel the urge to keel over and curl up. You feel you screwed that over spectacularly.
This was never so painful, this was never such an agony. Never did feeling love make you feel like such a wretch of an individual. Like an utter bother.
But you go home as instructed. A quick text sent to your coworkers and a brief, phony explanation to the security guard stationed at the front how you sicked up in the bathrooms and wasn’t sure if it was contagious, and you’re out of there.
The rest of the day that’d serve as your shift, you spend staring blankly into nothingness while going about chores you neglected previously due to your shifts and emotional turmoil that left you unwilling to move once you got home.
Anything for normalcy.
Anything to not feel useless. 
Even got to cleaning your bedroom, sorting your messes and putting things where they belonged - briefly you feel accomplished.
You go into your prettily made bed at an hour that’d surely give you a sneer and a direct order to nap by Moon. The sun is kissing the horizon and the inky blackness of the sky, making way for heartwarming pinks that bleed to oranges and purples.
All you feel is cold however.
A meager handful of hours later and you wake up just a bit before your alarm is supposed to go off, to your phone chiming with a text.
…A text.
From your manager.
No email, nothing professional, no official slip of paper.
Hey, sorry to hear you aren’t feeling well, I hope it was just something bad you ate and not an actual issue since you don’t have sick days but, hey, you’ve been moved stations. Effective immediately and all that.
The arcade with DJ Music Man is pretty cool, you’ll do just fine there, you may have to learn some basic engineering and wire tampering though.
Your throat hurts from the wail that falls from you. Miserable and broken.
Desperately, your brain tugs at you. It tugs at your heart. That these tears aren’t needed, you’ve cried, this was for the best. You could heal from this, it wasn’t a break up. You still have your job, there are brightsides to this, that change was good.
All your heart could pound about was that you weren’t wanted anymore.
Unloveable. 
Foolish.
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cat-dragron · 28 days
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Now that episode 8 is out o have to make that Murder Drones video essay holy shit.
Like from the overall character arcs to the music and it's leit motifs to the use of color there is just so much I would love to talk about honestly!!!
God im so glad that a show like this got to exist and he made.
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bibiscate · 1 year
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what if what if I make a fnaf sb jurassic park AU? then what? what you gonna do what if freddy was a fucking t-rex?? then what??? what if IF it was focused in sun AND moon because of course it is what if fucking t-rex freddy fucking adoted!!!! adoted a random child!!! that got lost during the island evacuation like inthe movies what would you think??? if the kid was gregory??
what if that fnaf sb jurassic park/world AU was complete self-indulgence nonsense bullshit?? would you see me with different eyes?? would you look at me the same way? or you would enjoy watching me suffer in hell the same way the velociraptors enjoyed chasing those kids??
what if it was a fucking y/n protagonist huh?? HUH??? and they dated the fucking dino daycare attedant (they show the kids the baby dinos lol) and??? and then what??
what what if I told YOU I thought about that AU more times than I thought about my my exam week (this week)
what if the lil music man were lil compys?? those baby eaters?? what if y/n and eclipse kissed during the dinos final fight?
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paperhandsexe · 1 year
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mcdbutgay · 2 years
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mcd aaron as a character frustrates me SO MUCH BC HES A GOOD CHARACTER IN THEORY BUT KNOWING HOW HE ENDS UP,,, WHAT HE ENDS UP BEING IS SO AHGHHH
i REALLY hate how they dumb down the characters in mystreet, like. i understand that mystreet is SUPPOSED to be a lihht hearted slice of life (at least, at the beginning. i don’t even wanna TOUCH myst s4-6) but REGARDLESS THE FACT THAT SO MANY CHARACTERS GET DUMBED DOWN IS SO FRUSTRATING BC THEYRE SO GOOD IN MCD.
katelyn, garroth, laurance, aaron,, aaron is especially frustrating bc i REALLY don’t like aarmau. i never have, and the fact that it essentially DOMINATES mcd/myst at a certain point is annoying. also the fact that he’s so mysterious and cryptic in mcd is SO COOL but then he only turns out to be some guy. GOD. i hate this stupid show.
then again i am only going off of what i remember, which is from when the episodes originally came out YEARS ago. i could toootally be wrong about a lot of stuff since im nowhere NEAR being done with mcd but still its nice to vent (currently on s2 ep24 as of me writing this)
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I've found it.
I've found the original Edgeshot backstory headcanon summary post I made back at the start of my blog......
The beginning of many things, headcanons and friendships.....
*wipes away tear dramatically*
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sokkagatekeeper · 2 years
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do you not think mai is that great? /gen
lol it was about jet not mai
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reel-fear · 6 months
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Honestly, every single time the whole 'poppy playtime is a bendy rip-off' stuff ever shows up I find it all extremely unconvincing and silly.
For one thing, rip-off usually is meant to imply that it's a cheap lazy copy of a better more polished thing, and uh. Sorry but even from chapter 1? Poppy Playtime is a better game than Bendy, it has a simple but understandable story, the game manages to be thrilling, creepy, and very intense at times... I mean that Huggy chase in the vents ALONE puts it way above Batim for me.
I mean BATDR had the most slow stupid chase I've ever seen [and every other encounter with the ink demon is text telling u he's there and then a timer goes down and u get jumpscared] and batim's chases were either silly or just not nearly as theatric or terrifying as that.
When making the vent sequence I mean not only is it absolutely horrifying to realize how fast Huggy is in there but also it's so theatric and cool? The fact that you round a corner after thinking you escaped only to see a terrifying animation of that thing crawling toward you is awesome! I wish Bendy had stuff like that!
And all the stuff it shares with Bendy are generic things Bendy ripped from other horror games/media anyways. I'm not saying Poppy Playtime isn't inspired by Bendy I for sure think it is but Bendy is such a generic story that somehow fails to do tropes 100 other horror games have done any comparison only makes Poppy Playtime look better.
"It has employees being sacrificed for their company" That is not a concept Bendy invented, literally look at any of the sci-fi horror series Bendy is very inspired by. This is literally a twist in the original Alien.
"It has a scary woman forcing you to do tasks for her" Once again, not a concept Bendy invented, a scary mysterious person forcing you to do fetch-quests is a concept found in tons of horror media. And at least Poppy Playtime gave you a chase with her and let you defeat her, look at poor malice. She's barely on screen for more than 10 minutes before she gets stabbed.
"It has a cult worshipping the monster" This is something tons of horror games and media have done too. I mean In The Tall Grass has a guy who worships a giant magical rock in the middle of a grass maze, Bioshock [which Bendy has only been taking more and more direct inspiration from while failing to grab any of the compelling parts] also had a lot of themes of religion and cult-ish behavior, almost every horror media franchise has at one point done a cult thing.
Bendy couldn't even come up with a reason Sammy worships the ink demon, the best motivation we've ever gotten is just that 'he's crazzyyyy the ink made him insaneeee'. Who is the cheap rip-off here?
At least Poppy Playtime gave their cultist a motive for worshipping the monster + a proper boss fight that feels intense and looks awesome! Bendy didn't even let you kill Malice [she got stabbed in front of you and then just collapsed on the floor how thrilling] meanwhile you get to kill three of the villains in Poppy Playtime and the gameplay and action in those scenes have only gotten better as the game went on.
I mean Sammy walks into a room and goes "AAA SCARY I'M BEING MURDERED" then later shows up and for NO REASON sees a normal human man and assumes it's the ink demon before once again someone else kills him for you. In Poppy Playtime you defeat Catnap as he floods the world with this horrible nightmare-inducing gas that intensifies the color palette and his design. Fight off versions of him that are illusions that you need your flare gun for, then watch in a wonderful animation as he mistakes the monster for his savior before getting killed by it, in a brutal way I might add, which game are we accusing of being cheap, lazy garbage again?
I just find this argument to be people who Really Really need to find a reason to hate Poppy Playtime which I think is silly. The devs being weird, shady people is already enough reason to dislike the game, you don't need to invent reasons why secretly every part of the game is malicious or bad. But esp when I see Bendy fans saying they don't support Poppy Playtime or dislike it bc of its devs or even saying its cringe ummmm.
I have bad news about the fact Bendy's devs are worse and it took not one, but TWO over an hour long videos to cover it all. Plus the Bendy games are just the worse games in every aspect, if I could sell my batim copy for a copy of Poppy Playtime I wouldn't hesitate at all.
Saying this as a bendy fan, we have no right to be super judgy towards Poppy Playtime. If Poppy Playtime is embarrassing cringe, Bendy is too and is way more embarrassing of an interest. We shouldn't spread misinformation just because we all want to hate Poppy Playtime, you can dislike Poppy Playtime without making up a bunch of nonsense to justify it.
Honestly seeing people just blatantly be unfairly mean to Poppy Playtime only makes its critics look worse and makes it hard to take any backlash to the games seriously. Because surprise surprise if you spread misinformation to make a point people will quickly stop listening to Anything you have to say bc they won't trust you're telling the truth anymore.
#feel free to reblog but Im not gonna tag this its way too rambley at least for my taste to go in the main tags#ramblez#also man can I say I didnt want to make this post super long but theres so many other points I could make in poppys favor#the fact we got to see the hour of joy and it was terrifying we dont even know if joey actually killed anyone anymore#the gameplay itself is more diverse and fun then batim which is a walking simulator that pretends to have fighting n stealth mechanics#at least Poppy n Missys friendship gives u a reason to care for missys safety before shes put in danger#Missy can actually express unlike Boris who sits there looking cute with no proper expressions until he gets yoinked and ur supposed to car#bc he was uh adorable? And therefore you spend an entire chapter tryna get him and get an extremely bad boss fight in return-#also soundtrack wise I like poppys tracks more theyre unique and fun and you can tell which part of the game they come from#bendy has so many dramatic reveal stingers and tracks that are really hard to tell which part of the game they come from#bertrums boss fight has my favorite theme bc its so specifically crafted for him and unique and meanwhile Norman has one of the worst imo#a lot of Bendys soundtrack if I played it for you right now it would be hard to guess where its from bc it all kinda sounds the same#the reveal music for the machine for bendy land for heavenly toys for alices domain all sound the same x_x#its just so frustrating but yeah my point is can we all stop making up new reasons to shit on poppy playtime its just kinda dumb#it feels less like actual criticism and at this point just feels like elaborate justification for cringe culture which I hate#okay thats it bye sorry this is 10 pages long-
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selffagellation · 2 years
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There needs to be a word for stuff that wasn't traumatic but still impacted your life in a negative way and continues to shape your assumptions about things. Like I remember having a fuckton of car problems when I was a kid, everything kept breaking and we were in and out of auto repair places constantly and like, it kind of taught me how to think about cars. I don't DO preventative maintenance because it's at a regular oil change that they tell you "oh also you need to replace the whole fucking engine, that'll be ten bajillion dollars" so it's better to just. Keep driving until the car physically breaks down. Having shitty cars as a kid isn't TRAUMA, its just a vaguely annoying thing that happened and I still can't shake those assumptions. There needs to be a word for that
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jimmyclueless · 3 months
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Hello 👋 🤗,
I hope you are well 🌺.
I am writing to you with a heart full of hope and faith, asking for your urgent help. My family is in great danger due to the war, and I am running a fundraising campaign to save them.
Please, could you reblog the post about my campaign on my account? Every share can make a difference in my family's life. 🙏
Note:My old Tumblr account was deactivated💔, and I need your support again♥️.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for any help you can provide. 🌹🌺
hello!
i try to avoid any potentially stressful things on this blog, since i have nothing to donate and hate the guilt of being unable to help.
this is the link to the gofundme, and its been vetted plenty,by what i saw. im glad youre getting closer to your goal and wish you safety and fortune going forward.
#asks#donation#i ma not going to make a habit of reblogging these things since i have so few followers and the only good i think this does#is take a moment to show where i stand(people should not be killed en masse)#anyways. i tried to donate a few times but it refused-my only guess as to why would be a currency uh transfer issue? would you happne#to have any alternate payment methods outside of gofundme? i have like 10 usd in my spendings i can try to give#jts not much but it can help add up i hope .#but . to anyone who is reading this i assume that if you could donate you probably have and if you cant then theres no point in just . guilt#it doesnt make things better to hate yourself for not being able to fix thhings so dont worry .#itll all be ok in the end so if its not ok its not the end <-only thing keeping me going some days</3#hopefully some day youll get to the point you have the opportunity to help others . whether that be disposable income#or a moment in time you can offer .whatever . if that time isnt now thats fine itll come eventually so just keep going#any ways . i just dont like people feeling guilty for something they cant change or didnt choose. its not ur fault#n as long as you choose to help when u can thats the thing that defines you and the thing that matters#(this would have gone on my sb for these kinds of things since they stress me out to no end but since the ask was sent here#thats where its gonna end up ig</3)#hope everyone has a good day or moment . if not now then soon . just to take a moment and breathe and feel okay#that would be nice
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ja3yun · 15 days
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In Safe Hands
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roommate!heejake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, dom!heeseung, softdom!jake (kinda), oral (m&f. rec), fingering, double pen, anal, squirting, mentions of choking, slapping (twice, not hard), spanking, spit, pet names (angel, sweetheart, slut), pure filth, heejake eat reader out at the same time but that's about as mlm as it gets, not proof read, anything else lmk. w.c: 19.6k synopsis: your brother, sunghoon, has left you in the safe hands of his two best friends. little does he know that those 'safe' hands are about to be all over you. a/n: hi! okay this is pure smut, like basically a pwp atp. my beautiful bestie ruby @dollyyun, this one is for you! i wrote this entirely for all your horn needs <3 i hope you love it! as always, comments, reblogs, etc etc are all welcome! this isn't something i usually do but for ruby i will.
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With a grunt of effort, your older brother hoists your bulky box of unread books up the narrow staircase, muscles straining against the weight. His face is set in a grimace, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he curses under his breath. “Why the hell did she pack so many books?” he mutters, breathless. 
He knows he should be cursing his friends more than the weight of your belongings - they’re the ones who thought living on the top floor of a six-story building with no elevator was a brilliant idea. Then again, he should probably be cursing himself the most. It was his bright idea to suggest that you temporarily move in with his best friends Jake and Heeseung.
You and your brother, Sunghoon, are finally moving out of your parents' house. The desire for freedom, for space that doesn’t involve the relentless noise of your four younger siblings, has been simmering for years. At first, Sunghoon planned to move out alone, excited to claim his independence and a taste of solitude. But you weren’t about to let him escape so easily. You pleaded, over and over, wearing him down with promises that you wouldn’t be a burden, that you’d pay your share of the rent on time without fail, and that he’d barely even notice you were there.
And because Sunghoon has a massive soft spot for you, it wasn’t long before he caved. 
But your earnest pleas and big doe eyes have created a bit of a problem. The one-bedroom flat Sunghoon initially secured for himself was definitely not equipped to house both of you. With no other option but to look for a larger place, Sunghoon is forced to start scouring the rental market again. Meanwhile, your parents, seizing the opportunity, quickly repurposed your old rooms. His room became your youngest brother’s new, much-coveted space, and yours was transformed into your mom’s long-awaited home office. The message was clear: they loved you both, but they were more than ready to reclaim their home. It was as if they were holding open the door with one hand and pushing you through it with the other. They wanted you out as badly as you wanted to leave.
The bond between you and Sunghoon has always been unbreakable. As the two eldest in a large family, you’ve naturally gravitated towards each other for support.
At 22, Sunghoon has always taken on the protective role, while you, at 20, have been his closest companion. With your other siblings much younger - at least a seven-year age gap between them and the two of you - there were countless moments when it felt like it was just the two of you against the world. The late-night talks, the inside jokes, the shared burden of babysitting - those memories have created an unspoken understanding that makes living together now seem natural, almost like slipping into a familiar rhythm.
And that’s how you’ve ended up here, in Sunghoon’s best friend’s tiny flat, your temporary refuge until Sunghoon manages to secure a new lease on a place that can fit you both. The apartment, perched at the very top of a creaking, century-old building, is barely big enough for its current occupants, let alone one more, but they insisted on helping. 
Since this living arrangement is only temporary, there’s no point in unpacking your belongings just to repack them again in a few weeks. The result is a cramped, cluttered mess; the room looks more like a makeshift warehouse than a living space. Yet, neither of the boys seems particularly disgruntled by the chaos. If anything, they look almost amused as they manoeuvre around the piles of boxes.
Finally reaching the top of the stairs, Sunghoon stumbles into the flat, his breath ragged and his legs burning from the climb. He barely manages to get the door open before letting the heavy box of books drop at his feet with a dull thud. He bends forward, resting his hands on his knees as he takes a moment to catch his breath, sweat trickling down his temples.
His eyes scan the small living room, which is already in disarray. Jake and Heeseung are busy shifting their couch and other furniture around, trying to carve out a space for the mountain of boxes that have taken over their home.
“Thanks for letting her stay here, guys. I know it’s a big ask,” Sunghoon huffs out his appreciation, still slightly breathless. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and carefully climbs over a few stacked boxes to get closer to them. There’s sincerity in his voice, a touch of guilt too, knowing that his sister’s sudden arrival will most likely cause a tear in their normal routines.
Jake’s face lights up with his trademark bright smile, his eyes crinkling into happy crescents. He waves a hand dismissively as if brushing away any notion of inconvenience. “It’s no worries,” he replies, his tone warm and reassuring. “She’s always fun to have around.” His voice is genuine, and there’s a glimmer of fondness in his eyes. It’s clear he means it, and it’s enough to ease some of the tension in Sunghoon’s shoulders.
Heeseung, who has been busy adjusting a leaning bookshelf against the wall, turns to face Sunghoon, a small grin upturning his lips. “You sure you don’t wanna stay here too?” he teases, tossing a can of beer toward Sunghoon in a slow, lazy arc.
Catching the can, Sunghoon replies with a soft chuckle, his fingers curling around the cold metal. He presses it against his cheek for a moment, savouring the coolness before cracking it open. “Nah, I’ve got Mars to crash with,” he replies, his voice softening slightly at the mention of his girlfriend’s name. While your only option was his friends’ crowded flat, he had a much more appealing alternative in his girlfriend’s place.
Jake’s laugh breaks the brief silence, a low and knowing chuckle that causes his shoulders to shake. “To fuck, you mean?” he quips, raising a single eyebrow with a playful smirk tugging at his lips. 
The boy shrugs and takes a long gulp of his beer, giving an unrepentant gesture. "Either way, it's a bed, isn't it?" he replies, his mouth twisting into a relaxed grin. "Plus, I don't really want Y/N to hear me shaking the house, if you know what I mean.." His tone of voice is light, playful, yet his eyes are filled with slight horror at the thought.
He loves you - he truly does - but he and Mars seldom have undisturbed time together, and the idea of enjoying a few weeks without frequent interruptions is too appealing to pass up. The thought of you crashing on a mattress in the living room while her bedframe taps repeatedly against the wall makes him quiver. That’s a level of sibling intimacy he’s sure neither of you wants to reach.
“Oh, so you’re alright with her hearing us?” Jake's eyes gleam with mischief, clearly enjoying how easily he can rile up his friend. He leans back against the arm of the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for the inevitable comeback.
Setting his beer down, Sunghoon turns to face him fully, his expression suddenly serious. “As long as you keep it to her hearing it and nothing else,” he replies sharply, his voice carrying a warning edge. The room falls into a brief, awkward silence that Jake breaks with a chuckle, amused by Sunghoon’s protective streak. But Sunghoon’s gaze doesn’t waver, and he leans forward, his voice dropping to a low tone. “I’m serious. If either of you so much as touch her, I will personally saw your cocks off with rocks.”
Jake’s laugh dies in his throat, replaced by a wary smile. He exchanges a glance with Heeseung, who gives him a knowing look, a silent conversation between them before collecting themselves. 
“You don’t have anything to worry about,” Heeseung reassures him, his voice calm and measured. “Y/N’s a good girl anyway.” He nods as he speaks, trying to diffuse the tension but a flicker of spark as he calls you a good girl flashes in his iris’. 
“Yeah, she knows better than to jump on Hee’s infested cock,” Jake quips with a smart-ass grin, dispelling the weird aura that this conversation has brought between the three of them. The words spill out effortlessly, taking jabs at his best friend comes so naturally, and Heeseung’s face twists in sarcastic offence.
“At least girls wanna fuck me, huh, Mister ‘it’s been three weeks’,” Heeseung shoots back without missing a beat, his voice dripping with mock pity. He leans closer to Jake, nudging him playfully with his elbow. The banter between them escalates, their voices overlapping as they trade jabs like two kids in a schoolyard. The energy in the room is electric, charged with the sort of camaraderie that comes from knowing exactly how to push each other’s buttons.
“Shut the fu-” 
“Guys, both of you shut up.” Sunghoon’s tone is commanding, the kind of no-nonsense voice that instantly demands attention as he cuts through their back-and-forth nips. Jake and Heeseung fall silent, their grins fading as they see his serious gaze. “I’m serious. No touching my sister,” Sunghoon continues, each word deliberate and heavy. “End of story.”
Jake and Heeseung exchange a quick look, and like schoolchildren caught red-handed, they nod in unison, their earlier bravado slipping away. “Alright, alright, we get it,” Jake finally says, raising his hands in surrender, a sheepish smile creeping back onto his face. “Message received, man.” 
Heeseung doesn’t say a word, instead looking down, his mind deep in contemplation as he bites his lip.
Sunghoon watches them for a moment longer, his stare sharp and unwavering, before he finally relaxes, picking up his beer again. He takes a long, slow sip, letting the cool liquid soothe the heat still coursing through his body. “Good,” he mutters, but there’s a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his lips now. “Just making sure.”
Your footsteps echo in the narrow corridor as you trudge up the stairs, carrying a small box that is featherweight compared to the heavy one your brother had just hauled up not five minutes ago. As you step inside, Jake spots you and immediately rushes over, kicking some stray bags out of your path to clear the way. “Watch yourself, pretty,” he says with a playful grin.
“Thank you, Jaeyun,” you reply with a smile, your tone warm and appreciative. His use of the sudden nickname causes a faint blush to creep up your cheeks, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You’re used to Jake’s harmless flirting, it’s just part of who he is, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t catch you off guard from time to time. There's always a momentary flutter in your chest whenever he turns that easy charm on you, and this time is no different. 
As you hand the box over to him, your fingers graze his, a brief touch that sends a spark through your skin but you quickly shake it off, stepping away from him as he stacks the box on top of others.
You take a moment to survey your surroundings. Though you’ve been in this flat more times than you have fingers, the knowledge that it’s now going to be your home for the next few weeks makes you see it from a completely different perspective. 
The guys have definitely made an effort to clean; the place looks more put together than usual if you take away your abundance of bags and boxes, but there’s a strange vibe hanging in the air. It's an odd mix of familiarity and uncertainty. You’ve only ever been here as a guest, mostly to watch movies with your brother, his girlfriend, and the two tenants. But now, you’ll be doing everything here - sleeping, showering, studying - things you never imagined doing under this roof.
It doesn’t help that you wouldn’t exactly call yourself close with both of them, well, with Jake, maybe you could consider yourselves friendly. He always goes out of his way to make you feel welcome whenever you visit. If you need an extra blanket, he’s there with one almost before you can ask. If you’re in the mood for tea or coffee, Jake seems to magically appear with a steaming mug in hand. There’s a warmth to him, a natural generosity that makes you feel at ease, even if he turns the situation horny in 0.2 seconds. He's got a knack for toeing the line between friendly and flirty, but somehow it never crosses into uncomfortable territory. Instead, it just makes the atmosphere a little lighter, a little more fun.
Heeseung, on the other hand, is a bit more of a mystery. He’s always been somewhat reserved around you, distant even. Not cold, exactly, but certainly not as openly friendly as Jake. You’ve never taken it personally, though. You know he isn’t the type to shower people with affection or heap on praise. He’s more of an observer, the kind who stands on the outskirts of the chaos, quietly taking it all in rather than diving into the fray. There’s a calmness to him that can feel almost intimidating, but there’s also a sense of steadiness that you find strangely comforting. Still, the idea of sharing a space with someone who keeps to himself so much leaves you wondering how the dynamics might shift now that you’ll be living under the same roof.
“You got many more bags?” Heeseung asks, his voice carrying curiosity as he glances over at you.
“Uh, two more?” you reply, slightly sheepish.
Sunghoon sighs, clearly exasperated. “I told you to pack light for now,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair in frustration. To be fair, you might have overpacked just a smidge and not listened to him when he told you to only bring necessary things with you to the new house and toss out the rest, but the last thing you want is to be caught without something important - hence the extra bags.
“It’s okay, I’ll get them,” Heeseung offers, his tone matter-of-fact.
“I can help,” you quickly volunteer, not wanting to seem like a burden, but he simply shakes his head, already turning toward the stairs. Without another word, he jogs down the steps to retrieve the remaining bags, his long strides making quick work of the descent. You watch him go, a grateful smile tugging at your lips because you know for a fact that those last two bags are the heaviest - you probably should have told him that.
As you stand there, Jake drapes an arm over your shoulder and pulls you into his side, his touch light but familiar. “We’ll have the best time, huh?” he says with a grin, his voice full of easy confidence.
You look up at him, matching his smile as you offer him a half-hug in return. “For sure,” you reply, feeling a bit of your earlier anxiety melt away. Jake has always had a way of making you feel at ease, his energy infectious in the best possible way.
Sunghoon, however, can’t help but notice the physical contact, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches Jake’s arm around you. He doesn’t say anything, though; he knows Jake well enough to understand that this kind of skinship is just part of who he is. Too many times has Sunghoon been on the receiving end of Jake’s clinginess, so he lets it slide, albeit with a small sigh of resignation.
A moment later, Heeseung appears at the bottom of the final flight of stairs, grunting softly as he makes his way back up, each step slow and deliberate under the weight of your bags. His muscles strain visibly beneath his t-shirt, the fabric stretching tight across his shoulders and arms. “Did you pack a dead body in here?” he huffs, finally reaching the top and setting the bags down with a heavy thud. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he catches his breath, his lean, strong frame clearly pushed to its limits by the sheer weight.
Even as he exhales, his muscles begin to relax, but your eyes are drawn to the way the veins still protrude along his forearms, winding like thick cords beneath his skin. His biceps, now flexed from the exertion, stand out in sharp relief, the definition in his arms a testament to his strength. It’s clear that Heeseung is no stranger to physical labour - his body is built for it - but even he seems momentarily winded by the effort, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his brow.
You aren’t oblivious to how attractive Heeseung is, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. Ever since Sunghoon first introduced you to his friends, you’ve been aware of the magnetic pull both of them seem to have on you. And honestly, who wouldn’t feel that way? Jake, with his effortless charm and eyes so dreamy they could melt stone, has a way of drawing you in without even trying. 
Then there’s Heeseung - tall and broad, with a quiet confidence that radiates off him in waves. His smile, rare as it is, sends your heart into a wild spin whenever you’re lucky enough to see it. There’s something about his reserved nature, the way he watches the room with those sharp eyes, that makes him even more intriguing.
As he straightens up, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension, there’s a brief moment where you catch yourself staring, fascinated by the raw power in his frame but the slight cracks from his shoulders speak volumes, and you can’t help but feel a pang of guilt for making him carry such a heavy load.
“Thanks, Heeseung,” you murmur, your voice sincere as you meet his eyes, hoping to convey just how much you appreciate his help. He simply nods, brushing it off as no big deal, and there’s a slight, almost imperceptible smile at the corner of his mouth.
Bending down, you reach for one of the bags to help out, wanting to ease some of the burden. But before you can get a grip on it, Jake swoops in and grabs it first. You watch as he lifts it, his arm muscles flexing with the effort. You can see him struggle with the weight, his smile faltering for just a second but Jake being Jake, tries to play it off with his usual nonchalance, shrugging the bag over his shoulder and grabbing the handle of the other one. 
“If you take the other handle, you can help me carry it and I’ll show you to your room,” he says, flashing you that familiar grin that always seems to promise mischief and fun.
You smile back and nod, stepping in to grab the other handle. The two of you share the load and together, you manoeuvre down the narrow hallway, leaving Sunghoon and Heeseung behind.
With your back turned you miss the subtle flicker of annoyance that crosses Heeseung’s face as he watches you giggle over something Jake just said. His jaw tightens, and he shifts his weight slightly, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before turning away. There’s something unreadable in his gaze, a mix of frustration and something else.
Sunghoon, however, catches the change in his friend’s expression. Turning to Heeseung, he looks dead serious, his usual relaxed demeanour replaced with a steely resolve. “Look after her, yeah?” he says, his voice low but firm. “I trust you more than Jake with this, don’t do something stupid.”
Your brother isn’t distrusting of Jake, but you’re easily swayed and Jake has a smooth tongue, he can’t help but imagine the two of you under the same roof and what could happen. And Heeseung, even if that look gave Sunghoon a reason to be concerned, would know better than to touch you.
“Don’t worry,” Heeseung replies, his voice steady. “She’s in safe hands.” There’s a weight behind his words, something that Sunghoon misses entirely.
It’s not Jake he should be worried about.
_____
The past three weeks have been nothing short of incredible. The newfound freedom from your parents has made you feel like a new person. There’s a weight lifted off your shoulders that you hadn’t realised was there until it was gone. 
Living with Jake and Heeseung has been refreshing; they respect your privacy in a way that you’re not used to. They don’t bombard you with a million questions about where you’ve been or why you’re going out at odd hours of the night, unlike your parents, who seem to hover over your every move, they trust you to make your own choices. 
Jake, in particular, brings a lightness to the flat that you’ve grown to adore. His infectious humour seems to brighten up even the dullest of days. He has a way of pulling you out of your shell with his playful teasing and silly antics. But then, there’s his flirting - relentless and almost too easy. It’s always just on the line of being harmless fun, but lately, you’ve noticed your chest fluttering whenever he’s around. Like the time he’d cornered you in the kitchen, grinning as he leaned in close under the pretence of grabbing something from the cabinet behind you. Or that morning when he "accidentally" walked into your room while you were changing, only to stand there gawking at your tits before insisting on making you breakfast to make up for it. You’ve tried to play it cool, but his attention has started to make your heart race, and you can’t help but wonder if he notices.
Heeseung, however, is a different story. While he has been welcoming enough, there’s a strange awkwardness between you two that you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s not that he’s unfriendly or cold, just...distant. You’ve racked your brain trying to figure out why. There’s no clear reason for it, so you’ve concluded that it’s probably because you’re invading his space. After all, the idea of doing Sunghoon a favour by letting his little sister crash here is probably better in theory than in practice. 
You’re aware that Heeseung’s never lived with a girl before; maybe it’s just a bit of an adjustment for him. Perhaps he’s not used to the softer touches around the flat, like your skincare bottles lining the bathroom shelf or your fluffy slippers by the door. So, you’ve been careful to keep your distance, to not get in his way or make him feel uncomfortable. The last thing you want is to be a bother to him when he’s being so kind and giving up his own room for you, sharing a bedroom with Jake to accommodate your presence.
On Thursday evening, you come home from your shift at the cafe, tired but content. As you slip off your shoes, you notice only one other pair at the door. That’s strange, by this time, both Jake and Heeseung are usually back home, lounging around or playing video games. 
Turning the corner, your breath catches in your throat. Heeseung is there, sitting on the edge of the couch, dressed in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His chest is bare, revealing a toned, lean physique that you hadn't seen up close before. His skin is tanned and smooth, glistening slightly because he’s just stepped out of the shower. 
Your eyes trace the faint lines of his abs, the way they ripple subtly as he moves. Below his navel, a small trail of hair disappears beneath the waistband of his joggers, and you find yourself staring for a moment longer than you should, teeth instinctively biting the skin of your bottom lip. The sight is unexpectedly intimate, almost like you’ve walked in on something private, and your cheeks heat up with a mixture of embarrassment and something else you can’t quite name, or rather, simply don’t wish to acknowledge.
“Hey,” his voice is gruff, indicating that he hasn’t spoken in a while. His tone is low, almost raspy, sending a small shiver down your spine. He runs his fingers through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and his eyes stay fixed on you, waiting. “How was work?”
Heeseung doesn’t seem to notice you at first, busy towelling off his damp pink hair, but when he looks up and catches your eye, there’s a brief flash of surprise on his face.
For a second, neither of you moves. His gaze holds yours, and you feel pinned under the weight of it, your heart thudding in your chest. Then, his eyebrows raise in a twitch and he nods at you in acknowledgement. 
The conversation is trivial and bland and you expect it from Heeseung, considering this is how every interaction between you both has gone since living together. But right now, with the godly sight in front of you, your mouth feels dry, and you find it incredibly hard to piece together words for an answer that don’t include the filthy thoughts racing through your mind. Your gaze flickers over his bare torso again, lingering on the way his abs subtly flex with each breath, the light sheen of water still clinging to his skin.
It doesn’t help that you’re ovulating. That’s probably why you’re acting so feral over a man’s body right now. But then again, this isn’t just any man - this is Lee Heeseung. He’s perfect in every way, from his strong jawline and pretty nose to his long, kissable neck and the faint v-line that disappears into his sweatpants. Your eyes trail lower, curiosity burning within you. You’d love to expand further on your thoughts about him if only you knew what you were working with, but your imagination will have to suffice for now. 
When you don’t respond right away, Heeseung’s expression shifts slightly. He leaves the towel on the couch, his eyes narrowing with concern, and takes a few steps closer to you. The sudden proximity sends your heart into overdrive, and you can’t help but notice the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin, his presence electric. “Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks softly, his voice more gentle now, laced with genuine worry. “Did something happen?”
You snap back to reality, blinking rapidly as you try to shake off the haze of your thoughts. Your cheeks flush, and you clear your throat, hoping he can’t read your mind. “Oh, uh - yeah, I’m fine!” you finally stammer out, forcing a smile. “Work was just...busy, I guess. A lot of orders today.”
Of course, Heeseung is dubious of your sudden stuttering, wondering what on earth has gotten into you. Then, for a split second, your pupils dart to his chest then back to his face, and that is all the clues he needs to conclude his thoughts. You’re nervous. 
He would never dare tell Sunghoon that he’s been wishing for this moment for the past year. He was so eager to have you stay, thinking that it would be different from how it has turned out; Heeseung was going to use the opportunity to get close to you, figure out your opinions on him and see what he could capitalise on in an effort to make you crumble beneath him. He didn’t exactly need forever with you, one night of you screaming his name would suffice.
Heeseung isn’t one to walk around without a shirt on, so seeing him like this is a rare and unexpected sight. You've never seen him this way before, and it's clear that he never anticipated how much it would affect you.
Normally, you’ve shown little interest, or at least you’ve managed to hide it well. But now, standing before him with your eyes betraying a flicker of something more, Heeseung feels a strange excitement building in his chest, hammering away with a mixture of nerves and anticipation.
But that changed once Sunghoon shot that warning look, even fearless Jake was momentarily quaking at the intense gaze of his eyes. Still, you’ve also made it impossible for him to get close. 
Though ever the opportunist, Heeseung spots an opening right now, any concerns about Sunghoon’s threats out the window as he looks into your wide, pretty eyes.
A slow, teasing smirk tugs at his lips, and he takes another step closer, closing the distance between you even more. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low, velvety tone that sends a wave of heat crashing over you. “You look a little flustered.”
You swallow hard, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “I’m fine,” you insist, but it comes out a little breathless, betraying the effect he’s having on you. God, why is he so fucking hot?
Heeseung’s eyes narrow playfully, and he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “If I didn’t know any better,” he murmurs, his lips barely brushing your skin, “I’d say you were distracted.” His hand reaches out, fingers lightly grazing your arm, sending a shiver through you.
You don’t know how to handle this side of him. Heeseung is usually reserved, his words careful and measured. But now, there’s a boldness to him - a confidence that makes your stomach flutter. Flustered and overwhelmed, you decide it’s best to retreat before you embarrass yourself further. “I-I’m going to get ready for bed.” You turn on your heel, ready to escape to the safety of your room.
But before you can take another step, Heeseung’s hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist firmly but gently. He pulls you back toward him, his eyes dark and searching. “Why do you do that?” he asks, his voice suddenly serious.
You blink up at him, your heart racing. “Do what?”
“Avoid me,” he clarifies, his tone both curious and frustrated. “You’re always so keen to talk to Jake, but when it’s me, you just…scurry off.”
Your mouth opens, then closes, your mind scrambling for an explanation. You shake your head, trying to appear calm. “It’s not what you think.”
Heeseung’s eyes bore into yours, his expression a mix of playful challenge and something deeper, something almost vulnerable. “It’s not?” he repeats, his grip on your wrist tightening ever so slightly. “Because I’m starting to think you might not like me.”
His words are teasing, but there’s a shadow of insecurity in his stare, a hint that he might be more serious than he’s letting on. Your heart aches at the thought that he might feel unwanted or disliked. You shake your head vehemently. “No, not at all,” you rush to say, your voice soft. “It’s just…you’re so quiet and distant with me. I thought maybe you saw me as a burden, like I was getting in your way or something. So I just, find it better to stay away.”
Heeseung’s brow furrows in confusion, clearly taken aback by your words. He seems to be processing what you said, his mind sifting through memories of the past few weeks. Was he cold to you? He hadn’t thought so but maybe all those times hiding in his room when you were watching TV with Jake, giggling and happy as you both shared inside jokes, or how he purposefully left early to give you time to have a shower without the worry of his presence, gave you an impression he didn’t want to leave.
His eyes search yours as if he’s seeing you for the first time in weeks. You lick your lips nervously, and he notices the way your pupils are blown wide, a hint of want flickering in them. The knowing hits him like a wave, giving him the courage to say what he’s been holding back for so long. Heeseung leans in closer, his lips nearly brushing yours as he speaks, “Do you know why I do that? Keep my distance?”
“Why?” you whisper, your breath hitching.
“Because I’m trying so hard to control myself around you,” he admits, his voice low and rough with desire. The words hang in the air between you, heavy and charged. Before you can fully process them, he presses his body against yours, backing you up until you’re pinned between him and the wall. His spare hand comes up to steady you, fingers splayed across your waist, and you feel the firm, unmistakable press of his member against your stomach.
Your breath catches in your throat, your entire body buzzing with electricity. His gaze is locked on yours, his expression intense and hungry, waiting for any sign of rejection or acceptance from you. When you don’t pull away, his lips curl into a smirk, his fingers tightening their grip on your waist. “You have no idea how hard it’s been,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours, “to keep my hands off you.”
You shiver, your body responding to his words in a way that leaves you breathless, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins. “Then don’t,” you murmur, your voice barely audible but carrying all the weight of your desires. Would Sunghoon kill you both for this? Yes. But are you clouded with the thought of getting fucked by the man in front of you? Abso-fucking-lty.
Heeseung’s resolve snaps the moment he catches the glint of desire in your eyes, raw and unmistakable. He doesn’t hesitate; his hand grips your face with a roughness that sends a shiver down your spine, dragging you in as his lips crash into yours with an intensity that’s anything but careful. There’s nothing gentle about it - his kiss is fierce, almost aggressive, fueled by pent-up lust that he’s no longer bothering to control, any thoughts about Sunghoon and his warning gone from his mind.
His mouth moves against yours in a frenzy, urgent and demanding, as if he’s trying to devour you whole. His tongue pushes past your lips, claiming your mouth with a possessiveness that leaves you breathless. He tastes like heat and desperation, and you meet him with equal fervour, your tongues tangling in a messy dance of want. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, tugging slightly, almost punishingly, before his mouth slants over yours again, deeper, harder.
Your hands slide up his torso, fingers skimming over the slight ridges of his abs, and he groans into your mouth, a low, guttural sound that sends a surge of heat straight to your core. You’re clawing at him now, nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, needing to feel every inch of him. Heeseung’s grip on you tightens, his fingers pressing into your waist with bruising force, anchoring you in place as he pours every ounce of his hunger into the kiss.
He presses his body against yours, his arousal evident as his hips grind into you, the hard length of him pressing insistently against your stomach. He’s not holding back anymore, and the feel of him so close, so ready, only makes you more desperate. You arch into him, letting out a small, breathy moan that seems to spur him on. His lips move to your jaw, biting and sucking a path down to your neck, leaving marks that he knows will linger, and you’re gasping, fingers tangled in his hair as you tug him closer.
“Fuck,” he groans against your neck, his voice thick with need. “You drive me crazy. Do you know that?”
Heeseung’s breathing is ragged, hot against your skin as his mouth trails back up, capturing your lips again in a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth, messy and unrestrained. He shifts his grip, his hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing them roughly before he hoists you up with ease. Your legs wrap around him, locking tight as he manoeuvres you toward the bedroom you’re currently occupying. The journey is a blur of heated kisses and frantic touches, your nails scraping along his shoulders and arms, urging him on.
He barely pauses as he reaches the bedroom door, booting it open with a forceful kick. The door slams against the wall, but he doesn’t care; he’s too far gone, driven by pure, primal need. With a growl, he tosses you onto the bed, not bothering to be gentle. You bounce slightly on the mattress, the impact sending a rush of adrenaline coursing through you.
Heeseung climbs on top of you, his body pressing you down into the sheets. There’s a wild, almost feral look in his eyes, darkened with lust as he stares down at you. He’s breathing hard, every muscle in his body tense with barely restrained desire, and you can feel the weight of it in the air, thick and charged.
“I need to ruin you,” Heeseung breathes, his voice low, gravelly, and trembling on the edge of a plea and a command. His words are both a question and a demand, and the sheer hunger in his tone sends a shiver coursing through your entire body. “Please, let me ruin you.”
Though he poses the question, he doesn’t give you time to answer; his lips crash into yours with renewed urgency, kissing you with an almost punishing force. It’s all teeth, tongue, and desperation, and you moan into his mouth, matching his intensity, pulling him closer as if you can’t get enough. His hands roam your body with rough, greedy touches, fingers digging into your hips, your waist, everywhere he can reach as if he’s memorising the feel of you under his hands so he can sculpt you out of clay at a later date.
His hips grind into yours, and you gasp at the hard, insistent press of him against your core. Heeseung catches the sound, and his lips curl into a dark, satisfied smirk against your mouth. “God, you’re so needy,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction and barely restrained lust.
Without warning, he grabs the hem of your top, yanking it up and over your head in one swift motion. The fabric catches briefly, but he doesn’t care, he just rips it away, tossing it aside with a growl of impatience. Your bra is next, his fingers hooking under the straps and pulling until the clasp snaps open. He doesn’t bother being gentle, practically tearing it off you, and then he pauses, eyes locked on your bare chest.
“Fuck,” Heeseung breathes, his gaze shamelessly ogling your breasts, drinking in the sight of you with a hunger that makes your heart race. “You’re perfect.” The way he looks at you - like he’s starving and you’re the only thing that can satisfy him - makes heat pool low in your belly.
Before you can respond, he lowers his mouth, capturing one of your nipples between his lips with a sudden, rough intensity. His tongue flicks against the sensitive bud, hot and wet, before he sucks hard, drawing a gasp from your throat as your back arches instinctively. The contrast between the softness of his lips, the roughness of his tongue, and the sharp bite of his teeth has you moaning his name, each sensation driving you wild.
“Heeseung, fuck-” you gasp, your voice breaking as he switches between sucking, licking, and lightly nipping at your sensitive skin. Each movement sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you buck your hips up into his, desperate for more friction, more of him, everywhere.
Heeseung’s free hand slides down your body, fingers trailing over your heated skin, teasing the waistband of your pants before slipping beneath. His touch is bold, impatient, and he doesn’t waste time, finding your folds with practised ease. The moment his fingers make contact, you both let out a sharp gasp. You’re wet, slick with arousal, and the feel of you against his fingers is enough to make him groan low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your nipple as he continues to work you with his mouth.
“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice a rough, breathless whisper. “All this for me?”
His fingers dip into your folds, sliding through your slickness with an agonizingly slow, deliberate motion that leaves you breathless. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and anticipation, and you can feel the heat building, your core tightening as his fingers tease your entrance. Heeseung’s thumb brushes over your clit, drawing a strangled moan from your lips, and he groans in response, the sound low and primal.
He keeps one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard as he slowly pushes a finger inside you, feeling you stretch and clench around him. You’re so tight, so hot, and the feeling of his finger sliding in and out, curling to hit that perfect spot, has your hips bucking wildly against his hand. The combined sensation of his mouth tugging on your sensitive nipple and his fingers pumping into you is almost too much to bear.
“Heeseung, please,” you whimper, your hands fisting the sheets as you grind against his fingers, needing more, needing everything. The relentless rhythm of his fingers, the way his tongue circles and flicks your nipple, has you on the edge, your entire body buzzing with electric heat.
Heeseung’s teeth graze your nipple, biting down just enough to send a shockwave of pleasure and pain through you, and you cry out, hips jerking up as your body seeks more contact, more friction. “You like that?” he rasps, his voice thick with need. “The way I’m making you feel?”
All you can do is moan in response, every nerve in your body alight with the need to be filled, touched, consumed. His fingers slide deeper, curling against your most sensitive spot, and he pulls your nipple with his teeth, sending a fresh wave of ecstasy crashing through you. It’s raw, it’s overwhelming, and you can feel yourself unravelling under his touch, driven by the pure, primal lust that courses between you both.
"Please, Heeseung, faster..." you moan breathlessly, your voice breaking with need as your eyes flutter shut. You let yourself drown in the sensations, feeling every curl of his fingers inside of you, the way they press and drag against your walls with deliberate precision. The pleasure is dizzying, your body tensing and writhing in rhythm with each thrust of his hand.
Heeseung’s mouth finally detaches from your nipple, the cool air against your wet skin sending a shiver through you as he brings his face up, so close that his breath fans over your lips. His eyes are dark, charged with lust and something almost predatory, and the sight only fuels the fire burning inside you. “Can you handle it, angel?” he asks, his tone laced with a teasing mockery that makes your skin prickle.
“Yeah...” you pant, shamelessly meeting his gaze, a wild smile spreading across your face. “Go as rough as you want. You wanted to ruin me, right?”
It’s a challenge, and one he’s more than willing to accept. Heeseung’s expression shifts instantly, his entire demeanour hardening with a new, unrestrained intensity. His fingers move faster, plunging into you with renewed vigour as his thumb finds your clit, circling it in tight, relentless motions that have your thighs trembling. The sudden increase in pace sends your senses spiralling, your body arching up to meet every thrust, every swipe of his thumb against your swollen bud. It’s as if you’re floating, weightless, caught in a whirlwind of pure, unfiltered pleasure.
You can’t control the way your body moves with his hand, chasing the friction, the overwhelming heat that’s building in your core. Nothing is enough; you need more, need him deeper, harder, faster. Heeseung notices your desperation, the way you’re writhing beneath him, your hips rolling and grinding into his touch, and he smirks, a dark and knowing look flashing in his eyes.
“You’re such a greedy little slut, aren’t you?” he scoffs, his tone mocking but laced with the kind of filthy affection that makes your entire body quiver. The words send a shock of heat straight through you, and you can’t help the loud, unabashed moan that escapes your lips. His fingers curl inside you, pressing into the perfect spot, and your entire body convulses, thighs trembling as his touch sends you higher.
“Heeseung!” you mewl, your voice breaking in pure happiness, pleasure dancing through your veins. The way his fingers stretch you, three of them now pushing inside, filling you, twisting and curling as his thumb continues to work your clit, is mind-numbing. The steady, relentless pace of his movements combined with the filthy words pouring from his mouth has you seeing stars.
“Oh, you like being called a slut, huh?” Heeseung taunts, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction as he watches you unravel beneath him. Your response, the way your body responds to his every touch and word, only spurs him on, feeding into the raw, carnal energy between you.
Heeseung leans down, his lips brushing against your ear, so close that you can feel every word as he whispers them. His teeth sink into your earlobe, rough and possessive, and the sharp sting makes you yelp, the sound quickly dissolving into a breathy moan. “What if I started calling you my pretty slut, huh?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous, dripping with ownership.
The words hit you like a wave, crashing over you with an intensity that sends a fresh rush of arousal pooling between your thighs. You feel it, slick and hot, running past his fingers and down your ass cheek, coating you in the evidence of just how much you want this, how much you want him. 
“God, Heeseung,” you gasp, your hips bucking wildly against his hand, desperate and unashamed. His fingers pump into you faster, curling with each thrust, hitting all the right spots that make your mind go blank. You’re lost in the overwhelming sensation, every nerve alight with the tight, twisting pleasure that coils inside you, winding tighter and tighter until you’re right on the edge, ready to snap.
“You’re soaking me,” he teases, his voice low and rough, edged with dark amusement as he feels the fresh wave of arousal coating his fingers. “You really do like being called mine, don’t you?”
Your body answers him before you do, your back arching, and you nod eagerly, biting your lip to suppress the needy moans that threaten to spill out. You’re so close, so achingly close to that release, the familiar knot of pleasure inside you tightening with each movement of his hand. But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Heeseung shifts his body, his fingers slowing down, easing up on their relentless pace, and the knot inside you begins to unravel, pulling you back from the brink.
Your eyes snap open, frustration flashing across your face as Heeseung shakes his head, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “You need to use your words, or else I’ll stop,” he warns, his tone firm and commanding. “Understand?”
You go to nod again, but before you can, Heeseung withdraws his thumb from your clit and presses his palm flat against it instead, the sudden change making you cry out. The weight of his hand on your sensitive nub sends jolts of pleasure sparking through you, but it’s not enough - it's maddeningly close, yet just shy of the friction you need. You try to move, to grind against his palm, but Heeseung holds you down, his strength keeping your hips pinned as he presses his hand more firmly against your pulsing clit.
The rough texture of his skin brushing against your sensitive flesh without the full contact you crave is enough to make you squirm in frustration. You look up at him, your eyes pleading, but Heeseung’s gaze is expectant, patient, and utterly dominant as he watches you, waiting for you to obey him.
“Fuck, yes, yes! I’ll use my words,” you gasp, your voice high and trembling with need. You’re teetering on the brink of losing control, and the need to reach your peak overrides every ounce of pride. “Now please, Heeseung, make me cum.”
Heeseung’s smirk widens, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he hears you beg, your desperation feeding his ego. “See? Was that so hard?” he mocks, his voice dripping with playful arrogance. His fingers resume their movement, thrusting into you with renewed vigour, but this time there’s no hesitation, no teasing. He’s relentless, driving his fingers deep and fast, scissoring and curling them just right, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust.
His thumb returns to your clit, circling with precise, punishing speed, and the friction is immediate and overwhelming. The knot inside you tightens rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter until it’s a white-hot ball of pleasure, ready to explode. Your entire body moves in sync with his hand, hips rolling and grinding as you chase the friction, the pleasure building to an unbearable intensity.
“God, yes, Heeseung!” you cry out, your voice breaking as you feel yourself tipping over the edge. Your walls clamp down around his fingers, the pressure inside you reaching its peak. Heeseung watches you with a fierce, unyielding intensity, his eyes never leaving your face as he works you over that final threshold.
“That’s it,” he groans, his voice thick with satisfaction as he feels you tightening around him, your entire body trembling. “Let go for me. Cum for me, pretty girl.”
His words are the final push you need, and you shatter, pleasure ripping through you in powerful, uncontrollable waves. Your vision blurs and your entire body tenses as you cum hard around his fingers, each pulse sending shockwaves of bliss through your veins. Heeseung doesn’t let up, his fingers continuing their relentless pace, drawing out every ounce of your climax until you’re a trembling, moaning mess beneath him.
You’re barely aware of anything but the overwhelming sensation as your orgasm crashes over you, drowning out everything else. The tight coil of pleasure finally snaps, leaving you gasping and spent, your body still twitching in the aftermath as Heeseung slows his movements, easing you down gently from your high.
You’re left panting, completely undone, and Heeseung’s gaze remains fixed on you, his eyes dark and full of pride. He pulls his fingers out slowly, savouring the way you shudder at the loss, and he smirks, bringing them up to his lips. Heeseung licks them clean, humming in satisfaction at the taste of you, and the sight is enough to send another shiver down your spine.
“You did so well,” Heeseung murmurs, his voice thick with a twisted mix of pride and possessiveness. His lips capture yours in a kiss that's slower now but still burning with heat, and you melt into it, savoring the lingering buzz of your orgasm coursing through you. His mouth is unyielding against yours, claiming, almost as if he’s staking his territory on your lips. He pulls back, his forehead pressed against yours, eyes hooded and dark. “But we aren’t done,” he growls, the words dripping with intent that sends a fresh pulse of arousal through your core.
Heeseung's hands are on you instantly, grabbing the waistband of your bottoms and yanking them down, taking your underwear along in one swift, almost impatient motion. There’s no care in the way he tosses them aside, as if the only thing that matters is having you bare and exposed in front of him. The cool air hits your damp skin, and you shiver, every nerve ending alight as you lie there completely vulnerable under his predatory gaze.
Heeseung’s eyes roam over you, dark and hungry, lingering on every curve, every inch of your flushed skin. There’s a flicker of something wild in his expression, something that makes your heart race as he drinks in the sight of you. His hands move to his own waist, dipping into his grey sweats, and he pushes them down, revealing himself inch by agonizing inch. When his cock finally springs free, you can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips.
He’s even more than you imagined - thick, veined, and curving up just right, flushed a deep, enticing pink that makes your mouth water. At least seven inches, standing proud and heavy against his stomach, and the sight alone has your thighs clenching with anticipation. You can almost feel it already, dragging against your walls, filling you so perfectly that your empty core aches in response.
Heeseung notices the way your eyes are glued to him, the shameless hunger written all over your face, and his lips curl into a wicked smirk. “Like what you see, huh?” he taunts, his tone low and laced with mocking arrogance as he wraps a hand around his length, stroking himself slowly. His cock twitches in his grip, precum beading at the tip and dribbling down, and the sight makes your breath hitch.
“Heeseung,” you whimper, your voice filled with desperate need. You’re aching to feel him inside you, to have that perfect thickness stretching you open, but Heeseung doesn’t move, content to watch you squirm. Your hips shift on the bed, trying to relieve the unbearable emptiness, but he just tightens his grip on his cock, refusing to give you what you so clearly crave.
“You’re fucking shameless,” he mocks, his voice dripping with condescension. He runs the head of his cock teasingly through your slick folds, not quite pushing in, just enough to make you shiver. “Dripping all over my cock.”
You shudder, the tip of him nudging against your entrance, teasing but not quite entering, and it’s maddening. “Please, Heeseung, fucking move,” you beg, barely able to keep your voice steady. Your hands fly to his shoulders, trying to pull him closer, but he doesn’t budge, relishing every second of your desperation.
“What’s the rush, huh?” he says, feigning innocence, though his voice is edged with a dark, sadistic thrill. “Thought you wanted me to ruin you?”
His words hang in the air, taunting, and your body responds on instinct, your hips bucking up, trying to force him deeper. Heeseung lets you feel the head of his cock press in just a little more, but then he pulls back, chuckling darkly as you whine in frustration. The teasing is almost too much, and the smirk on his face tells you he’s enjoying every second of your torment.
“Fuck, please,” you plead, every ounce of pride gone, replaced by pure, unfiltered need. “I need it so bad, Heeseung.”
Finally, he seems satisfied, and his smirk fades into something darker, more feral. “That’s more like it,” he growls, and in one smooth motion, he pushes forward, his cock sinking into you inch by agonising inch. The stretch is perfect, your walls clenching around him as he fills you completely, and you gasp, overwhelmed by the sensation of him dragging against your insides.
Heeseung doesn’t wait - doesn’t give you time to adjust. He pulls back and slams into you again, the force making the bed creak and your breath hitch. It’s rough and relentless, the curve of his cock hitting all the right spots, and you can’t help the cry that escapes your lips. Your nails dig into his back, trying to anchor yourself, but Heeseung is unyielding, setting a punishing rhythm that leaves you breathless.
“Look at you,” he pants, his voice rough and laced with mockery as he watches you unravel beneath him. “So fucking desperate. How long have you wanted this?”
His words make you clench tighter around him, your body responding to his taunts in a way that makes your cheeks burn with a mix of shame and arousal. Heeseung notices, and he chuckles, low and dark, leaning in close enough that his breath brushes your ear.
“Tell me,” he growls, his tone edged with a threat that sends a thrill of anticipation through you. “Use those words, or I’ll get them out of you.”
A wicked idea sparks in your mind, and instead of answering, you clamp your mouth shut, biting down on your lip to keep any sounds from escaping. You look up at him, eyes gleaming with defiance and smirk. The challenge in your gaze is unmistakable, and you see something dark and feral flicker in Heeseung’s eyes as he realizes what you’re doing.
Heeseung loves submissive partners - loves when they give in to him completely. But there’s something about a brat, something about the way they fight back, that lets him unleash everything he’s got. And the way you’re looking at him now, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg, makes his blood pump with a mixture of lust and exhilaration.
“Oh, you want to play like that?” he snarls, the dangerous edge in his voice making your heart race. Without warning, his hand moves up to your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck with an almost brutal grip. His hand is big, easily encompassing your throat, and the pressure he applies makes his veins pop, the sight of them making your breath hitch.
Heeseung squeezes, and your airways constrict, your eyes widening as you feel the breath leaving your lungs. “You’re gonna want to gasp for air soon,” he taunts, his voice a low, menacing rumble that sends a fresh wave of arousal pooling in your core.
The lack of air combined with the relentless thrust of his cock deep inside you creates a dizzying, intoxicating sensation. Your brain starts to feel lighter, like you’re floating, and the world around you blurs as the pressure in your throat increases. You can still breathe—just barely - but the tiny gasps you manage through your nose aren’t enough, leaving you light-headed and playing a dangerous game.
And fuck, do you love it.
Heeseung’s grip tightens even more, cutting off your air completely, and your body thrums with a heady mix of fear and arousal. You’re drowning in the feeling of him everywhere - his cock driving into you, his hand choking the life out of you, and the overwhelming intensity of it all sends you spiralling into a blissful, euphoric state.
Your body goes slack beneath him, every muscle relaxed as you give in to the sensation, the lack of oxygen making everything else sharper, more intense. Your vision starts to blur at the edges, darkness creeping in, but you hold onto the pleasure, focusing on the way his cock drags against your walls, filling you so perfectly that it almost hurts.
Heeseung watches you closely, the way your lips part in a desperate attempt to take in air, the way your eyes flutter shut as you lose yourself in the haze. He knows you’re close, knows that the combination of his rough treatment and the lack of air is pushing you to your limit.
“God, you’re such a greedy little slut,” he hisses, thrusting harder, and you arch up into him, every nerve ending buzzing with electric pleasure. “Can’t get enough, can you?”
You’re too far gone to respond, too caught up in the overwhelming sensation of him pounding into you, each thrust rougher than the last. Your mind is hazy, clouded with lust, and all you can do is moan his name, your body moving instinctively to meet his every thrust.
Heeseung’s grip loosens from your throat, and you suck in a desperate gasp of air, your lungs burning with the sudden rush of oxygen. The pace of his thrusts is relentless, brutal, and all-consuming, driving you closer and closer to the precipice. Your world is reduced to the slick, punishing rhythm of his cock inside you, the tight coil in your stomach winding impossibly tight. You’re so close, teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion, when Heeseung’s voice cuts through the haze.
“Fuck, you’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?” he taunts, his tone ragged and dripping with sadistic pleasure. “Do it. Cum for me, and let everyone know how much you love getting fucked like this.”
As if by magic, Heeseung’s words come to fruition and as the last word leaves his mouth, Jake is standing frozen in the doorway, his expression a mix of shock and something heat-provoking. He shouldn’t be here - shouldn’t be seeing this - but there’s no stopping himself, the way his eyes linger on you, on the way your body arches and moves under Heeseung’s control. His jaw is slack, lips slightly parted as he struggles to process the scene in front of him, but he can’t hide the lust in his gaze, the unmistakable arousal that flares as he hears the sounds of your moans echoing through the room.
Heeseung notices Jake almost instantly, his rhythm never faltering. Instead of shouting at him to get out or shielding you from Jake’s gaze, Heeseung smirks, his lips curling into something wicked and taunting. He rolls his hips into you once more, and you cry out, lost in the sensation and unaware of the unexpected visitor.
“Jake,” Heeseung calls out, his voice dripping with arrogance and something like amusement. He gestures with a nod of his head. “Come here. She’s a handful.”
Jake hesitates only for a moment, clearly dazed by the invitation and the surreal reality of the situation. But then, as if drawn by some invisible force, he steps inside, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. He moves to the side of the bed, eyes flickering between you and Heeseung, still trying to wrap his head around what’s happening.
You see him then, and the shame washes over you like ice water, your impending orgasm slipping away in the heat of the moment as you flush red for a different reason. You instinctively try to cover yourself, hands moving up to shield your chest, but Heeseung’s grip is ironclad and he catches your jaw with a firm, possessive hold, forcing your gaze back to his.
“Don’t be embarrassed, angel,” Heeseung murmurs, leaning down so only you can hear, his hips slowing just enough to make your frustration mount. “You want him, don’t you? I see the way you look at him when he calls you pretty names.”
You can’t deny it - the truth in his words makes your core tighten, clenching around nothing as you imagine Jake’s touch, the thought of both of them overwhelming you. You’ve craved this in the darkest corners of your mind, and now, with Jake standing there watching you, your desire is laid bare.
“Yes…please, I want him,” you confess, voice trembling with need and a hint of shame.
Heeseung’s smirk widens, his expression turning mocking and cruel. “See? I knew a slut like you couldn’t be satisfied with just one cock.” His hand comes down in a light but sharp slap across your cheek, and you gasp, the sting mingling with pleasure that leaves you breathless.
Jake’s eyes darken at the action, flickering with concern at the derogatory name and the harshness of Heeseung’s treatment. But then he sees the way you smile up at them, your expression dazed and blissful, a spark of euphoria igniting in your gaze that tells him all he needs to know. You want this. You want to be used, claimed, and taken by both of them. Harshly and roughly.
Brushing his fingers along the mark on your cheek, Jake soothes the pain. His touch is warm and careful, but there’s a hunger behind it, a dark intensity in his eyes that makes your pulse quicken. He looks down at you, his expression a mixture of adoration but menacing intent.
“Our pretty girl,” Jake murmurs, his voice low and velvety, tinged with a heat that sends a shiver down your spine. “Who knew you were so filthy?”
Heeseung’s gaze snaps to Jake, his possessiveness flaring instantly. “My pretty girl,” he corrects sharply, his tone dripping with dominance and a clear line of ownership. “You’re just here to help out.” Heeseung’s words are a clear warning, a statement of his claim over you, even in this shared moment. He’s willing to let Jake in because it’s what you crave, but he won’t let anyone - especially not Jake - forget who you truly belong to.
Now that he has you, he’s never letting you go. Not Jake nor Sunghoon is taking you away from him.
Jake’s eyes flash with understanding and he nods slightly, accepting Heeseung’s terms even if he isn’t too happy about it. You’re beautiful in every way and he would want nothing more than to call you his, but he knows about Heeseung’s fascination with you.
Jake has seen all the times Heeseung walks out of the room when you’re getting too close to one another. At first, he thought it was to give you and Jake alone time, but with every slam of a door or huff, he soon realised that Heeseung was in fact jealous and couldn’t bear to see the sight of you curled up with someone who wasn’t him. It doesn’t help that you’ve never been close to Heeseung the way you are Jake, but the Aussie blames that on his friend’s lack of initiative. 
Clearly, he finally took the initiative by the looks of his cock ramming into you sharply.  So, Jake takes this opportunity, if it’s between one night of sharing you, or not at all, he’s taking the first option. 
Heeseung’s grip on your jaw tightens just a fraction, and he leans in, his lips brushing your ear. “You’re mine, angel. Always.” His eyes flicker to Jake, silently reminding him of the rules, before focusing back on you, his thrusts picking up speed again, driving into you with a new found vigour.
Your grip on the bedsheets tightens as you brace yourself, the soft fabric bunched between your fingers, knuckles turning white as you thrash beneath Heeseung. You’re barely aware of Jake watching every moment, every reaction—none of it matters anymore. The thick, pulsing drag of Heeseung’s cock has you keening, the heavy, relentless throb of his tip pressing against your walls with every hard thrust sending you spiraling into a delirium of pleasure.
The intensity of it all - the way Heeseung fills you so completely, the way his hips drive into you with a brutal, punishing rhythm - pushes you closer and closer to the edge. As your second orgasm builds, white-hot and all-consuming, it’s too much, almost unbearable. You instinctively try to pull away, shifting your hips back to gain even the slightest bit of relief. But Heeseung is quicker, his hands clamp down on your hips with a bruising grip, fingers digging into your skin.
"Don’t you fucking dare," he growls, his tone laced with anger and something darker, like the mere thought of you taking yourself away from him is the worst kind of betrayal. His gaze is wild, his brow furrowed with barely contained frustration, and it’s clear there’s a flip switch inside him - something more aggressive, more dominant than you’ve ever seen.
A sharp slap lands on your cheek, harder than before, the sting blooming hot across your skin and sending a shock straight to your core. “Don’t run away from what you want,” Heeseung hisses through clenched teeth, his thrusts not slowing for even a second. The sting mixes with the pleasure, and you feel yourself clenching around him, torn between pain and desire. You know you’ve pushed him over the edge, coaxed him into this rough, untamed version of himself, and you revel in it, loving the back and forth, the give and take of control.
“Jake, hold her arms,” Heeseung commands, his voice sharp and demanding, finally bringing Jake fully into the mix.
Jake’s hands are on you immediately, rough and firm as he yanks your arms above your head, pinning your wrists against the mattress. He pulls you slightly, stretching you out and arching your back off the bed. The new angle sends you reeling, Heeseung’s cock hitting deeper, impossibly so, opening you up in a way that has you gasping for breath. You’re splayed out before them, exposed and vulnerable, and the combination of Jake’s tight grip and Heeseung’s punishing pace leaves you completely at their mercy.
Heeseung’s thumb finds your clit again, pressing down with just enough force to make you cry out. “You’re going to cum for me,” he growls, voice rough and dripping with command. His hips snap against yours, relentless and punishing, and his thumb moves with practised precision, rubbing tight, fast circles that have you teetering on the brink of ecstasy.
Your vision blurs and all you can feel is the overwhelming pressure inside you, the knot in your stomach that has been pulled to it’s limits finally snaps with blinding intensity. You scream out, your entire body tensing as the orgasm crashes over you in violent, shuddering waves. It’s all too much, your body convulsing uncontrollably as Heeseung keeps driving into you, his thumb never relenting on your clit, prolonging your pleasure until you’re nearly sobbing from the sheer intensity of it.
Heeseung doesn’t let up, his pace unyielding, fucking you through your climax with a savage determination. Your slick walls clamp down around him, spasming with every drag of his cock, and he lets out a strangled groan, his control slipping as he chases his release. You’re lost to the sensation, barely able to form coherent thoughts as your climax drags on, each wave cresting higher than the last until you’re left shaking and spent beneath him.
“Fuck, Heeseung,” you cry out breathlessly, the desperate need in your voice undeniable. “Cum inside me, please, please, please.” You’re beyond humiliation now, too lost in the heat of it all to care about anything but the aching emptiness you feel whenever he’s not filling you.
But just as you plead, Heeseung pulls out, the sudden emptiness leaving you whimpering and clenching around nothing. The slick, wet sound of him slipping free echoes in the room, and he fists his cock, pumping it with fast, urgent strokes. His chest heaves, muscles taut and glistening with sweat as he works himself to the brink, his grip on you tightening with every jerk of his wrist. The sight of him above you - his face twisted in pleasure, his eyes wild and unfocused - is enough to make you ache with need all over again.
With a low, guttural groan, Heeseung spills over you, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach and chest, marking you his territory. The heat of it hits your skin, and you watch as he works himself through the last pulses of his release, his jaw clenched and his body trembling. Heeseung’s chest rises and falls heavily, his breaths ragged as he lets go, the last of his cum splattering across your body. He leans back, admiring the mess he’s made, his cock still twitching in his hand as he slowly comes down from his high.
“You need to behave if you want my cum, angel,” Heeseung says, his voice low and mocking, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips as he looks down at you. His thumb brushes over the sticky mess on your skin, smearing it just to make a point. You shiver, the ache and desire mixing into something intoxicating, and you know this won’t be the last time you push him like this - because the way Heeseung loses control when he’s with you is something you’ll never get enough of.
Jake’s grip loosens slightly, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles over your wrists, soothing the faint ache left behind by his earlier roughness. His touch is a stark contrast to the raw intensity of everything that’s just happened, but his eyes tell a different story - dark, hungry, and locked onto you with an unwavering focus. His gaze travels over your body, lingering on the mess Heeseung left on your stomach, your heaving chest, and the subtle, involuntary shake of your legs. You’re a beautiful wreck, panting softly, your entire body still humming with the aftershocks of your orgasm, and Jake can’t help but be mesmerized by the sight.
Heeseung notices the way Jake’s expression shifts, the unmistakable desire written all over his face. “You want to clean her up?” Heeseung’s voice drips with amusement, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches his friend’s restraint begin to crack. Heeseung’s fingers dip between your folds, collecting some of your slick before he brings his digits to his mouth, savouring the taste with a low, satisfied moan. “She’s fucking delicious.”
The taste of you floods Jake’s senses, and he loses himself in the moment, the sweet and salty blend of your release making his eyes flutter shut as he dives in deeper. He works his tongue expertly, slipping between your folds and circling your swollen clit before dipping down to explore your entrance, lapping up every drop of your arousal with an insatiable hunger. 
Jake doesn’t need any more encouragement. An avid pussy eater, he’s practically salivating at the opportunity, his lips curling into a smile as he bites down on his lower lip. He moves swiftly, coming around the bed to position himself between your trembling thighs. Heeseung steps back, giving him space, though his watchful eyes never leave you. Jake starts slow, his tongue darting out to deliver soft kitten licks against your sensitive folds.
His touch is featherlight at first, a teasing exploration that makes your body jolt with renewed need. You can’t help but arch into him, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, seeking more, silently begging for him to go faster.
You’re lost to the pleasure, moaning and grinding against his mouth, and Jake takes it all in stride, responding to every twitch and pull of your body as he picks up the pace, his lips and tongue moving in perfect rhythm. He feasts on you like you’re the only thing that matters, each flick and swirl sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated core.
Heeseung watches the scene unfold, his jaw clenched as he listens to your moans. Jake’s face is buried between your legs, and it’s clear from the way your back arches and your thighs tighten around his head that he’s damn good at what he’s doing. Heeseung can’t deny the jealousy simmering beneath his calm exterior. As much as he loves seeing you fall apart, he wants to be the one pulling those sounds from you, the one making you lose control.
Dragging his fingers along your torso, Heeseung collects some of the sticky mess he left on your skin, his cum still warm and glistening. “Open up, angel,” he orders, his voice laced with menace. You’re too far gone, drowning in the sensations Jake is giving you, but you obey without question, parting your lips wide and waiting with your tongue out like a perfect little submissive.
Heeseung pushes his fingers into your mouth, letting the salty tang of his cum coat your tongue. “Suck,” he commands, and you comply immediately, hollowing your cheeks around his fingers and drawing them in deeper. You swirl your tongue over his digits, tasting every drop, your eyes fluttering shut as you lose yourself in the bitter and intoxicating mix of him. 
Watching you intently, Heeseung is mesmerised by the sight of you sucking so eagerly, his fingers slick with your saliva and his cum. He pushes in further, teasing the back of your throat, feeling the soft gag that makes you whimper around him, desperate and wanting more.
Meanwhile, Jake is completely absorbed in his own task, his tongue working tirelessly as he devours you. His nose brushing against your mound, his lips and tongue moving in tandem as he dips deeper, swirling his tongue inside your stretched, pulsing hole. You can feel every stroke, every flick, and it’s driving you mad, the pleasure so intense it has you bucking your hips against his face, searching for every ounce of friction you can get.
Watching you writhe and moan, Heeseung feels something shift within him. There’s a flicker of fondness, something warm and possessive that cuts through his dominant facade, just for a miniscule of a second. He wants every piece of himself inside you, to claim you in ways that go beyond just the physical but he pushes it down quickly, promising himself he’ll come back to that once he’s done with you here. He needs to give you everything you want at this moment, and that isn’t tender touches and soft kisses.
Pushing your jaw down with his fingers against your tongue, Heeseung pries you open just a fraction wider. He leans in close, his eyes dark and intense, and without warning, he spits into your mouth, the warm liquid mixing with the mess on your tongue. “Swallow,” he says, his voice low and commanding. You do as you’re told, choking back a swallow even with his fingers still invading your mouth, feeling the weight of his spit mix with everything else, and the act itself only heightens the filthy pleasure coursing through you. You’ve never felt so wanted, so owned, and it’s everything you’ve ever craved.
Jake keeps his pace, and Heeseung watches with a mix of satisfaction and jealousy, knowing that while Jake might get to taste you, it’s Heeseung’s name that you’re whispering, it’s Heeseung who’s truly claimed you. But he can’t let Jake have all the fun down there.
Watching the way Jake devours you, his mouth slick and greedy against your pussy, his jealousy flares up even as he feels the rush of satisfaction at seeing you come undone. He wants to feel you trembling beneath his tongue, taste you again as you unravel. 
Withdrawing his fingers from your mouth, Heeseung moves to join Jake, his presence commanding as he circles to where the younger boy is still lost in you.
Jake’s head lifts just slightly when he feels Heeseung’s proximity, eyes narrowing in playful defensiveness. “No way, man, you ain’t taking over,” he mutters, his voice breathless, lips glistening with your slick. Heeseung simply rolls his eyes, unfazed by the challenge. 
Instead of pushing Jake away, Heeseung moves in closer, nudging Jake just enough to the side so that they both have room to work. “She said she wanted both of us,” Heeseung smirks, his tone smug and self-assured. “I’m just giving her what she wants.”
Jake, still high on the taste of you, nods in agreement, accepting Heeseung’s presence beside him. As long as he gets to keep his mouth on you, keep drawing those sweet, desperate sounds from your lips, he’s willing to share the space. Heeseung’s head dips down beside Jake’s, and the two of them work in perfect, sinful harmony, their mouths colliding as they lick and suck at your folds, both eager to claim their share of you. Their noses brush against each other, their breath mingling in heated puffs as they take turns devouring you, neither willing to give up the spot.
The sensation is overwhelming - two mouths on you at once, tongues weaving over one another, sometimes colliding and sometimes complementing, creating a dizzying, chaotic rhythm that has you seeing stars. Heeseung’s tongue is precise and teasing, swirling around your clit with practised ease, while Jake’s is more fervent, desperate and hungry as he licks broad, eager strokes from your entrance up to the sensitive bundle of nerves Heeseung is working on. The way their tongues dance over each other sends electric shocks up your spine; it’s hot and heavy, a messy, wet collision of pleasure that makes your entire body hum. 
This is truly what dreams are made of.
Every lick, every flick of their tongues against your swollen clit and dripping folds sends you spiralling closer to the edge. Jake’s hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh as he holds you open for both of them. Heeseung’s tongue dips lower, tasting you deeply, swirling inside your entrance before flicking back up to meet Jake’s. They take turns teasing you, their movements synchronised in a wicked, unspoken dance that leaves you gasping and writhing. It’s filthy and intimate, the feel of their mouths and their rough, needy breaths making your skin burn with want.
You can’t take it anymore. The coil inside you tightens with a force that’s almost painful, your third orgasm approaching with a relentless, ferocious speed. You try to hold on, try to prolong the moment, but it’s useless; the dual sensation of their mouths on you, the way their tongues move and taste you, has you spinning out of control. Your fingers claw at the sheets before finding purchase in their hair, grabbing onto both of them as your hips buck wildly.
“I’m cumming - fuck, I’m cumming!” you scream, your voice breaking, your entire body seizing as the orgasm rips through you with blinding intensity. The release is violent and all-consuming, your juices flooding their mouths as you squirt, your thighs shaking uncontrollably. 
Your release is powerful and sudden, a gush of warm, clear fluid spraying from your core in rhythmic pulses, splashing against their faces and dripping down your thighs. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve felt—wild and uncontrolled, your entire body shaking as you let go completely.
Both Heeseung and Jake are caught in the torrent, and they react instantly, their mouths wide open and eager to catch every drop. Jake groans, eyes squeezed shut as your release coats his lips, chin, and cheeks, his tongue flicking out desperately to catch the taste of you. He presses his face closer, unashamedly drinking you in, his movements more frantic as he swallows your essence, the wet sound of his slurping mixing with your breathless cries.
Heeseung, on the other hand, keeps his mouth firmly on your clit, feeling the rush of your squirt spray against him as he sucks and flicks over your swollen nub. The force of your orgasm sends jets of your wetness splashing against his lips, some of it dripping messily down his neck. His eyes stay fixed on you, half-lidded and dark with lust, groaning in satisfaction as he devours you, tongue flicking at your sensitive clit even as you tremble and buck from the intensity of it all.
The way they’re lapping at you, hungry and relentless, only prolongs your squirting, your body giving everything it has as you flood their mouths with your release. Your thighs quiver violently around their heads, your back arching off the bed as the last spurts drench their faces and mix with the slick heat of their tongues. You can feel it everywhere - your release dripping down, soaking into the sheets, and covering their skin. It’s filthy, raw, and utterly electrifying, leaving you gasping and trembling as the final shudders of your climax ebb away.
Laying there, you gaze up at the ceiling, overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for everything that has transpired. This is beyond anything you’ve ever imagined, a blissful euphoria that washes over you in waves. As you replay the events in your mind, you realize just how perfectly everything fell into place. If you or Heeseung had acted on this sooner, there’s no telling if Jake would be here with you now, completing this experience in a way you never expected. Timing really is everything.
Lost in your thoughts, you barely register Heeseung’s strong hands pulling at your arm, coaxing you into a sitting position. Your body feels limp, heavy with the aftershocks of your intense climax, but Heeseung is persistent, supporting your weight as he brings you upright. His warm breath tickles your ear as he whispers, “You’ve made such a mess, angel.” His voice is low and teasing, sending shivers down your spine. He nods towards Jake, who stands by the bed, his face and chest drenched in your release. “Your slutty little act got Jake soaked. You better get him out of those clothes, huh?”
Jake’s eyes light up at Heeseung’s words, a mix of excitement and disbelief crossing his features. He had half-expected Heeseung to kick him out after what just happened, but the realization that this night is far from over fills him with eager anticipation. Heeseung's possessiveness is still palpable, but there’s a clear invitation in his words—a chance for Jake to fully join in.
Despite the fatigue settling into your limbs, a satisfied smile tugs at your lips. You nod in agreement, knowing that as spent as you are, the hunger for more is still burning inside you. Heeseung was right - you are a lot to handle, and you love it.
Jake’s cock stands proudly before you, a little shorter but thicker than Heeseung’s, veins bulging along its length, and the tip flushed a deep pink. It throbs with anticipation, precum already beading at the slit, and your mouth waters at the sight. You glance up at Jake, who’s watching you with hooded eyes, his chest rising and falling with quickened breaths.
Gathering the last of your energy, you crawl to the edge of the bed where Jake is standing. His t-shirt clings to his skin, wet and sticky from your release, and you peel it away from his body, revealing his toned chest beneath. The fabric resists slightly, almost glued to him, but you tug it off, discarding it carelessly to the side. Your fingers move to his jeans, deftly unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper, feeling the weight of his arousal straining against the denim.
As you tug his jeans down, you can’t help but notice how his cock springs free, heavy and thick, even shorter than Heeseung’s, but undeniably tempting.
Heeseung moves behind you, his hands massaging your shoulders, his touch firm yet soothing. “Go on, angel,” he purrs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Suck his cock like the slut you are. Make him nice and hard.” His tongue flicks out, tracing the curve of your ear before he bites your lobe, a low growl rumbling in his throat. His voice drops to a menacing whisper, a warning laced with dominance. “Remember, you’re mine. Don’t let him cum in your mouth, or I’ll make sure you never get a drop of mine. Got it?”
The thought of Heeseung’s cum buried deep inside you sends a fresh wave of longing through your body, the ache intensifying at the reminder that he denied you earlier. You whine softly, desperate to please, knowing that you’ll do anything to earn that reward.
You start slow, your hand wrapping around the base of Jake’s cock, feeling the thick, pulsing heat in your palm. Your tongue darts out, flicking over the tip to taste the salty precum gathered there, and Jake’s breath hitches, his hips twitching forward slightly. You take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around the head, sucking gently as you inch down his length. The taste of him fills your mouth, and you hum in satisfaction, the vibration making Jake groan above you.
Jake’s reaction only spurs you on. You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you bob your head, creating a wet, slurping sound that fills the room. Your tongue swirls around his shaft, tracing the thick veins and teasing the sensitive underside, making him moan low and deep, his hands fisting in the sheets. The way he reacts to you—his breathless gasps, the way his hips jerk forward uncontrollably—fuels your desire, making you suck harder, faster, wanting to see him unravel.
Heeseung watches you with dark, hungry eyes, his own arousal reigniting as he takes in the sight of you working Jake’s cock. His hand moves to his own length, stroking himself in time with the rhythm of your head bobbing on Jake’s cock. The jealousy is there, a bitter edge that makes him want to rip Jake away from you, but he holds back, knowing that this is all part of his plan. You need to get Jake nice and ready for what Heeseung has planned next.
As you focus on Jake, your hips start to rise involuntarily, your body seeking more stimulation, almost begging for attention. Heeseung’s eyes catch the movement, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches your ass sway in front of him. There’s no way you’re sucking Jake’s cock without offering yourself to Heeseung like that. He can’t resist the invitation.
Without warning, Heeseung’s hand comes down on your ass with a loud smack, the sharp sting making you cry out around Jake’s cock. The vibration travels through Jake’s length, and he groans, his head falling back as he feels it shoot straight to his balls.
“Fuck… Heeseung, do that again,” Jake breathes out, his voice strained with pleasure.
Heeseung obliges, his hand coming down harder on your ass this time, the force of the slap sending a jolt of pain-pleasure straight to your core. You cry out again, your throat tightening around Jake’s cock as you take him deeper, the sensation making him groan louder, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turn white.
“Such a fucking slut,” Heeseung mocks, his tone filled with dark amusement as he soothes the reddened skin of your ass with gentle strokes, then leans down to press a kiss against it. “Bet she even loves her ass being played with.”
“Bet she does,” Jake echoes, his voice rough, his face scrunched up in pleasure as your tongue runs along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock.
Heeseung wastes no time in spreading your legs wider, his fingers tracing the slick folds of your cheeks before he delves in, tongue first. The wet, hot muscle of his tongue circles your rim, teasing and tasting, flicking over the sensitive skin there. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve felt before, and your back arches instinctively, pushing back against his face as he works you open. Heeseung’s mouth is relentless, his tongue dipping inside before drawing back to lick, over and over, until your thighs are trembling with need.
He adds a finger, then two, stretching you as his tongue continues its assault. Heeseung’s fingers press deeper, curling slightly as he works them in and out with an agonizingly slow rhythm, the slickness of your arousal making it easy for him to fuck into you. The combination of his tongue and fingers is overwhelming; every nerve in your body seems to light up under his touch. He alternates between licking and biting, his teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver of pain-pleasure shooting through you, and you can’t help but clench around him, your muscles tightening as you struggle to keep focus.
Jake watches from above, his cock still in your mouth, and your tongue traces along the prominent vein on the underside, feeling it pulse with every beat of his racing heart. But Heeseung’s ministrations make it impossible to concentrate fully. The way his tongue darts in and out of your ass, combined with the relentless thrust of his fingers, is too much to bear. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure directly to your core, and the more Heeseung teases, the harder it becomes to maintain control.
It’s a battle to keep your focus on Jake’s cock. You want to please him, to keep sucking and teasing, but Heeseung’s touch makes your mind go blank. Just as you start to find a rhythm again, you feel Jake twitch in your mouth—a subtle warning that he’s close. Panic surges through you as you remember Heeseung’s strict instructions and the threat of losing the chance to have his cum if Jake finishes in your mouth. Desperate to obey, you pull off Jake with a wet pop, the cool air hitting your lips as you gasp for breath, the brief reprieve quickly turning into a moan as Heeseung drives his fingers deeper, faster.
Heeseung doesn’t let up; he kneels behind you and yanks you up, removing his fingers only to press you firmly against his chest. His grip is possessive, holding you close as he whispers in your ear, “Good girl, you listen so well to me.” The praise sends a rush of heat straight to your core, and you whine, your body going limp against his hold as he licks the last of your taste from his lips, his satisfaction evident.
Seemingly caught in the moment, Jake’s eyes fix on you as he wraps his hand around his cock, fisting himself with quick, desperate strokes. His eyes flutter closed, his head tipping back as he chases the high he was so close to achieving in your mouth. You watch with rapt attention, seeing the way his muscles tense, his abs clenching as he works himself to completion. He positions himself in front of you, aiming at your stomach, and with a low, guttural groan, he spills over you, hot and thick.
His cum splatters across your skin, mixing with the remnants of Heeseung’s earlier release, creating a mess that drips down your belly and pools in your navel. You watch the way Jake’s cock twitches in his hand, each pulse sending another thick rope of cum across your skin, the sight both filthy and utterly arousing. The combined scent of their release fills your senses, and you can’t help but let out a soft, needy whimper, your body aching for more.
Heeseung’s hold tightens around you, his fingers digging into your flesh as he watches Jake finish. “Look at you,” Heeseung murmurs, his voice rough with pride and arousal. “Covered in our cum like the perfect little slut you are.” He tilts your head back, forcing you to look up at him, his dark eyes burning with unspoken promises. “And don’t worry, angel. You’ll get what you want soon enough.” His cock twitches against your back, a silent promise of what’s still to come.
With a smirk, Heeseung’s eyes flick down to his friend’s softening cock. “I’ll give you a minute, yeah?” he says, the implication clear in his tone. Although Jake’s frustration is palpable - knowing that Heeseung will be buried inside you again before he even gets a chance to feel your tightness squeezing his cock - he nods in understanding.
He knows he needs a moment - his dick, still slick with your spit and his own cum, needs a little time to recover before he's ready to go again. The veins running along his shaft are still faintly pulsing, and his tip, now a deeper, more muted pink, glistens under the dim light of the room. He gently strokes himself, trying to keep the lingering arousal alive, his eyes never leaving the scene unfolding before him.
Meanwhile, Heeseung’s lips trail down your neck, nipping at your skin in a playful, almost affectionate way. Each bite is a reminder of his claim on you, and the small smiles he gives are a stark contrast to the filthy things you’ve done together tonight. His warm breath fans against your ear, and you can’t help but shiver in anticipation, knowing exactly what’s coming next.
With a sultry smile, you gather some of the cum pooling on your tummy, dragging your fingers through the sticky mess before bringing them to your lips. You suck them clean, maintaining eye contact with Heeseung the entire time, a deliberate and provocative display. 
A stray dribble escapes the corner of your mouth, trailing down your chin, but Heeseung’s quick to notice. Without hesitation, he leans in, his mouth latching onto your skin as he sucks the dribble off your face, his tongue sweeping over your jawline in a way that’s both possessive and intimate. The unexpected act catches you off guard, and you gasp softly, the sound quickly morphing into a needy whimper.
Something is mesmerising about Heeseung - how he’s unafraid to take what he wants, how he ensures you’re getting the most pleasure out of every moment. He’s unlike anyone you’ve ever been with, and you find yourself falling deeper into the way he handles you with a perfect balance of roughness and care. Jake, too, has been nothing short of selfless, his need to please you evident in every touch and desperate lick. The puppy-eyed boy is eager to please you, which is a rarity to find in men these days, god knows you’ve tried looking for one.
Who knew what you needed was under this roof?
Heeseung’s eyes remain half-lidded, dark with desire, as he pulls back just enough to speak. “Turn around for me, angel,” he instructs, his voice dripping with lust. He punctuates his command with a sharp slap to your ass, and the sting only amplifies the fire burning between your legs. His enthusiasm is contagious, and despite your exhaustion, a renewed energy surges through you. You comply eagerly, shuffling until you’re facing him, both of you on your knees on the mattress.
Up close, Heeseung’s beauty is breathtaking. His dark eyes are alight with mischief and hunger, but there’s also a softness there, a gentleness that contradicts the filthy words he whispers in your ear. You marvel at how stunning he looks with his tousled hair, swollen lips, and a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. He’s a perfect mix of tenderness and dominance, and every second in his presence feels electric.
“I’m going to fuck your cunt. You feeling okay?” Heeseung asks, his voice softening as he checks in on you, his fingers drifting down to your slick heat. He carefully slides them between your folds, testing your sensitivity, searching for any signs of discomfort.
You moan at the touch and nod, meeting his gaze with a cheeky grin. “I’m okay. Nowhere near ruined,” you tease, giving him an innocent look, though both of you know there’s nothing innocent about what’s happening.
Heeseung’s expression shifts, his caring concern replaced with amusement and libido. “Yeah? Suppose I better make good on my promise then,” he growls before crashing his lips back onto yours. The kiss is fierce and consuming, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with unrestrained fervour. He devours you, kissing you like he can’t get enough like he’s starved for every part of you - and he is. His fingers continue to play with your folds, rubbing slow circles against your clit, driving you further into madness as your hips jerk instinctively against his hand.
Jake’s watching intently, his cock twitching back to life as he witnesses the raw passion between you and Heeseung. The sight of you so lost in Heeseung’s touch, the way your body melts into his, ignites something fierce within Jake. He strokes his length slowly, feeling the arousal steadily build again, his tip swelling with a deep rose tint as blood rushes back, hardening him as he imagines the moment he’ll finally be inside you.
Heeseung’s hands find your ass, gripping firmly as he lifts you with ease, positioning you over his lap. Your legs spread wide, and he uses his strength to guide you down, letting your slick folds drag along his cock, the bell of his tip pressing teasingly at your entrance. The friction has you grinding against him, desperate for more, and Heeseung groans at the needy way you move, his head tipping back in pure bliss.
“God, I fucking love how needy you are,” he breathes, leaning forward to hover his lips over yours, barely brushing them as he speaks. “I’m never letting you go after this.”
You can’t suppress the smile that spreads across your face, the words resonating deeply. “Good. I don’t want you to,” you murmur back, your voice filled with sincerity. Heeseung’s gaze softens momentarily before his need takes over, and he pulls you down, his cock finally breaching your entrance as you sink onto him, the stretch and fullness making your eyes roll back in pure ecstasy.
Heeseung’s strong hands grip your waist, guiding you up and down on his cock with practised ease. Each bounce sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, the thick length of him stretching you in ways that leave you breathless. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your soft, needy moans and Heeseung’s ragged breaths. He watches you through hooded eyes, his lips parted as he groans with every thrust, the sight of you taking him so eagerly making his head spin.
“Fuck, you feel even better this time,” Heeseung rasps, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. He can’t believe how tight you still are, how your body moulds perfectly around him, clenching with every movement. His hips snap up to meet your descent, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he drives himself deeper inside you. He swears for a second he can see his cock bulging out your stomach, making him groan out and quicken his pace.
Biting his lip so hard it nearly draws blood, Jake moves closer, his restraint crumbling as he watches you go up and down on Heeseung’s cock. The sight is almost too much for him to bear; he needs to feel you, to be inside you. Climbing onto the bed, he positions himself behind you, his eyes locking onto Heeseung’s, silently asking for permission to join.
Heeseung doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he cups your face, drawing your attention back to him rather than the pleasure. “You think you can take both of us, angel?” he asks, his voice thick with pride and appentence.
The mere thought sends a shiver of excitement down your spine. One cock was already bliss, but the idea of having both of them inside you at once? It’s a dream you never thought would come true. You nod enthusiastically, your smile bright and eager. “Yes. Fuck, yes.”
Jake mirrors your expression, his eyes lighting up and his cock twitching in joy. Unable to resist, he leans in and captures your lips in a kiss. It’s different from Heeseung’s - softer, more deliberate, his tongue stroking yours slowly, savouring the moment. The contrast between Jake’s gentle kiss and the way Heeseung pounds into you is dizzying, making you feel completely overwhelmed in the best way possible.
With his hands groping your ass and kneading your cheeks, Jake’s touch is gentle as he positions himself at your entrance. He feels the tight ring of muscle give way slightly under his touch, his eyes flickering with both excitement and a hint of concern. Slowly, he presses forward, the thick head of his cock nudging at your entrance. The stretch is intense, and you can’t help but claw at Jake’s shoulder, your nails digging in as you adjust to the pressure.
Heeseung pauses his movements, allowing you to catch your breath as Jake inches inside. Your body tenses, the sensation of Jake’s girth pushing into your ass making you gasp. Even though Heeseung had prepped you earlier, Jake’s cock is thick, and the tightness borders on overwhelming.
Jake’s brow furrows, his voice laced with guilt as he peppers kisses along your cheek, your jaw, your forehead - anywhere he can reach. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs between kisses, his touch tender and soothing. “I’ll go really slow until you’re ready, yeah?”
The gentleness in his voice makes your heart flutter, and despite the intensity of the stretch, you can’t help but feel safe between them. “It’s okay,” you whisper, breathless but reassuring. “I want this. You can move.”
Cautiously, Jake slides in deeper inch by inch, his own moans of ecstasy barely contained as your tight heat swallows him. The slow stretch is excruciatingly good, the pressure of being filled from both ends sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body. Heeseung keeps his hands on your waist, holding you steady as Jake finally bottoms out, the three of you perfectly locked together in a moment that feels almost unreal.
“Oh, fuck,” Jake breathes, his head tipping back as he revels in the tight squeeze around him. “You feel so fucking good.”
Heeseung’s lips curl into a smirk as he watches you both, his grip tightening possessively. “You like that, angel? You like being filled up by us?” His voice is low and rough, and you can only nod, your words lost to the pleasure.
As your body begins to adjust to the intense stretch, the rhythm between Heeseung and Jake picks up, their movements becoming more coordinated, more deliberate. Heeseung’s hands roam your body, sliding up your waist to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples as he thrusts up into you. The sensation sends jolts of pleasure shooting straight to your core, each touch amplifying the overwhelming fullness you feel. Jake’s hands grip your hips from behind, guiding you onto his cock with careful but desperate need, his fingers occasionally sliding to your lower back, tracing soft patterns as if trying to soothe the burn of being stretched so wide.
Every thrust is perfectly timed, alternating in a way that keeps you impossibly full, never a moment where you aren’t completely claimed by both of them. The feeling is indescribable - hot, tight, and exquisitely intense, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. The press of Jake’s chest against your back, the rough slide of Heeseung’s cock inside your dripping heat, and the way Jake’s fingers are now expertly working your clit all converge into one dizzying blend of pleasure. Your moans turn into high-pitched cries, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, and you’re completely lost to the overwhelming ecstasy of having them both.
Jake’s touch on your clit is unrelenting, his fingers drawing slow, firm circles that match the rhythm of their movements. Your body responds instantly, clenching tight around both of them as your orgasm builds, a pressure so fierce it almost scares you. Your breaths turn ragged, your body trembling as you cling to Jake’s shoulders for support, feeling like you might fall apart at any moment. The tension finally snaps, and you’re thrown headfirst into your release, your walls convulsing wildly around them. The sensation is blinding; your vision goes white, and your entire body locks up as the orgasm tears through you. Your head falls back onto Jake’s shoulder, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as pleasure floods every inch of your being.
“Fuck, that’s it, cum for us,” Heeseung groans, his voice thick and strained. His own restraint is slipping, the feeling of you spasming around him pushing him dangerously close to his own release. Jake watches you fall apart, his eyes glazed with lust as he feels your slick walls clench around his cock, milking him for everything he has.
Jake’s breathing is ragged, his release lingering in the air, but his eyes stay fixed on the way your body is stretched and filled between them, a look of longing and unfulfilled need still shadowing his expression. Heeseung’s thrusts are slowing, but Jake’s gaze doesn’t waver; he’s captivated, hungry for more. As he pulls out slowly, his cock slick and glistening from being inside you, he swallows thickly, his desire still burning hot despite his recent release.
“Fuck… Heeseung,” Jake starts, his voice hoarse and filled with a mix of uncertainty and desperate want. He hesitates, his eyes flicking between you and Heeseung. “Can I—can I cum inside her ass?”
Heeseung’s head snaps up, his brows knitting together in a flash of possessiveness. It’s an instinct, that primal urge to keep you all to himself, to not share the deepest parts of you. His fingers tighten slightly on your waist, and he bites his lip, conflicted. The question hangs heavy between the three of you, and you can feel the tension in the air, the silent battle playing out in Heeseung’s mind as he grapples with his possessiveness.
But before he can even form a response, you nod eagerly, your body already aching for more, for that forbidden thrill of being filled in every hole. Your eyes meet Heeseung’s, silently pleading, and he feels his resolve waver. Despite his reluctance, the look of anticipation and need on your face is impossible to ignore.
Heeseung’s gaze softens, his possessiveness yielding under the weight of your desire. He knows how much you crave this, and though the thought of Jake claiming you in such an intimate way twists something inside him, Heeseung’s need to see you satisfied trumps his jealousy. He lets out a sigh, brushing his thumb over your cheek in a tender, reassuring gesture.
“Only because she wants it,” Heeseung murmurs, his voice low and edged with reluctant surrender. He looks at Jake, then back to you, his eyes filled with a fierce, protective heat. 
Jake nods, his eyes lighting up with gratitude and excitement. The sight of you writhing between them, your body trembling and utterly spent - along with verbal permission - pushes Jake over the edge. His grip on your hips tightens, and with a few more desperate thrusts, he lets out a strangled moan, his cock pulsing inside you. He buries himself deep, the heat of his release flooding you as he spills, his cum coating your walls as he grinds against you, hips twitching with each spurt. Jake’s head drops forward, his breath hot against your shoulder as he groans through his release, the feeling of being buried in your tight heat making him shudder in bliss.
“Fuck, so tight,” Jake pants, his voice barely a whisper as he comes down from his high, his body sagging slightly but still moving in time with Heeseung’s thrusts, making sure you stay full.
Heeseung watches, utterly transfixed by the sight of Jake’s cum mixing with your slick as he continues to thrust into you. The pressure of you squeezing him so perfectly and the primal satisfaction of knowing he’s sharing this moment with Jake pushes him right to his breaking point. With a guttural moan, Heeseung snaps his hips up, filling you completely one last time before he finally lets go. His grip on your waist is bruising, his nails digging into your skin as his release surges forward, hot and thick as he empties inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, his cock twitching with every pulse as he coats your insides with his cum.
Heeseung’s thrusts slow but remain deep, his forehead pressed against yours as he breathes heavily, still caught in the aftershocks of his orgasm. “Fuck, angel, you were so perfect,” he mutters, his voice laced with awe as he watches the way your body shudders between them, completely sated and drenched in the evidence of their pleasure. Jake’s hand still lingers on your hip, squeezing gently as if to say that this moment was just the beginning, a silent promise of more to come.
With both of them still inside, you feel utterly claimed, utterly theirs, and you know that nothing else will ever compare.
As the intensity of the moment finally settles, the room falls into a comfortable, exhausted silence, only broken by the sound of labored breathing. Heeseung slowly pulls out of you, careful not to overwhelm you further, his own body still tingling from the aftershocks of his release. He can’t help but watch the way his cum mingles with Jake’s, leaking out of you in thick rivulets. The sight is so raw, so intimate, that it sends a possessive thrill through him, but he knows that now is the time for gentleness.
Heeseung’s touch shifts from passionate to tender, his hands soft and careful as he helps you lay back on the bed. You’re completely spent, your body limp and glowing with satisfaction, and Heeseung takes a moment to appreciate just how beautiful you look—flushed, a little messy, and thoroughly pleasured. He kisses your forehead softly, then moves to check over your body, his gaze sharp and attentive. There’s a hint of concern in his eyes as he inspects every inch of you, ensuring there are no signs of discomfort or strain.
“You okay, angel?” he asks, voice gentle as he runs his fingers soothingly through your hair. You nod weakly, eyes half-lidded, still lost in the blissful haze of what just transpired.
Jake, catching his breath, slips off the bed with a satisfied smile, heading to the kitchen. He quickly grabs a bottle of water and some wet wipes, his mind already shifting to aftercare. He knows how important this part is - to make sure you feel safe and loved, especially after such an intense experience. When he returns, Heeseung is still doting on you, his fingers tracing light patterns on your skin as if grounding you.
You let out a tired whine, snuggling deeper into the pillows. “Too tired,” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. Heeseung frowns slightly but lets it go, deciding to prioritise your comfort in this moment, knowing he’ll keep a close eye on you.
Heeseung’s protective nature kicks in, and he leans close, his voice soft but firm. “You should try to pee, angel,” he urges, knowing how your body needs it.
But you shake your head, too tired to move, too comfortable in the warm cocoon of their presence to care about anything else. “I know, baby, but it’s important,” he insists, though his tone is gentle, laced with concern.
Jake kneels beside you, his smile tender as he opens the wet wipes and begins to clean you up, his touch gentle and unhurried. He wipes away the sticky mess on your stomach, thighs, and between your legs, his movements slow. The cool touch of the wipes is soothing against your heated skin, and Jake’s soft murmurs of reassurance make you feel even more cared for.
“You did so well,” Jake praises softly, his fingers grazing your skin as he cleans you up, making sure you’re as comfortable as possible. “So perfect for us.” His eyes are full of warmth as he meets yours, and the soft, fond expression on his face makes your heart flutter.
Once you’re cleaned up, Jake hands you the water bottle, urging you to take a few sips to hydrate. You comply, though your body is still heavy with exhaustion. The cool water soothes your dry throat, and you give Jake a sleepy smile of gratitude.
“Thanks,” you whisper, your voice hoarse but content. Jake just smiles back, brushing a stray hair away from your face before discarding the used wipes and settling back on the bed.
“C’mere,” you murmur, reaching out for both of them. The need for closeness, for reassurance, is palpable in your voice, and neither Jake nor Heeseung hesitates. They each slide in beside you, one on each side, surrounding you with their warmth. Heeseung pulls you closer against his chest, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist, while Jake presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing over your cheek.
You sigh in contentment, the weight of their bodies grounding you, making you feel utterly safe and cherished. Heeseung’s thumb strokes your side in soothing circles, and you nuzzle closer to him, inhaling his familiar scent. Jake’s hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers as he snuggles closer, and you feel utterly enveloped by their presence.
The three of you lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow. The air is thick with the lingering scent of sex, but there’s a newfound calmness, a quiet intimacy that settles over you like a warm blanket.
As you lay nestled between Heeseung and Jake, the warmth of their bodies soothing every ache and the steady rhythm of their breathing lulling you into a sense of tranquility, your eyelids grow heavy. The soft, rhythmic strokes of Heeseung’s thumb along your side and the gentle squeeze of Jake’s hand in yours keep you tethered to the present, yet slowly, inevitably, the world begins to fade.
The sounds around you start to blur - Heeseung’s quiet, steady breaths, the faint rustle of sheets, and the soft hum of the city beyond the window. Everything seems to meld into a comforting haze, and you feel yourself slipping, drifting further into the embrace of sleep. The last thing you register is Heeseung’s fingers brushing through your hair and Jake’s lips pressing a final, tender kiss to your cheek. You surrender to the drowsiness, your body relaxing completely as you sink into a deep, contented slumber, cocooned in the safety of their presence.
With you now resting peacefully between them, Heeseung and Jake exchange a silent glance over your sleeping form. It’s a look filled with a mix of satisfaction, confusion, and a touch of uncertainty. The night had been everything they had imagined and more, but the rawness of their emotions lingers heavily between them. Neither of them had expected to feel this way - to feel so deeply connected to you through this shared experience.
Heeseung’s eyes flicker with an unspoken question, his possessiveness simmering just beneath the surface. He’s never been good at sharing what’s his, and seeing Jake so intimate with you stirs something complicated inside him. He knows he needs to sort through these feelings, but he also knows that tonight isn’t the time for it. Right now, you’re all that matters, your comfort and peace taking precedence over his own inner turmoil.
Jake meets his gaze, and for a moment, his usual easygoing demeanour falters. There’s a flicker of doubt, a quiet acknowledgement of the shift in their dynamic. The truth is, having you like this, feeling you fall apart in their hands, has only deepened his desire. But more than that, it’s solidified something within him—a need to protect and keep you close. It’s a need that, strangely enough, mirrors Heeseung’s own, despite their differences.
Neither of them speaks; there’s no need for words right now. They’ll figure it out in the morning, they tell themselves. What this means for all of them, how they’ll navigate this new and tangled web of emotions and desire—it’s a problem for another day. The only certainty they share in this moment is that you’ve become something irreplaceable, something neither of them is willing to let go of.
But there’s one unspoken agreement that hangs heavily between them: 
Sunghoon can never find out. 
perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21 @diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee @haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii @notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08 @emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove @heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun @ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee @xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @dollyyun @iluvikeu @deobitifull @yawnazzz @st1llm0nster @woorcve @heeseungsbm @star-hoon @heelee-01 @wonnienyang
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sutorus · 1 year
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THE GRUDGE PROFESSOR!GETO for KINKTOBER 2023!
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DESCRIPTION: everybody loves professor geto, and judging by the thousands of viewers you get on every live, a lot of people love you, too. but you and professor geto hate each other. you’ve had enough of his humiliation rituals, and decide to do something about it.
PAIRING: mean professor!geto x student!reader
WC: 5.3k i am an unstoppable beast
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, teacher/student dynamic! adult age gap! (reader is in college, unspecified age), sw/camgirl!reader (don’t like don’t read! no shaming 😤), strong language, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, darling), reader calling geto "sir", unprotected relations, creampie, afab reader and terms
A/N: this switches between povs a lot so i hope that’s okay or at least readable lol! also i set out to write him so much meaner but he’s just kind of a simp... enjoy?
reblogs are very much appreciated i'll uwu for u :pleading eyes emoji:
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it is said that those who cannot do, teach. 
geto suguru could have done many things. he had the brains, the muscles, the features, the traits. the ambition to succeed in any field he desired. satoru says in a world ruled by the strong there is no place for humility. 
but humility is not why suguru became a teacher. neither is ineptitude. no, he’d become a teacher because it was the right thing to do. 
to use his gifts to help shape new generations, help unlock potentials long dorment and buried deep under years of a lackluster schooling system. geto suguru prided himself, above all, in being a righteous man. 
but japan’s most upstanding citizen for 28 years in a row held a shameful secret. a secret in the shape of you. 
he saw the darkest sides of himself on your face (eyebrows scrunched, eyes shut tightly, jaw slack as you—), your voice (higher in pitch with desperate moans that sound almost scared on the brink of your—), your body (taut and plump in all the right places, glistening with sweat, bouncing up and down on a—). 
when you walked into his classroom that fateful day, the world tilted on its axis. his first thought was, fuck, then, it can’t be, then, most embarrassing of all, i’ll finally find out what she smells like. 
(he did, when you went up to his desk to hand over your test. a whiff of vanilla, argon oil shampoo. too sweet, too youthful. and he’d watched you leave, tennis skirt flowing like a water lily, dick already chubby in his pants.)
it was slowly starting to consume him.
the first time you spoke in class, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. it was really you. the cute, slutty girl he’d been milking his cock to for the better part of a year. 
god, when you finally said his name. you would never in your wildest dreams think that he’d been imagining those words coming out of your mouth, of him coming out of your mouth, dripping out of you, all over you—
he was losing it. this was not like him. this was never supposed to happen, and he has to put an end to it. 
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everybody knew of geto suguru, the prodigy professor. already getting a phd despite not even being 30, handling the administrative slack for the department while managing office hours every day of the week, promoting student events, helping organize spirit weeks and charity drives. 
everything he did, he did for others. those not as capable as him — which was most people. in other words, it was really, really hard to hate him. 
but you damn well managed to. 
and to think you were excited to take his class. everybody told you to run, not walk, to sign up for his twentieth-century Japanese philosophy chair. 
“oh, professor geto is just the best,” they’d said. “he makes it sound so interesting and engaging, he gives the most life changing assignments, he really cares about us.”
bullshit. 
the first time you stepped into that classroom, suspiciously full for a philosophy class, you felt a shift in the air almost immediately. 
and sure enough, professor geto suguru was eyeing you down like he’d just seen a ghost. it made you self conscious, like he’d taken one look at you and decided right then and there you were too dumb for the class. 
it made your blood boil. sure, you stood out a little bit from the actual philosophy majors, but that doesn’t mean he gets to judge you. he literally doesn’t know you!
but fine, first impressions are tricky like that. for all you knew, you could’ve been misjudging him right there. 
however, with each passing day, you grew more and more assured in your suspicions.
you knew the man had it out for you, always calling on you to answer when he knew you weren’t paying attention, never grading your papers above a B even though you did everything right, somehow managing to fucking avoid you during his excessive office hours. 
his looks were almost the most infuriating part of it.
his beautiful face constantly set in that nonchalant look, his big veiny hands always gesticulating, his huge fucking arms straining the fabric of those dress shirts, his ear gauges and man bun contrasting the prim and proper image the rest of him conveyed. 
under different circumstances, he’d make your mouth water. under different circumstances, you’d imagine him going down on you all night long, singing praise about how good you taste and how tight you are. 
but in this timeline, you absolutely loathed him. and he loathed you too. why? you didn’t know. 
but you knew for a fact that it was personal. 
“i don’t care,” megumi said around a mouthful of meatball, cutting your monologue short. “i’m not doing it.”
you sigh, melting into your chair. “megumi. please. i am literally begging you, i just need some hard evidence so i can go report his ass.”
he eyes you curiously. “report him for what?”
“i don’t know. bullying? sexism? whatever the hell his problem is,” you pick at your food, huffing in annoyance. 
“you’re overthinking it,” megumi replies, dismissively. 
“okay, how about this,” you lean forward, putting an elbow on the table. “if you write the assignment for me, i’ll get your dog that expensive halloween costume you’ve been wanting.”
megumi lifts an eyebrow. 
“you need to get one for each,” he says simply. 
you grin. “deal.”
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suguru really does give it his all to make your life with him a living hell. pulls out all the stops, years of friendship with gojo satoru paying off as he comes up with ploy after ploy to get you to drop his class. 
it feels bad, being mean to you. but for the hidden, twisted parts of him, it feels delicious. 
watching you huff and puff, all hot and bothered when he corrects your answers on the spot. watching you nibble on your pen at the increasingly difficult exams he hands out. letting himself wonder if you missed a stream this week because you were too busy cramming for a make up test. 
he knows he’s pushing you to your limit, and even if there’s some sort of sick satisfaction in seeing you so agitated at his hands when it’s usually the other way around, he doesn’t enjoy upsetting you. 
the problem is, suguru knows it’s either he gets his shit together or he continues tormenting you, and, well. 
the spirit is willing but the flesh is so, so weak. 
he knows it’s getting worse, too, because he’s not infatuated by you only when you’re undressing on his screen, or all dolled up in class. 
when you tie your hair up in a ponytail, when you suck on a hangnail, when you lick your thumb to erase a smudge on your paper… all of it drives him wild. 
he can’t teach with a permanent half chub anymore. this has to end, one way or another. 
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you sit down in front of your computer, adjusting the camera before turning it on. soon, viewers start trickling in, little dings notifying you of their messages. 
you smile, waving at the screen. 
“hi everyone! i know i’m a little bit late today, i hope you can forgive me…” your eyes scan the chat, giggling at the compliments. “‘you look tired, sad face’, ah. i’m sorry. i guess i’ve been a little stressed lately.”
your robe falls over your shoulder as you readjust your position. a few donations come in, accompanied by supportive messages.
“you guys are so nice. it’s not a big deal, it’s just this dude giving me a hard time at college.” 
you absentmindedly trace your collarbones, reading what your viewers are saying. 
“you’ll kill him for me? that’s so sweet,” you joke. “nah, it’s not a student. it’s a professor. exactly, ynlover444, a grown ass man picking on me!”
you sigh deeply, allowing your body to finally unwind and relax on your chair. you prop a knee up against the armrest, giving your viewers a little peek in between your legs. you’re wearing one of your favorite sets, trying to get in the mood after the week you’ve had. 
“ugh, sometimes i wish i could just…” you suck in a breath, clenching your hand into a fist before releasing it. “sit on his face and get him to shut up, you know?”
you laugh at the countless me firsts that flood the chat, bringing a finger to your lip. 
“anyway! enough about that horrible man,” you reach beside you to grab a box your viewers know all too well by now. “let’s get to the fun stuff, shall we?”
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as always, satoru is no help. 
“why don’t you just fuck her?” he asks, eyebrows arching above his sunglasses. “ya gotta just fuck her.”
suguru clears his throat before taking a drag of his cigarette. “i’m not fucking a student.”
satoru shrugs. “everybody does it. besides, you basically already do.” 
suguru wonders, not for the first time, why he ever told his friend about his situation. about your streams, that he’d stumbled upon randomly and innocently and had gotten instantly hooked, about you barging into his classroom like an angel at hell’s gates, about you you you you, everything about you. 
“that won’t fix anything.”
satoru clicks his tongue, swirling his soda inside the can.
“poor, naive suguru. did you not just tell me about what she said on her stream?" and yes, regrettably, suguru had told him. "it’ll fix everything.”
suguru doesn’t even let himself consider it, except he does.
at this point it’s no secret that he’s thought about being inside you, but now that you’re here it’s just too real and too risky and completely fucking wrong. 
it goes against the entire life he’s built for himself. 
he’s lost. he wants you so fucking bad, wants you close, wants you so far away, wants to ravage you and never have to see you again. 
it’s fight or flight. if he got you alone, it could go either way, he realizes that. 
suguru wonders what part of him will win by the end of all of this. 
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your heels clack on the linoleum floor of the hallway as you approach professor geto’s classroom, megumi’s graded paper clutched tightly against your chest. 
the thing about megumi is that he's a star student. he’s never gotten anything below an A on any of his essays, makes the dean’s list every year, tutors his seniors. so the big, bright B- on the page tells you everything you need to know. 
damn right it’s personal. 
you don’t even bother knocking, slamming the door open while still trying to contain your indignation. 
geto is sitting at his desk, piles of papers sprawled on top. he has his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a surprised look on his face that would be cute if you didn’t want to slap it right off. 
he says your last name like he’d been expecting you all his life.
“to what do i owe the pleasure?”
your jaw clenches as you take a few loud steps towards him. you slam megumi’s paper down on his desk, leaning over. 
“professor geto, i demand an explanation. a real one, this time.”
the man takes a deep breath, lips twisting disapprovingly. he smoothes the paper over.
“as i already explained in my notes right here, the structure is fine, but i couldn’t help but miss a more in-depth analysis of the four nodal concerns of philosophy that we talked about in class, such as—“
“no,” you interrupt. “just no. you know you’re bullshitting me and i’m sick of it. this paper deserved an A!”
“miss—“
“what’s your problem with me?” you spit out. your eyes finally meet and there’s nothing in geto’s that could answer your question. your chest is heaving, lips wobbling and hands shaking, trying to contain your anger. 
geto clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “like i said, your paper could’ve used a bit more—“
“no it fucking couldn’t have, because it’s not my fucking paper, it’s fushiguro’s fucking paper and the only reason you gave it a B is because i was the one who handed it in!”
he sits up, straightening his posture.
geto sounds austere when he asks, “do you realize how much trouble this could be for both of you if i reported it?”
you can’t believe this man. he’s been picking on you the entire semester and when you finally confront him about it this is what he chooses to focus on. 
“are you fucking kidding me?” that earns you a stern look from him, eyebrow raising taller than that fucking high horse he sits on. “professor geto. what did i ever do to you?”
there must be something earnest in your voice because geto sighs, getting up from his chair. 
he walks until he’s standing in front of you, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet. 
“do i bother you?” is all he says. it surprises you. 
you jut your chin out. “as a matter of fact, you do.”
the man hums. 
“i bet that’s really difficult for you,” he speaks like he’s sympathetic, like he understands. he sounds almost sheepish when he says, “i bet sometimes you wish i would just shut up.”
you blink rapidly. “no, it’s not like that. it might shock you but i genuinely do enjoy your class, it’s just that—“
“or maybe you wish you could shut me up,” he continues, ignoring you. “maybe going as far as to say that you could… sit on my face to get me to shut up.” 
your mouth goes dry.
before your brain can fully process the shift in the atmosphere or the fact that your professor is maybe possibly hitting on you, you realize where those words are coming from. 
it’s what you said. about him. on stream. right before fucking yourself on your hot pink dildo. 
you can’t speak, can barely even look in his general direction. 
you had really thought things couldn’t get any worse. had barged into his office with nothing to lose, almost hoping he would cordially invite you to remove yourself from his class permanently. 
but now? now you have no idea what’s going to happen to you. 
“i…” you start, the words dying in your throat. geto chuckles, crossing his fat fucking muscly arms across his chest. 
he says your name, low and syrupy. “is it true? you’d like to?”
you can feel your face flush hot in embarrassment, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, wishing desperately that you’d never walked into his classroom. 
you have half the mind to apologize to him, right now.
“it’s just a figure of speech,” you try. geto clicks his tongue. 
“what a shame.”
your wide eyes shoot up and meet his. “w-what?”
he smiles sweetly. 
“it’s a peace offering. you can take it, or we can forget you ever said anything,” and isn’t he just so slimey, actually, when he’s the one who brought it up. he had said it, and now… 
now you can finally allow yourself to look at him.
those delicious, broad shoulders, the ever-present bored look, the stubborn fringe that falls out of his bun. 
you could so easily forget what you came here for. 
“so, like, a truce?” you ask, taking a daring step forward. geto nods, uncrossing his arms. “and you stop treating me like i’m fucking dumb?”
he tilts his head. “i think you’re a very smart young lady. determined. entrepreneurial…”
“geto—“
“professor geto,” he corrects you, hands reaching out to graze your hips. “you’re intelligent. i just like to push my students.”
you both know that’s a lie, but it’s okay, because now you know exactly why you got under his skin and it makes your own burn. 
you run a hand down the line of buttons on the front of his shirt, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 
“then… push me, professor.”
it’s so incredibly lame, the porn line you hit him with, but to your surprise it works, a low groan rumbling deep in geto’s chest. 
he swiftly closes the distance between the two of you, grabbing both sides of your face and crashing your lips together. 
it’s ravenous, the way geto dips his tongue inside when you gasp in surprise. you moan against his mouth, slipping a leg in between his two. 
he’s half hard already when he rubs up against your thigh. 
geto picks you up with ease and sets you down on his desk, and it’s so fucking cliché, the papers crinkling under your weight, the pens clattering to the floor. but it turns you on beyond belief. 
you share a few open mouthed kisses, an exchange of tongue and moans and hot breaths between your lips. 
if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that you've fantasized about it before. a silly idea, at first, something you'd just blurted out mid-stream.
but that little seed had been planted, and when you got yourself off that night, you might've imagined for a moment that it was your mean professor's cock squeezed tight inside you, making you come undone.
geto slips his hands under your skirt, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. you line up your crotch with his, moving your hips in tight little circles that make the both of you groan. 
his fingers are tugging your underwear down, down, the soft patch sticking to your gooey cunt. he lets the soaked fabric dangle from your ankle, grazing the back of his knuckles on your core. 
“mmm, fuck,” geto breaks the kiss, swallowing. his pretty lips are flushed and shiny, parted around his panted breaths. “you always get this wet or am i special?”
he’s smirking, the bastard, leaning back in to kiss your neck.
god, you smell so good, like lotion and perfume and sunshine and sin. 
“shouldn’t you know?” you sneak your fingers up into his bun, pushing your chest against him. he works his lips expertly on your skin, using just the right amount of teeth, of pressure.
geto hums against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw. he snakes a hand under your skirt, thumb pressing down hard to rub on your clit, two fingers slipping inside. 
you immediately clench, a soft, drawn out mewl leaving your lips. 
the slide of his fingers against your walls send a chill down your spine, filling you up so perfectly. you feel the thin skin at your opening stretch around him, burning at the friction as his fingers plunge in and out of you. 
“god, look at that,” he rests his forehead on your shoulder and pulls the hem of your skirt up. “do you hear that, baby? so fucking wet for me.”
you whine, hands cupping his jaw so you can kiss him again. 
“please…” you mumble against his lips. “more…”
you wonder how much of what you can say he's heard before, which exact words have left your lips and sent him over the edge. it makes you self conscious, oddly, like he can see right through you.
not-so-kindly ignoring your request, geto removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth.
you watch as his eyelids flutter in pleasure, a hum rumbling low in his throat. 
he looks so good like this, just edible.
you pull him in for a kiss before he can, relishing in the surprised little noise he lets out. your knees are wobbling, feet dangling from your seat as you taste yourself on his tongue. 
he swallows your moan hungrily, forearms trembling with the need to hold back.
geto knows this is wrong, so wrong on so many levels, puts both your positions in jeopardy, it makes him feel perverted and primal and so fucking alive. 
he’s been watching you fuck yourself on those silly toys for god knows how long now, knows every spot that makes your hips buck, knows exactly how to make you cream like a debased slut around a cock. 
it should feel unfair, how easy it’s going to be for him to make you cum, only if it weren’t for the fact that your mere presence is enough to get him hard as fucking diamonds. 
“tastes good, huh?” he whispers, thumb caressing your chin. you nod, smiling devilishly. 
“tastes better on your tongue, prof.” 
geto groans low like a starved animal, holding your throat in his hand with a loose grip. he’s overwhelmed, that much shows, not knowing what to do with you or where to start. but there’s one thing he’s sure of. 
he presses one last kiss to your spit-slick lips before dropping to his knees. 
you can hardly believe it. sulky, big bad bully professor geto suguru on his knees for you. you prop a foot up on his desk, your sole skidding on a piece of paper. 
“scoot closer, please,” he asks, cordial even like this. you bring your ass to the edge of the desk, your dripping pussy hovering over his face. 
he looks so good under you, hair already disheveled, a delicious tent in his tailored pants. 
you tuck the hem of your skirt into the waistline so you can watch as he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning like he’s fucking relieved. 
you throw your head back, fingers buried in his silky hair as geto’s fingers find their way back inside. 
he fucks them in and out of you lazily, pushing out strings of slick. geto slurps it all up, spreading your wetness all over your clit and sucking it back in his mouth. 
god, his cock is straining in his pants but he doesn’t dare touch it, can’t until he’s inside you. you taste like fucking heaven, like all his fantasies, like he always knew you would. 
you’re whining softly, bucking your hips into his face almost shyly, as to disrupt his pace.
you sound so much better in person, although he can’t wait to have you moaning into his ear without needing the headphones. 
“god, this perfect pussy,” geto mumbles into you, his breathing labored. he runs a thumb all over your cunt, gliding it over your soaked lips. “been dreaming about it for so long.”
“yeah?” you ask. “tell me. tell me how you stroke your cock to me every night.”
and every night might be overselling it. geto is a busy man. 
but your words do make him realize that no girl he’s had since he found your stream has satisfied him quite like you do. your flirty smile, your moans, the way they sometimes turn into uncontained giggles as you stuff your pretty cunt with a dildo. 
so he tells you, blush spreading across his cheeks. 
“fuck, i do,” he tongues your clit, tracing lazy circles. “i do. just look what you do to me.“
and there it is, that cheeky, slutty giggle, directed at something he said this time. 
he takes his fingers out, spreading your opening with both thumbs as he licks you all over. 
geto gulps, tongue dipping inside of you, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding down to your entrance, every clench of your pussy pushing out more and more slick for him. no one's ever eaten you out as thoroughly as this.
“oh, fuck, sir,” it slips out casually, the way it would were you talking to any other professor. but given the circumstances, you revel in the deep moan geto buries into your cunt. 
you trap your lips between your teeth to keep anything else from tumbling out, but it’s useless.
“please, sir, i’m so close—so close just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“
“fuck,” he mumbles, pulling away to suck in a desperate breath. then, “fuck,” sultrier, right into your core. 
you grind against his face, finding purchase in his hair as a final few flicks of his tongue push you right into the crest of a mind-numbing orgasm.
it’s so good, so much better than when you're alone. the friction so perfect, his long, thick fingers plugging you up last minute to viciously fuck into you. 
“god…,” you breathe out, legs trembling as he runs his hands up your thighs. 
his chin is glistening, bubbles of spit and cum gathering in the corner of his mouth. he looks so good like this, like he was meant to please you and nothing else. 
geto feels like a fucking teenager, so goddamn close to busting in his pants at the sight of you. his dick hurts, balls tight and the head throbbing where it’s tucked into his underwear. 
“please, sweetheart,” he can’t hold himself back any longer, slick fingers already undoing his belt. 
you get to work on his zipper, pulling his pants down along with his underwear and damn. 
you figured he was big. he was a tall man, broad shoulders, shoes the size of a yacht, and the bulge in his trousers was a pretty good indication. but it couldn’t have prepared you for the sheer size of him. 
longer than it is thick, cleanly shaven, pretty veins and ridges and standing angry red in attention. god, you want it inside you. 
he notices you looking. 
“do you need more prep? i can—“
“no, fuck no, suguru, need it inside me now,” you wrap a hand around him and he hisses, caging you in with his arms on the desk. 
he huffs out a laugh, blowing the fringe framing his face. “what happened to sir?”
you kiss down his jaw, squeezing right below his tip. 
“sorry, sir,” you say against his ear. “are you going to punish me for my slip up?”
geto groans, pulling on your hair hard and making you face him. 
“take your shirt off for me,” he instructs, and you obey, maneuvering around his tight grip on the back of your head. 
his spirit is so unbreakable.
here you are, teasing him, coaxing him to rough you up, push you around, relieve both your frustrations properly once and for all, but he’s just so… adoring, and hungry, and just so irrevocably into you, and you find out that’s so much better. 
geto relents his hold on you to unclasp your bra, cupping your breasts and sucking a nipple into his mouth. you whine, caressing his hair. 
“so fucking perfect,” he massages your tits, looking mesmerized. 
“yeah? they haven’t gotten old to you yet?”
he laughs, so cute, and you can barely remember that just hours ago you hated the sight of him. you stroke his cock up and down, squeezing harder at the tip trying to milk all that delicious pre he’s been wasting on the inside of his boxers. 
“no, f-fuck—never gonna get old,” he pushes your boobs against each other, imagining his cock sliding in between them, his balls nestled underneath, his load blown all over your pretty face—
fuck, he’s gonna cum if he keeps going like this. 
he rips your hand away from him, ignoring your knowing smirk and pushing his tongue into your mouth. 
“i’m gonna fuck you now, okay, sweetheart?” you moan, nodding, shimmying your hips so he can have the perfect angle. 
a big hand clasps your thigh to wrap your leg around his hips as his tip pokes around your entrance.
you’re whining in anticipation, clenching around nothing, nails clawing his clothed back. 
when he slips in, it feels like coming home. you’re like warm honey around him, cunt pushing him out but clinging to him at the same time, with every stroke. it’s fucking maddening. 
“ahh, g-god, sir, ‘s too big—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat, feeling the tip of his cock in your guts. 
he’s huffing, concentrated, bullying his cock into you inch by inch with shallow thrusts until he finally bottoms out. 
“fuuuuck, angel,” he grips your waist with both hands, like he could just fuck you up and down his length if he wanted to. “took me so well, look at that.”
you do, dropping your heavy head to look at where you’re connected. you clench around him and he whines, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. 
the metal legs of the desk skid on the floor, papers and pens raining down to the floor as geto starts roughly plunging in and out of you. 
you let out little ah, ah, ahs in time with his strokes, the ache deep in your stomach finally starting to fade. 
“f-fuck, you’re gonna—topple us over, suguru, go easy—“
“can’t,” he chokes out, wheezing as he pushes his cock in as far as it can go. 
he gives shallow little thrusts, his length straining the fine skin at your entrance so good, hitting a spot inside you over and over that makes your head spin. 
your fingers twist into the back of his shirt, pulling him in to whine right into his ear.
he’s so big, stretching you out so thin that you feel every ridge and vein, can feel both your heartbeats inside your cunt. 
“ohhhhh fuck, fuck sir, please please touch me—“
he grabs your ass before you can even finish your sentence and presses you flush against his hips. 
geto’s tip is kissing your cervix now, his balls sticky and creamy against your ass, your clit grinding against his pubic bone as his thrusts violently shake the both of you. 
“fuck, wanna do it so fucking loud but i can’t, we can’t, what if someone walks in—“
you moan wantonly at his words, expecting to be chided, but geto seems to love it despite his worries because his cock kicks deliciously inside of you.
“look how loud you’re being, listen to yourself,” he grunts out, the belt pooled around his feet clanging with every stroke, the absolutely lewd squelches from your pussy resonating in the entire classroom. 
you two sound so good together, better than you’ve ever had, better than he could’ve ever imagined. 
“so loud, so wet on this cock,” he spits out, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “do those toys make you feel this good? this full? answer me.” 
“hahh, n-no, no one but you,” you can’t think straight, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes squeezed shut. “only you, sir.”
geto whines like he’s aching, pounding into you mercilessly and making a mess under the two of you. 
“fuck yeah, that’s right. i’m making you feel good, baby?”
“mm-hm,” you mumble, tongue lolling out. geto's going so hard now, has you pressed up so tight against him, body caging you in, fucking every breath and thought right out of you. “close.”
“yeah?” he speeds up his effort slightly, and you’re sure he’s going to have desk-edge shaped bruises on his thighs tomorrow. “gonna cum on my cock? cream all over me?”
you let out a long, drawn out whine, tits bouncing up and down with the force of geto’s thrusts. 
“let me see your face when you cum, darling,” he cups the back of your neck, breathing hard through his nose. “keep your eyes on me. that’s right, sweetie, so good, you’re doing so good.”
you preen at the praise, feeling suddenly self conscious with the man's laser focus attention on you. 
you coo out little noises, growing in desperation, holding onto his biceps for dear life as his hips piston in and out of you. 
your pull him into you closer and rub your clit against him, grinding helplessly as your orgasm creeps closer and closer. 
the moment you open your eyes and meet his hungry ones, you’re cumming. your walls spasm around him, making the glide of his dick impossibly wetter with your release. 
geto chokes on a sound, his cock hostage of your pussy’s vice-like grip as your greedy cunt milks him for all he's got. 
“f-fuck, baby, look so pretty when you cum, always look so fucking sexy so fucking perfect that you’re gonna make me bust, i’m gonna cum for you god gonna cum inside, gonna blow my load all deep inside this pussy—“ 
it’s the most desperate he’s ever sounded, speaking through clenched teeth and a soaked mouth. you moan in return, letting him use you. 
he slams his forehead down your shoulder when he thrusts once, twice, three times and cums, his balls drawing up so tight that it hurts. he fucks it into you with shallow thrusts, panting, almost wheezing in pleasure. 
it feels like it lasts forever, his orgasm. like all of the blood in his body goes straight to his balls to push out the thickest, most satisfying nut of his life into the prettiest girl he's ever seen.
you feel it fill you up so good, hear it, too, squelching and sticking to both of you. 
geto’s body slumps against yours and you stay like that for a while, catching your breaths. there’s cum sliding out of you, down his balls, onto some poor student’s essay you have your ass on top of. 
when he pulls out of you, he takes a beat to watch it spill out of you some more, his face and chest red, his smile groggy. 
“god, this,” geto has to fight the urge to say thank you for letting him fuck your brains out. he swallows. 
“yeah,” you blink away the haze, feeling sore and fucked out. “this.”
“…is probably going to happen again, right?”
he knows it shouldn’t. he knows it will.
maybe both parts of geto can learn to coexist.  
you grin, touching the tip of your tongue to his lips. 
“well, i still haven’t made good on that promise of sitting on your face, have i?” 
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the next morning, in class, the students erupt in happiness at the news that professor geto had an accident that ended up ruining most of last week’s graded papers he had in his possession. 
so he decided to give everyone an A for their troubles. 
and finally, finally, there was peace in the world.
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