#i mean maybe it would make this semester easier

[astranauticus]

joongdok 🤝 shiguang

ships with extremely rich associated symbolism (and lots of fanart with some absolutely incredible composition) that i desperately want to draw on but theres so much of it i have no idea where to start so i just do nothing and fume

[orcelito]

my fatal flaw . one of them. is that. i have a tendency. to trust my brain too much. but have too low of a work ethic. so im like “if i do well on the exams, then homework won’t be as important to complete”. and sometimes, this turns out okay because i do well on the exams. but if i do Not do well on the exams. it fucks me over so much

me sitting on an 84% for the first exam being like “This will surely let me pass the class” and looking at my homework assignment that draws from a prior homework assignment so Essentially i would have to do twice the work. due tomorrow night

and im just thinking to myself. “is it even worth it?”

[simpjaes]

PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM (l.hs)

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

៸៸៸ minors do not interact!

៸៸៸ simp gamer ! lee heeseung x afab reader 

 ៸៸៸ wc: 30k

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

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

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

៸៸៸ nsfw tags below

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh, furrowing your brow at her. 

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

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

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

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

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

She shakes her head with an eye roll.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There, you’re left to your own devices. 

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Someone got into the liquor cabinet?” 

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

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

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

“Sunghoon?” You ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

 “I’ll show you how to mix this one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung hopes you are too, but not for them. 

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

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

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

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

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

“All of them are, actually.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jake snorts. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ding ding ding! We have a winner. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon smiles a wicked grin, eyes narrowing at Jay. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, of course–” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m coming in!” Heeseung gripes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, what do you wanna do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I can be kind of competitive.”

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

“Do you wanna watch me play something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her. Everything was always about her. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

That’s going to change right the fuck now. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God, what’s your problem?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To you, he looks different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung rolls his eyes at your shitty attempt to lie. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

You: are you done with your game? 

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

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

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

Jay: no, but I can be. Why? 

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

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

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

“That mother fucker.”

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

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

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

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

Jay: overwhelmed how?

You: well…

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

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

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

You: im frustrated.

You: REALLY frustrated.…sexually

Jay: oh yeah? for me?

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

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

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

You: id wanna go to your house

Sunghoon: and why is that, cutie?

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

You: Jakeeeee

Jake: whaaaat :) 

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

Jake: …

You: i didn’t delete it. 

Jake: you like it?

You: maybe. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You: not yet, just this for now.

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

You: I am 

Sunghoon: yeah? thinking about me too right? 

You: yea

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

Without Heeseung. 

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

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

Jake gasps, offended.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then there’s Jake.

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

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

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

“I said, what’s u–” 

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

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

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

Excuse me?

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

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

There’s no way. 

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

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

Anger? Yes. Jealousy? Also yes.

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

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

Jake silences his laughing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Competition is what he’s best at. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

You: hey can we raincheck?

Sunghoon: no wtf? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snickers in response. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look panicked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You groan out, covering your face with both hands. 

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

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

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

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

“What are you–” 

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s real.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, you hope he fucks hard. 

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

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

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

Wait. How long have you been doing this again?

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That he was trying to come onto you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

You can’t read him. 

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

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

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

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

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

Even with all of that, he still flirts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Are you selfish or are you just desperate? 

Maybe a bit of both.

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, you just stand there, watching, waiting.

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

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

There it is again. Him acting interested. 

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

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

Except, he doesn’t do that. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh god, you’re fucking perfect. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He can feel it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re fucking crazy. 

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

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

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

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

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

Unfortunately for her though, you don’t care.

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

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

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

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

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

  Watching, watching, watching. 

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

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

And goddammit. You fucking are.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jay: take a new one, i want more material 

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

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

You: is that why he’s yelling then? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you wait. 

And you wait.

And wait.

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

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

He saw it.

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

And you wait more.

And more. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Allowing you to be pathetic. 

Allowing you to see it. 

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

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

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

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

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

Until it is, anyway. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah. 

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s when they realize.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What’s not to love about this? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Too soft.

Too different from his friends.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, Sunghoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, finally. Fucking, finally. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, they think he’s fucked you already? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah, your body is so pathetically telling, and he grants you the release of another gag by sliding his fingers out of your mouth and straight back to your warm, pulsing, hole.

Right back in, one hole filled at all times it seems, as he feeds into the whiplash he’s able to give you. You didn’t even notice how he shoves you off of his lap until you can no longer see the screen in front of you and are face to face with his keyboard. No frustrated face of Jay, no forced calm and collected expression from Sunghoon, no blatantly bitten lips of Jake. 

No, only the feeling of Heeseung chasing your hole with his fingers, your hips running from the touch due to sensitivity and buckled knees. He holds you there against his desk, standing behind you and pressing his cock between your ass cheeks. Fingers roughly rubbing your clit, sliding down to fuck into you, then out again to rub you harder.

His friends watch you try to run your lower half away from him, but his eyes stay glued to the camera, as if he’s staring into the soul of his friends. 

“You guys wanna see me fuck her?” He comments in a sly tone, cock grinding against you. “I can fuck her.” 

“Ah, Hee–” You groan as a response, listening to the slapping of palms against cocks only grow more furious and finally relaxing your body to now search for his fingers, just to push yourself back on them. “Please.”

He snickers from behind you, grabbing a hand full of hair at the back of your head as he rips his fingers from your needy hole, wiping them along your cheek as he forces you to look at him. 

“Again.” He demands, now pinching your cheeks with one hand, arching your back more by the pull of your hair. “Say, “Please, Seungie, fuck me.” He whispers into your mouth, loud enough for the mic to pick up the way you swallow around his words. 

“Say, “Please, Hee, give it to me.” He continues, making his voice higher pitched as if to mock your moans.

Sunghoon watches and listens in shock, never once wanting to know that this is how his own friend fucks someone, but goddamn. It’s like he’s just found the video on page 86 of pornhub that hit just right as he watches. Fucking up and into his fist like his life depends on it, waiting, waiting, waiting, for you to moan out just like Heeseung is telling you to. 

And it’s the fact that you fucking do, Heeseung watching the way Jake presses his entire body into his chair, staring down at himself with a fast moving palm, so fast that he can see his friend lose himself to the pleasure.

Jay, near tears in his eyes as he watches, probably moaning in your ear like a mad man right now. 

You fucking say it.

You say both, moaning in a choked gasp when you feel him stick his tip in you at it. 

“Please–” You hiccup as you try to repeat the words again and again for him. “God, yes.” You rasp out in a deeper tone at the feeling of him slide in. 

And he keeps sliding in, trying to keep himself from rolling his eyes back when he bottoms out and feels your cunt clench him as if you’ll never let it go.

And then, one quick thrust, holding your hair in his hands, arching you harder, his other hand reaching for yours and holding them behind your back, he fucks forward. 

Your tits bounce with the movement, neck strained to keep your eye on his face as you try to adjust to the full size of him entering you.

“She just takes it.” Heeseung grunts with a choked breath. “Shit, so goddamn tight.” He murmers again, nearly unable to stand on his own two feet how tight you are.

He forces you to look at him through it, squeezing your hands together so tightly through it that you can barely focus on the pain of your positioned body against the feeling of his cock splitting you open with each hard thrust. 

And then, you let out the most filthy, wet, pornographic cry. 

Heeseung then brings his attention to his monitor one last time, watching the pathetic mess of people in front of him getting off entirely on his cock driving into you. 

“I win.” He says with one pointed thrust, keeping his hips pressed against your ass and only pressing in harder, trying to reach another inch in, trying to break past whatever wall inside of you keeps him from impaling you entirely on him. 

All three friends burst into a feeling of realization, Jake already mid orgasm at the sound of that moan you just cried out– 

Then theres….nothin but the feeling of Heeseung releasing your hands and allowing you to grip his desk through this deep hold of his length inside of you. 

Suddenly, no sound through the headset, the light of the monitor in your peripheral vision goes off, and Heeseung is breaking his demeanor just to moan out in full again. 

“Drove them crazy,” He chuckles through a wet groan, now snapping his hips back and leaning forward just to push back into you, deeper, deeper, until his desk ruts against the wall with the tight hold on you. “Driving me fucking crazy.” He whispers, holding his open lips right against your neck when he hunches over in this paused thrust. 

“You looked so good.” He says again, suddenly praising you, suddenly able to relish in the pleasure he’s giving you rather than pretending it does nothing for him. 

You blink away tears, feeling your twisted and turned body, still trying to look at him through this even if he’s released your hands. 

He can see that look of realization on your face and smiles at that too before shooting his hands to your middle and forcing you back and against him. 

He keeps his dick in you, too obsessed with the drag your walls offer to him, and holds you against him just to shift to the side and press you back on the misplaced couch in the room. Man cave stuff, and alla that. 

You watch him guide you face first into the cushions before he is grabbing your hands again, holding them right back in pace behind your back with one hand, and the other pushing your face even further into the pillows. 

“You have no fucking idea, do you?” He grunts, slamming into you again, eyes glued to the way your body strains to accommodate the position he wants you in. “How much better you are?”

Oh. Really now? 

You smile through suffocated breaths, the fabric of the couch invading the taste of your own breath and forcing you to love it just as much. You bite down, listening to his spilling words. 

“Begging me like that for my friends to hear, like you didn’t know I wanted to do this?” He continues, burying himself deep again and holding it there again. “Fucking my pillow instead of me.” 

He seems a little more angry now. 

“Turning my friends on when you wanted me,” He grabs your hair again, pulling you back into that same painful arch and forcing you to stare up at the wall. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart, I would’ve given it to you every time.” 

The reality that this is not your boyfriend is so far from you right now. The fact that your sister is working away right now to pay the light bill, gonna come home later and share a bed with this man? You’re not even jealous. 

In fact? You’re on top of the world listening to him want you more. 

And at this point, Heeseung can tell you’re smiling, looking blankly at the wall and totally lost from this world. This is exactly what he wanted. 

Such a pretty little sister, winning him over the bitch that won’t even choke on his cock? It could have been so much easier for you. But this was fun for him, watching you want him and know you couldn’t have him.

Despite him proving that you could have had him any day of the week.

“All you had to do was ask.” He repeats into your ear, now slowing his pace until he pulls out. 

He takes a step back, gazing at the way your open pussy still clenches for him, the way your ass shakes slightly with your legs. 

“Aww,” He coos, blinking at you from behind and reaching forward to flip you over. “You wanted it so bad too, can’t believe you waited.” 

You see him now, fully in person rather than through the image on his monitor. His skin looks so much more full of life, cheeks tinted and hair more fucked up than you’ve ever seen it. Cock huge, weighed against his leg. 

You’re shocked you took all of it like that previously, unable to relish in the pain of it because your senses were overloaded with moans and his own boasting. 

“Your sister doesn’t have to know.” He says now, eyes trailing your body. 

“Ah–” You wince when he licks his fingers and lowers his hand to your clit, one hand spreading your legs out now that he’s got you on your back. “I really didn’t know.”

Heeseung chuckles, finding you entirely too cute and endearing as you look up at him with those fucked out lips trying not to quiver at your sensitivity. 

“You were too dumb to take a hint.” He leans forward, now, using his hand to lift your leg up to your chest, rubbing his cock right against your hole as he pulls his other hand up now, propping up your other leg. “Too stubborn to realize.” 

You nod in a slightly broken way, unsure of if you were the one putting yourself through torture, or if you really were too dumb to notice he was trying to get you to go insane for him. 

He wanted you to jump on him. He wanted you to take it like this. 

“And you won’t tell her?” You whisper now, losing the ability to think much more when he grinds himself down, keeping eye contact with you, that same smirk you both hated and loved. 

He shakes his head at you, almost sweetly when he adjusts his cock to slide in again, knocking the breath out of you with a choked moan. 

“She won’t find out if you can be quiet when she’s home.”

Oh fucking no. He wants to…continue this? This isn’t a one time thing? He’s going to try while she’s home? While she’s gone?  Arguably, you’re fucking glad.

“When she’s–?” You try to question, stopping short when he bottoms out in a groan, breathing in through his nose before lending you a tight, short thrust. 

“Mm, yeah, I’m gonna be in you every day.” He moans, thinking about the image alone of sneaking into your room while his girlfriend is fast asleep.

Fucking you in his bed. In your bed. On the shared couch. Everywhere. Everyday. 

“God, she’d hate us both.” He chuckles through the same moans he can’t stop from spilling out of his throat. “Finding out I’m so deep, so raw like this.”

Fuck. Right.

“Wait–” You come to realization, clenching from panic at the fact that a condom didn’t even come to mind. “Fuck, Hee, wait!” 

He only presses harder now, smiling at how you’ve finally managed to come to your senses. Fucking you faster when you try to wiggle your hips away. Fucking you harder, pressing his entire body weight against the back of your thighs just to force you to stay in one place. Pussy open and spread out, clenching his cock so nicely. 

“Gonna fuck you full,” He kisses your forehead with the horrifying words. “You’ll do it for me right? She won’t let me.”

Those words ring in your head. If she won’t let him, you sure as fuck will. You can deal with the consequences later. You no longer fight to pretend he’s not ramming your g-spot, forcing your voice to shake through a cry of his name. 

“I’m not–” You choke out through cries, feeling your body tense up. “I’m not on birth co-”

“Fuckkkk, yes.” He rolls his eyes back at your half spoken words, losing it at the thought of dripping his seed into you and knowing he’s sterile enough to scare you both for good. “Take it,” He thumps his cock as far into you as he can, willing you to nod your head, willing you to love this as much as he does. 

It’s the fact that you’re not trying to wiggle away now, he can feel your hole pulse at hit words, the way you want to be better than your sister, the way you’d truly let him. 

Even more the fact that you’re not the one he should be shooting his seed into. It should be your sister, the woman who wants to marry him, the woman who said she simply wasn’t ready to bear his child.  Not that you want to either, but goddamn do you want to be fucked full of the possibly, you say it yourself in a harsh grip around his neck, tugging at the long strands of hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Do it.” You whisper through hiccuped moans, his thrusts scooting you up and down on the couch at the sheer force of them. 

“Yeah,” He nods his head, pressing harder against your legs as he chases the very high you’re asking him to give to you. “You want it?” He encourages you to keep telling him. He needs you to tell him. 

You nod frantically, feeling your body tense up again, trying to reach your hands between your legs to rub your swollen clit. Shockingly, that simply touch of your fingers sends you straight over edge, cumming so hard around his deep thrusts that you can barely hear him praise you through it with drawn out groans of “Ah, you’re squeezing me–” and “Just like that, I’m–”

His voice is clear though, when his hips stutter in place and he’s holding himself still. You can feel the pulse of him releasing into you through the last moments of your orgasm. 

“Take it.” He moans. “Take all of it.” He continues, pulling out half way so that his cum drenches every part of your hole. 

There, he uses his hand to milk the rest of it out of him, eyes squeezed shut as he feels the sensation of your own orgasm only slick up the inside of you more than he is, and then– he rams back in. Pushing his cum deep. So deep that you moan at the feeling, knowing the mess is dripping down your ass, and being shoved so far against your cervix that– Well. You panic. 

Arguably, Heeseung should panic too, but he doesn't as he heaves in a deep and relieved sigh, sliding out of you once and for all. 

He just looks at you, a mess on the office couch, pussy pumped full of him, swollen, still pulsing. 

“Can I be honest?” He breathes out after running his hands through his sweaty hair, dropping them down with a slap to your now relaxed legs.

At your silence, he continues anyway. “You’ve never looked prettier than right now.” 

And, well. You realize that with those words alone, selfish and self absorbed as you relish in them, you decide you don’t care that he’s just fucked you raw without a care in the world that he just cheated on the supposed love of his life. You both have won in this situation, and pregnancy isn’t such a scare anyway when he walks away a mere minute later and comes back with a fucking Plan-B pill. 

You’re confused by it at first, popping it into your mouth and looking at him with raised brows. 

“Why do you just have these?” You ask, still catching your breath. 

“She takes one every time we have sex, even with a condom.” He rolls his eyes.  You smirk, noting how if there’s anything you do better than your sister…It’s fucking her boyfriend.

[starrvsn]

` ִ ꔫ ۫ ⊹ D.HUME ࣪ ˖ VICTORY BLISS.

﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚

PAIRING ⠆don hume x fem!reader.

CATEGORIES ⠆fluff!, lil bit of angst- drama for no reason.. for the plot HAHA, shy!don, slight ooc with the boys, don going through it, the reader is lovely i swear, the guys being the #1 supporters of don, bobby being his #1 protector, sassy!bobby, bobby’s kinda mean in this but he means well i swear!

WORD COUNT ⠆4,613 (fun!)

star left a message! this was actually my first draft i had of don and i finally came around to finishing it! this came out much longer than i expected but i hope you enjoy~!

𝟒𝟏𝟏. don finally garners the courage to ask out the girl he's had his eyes on since the beginning of the semester.

"don! hey! so how you gon' celebrate?" bobby calls, jogging up next to him. the faint sounds of the other guys’ voices behind them, they had just come back from germany and all still high from the victory bliss. don had just gotten over a horrible fever, thanks to the guys he didn't think he'd be able to row– and be there when winning gold. now that it's over, they want to celebrate as much as they can, take advantage of a golden opportunity.

"er, not sure— sleep it off maybe." don utters, stuffing his hands in his pockets as they walk further onto campus— towards their dorms, completely exhausted from traveling. the fact that they won olympic gold hadn't hit him yet and with their victory banquet in a few days time, maybe it would hit him then. the shorter man scoffs jumping in front of the taller, stopping him abruptly in his tracks.

"oh come on don, you gotta celebrate! you know soon enough girls are gonna be at your feet." bobby attests, arms flailing about in attempt to prove his point. don finds it almost comedic at how desperately bobby is trying to get through him, trying to hold back his laugh— he lets out "so?"

bobby squints his eyes looking a don incredulously "so? this time right now is your best shot— its now or never."

don could hardly speak to anyone, let alone girls— it became what he was known for. he didn't hate it because it was true, there was no room to deny it— it was just easier to manage, less to worry about but he could see where bobby was getting at, finally the narrative of seizing the moment getting through his thick skull after the many attempts of the team encouraging him to talk to girls more, so maybe this was it.

“i-i’ll think about it.” don nods, almost unsure of himself, he wasn't sure if he was saying it to satisfy his friend or to give himself some sort of encouragement. digging his hands deeper into his pants pockets. bobby’s face softens and he gives the taller male an optimistic smile, patting him encouragingly on his arm before joining the rest of the group. don heaves a sigh before continuing — his thoughts weigh his options for the rest of his walk to the dorms.

don mulls over what do over the course of a few days, with their banquet in a few days he knew had to do something soon. he had many ideas but one just kept coming back to him so he is putting all his chips in on this, hoping he doesn’t crash and burn.

don was nervous, he tossed and turned in bed just thinking about this. his heart beating loudly in his ears and almost out of his chest— he was sure people in the common room could hear it. he looks down at his feet, counting his steps as he approaches your table—trying not vomit from how on edge he was feeling. the words from bobby echoing in his head "this time is your best shot—its now or never."

taking a deep breath, he takes his gaze from his shoes to you. words couldn't describe how you looked, the sunlight peering through the window reflecting beautifully on your features making you look ethereal. he was enamored.

you were in the same physics lecture, you always sat two rows in front of him. he would catch himself drifting his eyes to the back of you head when the lecture got boring or when you turned to talk to your classmate, showing him your pretty side profile. he knew he was infatuated when you were paired during a lab and while don barely spoke– not even introducing himself. you were polite, nice and smart, a perfect trifecta. you always knew what to say and was so patient with him when you had asked him something and he didn’t respond right away. most times when he wouldn’t respond, people would get impatient or just brush him off; ignoring him completely. it was nice for someone to treat him with respect besides the guys on crew for a change.

breaking from his reverie, he realizes he’s stood before your table longer than he initially wanted to and yet you still haven’t noticed, to absorbed in your studies. don almost feels bad for interrupting and the thought of him just walking away and trying again some other day— or never crosses his mind but before he can even make up his mind, you finally notice.

"don! hi!" a soft smile peering at your lips as you stop writing, looking up at him. don's eyebrows jump in surprise, taken aback that you know him. a lump forms in his throat unsure what to say, awkwardly avoiding your gaze.

"yo-you know me?" letting his thoughts continue the conversation. he watches as you laugh- shaking your head for a moment before collecting yourself.

"it's hard to not know the stroke that won us a gold medal." you respond, voice laced with praise.

dons hand shoots up to the nape of his neck, flustered. "well i wouldn't say it was just me, it was all of us." he immediately denies, a faint blush glowing on his cheeks.

“i must give credit where it’s do, i mean you guys must’ve been amazing! well from what i heard on the radio at least.” you boast. his heart swells with pride hearing you sound so elated with how well they did— how well he did, in berlin. he felt his heart swell as you told him. his mouth runs dry as he tries to find the right words to continue the conversation and he kind of kicks himself for letting silence fall between the two of you. you speak up insisting you join him at your table, closing your books and putting them aside. he sits across from you, taking in your features that he thought about from time to time when he was away. you scoot you chair further in, knocking your foot against his, a shock coursing through him– no has ever made him feel this way.

“tell me about berlin, i heard you were feeling under the weather over there.” you start, quirking your head in curiosity awaiting his response. clearing his throat, don gathers his words.

“uh— yeah, it was an otherworldly experience. i never been out of country, out of state even but it was definitely different. an experience i would never forget” you can see his face brighten from talking about it, he speaks so descriptively about his time there it feel like you were there with him. “i was sick with some kind of bug. it was a grueling few days but was worth it after winning. it was amazing! i would do it all again if i had to.” you offhandedly realize that this was probably the most you’ve ever heard him speak and you find him so endearing as he spoke, he was so expressive when he was talking about something he was so passionate about and you loved it. you watch as he goes on about the olympics and the number of athletes he saw compete, you head rests on your hand watching him with attentive eyes letting him continue with his ventures.

minutes pass from dons tales and he realizes that he got lost in speaking about the olympics and droned on and on about it , he felt selfish for taking such time to talk about the most trivial of things— or so he thought.

“'m so sorry, i must’ve talked your ear off.” don cuts in the middle of a story he was telling, as he realized what he was doing. feeling guilty as he casts his eyes to his hands, falling quiet again. what he doesn't see is the small frown that casts on your face, your heart pangs at the thought of him thinking that what he was talking about wasn’t important, looking so dejected. a moment passes as he fiddles with his hands then he sees your hand coming into view clasping his. he raised his gaze and he sees you looking at him with a comforting smile smile.

“it’s okay, i like hearing your voice. i could listen to you talk all day” the compliment was simple but made his heart skip a beat. it’s now or never don gulps, his calloused hand encasing yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, you can tell he has something on his mind and he could take all the time in the world to say it and you would wait. “would you want to come to the victory banquet with me? it's in a few days.” his voice is timid and small, if the room was any louder you wouldn’t be able to hear what he said.

you face brightens at his proposal, accepting without a moment passing “i would love to.”

the next few days passes with a blur as don and the rest of the team were whisked away to do interviews and photoshoots on their ground breaking win. it all happened so fast and before they knew it; it was already the night of the banquet.

you had promised don you’d meet outside of your dormitory so you could walk together to the hall. he gets there a bit earlier than you were promised to meet, he was nervous— maybe that being the reason he didn't want to be late and have you waiting outside for him. a cool summer breeze passing through as he leans against the brick ledge accenting the dorm building, soon moments turn into minutes and it crosses don's mind that you might have stood him up.

the thought makes him feel hopeless, pulling up his sleeve to reveal his art deco watch- a gift from coach ulbrickson, it was 6:40. 10 minutes had passed since your agreed meeting time. soon 10 turns into 20, he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt but you made him feel like a fool— embarrassed that he stood outside of the girls dormitory looking like some kind of perv. he rubs the back of his neck in frustration as he pushes himself off the brick wall, ready to leave. a part of him wants to wait— the part of him that hopes you lost track of time and were rushing out to him but to no avail. even in the moment more he waits, he ends up leaving with his heart heavy and pride wounded.

he thought you weren't like the rest. he was so sure you were different from the people who gave him odd looks or comments on how quiet he was. it makes him wonder if you even meant anything in the library that day, weighing heavy on his mind as he walks to the banquet, alone and dejected.

don was acting quieter than usual.

which, for anyone who wasn't close with don wouldn't have noticed but the guys on crew— who he spent almost everyday with, noticed. it was abundantly clear as they sat around the table at the banquet enjoying their dinner. usually don would laugh along with the jokes being made, react to when someone was telling a story— it was a small tells that he was having a good time but there was none of that. he sat in his seat— eyes casted down on his plate, pushing around his peas. there was something obviously on his mind; the guys could tell. they pass knowing glances around each other, unanimously decided they just had to know what was wrong.

"hey don, you okay?" joe speaks up besides don. he has a blank stare down his plate, lost in his thoughts not paying attention to the current conversation at hand. "don?" joe calls again, nudging his arm against don's, snapping him from his reverie. looking over at joe like a deer caught in headlights.

"i said are you okay?" joe repeats himself, his mates looking at him with concerning gazes awaiting his answer.

"hm, yeah— 'm fine." don lamented, sounding like he was more trying to convince himself rather than his friends. they had wondered where he was before the banquet started and didn't see him until the dinner. bobby raises his worry for don, the other boys agreeing. don continues to deny but they weren't going to let it go. he should be enjoying winning gold at the olympics, something never done before in UW history— they didn't want whatever was on his mind to hinder that.

"come on don, you can trust us— whatever it is we'll understand, even give you advice if you need." roger speaks up this time, his voice laced with comfort. as much as the guys teased and joked, they truly cared about each other— after all the hardships they went through together, they stuck close. the quieter male was heavy with emotion and with a lot of his mind. he confines in them, a reluctant sigh passing through him as he tells them— he wonders what went through your head the day he spoke to you and the days leading up to tonight. he was excited to see you again, talk to you, get to know you even better but it was all thrown out the window when you flaked on him. don tries to not miss any details and by the end of his explanation, the boys were feeling a mix of emotions. some felt bad that don went through all that— going out of his element to ask out a girl he was interested in and other were upset that you'd have the balls to stand up someone with the purest intentions. it's hard to dislike someone who you've never met but after hearing what was weighing heavy on don's mind, bobby had made up his mind that he didn't like you. though he would never tell don but if he were to ever come across you, he'd be sure to give you a piece of his mind.

don doesn't see you as the days pass.

he continued to wonder how you were, what you could be going through. he couldn't bare the thought of something bad happening to you and as much as the guys tried to steer him away; his mind always came back to you. practice helps him take his mind of you for a few hours, he knew better than to slip up during their practices— their tireless efforts to get better never ceasing even after their win.

it was around evening time when practice ends. they’re tired; mentally and physically— it’s been a rough week in general. the last thing don expects is you standing at the entrance of the shell house, rocking on your heels. don stops dead in his tracks, his jaw slacks and heart drops. he doesn't notice bobby almost bumping into his whilst walking closely to catch up to him.

huffing, bobby was about to ask him what was the matter when he follows the line of sight of his friend, before either two of them could say anything— bobby is trudging towards you, don just letting him go, still shocked.

"are you y/n?" a man with cloudy blue eyes glares at you, he stands square; inches away from you. his presence intimidates you— you glower under his gaze unable to stand your ground. you can barely speak up against him.

"y-yes, is don around?" your eyes wander behind him and you see don standing a few feet back. you try to move around the man in front of you but he stops you.

"who the hell do you think you are huh?" he accuses, leaving no room for you to respond as he begins again "you charmed don and lead him on— you made him get his hopes up! you know i'm the one that encouraged him to take advantage of this *pure winners bliss* but you just had to come around and screw it up huh? made his biggest fear come true and for what—? to make don the laughing stock for your friends? he had the best intentions you know, all he wanted was for you to give him a chance and it was just flushed down the drain!” the man was fuming, unable to keep his voice level as his emotions got the best of him. soon the guys who were still getting dressed peeked out to see what all the commotion was about. a heavy silence falls between the two of you, tensions high. you feel small in front of him as he berated you about what happened with don. your eyes cast down, wringing your fingers as you tried to compose yourself.

don heard everything, watched as bobby yelled at you for everyone to hear— he should've stopped him, stopped him from even approaching you in the first place but he couldn't, he froze in his spot the second he saw you, he felt *awful*— what happened a few days ago on the back burner. it wasn't until it was over don suddenly gained feeling in his legs again. he hadn't felt this nervous since their race in the olympics. as he nears the two of you he hears you speak up. voice small and meek.

"i deserved that."

their coxswain huffs– brows furrowed “you know what you don’t deserve? his forgiveness because—“

“that’s enough bobby.” don rests his hand on his friends shoulder, motioning for him to go. bobby was hesitant but reluctantly, he leaves but not before giving you another glare. that leaves you with don, the resting frown on his face as he looks at you– you avoid his eyes, sheepish and feeling embarrassed for what happened. you didn't even know how to begin, you weren't sure if he would even listen to you, give you the time of day but you wouldn't know unless you tried.

“don i–“

“let’s take a walk hm?” he starts past you before you have a chance to reply, following after him as he walks down the port. there’s knots piling in his stomach as he walked ahead, his fists balled so tight in his pockets they began to feel numb, he had no idea how to go about this. he wasn’t even sure if he was ready to forgive you— but after seeing you get yelled at and berated by bobby, something inside him felt off. he couldn’t stay mad at you forever, the least he could do is hear you out.

the water splashing against the wooden beams of the deck fills the silence as don stops at the end, his back facing you. hands stuffed in his pockets and heart heavy. he didn’t say anything as moments pass so you take it as your cue to speak.

“don… i know i have no place in apologizing but i’m sorry and i understand if you never want to talk to me or forgive me for what i did” you pause for moment, watching his back– waiting for him to say something but you’re met with silence so you continue.

“i-i really wanted to go with you, i did! i was looking forward to it all week… i had a dressed picked out and everything! but when the day came—" you fault for a moment, your hands fiddling with your sleeves. eyes cast down "m-my parents called and my sister got into an accident… i went home for a couple of days and the whole time i was there; i just felt horrible for leaving you, and knowing how much i hurt you. i would make it up to you any way i can if you let me…”

the silence was deafening, you try your best from losing composure and crying on the spot. overcome with emotion— the silence was killing you as you waited for don to say something, anything— he could tell you he didn’t want to see you ever again and that would be enough for you.

"is your sister alright?" you let out a sound of surprise when he asked, doe eyes looking at him. he’s turned around now– the sun setting a glow that illuminates against his figure. you eyes focus on his face, nose slightly red from the cold.

"yes, she's perfectly fine now." you nod, wringing your hands. tears threatening to spill as you look at him.

don turns to look at you with a mix of emotions, his eyes filled with hurt and longing. you can see the conflict in his expression as he tries to process what you've said. after a moment of silence, he takes a step closer to you, closing the distance between you.

“you really hurt me you know.” he utters, voice fragile.

“yes and i would do anything to remedy that—” you’re desperate for his forgiveness, your voice sounding aspirated as you tell him. you’d go to the ends of the earth just for him to forgive you.

“and yet no matter how much i felt hurt by you, i couldn’t get you out of my mind.” he confesses, his voice soft and vulnerable. "i was angry and disappointed, but deep down, i still cared about you."

tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his words. the weight of the misunderstandings and missed opportunities of that day feels heavy on your shoulders. you reach out and gently take don's hands in yours, holding them tightly.

"i'm so sorry, don," you whisper, your voice filled with remorse. "i never meant to hurt you, i should’ve told you somehow… i’ve never regretted anything more in my life.”

don's grip on your hands tightens as the other dabs at the tears that fallen on your cheeks, his gaze never leaving yours.“i’ve never felt this way about anyone y/n, i hope you realize. you plague my mind day and night, these past few days where i was supposed to be upset with you; i was worrying if something bad happened, how you were feeling, what you were thinking.” he confesses, sorrow and regret lacing his voice “i thought what happened that day would make me loathe and resent you for hurting me… but i could never hate you, i can’t let what happened define our relationship.”

you look up at him with a glimmer of hope. you watch as he takes a deep breath, standing ever so closely.

“i want us to start again.” dons eyes shine a soft amber as he looks down at you, the sun encasing his features with a soft glow. illuminating the freckles that litter his face; imitating a galaxy of stars. he’s a dream come true.

a smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you feel a sense of relief wash over you. his expression softens as he sees the smile he’s come to adore so much, the tension that had been building between you starts to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and comfort.

“i promise, i will never hurt you like that ever again.” you say, your voice filled with earnest. don feels as if hes back in the common room with you, talking to you for the first time. he’s lovestruck and there was nothing that could happen that would get rid of it. he’s sure you’ll never do anything to break his trust again, your devotion now so clear to him.

“i know.” a crooked grin plastered on his lips, his arms wrapping around you in a soft but tight embrace. as if he were to let go you’d be gone again. he felt content, all the stresses from the week leaving him as he’s in your arms. a feeling he will never tire of.

“so how should we properly start again?” you breathed, your face incredibly close to dons. a soft flush crawling on your neck as you flicker from his lips to his eyes, him doing the same. it feels as if time stops as you share this moment together, drawing closer until your lips touch. the kiss is slow and tender— moving slowly as he relished on the way your lips feel on his. they’re soft and plush, fitting perfectly against his, like a breath of fresh air. he thought about what it would feel like to kiss you but nothing could compare his thoughts to the real thing. it was just you and him. his his hands rest against on your hips pulling you flush against him, your arms around his neck as he slightly dips you back. passion growing ever so slowly as he continues to kiss you, his kisses becoming more heated, the addictive feeling of your lips on his. he couldn’t get enough of you.

you break away from him reluctantly, mirrored heavy breaths as you look at each other with affectionate gazes. he clears his throat, composing himself. he pushes your hips back to create space between you. trying to fight the nerving urge to kiss you again as he looked at your rose tinted lips.

“i propose we properly take advantage of this winners bliss everyone keeps talking about.” a giggle escapes you as you embrace him again, this time he twirls you, in your own little world—happy with a profound adoration for each other. the sun setting behind you, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink.

the fact they won gold really hitting him now, considering he had a win of his own.

bonus.

“bobby! what could i do for you?” your brows jump in surprise as you look up from the book you’re reading, you had thought it was don since the spot you were in wasn’t as well known, the last person you expected to see was bobby.

“i just wanted to apologize about what happened… a week ago.” he trails off, looking sheepish in front of you. a stark contrast to the man that defended his friend so willingly against you.

“did don send you here?” you tease, a playful smile on your lips. bobby huffs, denying immediately. no, don did not send him to apologize. he came on his own accord, after what happened that evening. don was lovesick the moment he entered the dorms and bobby felt terrible for what he had did, even if he thought you deserved it at the time. he knows now that you make his friend happy and that’s all he cared about.

“don’t worry bobby, i forgive you. i needed that berating, i deserved it. you’re a really good friend to don you know.” you state matter-a-factly. looking at him with appreciation, bobby’s chest puffs at your praise. he crosses his arms over his chest, proud.

“oh i know, i was the one who encouraged him to go for it remember?” you laugh, nodding.

you guess you have bobby to thank for this, you'd have to mention this to don later... speaking of you'd have to tell you're friends about your new lover... speaking of friends:

“hey you’re not seeing anyone by chance?” you suddenly ask, bobby falters—taken aback from your question.

“uh, no. why?” he responded, his head quirking in curiosity from the sudden and a bit uncalled for question.

“no reason, i just feel like a friend of mine would really like you.” you shrug, returning to your book. bobby takes the book from your hands, resting it on the table.

he takes a seat across from you, his hands laced together. as if in a business meeting “say no more, what’s her name?”

he’s all in.

(this is how you and bobby became bffs btw.)

stars ending-ment! i honestly love how this came out and omg is this a segway to a bobby fic????? who knows... it could be hehe. (lmk if you guys would want that lol)

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

[paper-mario-wiki]

I'm sure you've been asked this before, but I need a source who isn’t wildly out of touch with what it's like to be a normal person. how financially viable was it to move to japan as a 20/21 year old? did you move there with assistance from a study program? were you able to afford everything relatively easily without an extreme amount of financial stress? sorry for being nosy. I dont need specifics, I'm just terminally curious for a firsthand account from a person who isn't independently wealthy or a 70 year old retiree. ❤️

For one semester of tuition I (my parents) paid:

$5000 without scholarship

$3000 with scholarship

Scholarship was granted on the basis of academic promise and financial guarantor status, and some students had their fees reduced by 75% and 100%.

Tuition was the thing my parent's helped me with the most, as they had saved up for all my siblings to go to college, and only my sister and myself did. But like I said, there was also significant tuition help for students worldwide at my school. Everything else I paid myself.

Before I moved I made sure I had no less than $5000 in pocket money for paying my move-in fees at my apartment, getting a Japanese phone, bank account, insurance, and a bike. After that, home appliances and necessities. When you make your budget, you always want to over prepare. I made sure I had $1000 wiggle room on top of my budget because once youre there, YOURE THERE and home is a long puddle away.

My rent was $600 for a small 1 room apartment (pictured here) that I would have paid less for if I spoke Japanese (paid the gaijin tax by going through an english speaking rental company)

I chose this apartment because of its proximity to the Karasuma subway line, which I could ride directly to school. There and back was about $4 a day, as I went all the way up town. I paid about $40 in utilities on low-use months, and up to $120 on high-use months.

Monthly insurance was $70 without student subsidy, I believe closer to $10 monthly with it. This covers basically everything healthcare-wise.

Food was cheap in Kyoto specifically. Most restaurants had meals under $10, and if you're moving there for school theres a high liklihood you'll be in the city, which means you'll rarely be more than a 3 minute walk from a convenience store which has lunch sets you can take home or reheat and eat in the konbini's sitting area (not guaranteed to have one but more frequent than not having one). I spent maybe a few hundred monthly on meals, mostly because I couldn't cook due to how small my kitchenette was (it's that little stall in the back left corner of the room in the picture).

As an international student, if you're performing above a certain threshhold in your studies you can get a baito visa, meaning on top of your studies you can work a part time job for up to 20 hours a week. This can help a lot, and I knew a few people who worked at clubs, as translators, and as baristas.

If you are making money, you are expected to either pay tax to Japan, or your home country. This is something I absolutely cannot give advice on.

All that said, in my case, living in Japan as a solo adult was easier and significantly more affordable than living in the US with 3 roommates.

[katherinezeetajones]

Brusquely, Ava

Summary: Ava is annoyed by your presence... but what annoys her more is the way she's annoyed with you is somehow different from the way she's annoyed with Janine. set somewhere around the finale of season 1.

Ava Coleman x f reader | reluctant enemies to friends to... 👀❓

"Morning, principal Coleman," You greet your new workplace principal as she walk past you in the hallway, 7 o' clock in the morning.

She whips her head around to face you, miffed. "Did we hire interns from build-a-bear or something? What's up with that thing going on with your face?"

"Uh, I'm smiling... and I'm the new teacher... that you hired last week? This... this is my first day," You explain, a little put off by the bluntness and... frankly, rudeness of her.

Ava looks you up and down, head to toe... and she shakes her head with a small groan. "Great. Look, the district knew we were in need of one more teacher for the semester, so I just picked the sexiest sounding name of the roster, I didn't think it'd be a woman, let alone a... you type," she emphasized the you with a gesture of her hand, making circles around you.

"You type?"

Ava sighs. She stops walking along the hallway, and you stop following her. "Yeah, like Janine. You're a... you know, the annoying type,"

You crease your eyebrows in confusion. "I don't follow,"

"you'll see what I mean," she waves you off, speeding up the rest of her walk to the principal's office, leaving you miffed in the middle of the school's hallway.

—

You, in fact, did not see what she mean.

You're in the teacher's lounge, immediately welcomed by none other than the Janine that Ava was comparing you to.

"so, this is Gregory... He's a cool guy, if you catch my drift," Janine introduces you to your new colleagues, and you shake Gregory's hand. Gregory comes off aloof, but you can tell he has a big heart, and maybe a bit of a thing going on for Janine.

Janine takes you along on her impromptu tour, introducing you to Barbara and Melissa, busy in their own world. Then to Jacob, who is the personification of pumpkin spice latte.

By the time your breaks are almost up, you stop walking around the lounge, asking Janine to sit with you. "Thank you, Janine, for giving me the grand tour..."

"no problem," Janine shrugs with a smile, her energy infectious. "We gotta have each other's backs, y'know? Otherwise, we'll get steamrolled by private school teachers,"

"speaking of teachers..." You remembered your conversation with Ava earlier in the morning. "Do you know what the deal is... With our principal?"

Janine's face scrunches up a little. "Well, that's Ava... She uh, she can be a bit..."

"tone deaf," Barbara chimes in, books in her hand, giving you a small nod before going to her class.

"insensitive," Melissa adds on, leaving the lounge right after Barbara.

Gregory stands up, shrugging at you as a form of sympathy before he too, leaves the lounge.

Janine turns back to you, nodding with pursed lips. "Yeah, what they said,"

"...but she's got to be good at her job, right? Otherwise, why would she be a principal?" You argue, which Janine winces at with narrowed eyes.

"well..." Janine sucks in her cheeks, clicking her tongue, unsure of how to address it. "There was this whole... blackmail situation..."

Your eyes widen. "She blackmailed someone to give her the job?"

Janine stands up abruptly, picking up her things for class. "I didn't say that—you connected the dots yourself—Speaking of, I'm running late for class. I'll see you later, bye!"

...And she's gone like the wind. You end up with more questions that answers when it comes to the principal.

—

A few weeks after, you've found your rhythm, your kids already accustomed to your methods, and you love teaching—that part comes the most naturally. The socializing with other teachers part? That's a bit harder. But everybody is kind and welcoming, making settling in to this new job easier.

Ava, however, is still one big mystery to you.

She's hot and cold. She makes tiktok videos in her office, for whatever the hell of a reason instead of her job. She has a side job of selling her old blouses on the internet, and uses the school as the return address. She's unfriendly towards Janine, yet Janine doesn't even seem phased by this?

And her treatment towards you... Oh boy... It's weird.

Right now you're with the school on an excursion to the zoo, the sun high in the sky with the temperature to match. You herd your kids to the elephants area, and there you find Ava again—taking selfies with her leopard printed, finely fitting top in front of the exhibits.

"principal Coleman," you call out to her. "You're blocking the kids' view,"

She lowers her phone to look at you, unamused. "I am the view."

You sigh. "Can't you take turns with the elephants being the view? The kids have been wanting to see these elephants for some time now,"

Ava scoffs. "Lollipop Guild, I know you didn't just compare me to an elephant,"

"I didn't—that's not—" you try to explain your way out, but she stops you with a pat on your shoulder.

"I'm messing with you, kidz bop Black Widow. Go do your thing," she gives you a small chuckle as she walks past you, finding the next exhibit to be her backdrop of choice.

You watch her go, astonished at her nonchalance.

Melissa stops by with her kids to the exhibit right next to yours, pursing her lips with resignation. "Ava busting your chops?"

You shrug. "Not really. I mean, I know she busts everyone's chops... But it feels like... Whenever she's about to bust my chops... She just, stops halfway?"

Melissa scoffs at the sentiment. "Then she must want something from you,"

"I don't have a social media presence she can profit off," you explain, eyebrows raised.

"eh, then I got nothing," Melissa shrugs, turning her attention back to her kids.

—

As the excursion is coming to an end as evening comes, you guide your kids back into the assigned bus. You look around, seeing if anyone is missing, but they're all accounted for.

You look around the other way, and Ava is off in the distance, looking lost.

'Just ignore her, she's probably trying to pull off a scheme to trick hot dads into helping her or something...'

You hand the reins to Melissa to help guide your kids into the bus, and you make your way to Ava.

Near the shrubberies, you find Ava crouching, looking confused. "Lost something?" You ask her.

She looks up at you, slightly disappointed. "Well, I'd hoped one of the hot dads coming here would be the one approaching me, but whatever,"

You sigh, and turn on your heels to walk back to your kids. 'so it IS a scheme.'

"wait, dance of the sugarplum fairy," she stops you, and you turn around with a sigh at her umpteenth nickname for you. "I did lose my phone. One of Barbara's kids needed to call her mom, and I should've known better than to let a preschooler borrow my phone,"

You wordlessly crouch down next to her, helping Ava look. "Didn't take you for the type of person to let a kid use your phone,"

Ava scoffs. "And I never will again. I hate teaching,"

"but you're the principal," you're miffed, spreading your hand under the shrub, trying to feel for the phone.

Ava shakes her head. "Didn't anyone tell you? I got this job after blackmailing the superintendent, caught him cheating on his wife,"

You raise your eyebrows, looking at her. "That's one way to get a job,"

"what? Gonna say what I did was morally bankrupt?" Ava scoffs, expecting you to live up to the type she assigned to you.

You shake your head. "Was it wrong? Yeah. But... You do care about the kids,"

She laughs dryly at your sentiment. "Don't make me look like a softie. That's your job,"

"I'm not like Janine," you roll your eyes. "She's a better person than me—and a bigger softie,"

"yeah, barbie and the nutcracker? You and your pastel cardigans wanna argue that?"

You laugh. Okay, the nicknames are funny. Ava sees you laughing, which softens her gaze at you. "I like soft colors, doesn't mean I'm soft. I used to get into fights all the time,"

Now it's Ava's turn to be surprised. "As a kid?"

You shake your head, now your search for her phone moving its directions further away from the buses preparing to leave. "No, as an adult. I was once in one of those illegal underground boxing rings,"

She laughs in disbelief. "Yeah, right. And your opponents are clouds?"

You laugh with a little shake of your head. "Sure. If the clouds were 7 foot tall bodybuilders who could give you spinal damage,"

She looks a bit put off—but she shakes it off, standing up to look for her phone elsewhere. "Damn, Odette. Didn't peg you as a street fighter. But I guess it made sense from when I saw your abs,"

You follow her into the sea life exhibit, miffed. "Saw my abs?"

"yeah, you know, when you're changing?"

"when did you get to see that?" You ask, astonished.

"last week, when Jamal spilled spaghetti sauce all over your hello kitty blouse and you had to change in the janitor's closet?"

Your eyes widen. "But I closed the door—"

"didn't close it enough," Ava shrugs, but you swear you saw a tinge of flush on her cheeks as she said that.

'oh,' you think to yourself. "Ava..."

Ava looks directly through you. She pushes past you, looking over the railing of an emu exhibit. She turns to you, alarmed. "Found it,"

She points at a vaguely brick shaped object near the rocks in the enclosure, and sure enough—it's Ava's phone. You look at her. "Great, then...?"

She doesn't move. "Well," she crosses her arms. "I'm not getting my hands dirty,"

You sigh. You climbed over the railing, alarming one nearby zoo staff.

"Cirque Du Soleil, what the hell?" Ava widens her eyes in shock, gripping the edges of the railings to get a better look at what you're getting yourself into.

You carefully look around, wary of the emus. You find Ava's phone lying on the dirt, and you grab it.

"ma'am, you can't be in there!" One of the zoo staff flags you down, but doesn't get in to the enclosure.

"yeah, I got that," you purse your lips, climbing your way back up to the main path. With the staff helping you, you manage to get back on the path, to a worried looking Ava.

"why did you do that?" Ava asks you as you hand her her phone, all sorts of troubled expression on her face. "I mean, I get that I'm sexy and everybody wants me, but—"

"that's precisely why," you plainly answer.

"what?" Ava does a double take.

"you wanna get coffee sometime?" You shoot your shot. Hell, you've just been into an emu's enclosure. You still have some courage and andrenaline left.

The zoo staff slowly backs out of the conversation, turning the other way.

Ava looks at you, weighing her options while clicking her tongue. "Hm," she seems to ponder. "Saturday, 3pm."

"Cuppa Joe's?" You confirm.

She nods, flicking her hair back with an enigmatic smile. "And don't go thinking I'll play favorites when we're on the job,"

You laugh. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Ava's fluster turns into one of disgust when she looks down on your pants, all dirty from the emu enclosure. "Get yourself cleaned up, Patrick Swayze. We're not dirty dancing in the bus."

Laughing, you walk with Ava back to one of the buses, the bus driver already waiting for the two of you at the door.

This was an excursion for the ages!

[song-witch]

Want Doesn't Equal Need

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Word Count: 4,854

Warnings: Unspecified age gap (Nat is older), heavy makeout session.

Summary: Nat and Wanda have been going on strong for over a month, but will a little secret ruin what they have?

Part One Part Three

A/N: i wrote this all within the last 30 hours :)

Wanda groaned at the sound of her alarm, eyes slitting open as she blearily tried to turn it off before it woke the twins. The chances of it waking them was slim: the phone was maybe half a foot away from her and on the third lowest volume. If motherhood had taught her one thing, it was that you could never be too quiet.

She lifted her head just enough to see her babies, making sure they were still asleep and breathing before rolling onto her back. They had been changed fed just over half an hour ago, so they wouldn’t need to be fed for a while, but it never hurt to check. If one look was enough to soothe at least a little of her anxiety, so be it.

The sound of sharp cries pulled her out of sleep, reaching for her phone. She did a double take as she realized it wasn’t her alarm and instead was the twins, nearly shooting out of bed to attend to them.

“Good morning.” Wanda mumbled through a yawn, flashing a tired smile at the oldest of the twins as she leaned over to pick him up. It hadn’t taken long to learn which cry was who’s and what it meant, easily being able to tell the twins apart at three months old. She gave the same greeting to the younger as she picked him up, easily falling into their morning routine.

While it was out of the norm for either of them to be crying before she was awake, it wasn't impossible and she merely shrugged it off. She had read somewhere babies had an internal clock, though it wouldn’t develop fully for a few more months. Whatever it may be, she was glad the three of them had fallen into a schedule, well, whatever you could consider a schedule for newborns.

“Just give me a second here, Tommy.” The brunette spoke tiredly, sitting against her mountain of pillows with her feet planted on the mattress, knees in the air. Billy was laid on her thighs as he was the calmer of the two at the moment, needing her free hand to take her shirt and bra off. While feeding them simultaneously had proven to be a hassle multiple times, it had also proven to be the most effective method of handling twins as a single mother.

"I know you’re hungry, bud.” Wanda rocked him as best as she could, transferring him to her left arm. Neither of the boys needed help latching, hadn’t for upwards of two months, but it was still easier to hold whoever needed to start nursing first in her non-dominant arm and then hold the second with her dominant arm.

“See? You’re okay, bubs.” The student murmured softly, splitting her attention between the two as she picked up Billy, situating him on her right side with a soft sigh. She leaned her head back, letting her eyes flutter shut while the twins ate. She didn’t know why she was so tired all of a sudden. While she hadn’t gotten a full night of sleep in months, the twins had been sleeping exceptionally well the last few nights, meaning she too had been actually sleeping.

Obviously she knew she would be playing catch up with her sleep; the twins had just turned three months just over a week ago, though she knew she was far from any of them sleeping through the night anytime soon. Still, she had easily slept over six hours last night, the most she had gotten on a school night since starting fall semester. Whatever it may be, she was tempted to fall back asleep and wait for her second alarm, even though it wouldn’t be more than five minutes at the most.

“Wanda. Are you up?” The pounding on her bedroom door had her wincing, begrudgingly opening her eyes. She had all of ten seconds to pull her comforter over herself, well as much as she could, before her door was shoved open, Pietro standing in her doorway. He was dressed in shorts and a muscle tank, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe of her room. She was sure he’d never learn how to wait before barging in. It was a brother thing, she supposed.

“I am now.” Wanda met his eyes with a straight face, clearly unamused. It wasn’t because she was feeding the twins: she’d be more concerned if he asked her to cover herself up because he was uncomfortable, with how many times he had walked into her room without so much as knocking. He, at the very least, had learned to do that much.

“Am I watching them today or not?” Pietro huffed, rolling his eyes. Sassy man apocalypse. It was unfortunate, really. He was such a good brother, she didn’t know why he had to be an asshole sometimes. It was a brother thing she supposed.

“You said you would?” Wanda fixed him with a stare, shaking her head just slightly. School had started a month and a half ago; why was he questioning the schedule they had made? Granted, she had to remind him everyday he watched them. Whatever. He was the only one she truly trusted watching the twins and was beyond grateful, even if he could be the most annoying human. She’s sure he cries more than the twins combined.

“You weren’t responding to my texts.” He shrugged, biting out of an apple that seemed to appear out of thin air in his hand. He did that a lot. Which was weird considering how Wanda notices just about everything. Like how both of his socks had holes and he wouldn’t buy another pair because they were ‘still good’. His words, not hers.

“What time is it?” Wanda couldn’t exactly look at her phones, the twins still in her arms. That was weird, though. Wanda was almost always up earlier than him, especially after having the twins. She liked to joke that they were her own personal alarm clock; waking her up at hours that Pietro considered bedtime. Pietro just said she was getting old and her jokes were getting lame.

“Like… nine.” He looked at his phone, turning it towards her. It was two minutes before nine. Fuck. She was supposed to be up by eight and leaving by nine thirty. She was so fucked. Her alarm went off. But that was the first alarm, not her second one.

“Fuck. Are you- you’re joking.” Wanda sat up, wincing slightly as the twins didn’t appreciate the sudden change in position. She mumbled a soft sorry to them, her comforter pooling around her stomach. She hated her stomach. Didn’t want to think about how disgusting it had become after giving birth. She’d do it again if it meant having her babies. “Why would I-”

“Get out! I- oh my god.” Wanda was vaguely aware of the fact that she had gone to bed without shorts on. It had become more common since she started seeing Nat, a side effect of falling asleep after a single orgasm, she was sure. That and she didn’t anticipate her brother waking her up. “I don’t have clothes on!”

Pietro made some sort of barfing sound before turning, closing the door behind her. Realistically, there was nothing she could do until the twins were done eating. She still stood up, using her foot to find the pair of leggings she had worn the day before. Nat had said they made her ass look fat, that she needed to buy more flair leggings because there was just something about them. She had also said her tits looked good in a nursing bra. Wanda wasn’t so sure about that.

It took longer than she would’ve like to find them, flinging them onto her bed before searching for some kind of top. Tommy had stopped eating and had started fussing. She couldn’t do much but rock and shush him. She caught herself in the mirror, stopping almost immediately. She had no time to do her hair or makeup.

“C’mon Billy. I need you to hurry up.” Wanda glanced at the younger of the twins, her eyes flitting between the two. It was a habit of hers. Making sure they were both here. That they were actually hers.

As soon as he finished she was burping them, standing topless in the middle of her room. It didn’t take long before they were both situated in their bassinets, both fed and happy. Wanda was neither of those things. She felt like one of those old shows where they ran around like a madman trying to find something. She was running around like a madman trying to figure out what she was doing. She pulled on her pants and a sweatshirt, hair tie held in her mouth as she roughly brushed her hair back into a snarly ponytail. She’d fix it later.

“I didn't have time to pump, so this will have to do.” Wanda was laying the twins in Pietro’s arms before taking two frozen baggies out of the freezer, running the faucet while she got her backpack ready. She was throwing random things in there; notebooks, her laptop, a random bar sitting on the island. A bowl was filled with warm water, the two baggies tossed in there before she put them in the fridge. “You know where all their stuff is. Milk is in the fridge.”

Wanda shrugged her jacket on, pulling her backpack on after and her hair out of them, walking towards the living room. She kissed both of the babies foreheads, telling them both she loved them before she was pulling on her shoes and out the door. It was 9:38. She’d make it on time. Hopefully.

*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*\/*

Wanda knocked lightly at the door, a nervous smile pulling at her lips caught between her teeth. She had an hour before her next class and while she’d normally eat lunch, she had an appetite for something other than eating. She wasn’t sure what she was doing. Apologizing, maybe. Begging if called for. She wouldn’t be against it if it was asked.

“Come in.” The professor’s voice flitted through the door, a familiar coolness she had become accustomed to. The brunette took a deep breath before pushing the door open, gauging the reaction of the teacher. The woman’s face morphed into something between surprise and happiness. That was a good sign. Wanda shut the door behind her, slowly approaching the desk. Cautiously.

Wanda smiled as the woman pushed her chair out from the desk, all but pouncing on her. She wasn’t even fully straddling the woman before she was kissing her, attempting to thread her fingers through red hair. Of course this was the one day the redhead wore her hair in a bun.

“Good afternoon to you too.” Natasha spoke slowly, a certain rasp accompanying her tone. It only made Wanda want her more, fully settling into her lap and attaching her lips to the others once again. She didn’t know why she was so needy all of a sudden, wanting nothing more than to have hot office sex with the woman, no cares about the outside world.

“Less talking, more kissing.” Wanda mumbled as she trailed her lips down the redhead’s neck. It was a mix between kissing, biting and sucking, beyond sure she would leave bruises. She smirked smugly, knowing Nat would have to fumble with foundation before the meeting or walk out of it with a bruised neck. Both options sounded amazing to her.

“I saw you two days ago-” Nat was cut off by Wanda kissing her hard, their lips smacking. The brunette ground against her pelvis, tugging the redhead’s hands onto her waist. For as touchy as she was when they were at her house, she was lacking greatly all of a sudden.

“Two days too many.” The student pulled back just slightly, fixing the woman with a stare. She wanted Nat to get the hint and, at the very least, touch her. A quickie would be even better. That made her stomach drop, barely able to hold back a whine at the thought.

“What happened to no sex in the office?” Natasha questioned with that damn eyebrow raised. That alone had Wanda nearly begging for more. She ground against the redhead again, delighted when the woman met her. Nat’s hands slowly crawled to the bottom of her bra, sending a chill down her spine. This was going to be good.

“Don’t care.” Wanda muttered, surging forward to kiss the woman again. She moaned into her mouth, Nat’s lips beginning to move against hers. Her hands returned to her bun, whining as she tugged just slightly.

“Or,” Natasha dragged the word out as she grabbed the hair at the back of the brunette’s head, pulling Wanda with little difficulty off of her neck, “You’re trying to distract me so that I wouldn't notice that you were late this morning?” Wanda’s face blushed a bright red, her swollen lips and dazed look only adding to Nat’s delight. Wanda was easy to fluster. A touch here, a glance there, a sneaky text during class when Wanda wasn’t even supposed to be on her phone. It was probably a kink with how much pride she took in seeing the girl blush. She was too busy to care.

“Oh.” And somehow her blush deepened, her lips pulling up in that small embarrassed smile she did, her teeth tugging her bottom lip into her mouth. While making out had been her tactic to make Nat forget about it, she was beyond hopeful Nat wouldn’t have remembered this morning at all. Clearly though, much like everything else in her life, that didn’t work. “No?”

“Is that an answer or a question?” Nat had long ago let go of her hair, her hands settling back onto the girl's thighs with an eyebrow raised. Wanda pouted, whining slightly as the redhead’s fingers began to dance against the skin. It felt pathetic; whimpering on some woman’s lap because they weren’t actively making out, but she hadn’t exactly made out with someone other than Nat in months. It wasn’t her fault she was high and dry.

“Baby.” Wanda whined, moving her hands up the woman’s shoulders and neck to cup her cheeks, the tips of her fingers digging softly into her hairline. She knew Nat held a lot of tension in her temples, having seen her hold her head during class damn near daily and especially after anything loud. Nat had mentioned something about migraines in passing and Wanda had encouraged she get it checked, but Nat only brushed her off, stating it was her ‘old age’ getting to her. “I didn’t mean to, okay?”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you were late.” Nat’s tone softened, her eyes shifting between the brunette’s as sympathy washed over her features. Wanda looked genuinely sorry, like she had some reason as to why she walked in over twenty minutes late.

“I know. I just-” Wanda sighed, looking past the redhead as her vision became blurry. Her hands returned to the woman’s hair, running the tips of her fingers down the back of her head, something she did with the twins. At lot of her coping mechanisms had stemmed from things she did with them. It was funny, how they were what saved her and continue to do so.

“Hey, why the tears, love?” And like that, she had ruined the mood. She was good at that. She only shook her head, not able to look at the redhead with the way her eyes were filled with sympathy. Nat treated her too well. She didn’t deserve how well Nat treated her.

“I overslept and then my brother, and the twins, and I still left early enough to get here but there wasn’t any parking and I had to park a block away even though I pay how much for a parking pass and-” Wanda cut herself off with a gasp, roughly shoving the palms into her eyes to try and stop her tears. It of course didn’t work, no matter how much she wishes it did. She could hardly look at Nat, too caught up in her flustered morning recap. “And people walk so fucking slow and take up thr entire goddamn hallway and I can’t pass them so of course I walk in and everybody has to look at me like I’m some kind of terrible person and they’re not wrong bu-”

“Wanda, Wanda, calm down, baby.” Natasha was wiping her tears, when had she started crying, gently shaking both of their heads. She pressed their lips together just barely, watching as the brunette’s eyes fluttered shut. The redhead was so gentle. It was a stark contrast to how she was in class; mean and cold turning into gentle and warm. Wanda practically melted into her, her forehead tipping forward until it was touching the older woman’s.

“You need to take a deep breath, Wanda. It’s okay, okay? We all have our days and yes, it’s frustrating and beyond irritating, but we need to not get so worked up over it, yeah? It’s a pain in the ass. Besides, it’s better than missionary.” Nat rubbed her thumbs over the pads of her cheeks, talking slowly and without judgment. Wanda knew this wasn’t the first time the woman had calmed down someone from spiraling, having been in the same situation at least once a week. And yet, the redhead stayed. “But you-” Wanda’s chuckle was watery, the brunette pulling back and shaking her head as she dragged the heel of her hand against her cheeks.

“I was only teasing.” Natasha chuckled back as she reached for a tissue, handing it to the younger. Wanda turned away as she blew her nose, the professor’s hand almost immediately rubbing up and down her back. The brunette dropped the kleenex in the trash under the woman’s desk, a pout on her face. She wiggled in the redhead’s arms until she was under her chin, pushing out a breath of hot air against her chest. “Fuck you.”

“Oh, I intend to.” Nat’s hands crawled up her back, easily unhooking her bra. Wanda gasped quietly, pressing a kiss against the woman’s collarbone before pulling her head back. Nat had that damn eyebrow raised, almost as if she were challenging Wanda. And Wanda was not about to back down. She dropped her hands onto the woman’s shoulders, meeting her halfway with open mouthed kisses. It was all teeth, pure adrenaline coursing through their bodies.

“And I like missionary.” Wanda used her thumbs to turn her professor’s face up, her own smirk pulling at her lips as she forced them apart. It was all she said before her thumbs vanished under the woman’s shirt, pulling the straps of her bra up and letting go at the same time as she nipped at the woman’s chin.

“You little shit.” Natasha pushed them on the chair until the brunette’s back was against the desk, her mouth opening with a slightly pained gasp. The redhead countered the brunette’s action by sliding her hands around to cup her breasts, leaning forward to kiss her again. Their tongues easily slid across each other’s, matching sounds of want echoing between them. It was fast and sloppy, their bodies moving together in sync as they ground against each other, all wanton and needy.

The door rattling against a heavy knocking had them stopping, each woman panting. “What the fuck?” Wanda pulled away from Nat, staring at her with wide and accusatory eyes. She had checked Nat’s schedule prior to showing up unannounced, knowing for a fact the woman had nothing going on for another hour, when Wanda’s final class of the day started. God, she hated how much that made her sound like a stalker. And obsessive. She wasn’t sure which was worse. Either way, no one should’ve been knocking like they had some sort of appointment because as far as she was concerned, they didn’t.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Nat hissed, removing her hands from under the girls shirt. She didn’t move more than that, keeping Wanda on her lap as they both waited in silence. There was a chance it was some student that, like Wanda, had showed up without an appointment, but Nat knew that if they didn’t say anything, the chances of them leaving were higher than not.

“Knock knock!” A clearly feminine voice fluttered through the door with another light knock, a familiar warmth that both women knew. It forced them into action; Wanda stumbling off of Nat’s lap while pulling her shirt down, awkwardly shoving her bra to cup her breasts instead of Nat’s hands, while Nat rubbed the lipstick off of her skin, fixing her own clothes and posture from where she was sat. “One moment!”

Wanda had just enough of a mind to drag her backpack from where it was dropped next to her, pulling her laptop from her bag. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” Wanda muttered while logging in, attempting to brush her hair out. It was a lost mess, her soft waves turning snarly.

“You think I knew someone was going to show up?” Nat muttered back, reaching across her desk to rub at Wanda’s own lipstick. She’s sure it was as smudged as hers, though she was hoping that the low light of the lamps in her office would somehow hide that. Wanda shook her hand away, dragging the wrist of her sweatshirt across her mouth, wiping away any leftover makeup. The door was opening in all but two seconds, a tall brunette woman impatiently pushing through the doorway.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were meeting with someone! I’ll only be a few.” The brunette returned the woman’s smile, though how genuine it was was up for debate. Wanda could vaguely place the woman’s voice. She definitely knew it, from where though, she was unsure.

“What can I do for you, Harkness?” Natasha gave the woman a faux smile, not catching the slight flinch the youngest of the three made at the mention of her name, her attention fully on the older woman. Agatha Harkness was the last person she wanted to see after making out with girlfriend. Fuck that, she didn’t want to see her at all.

“I was just looking to go over the meeting outline, in private.” Wanda was unsure of whether or not Agatha knew it was her. If she did, the weird sappiness in her tone was definitely meant to be some kind of retaliation for withdrawing from her class a month and a half before finals, itf it wasn’t… If it wasn’t, then she didn’t know. Either way, she was not about to deal with her. Not here and not now.

“Of course, let me just finish up with Wanda he-” Nat cleared her throat, gesturing to the younger before clasping her hands. They made eye contact for what felt like the first time in hours, Nat’s nonchalant demeanor a stark contrast to Wanda’s panicked state. The redhead almost looked like she didn’t know what to say, her mouth open once as Wanda shook her head.

“That’s okay, I’m just gonna-” Wanda closed her laptop with a slam, shoving it into her backpack as fast as she could. She needed to be out of that classroom as soon as possible, no questions asked. She had no idea how long until her class started, nor did she care, focused on getting out.

“Are you sure you don’t want to-” Nat cut her off with, what seemed to be, a genuine question, standing just slightly with a hand held out, but Wanda only shook her head as she stood, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. She was cut off by the eldest, though, an overdramatic shocked gasp pulling both of their eyes to her.

“Wanda! It’s so good to see you again!” And that sickeningly sweet tone was back, some twisted grin shining on her face. It made Wanda’s stomach churn. The woman practically rushed up to her, taking her into her arms like a mother who had lost and then found their child. It makes her heart hurt for her own babies. Her face was all but shoved between the woman’s tits, a move she was sure Agatha was doing on purpose. She had always been like that. She waited until Nat spoke to pull away as the eldests arms held her in place, though she didn’t get far as Agatha wrapped an arm around her, her fingers curling into the bottom of her ponytail.

“You two know each other?” Natasha sounded shocked, like she didn’t know of the rumors flying around the department about Wanda. More specifically, about Wanda and Agatha. It was unlikely, though the confused look shining through her nonchalant stance had Wanda questioning her. If anything, she was praying Nat didn’t know what had happened. And from their many, many chats, she didn’t.

“Know?! Honey, Wanda was only my best student last semester before she dropped out for personal reasons.” Wanda felt like some kind of doll; Agatha’s hand petting the nape of her neck and down her back, a fake look of despair thrown on her face. She felt like a trophy, like Agatha was flaunting her for her own sick fantasy. It’s not like that was far off: Agatha had told her she had been her most willing student in years.

“It was a shame, really. Not getting to teach your star pupil anymore. She is looking quite better now, though, wouldn’t you say, superstar?” And now both of the women’s attention was on her, a look filled with expectation mirrored on each other’s faces. They each were expecting something different, though. Nat looked like she wanted to know what had happened, like she needed to protect Wanda from… whatever. No protection now, Wanda thought bitterly. Agatha… Agatha was expecting a reason. A reason for dropping out, for giving up, for acting like nothing had happened between them.

"Totally.” Wanda mumbled, pinching the insides of her wrists. She couldn’t handle this. Not today, at least. Maybe not ever. She needed Agatha to stop touching her hair, for Nat to stop looking at her like she was some kind of victim, for herself to stop believing she could keep running and not be dragged back down. The chances of any of the three happening were close to zero.

“You know, we could always use more students in Art History in the United States. I don’t mean to be a brag, but I hear the unit on the 1600’s tends to be a favorite.” She was lying. Wanda knew. Nat chuckled with the woman, but Wanda knew what joining her class entailed. Knew she’d be cornered with no way out. She wasn’t letting that happen again.

“I’ll think about it, but I gotta g-” So she lied back, taking a step forward to finally get away from the woman’s claws. And they were claws, with how sharp she liked to keep her nails, there was no way she hadn’t accidentally purposefully drawn blood with them. She was looking at Nat for any way out, though the redhead looked like she was enjoying Wanda's struggle, like she and Agatha had planned this.

“Why so soon? We’re only just catching up, toots!” Strike three for that damn sugary sweetness that Wanda knew was fake. She shakes her head, her vision slowly becoming wet. Why was she going to start crying? Couldn’t she have control over something? It didn’t help that her chest felt like it was going to rip apart if she took a breath that was too big.

“You can stay, Wanda. I’m sure Agatha only needs a few things cleared up.” Natasha smiled at her, rounding her desk to place a hand on her shoulder. Wanda all but shrugged away from it. There were too many things touching her. She was wet and sticky and hot. Why was it so hot all of a sudden?

“I-” Wanda stuttered, her mind blanking completely. She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t breathe. If she moved to far forward, she’d run into Nat. Too far back, Agatha. Why couldn’t she just leave? She needed to leave. She couldn’t breathe. She can’t fucking breathe and everyone’s watching her and she’s going to explode and-

“I need to pee.” And with that Wanda pushed past the older woman, all but booking it into the nearest bathroom. What the fuck had just happened? One second she's making out with, quite frankly, one of the hottest people she's ever met and the next she's being shown off like a consolation prize. And on top of it all, she desperately needed a change of panties. Of course, she hadn’t exactly planned to have a hot steamy makeout session on a rolling desk chair, but it happened and now she was left very uncomfortable and very unsatisfied. She was never starting a makeout session in that god forsaken office again.

[shion-yu]

A Safe Place (part 1) [Day 28]

Cliff shows up at Elliot's doorstep in the middle of the night soaked to the bone. A Cliff/Elliot sickfic heavy on the angst, also ft. Theo. For @monthofsick Day 28: Chaotic body temperature. I know, not me joining in on a writing challenge right at the end but it fit so well. 3,065 words, original work, TWs for homophobia, emeto (neither strong warnings, but the sick will get much sicker in p2).

It had been a long summer. Cliff had spent it working at Theo's law firm again, except this time he wasn't an unpaid intern but a legal secretary. It was a temporary job that they had offered him when his summer break had aligned perfectly with one of the secretary's maternity leaves and Cliff had jumped at the chance to work in such a great environment again. He was happy to see many familiar faces from last year, and to his surprise they were happy to see him too. Although he was mainly working with one of the other partners this time - not Theo - he saw the lawyer nearly every day and was relieved to learn both Theo and his partner, Al, were in good health. Al had gotten a double lung transplant that last Fall, Theo told Cliff. He and his new lungs were doing great. 

"What about you?" Theo asked Cliff eagerly. "How did your first year at NYU go?" 

Cliff smiled, automatically thinking of Elliot. "It was great," he said. "My classes were interesting but not too hard."

"You look happier," Theo said, surprising Cliff with how true the observation was. "Did something cause that?" 

"Yeah," Cliff said thoughtfully. "Someone did."

Being apart from Elliot that summer was difficult. He missed hugging and kissing Elliot every single day. He wanted to talk to him on the phone for hours and hours just to hear his voice and fall asleep with his fingers in Elliot’s curls. But when he was living at home, Cliff knew he had to be the perfect, straight laced child he'd been raised as. In other words, he couldn't be himself. He wore business attire to work every day, but the soft sweaters and cute hair clips he'd amassed over the past year stayed packed away in his college stuff for next semester. He didn't think his parents would appreciate those particular fashion choices he'd been making.

It's not like his parents made it hard to hide things. They hardly ever asked questions, and if they did it was about grades or tuition. Cliff knew he was incredibly lucky that his parents paid his entire tuition, room and board as if it were a given. Elliot's parents weren't able to help much financially, meaning his boyfriend had to take out loans and work part time while in school. This summer he was working nonstop in his dad's auto mechanic shop, saving up money. Often when Cliff video called Elliot these days he was covered in sweat, streaks of black motor oil on his face. It seemed wrong to complain about his parents when it was thanks to them that he was only working this summer because he wanted to, not because he had to. And yet, silently, Cliff  thought maybe he'd be happier if he was in Elliot's shoes - without much money but with a place he could really call home. It was a selfish, privileged thought and Cliff refused to voice it, but it creeped in each time he heard Elliot's mom call in the background, "Boys, wash up, it's time for dinner!" 

Working was a blessing to Cliff, because if he'd been at home he would've been in that big, lonely house all by himself most of the summer. Being at the law firm was not only a distraction, but comfortable. Despite wearing a suit, Cliff actually felt less tense there than at his parents' house. He stayed long hours, longer than he needed to, because he preferred the sound of printers and fax machines over his parents screaming at each other downstairs. When he was in high school it seemed easier to ignore. Maybe it was because he'd had a break for so many months that returning to it seemed worse than before. Or maybe it was because Elliot never screamed at him like that, and Cliff had started to realize that this wasn't how things had to be.

Around the beginning of August, Cliff caught a cold that didn't seem to go away. At first it was just the sniffles, and then it was a cough that grew progressively deeper with each week that passed. The other employees started asking him if he was alright, and embarrassingly Theo caught him staring blankly at the water fountain one day for far too long. Cliff was so out of it that he didn't even notice Theo calling his name until the older man waved his hand in Cliff's face.

"Oh," Cliff said, rubbing his eyes to try and make his blurry vision clear up. "Sorry, I was just... Daydreaming." 

"You look pale," Theo said, and before Cliff could step back Theo had placed a hand on Cliff's forehead while ignoring Cliff's protest that he was fine. "Hmm, you feel a little feverish. Why don't you go home, kid?" 

"I'm really fine," Cliff said, wildly embarrassed. "It's just a cold."

Theo looked him up and down, clearly assessing how pushy he should be. "At least go take a nap on the couch in my office, you look exhausted."

Usually, Cliff would say no immediately. He wouldn't even consider showing weakness at the place he was supposed to be making a vitally good impression at for his career. But he felt weak and a little dizzy and found himself saying in a small voice, "...If you're sure." 

Theo was sure. He brought Cliff to his office and shut the blinds so there wasn't much light coming through the many glass windows. He even tossed a blanket to the eighteen-year-old. "I sleep here all the time," he reassured Cliff. "You can't work if you're too tired to think. Don't worry about it." 

Cliff felt guilty for taking over Theo's office, but Theo headed out for a two hour meeting and Cliff was left alone on the couch. He had half a mind to leave and get back to work at his desk now that there was no one stopping him, but just sitting there made him realize how fatigued his whole body felt. A little nap wouldn't hurt, he reasoned. A really short one. He lay down and fell asleep so quickly that he didn't even remember closing his eyes. 

He woke up to Theo gently rubbing his shoulder. Cliff was confused, then his eyes widened in embarrassment and he sat up. Shit, had it been two hours already? Wait, that clock didn't say 5pm did it? - surely he hadn't slept for four hours?! 

"Woah, it's okay Cliff," Theo said quickly, "You seemed really tired so I let you sleep. You should go home now, everybody's leaving for the day." 

"I'm so sorry," Cliff gushed, face bright red. "I didn't mean to sleep so long. You don't have to pay me for today - please don't, actually." 

"Settle down, it's really fine," Theo said in a calm voice that made Cliff remember to take a deep breath like Elliot had taught him to calm down. "We all have off days. You don't feel so warm now, so that's good. Stay home tomorrow though." 

"That's totally not necessary," Cliff said, his confident tone supplemented by a very unconvincing round of dry coughs. He waved off the tissues Elliot tried to hand him. "Really, I'm fine. I've just been having some asthma since I got sick last winter, but my boy-" Cliff stopped himself, realizing he was about to out himself. "My, um, my roommate got me an inhaler so I just have to use it that's all." 

"Your boyfriend," Elliot supplied gently. "It's okay to say it, Cliff. You know I have Al." 

Cliff wanted to deny the comment outright. He wanted to laugh and say Elliot really was just a friend. But Theo had such an earnest expression, and he was the only successful adult man Cliff knew of who was gay. "I know, but, it's really not, not for me," Cliff found himself saying, voice wavering. "I-I have to go. Sorry I slept in your office so long," he said as he hurried out, ignoring Theo's all too kind voice calling after him. Cliff knew in a certain world that it was okay, but it wasn't his world. Not the world where he still relied on his parents. 

Despite saying he'd be back the next day, Cliff did stay home that Friday. His fever was worse and he had chills that left him huddled under the covers. His mom didn't notice he didn't leave the house and he didn't tell her. She didn't need to know, just like she didn't need to know about Elliot. She had never supported Cliff in anything at all, so why... Why did Cliff feel such a strong urge to tell her? 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

On the last day of Cliff's work at the law firm, Theo told Cliff if he ever needed a reference, he'd get a glowing one from him. And if he ever needed to talk about anything, anything at all, Cliff could call him too. Cliff knew what he was getting at, and he didn't want to face it. But Theo was such a calm person that it was disarming, and Cliff asked without meaning to, "Is it worth it?" 

Theo nodded. He knew what Cliff meant without specification. "Yes, it's worth it," Theo said. "Even if there's nay-sayers and you lose people, you gain much more. It's always worth it to be exactly who you are, Cliff."

Cliff went back to his parents house with those words echoing in his brain. Theo, a successful and respected lawyer, said it was worth it. He had a career and a person who loved him by his side. Was that something Cliff could have, too? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be honest, just once?

"Mom," Cliff said over dinner, pushing his phone over to her with a picture of him and Elliot together on the screen. "I want to tell you something. This is my-"

"Don't do this to me Cliff," his mother interrupted before he could finish. "You've already caused enough trouble. He's not - just because you have a thing with another guy doesn't mean anything."

"It's not a thing mom. I love him," Cliff found himself saying angrily. And oh, why did he say that? The first time he finally said he loved Elliot and it was directed at his mom in spite. It wasn't supposed to be like this. 

"Cliff, you don't love him. You're too old to be playing this game. Now I'll forget we had this conversation. And don't tell your father."

Cliff saw red. He'd never been so angry in his life. He snatched his phone back and grabbed his wallet on the shelf by the door and went outside. She didn't follow him. 

It was pouring rain. Cliff shivered, wishing he'd had the forethought to grab a coat too, but he wasn't going to ruin his dramatic exit by going back inside. Of course his mother hadn't approved. Cliff hadn't expected her to. But he'd expected her to get angry - not to dismiss him all together like he was just a kid with a big imagination. Cliff knew then that she would never really think of him as his own person, and he couldn't do anything to change that. It broke his heart. 

Cliff walked for a very long time. He didn't quite know where he was going, only that he wanted to get as far away from that house as possible. He found himself at a park by the water where he beat up a couple of tree trunks that definitely won based on his bleeding knuckles afterwards. The rain didn't let up, and Cliff found himself getting progressively colder. His cough from earlier that month had never gone away and his breath began to catch on what felt like a dry patch in his throat. Cliff realized then that he'd left his inhaler at the house, too. The coughing grew more desperate until he pitched forward and vomited onto the grass he was standing on. He groaned and leaned against the nearest tree he could find, the contents of his stomach mixing with rushing rain water and swept away quickly. He continued to gag for several minutes until the coughing abated ever so slightly. He felt weak and pathetic. And also very, very alone.

He needed to get somewhere dry. Somewhere warm and safe. Cliff only had one place like that in mind. He boarded train after train, shivering in the corner like a wet dog as he made his way all the way to Long Island. He knew Elliot's address because he'd been sending Elliot mail all summer, little love notes and presents that made Cliff think of him. He never included a return address though, because he hadn't wanted his parents to see. Thankfully his phone had enough battery to direct him to Elliot's doorstep despite the wet four hour commute, and he found himself at the front door of a modest suburban home at 3:30 in the morning. 

The journey had felt like a daze. Cliff had never done something so erratic, so unplanned. He raised his hand to knock before remembering what time it was, and Elliot had parents and sister who probably wouldn't appreciate him knocking. He called Elliot instead, his phone barely hanging on at 5%. He thought to himself that it seemed unlikely that Elliot would answer at this time of night. But after several rings, by which time Cliff had resigned himself to waiting for dawn under a tree, a very sleepy voice picked up. 

"Cliff?"

"Elliot? Sorry to bother you," Cliff said, as if this entire situation weren't incredibly bizarre. "But I'm at your door."

There was a long pause, presumably while Elliot tried to figure out exactly what Cliff meant by 'at your door'. "Like right now? Now?" 

"Yeah," Cliff said. "Do you think I could sleep over?" 

"I'm coming down," Elliot said, and there was the rustling of sheets and then the thump of footsteps as Elliot ran downstairs. The front door opened and Elliot hung up. Cliff looked at him and thought he was the most beautiful person in the entire world. "Holy crap, you're really here," Elliot breathed. "God Cliff, what happened? No, come in first, you're soaked..."

Elliot pulled Cliff inside and helped Cliff take off his soaked trainers. There were traces of vomit on the front of his shirt and his fingers were still bloody. Elliot brought him to the bathroom, motioning for Cliff to stay quiet with one finger to his lips. He grabbed a towel from under the sink and wrapped it around the shorter boy, who was shivering violently from the marked change in temperature. In the bright light of the kitchen, suddenly his journey seemed a lot less valiant and a lot more stupid. "Sit," Elliot said, sitting Cliff on the toilet. "You're freezing... Can you take your temperature?”

Elliot handed Cliff a thermometer, which Cliff obediently used. After a few seconds it beeped and read ‘96.9.’ Elliot frowned. “Hot shower, okay?" Despite being woken up in the middle of the night, Elliot seemed fully alert. Cliff nodded and peeled off his wet and dirty clothes. He coughed roughly as he did so, a slight wheeze audible on the end of the exhale. Elliot patted his back with a concerned expression. "Do you have your inhaler?" Cliff shook his head no. Elliot grimaced and ran the hot water for Cliff. "You warm up. I'm gonna find you some clothes and I think there's an old inhaler somewhere in the medicine cabinet..."

Elliot moved to leave, but Cliff grabbed his arm before he could go. "Don't wake your family up," Cliff said hoarsely. "I'm okay." 

Elliot looked at Cliff in concern and sighed. "Cliff, you just showed up soaking wet in the middle of the night. You live all the way in Newark. I'm gonna be a little concerned. But right now you need to warm up. We can talk later."

"Okay," Cliff said. He took the hottest shower of his life then, and it felt glorious. After a few minutes he started to feel dizzy though and sat on the floor of the tub. Elliot came back and peeked around the curtain, frowning when he saw Cliff sitting there. 

"Are you awake?" Elliot asked worriedly. 

"Hmm," Cliff hummed in confirmation. "Just feels nice, and I got sleepy." 

"Finish up in there," Elliot said. "I've got sweats and a hot water bottle and bed waiting for you." 

Cliff obediently finished showering and sat on the edge of the tub as Elliot dried him off thoroughly with two big, fluffy towels. Cliff closed his eyes and remembered how many times he'd imagined being together again over the summer. "I missed you so much," Cliff said, resting his face on Elliot's abdomen. 

Elliot stilled and crouched in front of Cliff. "I missed you too," he said softly. "Now arms up." Elliot helped Cliff get into the warmest sweats that he owned and then led Cliff upstairs to his bedroom. The house was quiet, and Cliff hoped that meant he hadn't disturbed anyone else's sleep. He glanced around curiously at Elliot's childhood bedroom, which was decorated in a way that seemed so very Elliot. He smiled at the teddy bear sitting on the dresser that Cliff had bought Elliot at the baseball game they'd been to. It brought back good memories, nothing like the ones that had been swirling around in Cliff's head for the past several rainy hours. 

"Bed," Elliot whispered, tucking Cliff under the duvet and several extra blankets. Cliff was still shivering, but less so now. His temperature had blown from low numbers to high and he gazed at Elliot with glassy, feverish eyes. Elliot handed Cliff a very expired albuterol inhaler, which Cliff took a few puffs of. Despite the date stamped on the canister, it still eased the tightness in Cliff's chest a little. Elliot then climbed in next to him and wrapped his arms around Cliff. The feeling and smell of being enveloped by Elliot after all this time brought Cliff to tears and he hid his face. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know I should have called.”

"It’s okay,” Elliot said. “Sleep, Cliff. We can talk tomorrow.” Knowing he was finally in the only place he truly felt safe, Cliff slept.

[Cont. part 2]

[raina-at]

Clues

“And where are you off to?” John asks, looking up from his textbook. He’s sitting in the kitchen, studying for his anatomy exam and eating chips.

Sherlock passes by the table and takes a chip from the paper plate John is holding out in an unspoken invitation. “Molly needs help with organic chemistry.”

John smiles at him fondly. “That’s awfully nice of you, sacrificing your Friday night to help her.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes. “She’s going to be Anderson’s TA next semester, meaning she’ll have access to the lab after hours. It’s a simple exchange.”

“Yes, yes, you keep telling yourself that, much easier to pretend you couldn’t just break into the lab like you’ve done all of last year, instead of admitting that Molly’s your friend and that’s why you’re helping her.”

Sherlock helps himself to another chip. “Shut up,” he says, then pops the chip into his mouth, making John laugh. 

The sound shivers down Sherlock’s spine like a warm caress, making him feel warm all over. He’s long since stopped asking himself why making John laugh is the best feeling in the world, he’s just accepted that it is. 

“Fine, go share your big genius brain with the girl who isn’t your friend at all, of course,” John answers. He gets up and nudges Sherlock with his shoulder as he passes to the sofa. “Text me if you’re going to spend the night, okay?”

“Yes, mother,” Sherlock says with mock annoyance. 

John flips Sherlock off absently, already engrossed in his textbook again. “Finish off the chips, will you,” he says absently.

Sherlock shrugs into his coat and grabs the chips from the table to have on his way. “Don’t wait up,” he says in lieu of goodbye and closes the door behind him.

*-*

“So, if you look at the molecular structure of- Molly, are you listening to a word I’m saying?”

Molly looks up from her textbook and blushes scarlet. “I’m so sorry, Sherlock, I’m just-”

“Just what? Ungrateful? Inattentive? Wasting my time?” Sherlock ticks the points off his fingers. “Uninterested in passing this course? Willing to throw your future away?”

Molly drops her head, her forehead meeting her textbook with a painful-sounding thud. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing…”

Sherlock sighs. “Let me guess. This is about a boy.”

“Yes,” Molly all but wails. “I’m being so stupid! But I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s so handsome” She lifts her head a bit, looking at Sherlock with a pleading expression. “You know Greg? From the rugby team?”

Sherlock nods, his anger abating somewhat. Greg apparently has a debilitating effect on girls. He’s noticed it on several occasions where John dragged him to social gatherings. The effect is entirely lost on Sherlock himself, though he acknowledges that Greg is good looking. Maybe it’s because Greg is so unquestioningly straight, but then again, so is John, and John’s mere presence both enhances Sherlock’s intellect and has the ability to derail it completely. So he sympathises with Molly. To an extent.

“What would it take for you to be able to actually concentrate on what we’re doing?” he asks, checking his watch. It’s only nine, maybe they can save some of this study session.

“If I knew for sure that he’s not interested, I could put it out of my mind. I know he likes me, but I’m not sure if we’re just mates, or if he wants to take it further.” She pulls out what looks like a battered women’s magazine. “There’s a list of clues here. Whether someone likes you. Maybe we could….” she trails off, giving Sherlock a hopeful smile.

Sherlock sighs. “Let’s have it then.”

“Okay, clue one: He’s looking for excuses to touch you.”

“Sounds a bit fishy,” Sherlock says, waggling his hand in a ‘not sure about that’ gesture, thinking of how John constantly bumps against him, puts a hand on his shoulder, or his arm. “Friends touch quite often as well.”

“He did touch my arm this afternoon,” Molly says, musing aloud. “I’m going to mark it down as a yes.”

Sherlock decides he needs a control group. He’ll compare the clues on the list to things normal friends — like he and John — do all the time.

“Go on.”

“Clue two: Shares food. Greg gave me half of his muffin last week.”

John sharing his chips without even a second thought. “Meaningless. Next.”

“Compliments you. Greg told me I’m really smart the other day, does that count?”

John calls him brilliant and amazing all the time. “No. Friends like each other, that’s not an indicator for romantic attraction.”

“One or two of these are normal among friends, it says here. If you get seven or eight out of ten, he’s interested in more,” Molly muses, but continues reading the clues out when Sherlock makes a ‘get on with it’ gesture. “Four: Shows concern for your wellbeing.”

Text me when you stay over. Finish my chips. Do you want some tea? “Friends do that. Next.”

“Five: Goes fishing for information about your romantic life. Greg did ask me if I have plans for the weekend, do you think he might- Sherlock, are you listening to me?”

Do you have a girlfriend? 

Not really my area.

Do you have a boyfriend, then?

Their first conversation over dinner the evening John moved in, after Mike introduced them as potential flatmates. 

“Read the next clue.”

Molly looks down at the paper. “Shows interest in your hobbies.”

John leaning over him and looking at crime scene pictures, John listening to him go on about the chemistry of tobacco ash and the infinite varieties of London soil, John’s enthusiasm for his violin…

Sherlock swallows. “Next.”

“Initiates contact, makes plans.”

He takes out his phone and looks at his last ten text alerts. They’re all from John.

“Next.”

“Wants to meet your family.”

Well, nobody wants to meet Mycroft, but John usually offers him tea when he comes over, and John’s shown a certain amount of — morbid — curiosity about their parents. 

“Next.”

“Blows off people and plans to spend time with you.”

“And the last one?” Sherlock asks, unsure if what he feels is hope or dread. 

“Lots of eye contact.”

“Molly,” Sherlock croaks, unsteadily. “I have to go.”

*-*

The way home takes thirty minutes and that’s time enough for Sherlock to do some serious thinking on the subject of John Watson, and what Sherlock wants from him.

Facts: John is intelligent, smart, funny, good company, he smells good, his eyes are extraordinary, he’s the only person Sherlock could envision living with and his laugh makes Sherlock shiver.

He comes to the following conclusions:  a) He’s in love with John, and has been since they met. b) He’s a massive idiot. 

*-*

Sherlock bursts into John’s bedroom without knocking. “Do you like me?”

John, who was fast asleep face down on his textbook, sits up, blinking against the light. “What?”

“You know how much I hate repeating myself,” Sherlock says, running a hand through his hair, gesturing in agitation. “Do you like me?” he asks, gesturing between the two of them.

John blinks, obviously still half asleep. “Um…”

“Answer the question!” Sherlock snaps, irritated.

“I’m not even sure I know what the question is,” John says, frowning at Sherlock, confused. “You storm in here in the middle of the night and yell incoherent nonsense at me, and you’re irritated at me?”

“We got ten out of ten, John! Ten out of ten!” Sherlock yells, dimly aware that this doesn’t exactly help John with anything, but too agitated to care. “You touch me all the time, you care about me, you let me rant at you, you feed me, you’re polite to my brother, you haven’t been on a date for months,” Sherlock enumerates the points, checking them off with his fingers. “I forget the rest, but you see the point, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure I do,” John says, rubbing a tired hand over his forehead. “You asked if I like you. Of course I do, we’re friends.”

“Yes, obviously, but do you like me? Like me, like me? Have sexual and/or romantic interest in me? The clues say you do, and the clues never lie!”

John looks distinctly uncomfortable, and he’s even blushing a bit, which Sherlock rates as a very good sign. “Um…” he rubs the back of his neck, a classic nervous tell, then he looks up at Sherlock, and there’s that eye contact the article was talking about. “Would that be a problem?”

Sherlock releases a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. “Of course not, you absolute idiot. Why do you think I endure your dreadfully slow typing, your inability to pick up your dirty socks from the bathroom floor and your horrid taste in music? I’m obviously completely besotted with you and have been for a while now. Granted, I only realised right now but-”

He doesn’t get any further because John pulls him down to the bed, rolls on top of him and starts kissing him like there’s nothing better to do in the whole entire world, a sentiment Sherlock is in complete agreement with.

“I think we’re done talking for now,” John says with a wicked grin as he pulls back a bit to look at Sherlock.

Sherlock quite agrees and pulls John down for another round of snogging.

He makes a mental note to thank Molly in the morning. Then he dismisses everything that’s not John from his mind. It’s surprisingly easy. 

Have a bit of fluffy Unilock with awkward boys today. This got long, that's why I cut it.

Thanks for the prompt and the tag, @calaisreno

Tagging a few people to join the fun: @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @jrow @fluffbyday-smutbynight @topsyturvy-turtely @totallysilvergirl @khorazir @catlock-holmes @meetinginsamarra @lisbeth-kk

[writer-by-the-sea]

College Professor Elliott x Gn! Student

Part 1 of ? I stopped, my words trailing off as I gazed into a pair of eyes in the front row. Two beautiful eyes, breathtakingly perfect eyes that stared right back at me, unafraid to maintain eye contact with me, unafraid of the successful author standing directly in front of them… Ready to challenge anything I might throw their way.

Chapter one: The meet cute

-------------------------

A sea of eyes watch me as I pace back and forth before them, the sound of laptops opening, bags zipping, pens on paper, and the occasional snore from one of my already uninterested students; the true college experience. When I was younger I never saw myself teaching a class. My main goal was to become an author. A New York Times best seller, famous and rich beyond my wildest dreams! 

It was much easier to obtain than I’d ever imagined. 

Thirteen novels later and I was here, teaching a class full of young and eager faces; each one just as desperate to accomplish the same goals that I’d managed to do early on in my career. They always took every word I spoke as the one and only truth, the end all of how to become a published author and a well known one at that. 

After all, the class was called ‘Humble Beginnings - How to publish your first novel.’ Humble being that it was my last name, a little joke to myself when I came up with the class title. It was very much the opposite of ‘humble’ especially when I stood before all of them, dressed in clothing that most of them could never afford, my hair perfectly styled with products shipped from all around the world, the watch on my wrist costing more than my first car— Humble Beginnings… when in reality, it was all pure luck and a dash of talent. 

I begin by scribbling my name on the white board in the font of the class, something I don’t find myself using often and will usually only keep my name up the entire semester. Professor Elliott Humble. I hate being called ‘Mr. Humble’ but Elliott feels too familiar in this setting. 

I turned and looked out to the class, taking time to memorize the faces as I scanned over them. Some excited and eager to begin, others nervous and scared of what’s to come, and one in the back with his head thrown back as another light snore rips around the room. “Theme stated, can anyone tell me what that means?”

A few hands raise, those who have already done their research, those who may have read ahead on the required book in my class— not one that I’ve written myself, but one that would be very beneficial to any future writer. Save the Cat! Writes a novel.

I point to someone a few rows back. She wore a brown oversized sweater and a mustard yellow beanie. My quick thought is that she’s a bit of a hipster, someone who dreams of writing the next most inspirational and unique novel. A dream that will fail once they come to learn the truth of publishing. “Yes, you. Let’s hear it.” 

“Theme stated— A hint at the transformation that the main character will make.” 

“Wonderful!” I grinned, earning a blush from my praise. And nothing new there, it was common to attract a few shy glances and not so subtle swoons from my audience. Be it from my interviews, book signing, or here in class, someone was bound to develop a little crush. Usually the entire class by the end of the semester. So much for being Humble.

“Can anyone give me a good example of a theme stated?”

More hands go up this time, either they now knew what it meant or they were too nervous to try to answer the first question of the class. 

I hummed as I looked out at the class, one man vibrating in his seat with excitement. I could already hear his answer, something from a Marvel movie or maybe Star Wars. He wore glasses that were too small for his face, a worn out Iron Man t-shirt, and a chain necklace that showed off a single heavy lock that hung just above his collarbone. “What’s your example?” 

“You either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain.” 

“Ah, that’s a very good one!” The student was beaming, proud of himself and rightfully so— it was a very good example. “The Dark Knight, correct?” DC and not Marvel, but close enough. 

“Yes, Mr. Humble!” 

I cringed a bit at hearing my name, luckily it seemed that no one noticed. “In The Dark Knight, we see Harvey Dent and Batman, both considered heroes. Dent in his attempt to rid Gotham of crime, and Batman as a vigilante protecting the city.” Can’t say I was prepared to reveal my own slightly nerdy side of myself so early on. But it couldn’t be helped. “Later on, Dent becomes a villain while Batman allows himself to be considered a villain for the greater good of Gotham.

“Some of you may be tempted to shake your head or roll your eyes. You may be asking yourself, ‘why would I ever want to be so on the nose with the theme of my story?’ And it’s rather simple, a strong theme, a strong statement in the beginning of your novel or script, in Batman's case; can take your work from being your average basic story, and into something so much more powerful. Something that moves your audience, something that captures their attention and holds onto them for dear life…”

I stopped, my words trailing off as I gazed into a pair of eyes in the front row. Two beautiful eyes, breathtakingly perfect eyes that stared right back at me, unafraid to maintain eye contact with me, unafraid of the successful author standing directly in front of them… Ready to challenge anything I might throw their way.

“Uh, I-,” I turned my back to the class, quickly pulling my collar away from my throat, my tie suddenly too tight. Clearing my throat, I spoke again, “What else do some of you think is the most important factor in a novel?”

I meant to keep going on, to ask for more examples, to spin more on how important the theme stated was but— I turned and looked back to the class, forcing a smile to them and looking at the newly raised hands to pick another answer. But then my eyes fell back to them. No hand raised, but still paying full attention as they waited for the chance to learn more. I knew I was blushing now, my cheeks no doubt turning bright red as I ripped my gaze away from them again. I pointed to a random student, not paying attention to anything about them as they answered. 

“A novel outline?” They were unsure, their voice going up at the end of their answer. But it was an alright answer, a more obvious one, but still a decent enough answer. 

“Yes, good point! Outlines are important. Not everyone uses them and it’s something we’ll dive into throughout the class— I’ve done both methods, outlining and not, and.. I’ll tell you which novels sold better,” I teased. 

The class laughed, some of them nodding along with me, most likely the ones that struggled with outlining and wanted to know how to avoid it. 

“Now, I’d like to take a little bit of time to get to know some of you. I’m going to end class a little early—“ Some students dropped their jaws, looking around the room at each other in confusion. “Don’t mistake this for kindness,” I said quickly. “You’ll be receiving your first assignment and it will take some time.” 

I chuckled at some of them as they groaned and relaxed back into their seats. “Homework after the first class? I know, I’m so cruel. But—“ I jogged to my desk, grabbing the first book that sat on top, one of my own. I smacked the cover and showed it to the class, not my first novel but it was one of the best selling ones. “If you want to become published, you have to write every single day!” I tossed the book to someone in the third row, some gasps escaping as they caught it. 

“Tell me your name and your future novel genre!” 

The student looked to their left and then to their right, uncertain and apprehensive to answer. 

“Look at me,” I said softly. “Don’t worry about the others, tell me what you want to write.” 

They shrugged, their fingers playing with the edges of my book as they stared at the cover. “It’s kind of lame.” 

“I promise you, it isn’t,” I said. “No genre is boring, except maybe a manual on how to change a lightbulb.” A few laughs came through, and the student smiled. The laughs were what we needed to get them to open up a bit. “So?” 

“Historic fantasy.” 

“Ah, yes. A battle of blades between elves and humankind! How can they ever settle the war between their people?! A marriage alliance? A fight to the death? Or perhaps an even stronger enemy arises that forces them to work together!” 

The student laughed, “Goblins and- and trolls!” 

“I’m excited to see what you come up with! What’s your name?” 

“Tony,” he was grinning now, facing me fully and no longer hiding his face behind my book. 

“Excellent, Tony. Very nice to meet you. Toss the book to someone else!” 

Tony nodded and stood, looking out to everyone around him and trying to decide who to throw to. He tossed it carefully a few seats away from himself, landing on the table of another student. She grabbed it quickly and stood up, holding my book to her chest. 

“I’m Angie, and I want to write romance.” 

“A personal favorite of mine,” I replied. Most of my novels were, in fact, romance. Something I felt I excelled in, and most likely the reason she was really here. To get into the head of her favorite author. “Meeting for the first time and falling in love, reawakening the romance of a dying marriage, or a forbidden romance between two criminals — so many possibilities!” 

“Rose Petal is my favorite book of yours!” 

“Thank you,” I said with a laugh. “Please, toss it on!” 

Angie didn’t even hesitate, she quickly threw the book into the front row, nearly nailing the student in the back of the head but luckily they were able to turn and catch it. They stood slowly, their eyes locking with my own as they held the book with both hands. I made my way to stand in front of them, reaching for the book and taking it from them, my fingers caressing across the back of their hands as I took ownership of the book once again. 

“And you? Are you wishing to write romance as well?” 

“No,” they replied, their voice so soft the students in the back missed it. 

I waited a moment, my attention focused fully on them… I found that I could stare at them for hours, days, weeks even. I allowed myself to study their face and memorize every gorgeous detail. “What is it?”

They smiled before they replied, a smile so wonderful that I almost missed their reply— 

“Horror.”

[lilacskyly]

Internet Boy ☆ (Satoru Gojo x Reader College AU) Part 1/???

Starting my 2nd semester tomorrow so here's this to celebrate

College, ah college. You really didn't have much else to say for it. You didn't really hate it or love it per say, you were just there. Enter you, the person not many people talked to, the one who always participated in class yet still didn't know what the hell they were doing, and how could I forget, the one who's also taking 17 credits this semester for God knows what reason.

6 classes? Yeah, pffft, no big deal (it's not like you almost failed your 5 classes the first semester). Your first day of your second semester was steadily approaching, and surprisingly, you felt ready for it.

You hopped on your phone to text your group chat made up of online friends. 

You rolled your eyes as you put your phone down. Might as well get ready for tomorrow.

You entered your first class and greeted your professor. Just as class was about to start, enter Satoru Gojo, college’s biggest prick. You had some classes with him last semester, and for some reason, he always seemed to want to annoy you and you alone. All the girls would swoon over him and then stare daggers at you as he always chose to sit next to you. And wouldn't you know, he's doing it again. He slid into the chair next to you before smirking. “Heh, wassup Y/N.” he greeted you with a wink.

You groaned. “Shut it, Satoru.”

“Aw…. You still mad at me?” he pouted.

“You were almost late to class… again.” you said, trying to change the subject.

“So? It's the first day. Not like they expect much.” he laughed, leaning back in his chair.

“Way to set the expectations even lower…” you sighed.

Gojo stuck his tongue out at you making you roll your eyes. You ignored him the rest of the class. It was pretty simple, just read over your syllabus and introduce yourself to people in the class. Of course in your circumstance, you had to be paired with Gojo.

He (as always) wasn't paying attention and was on his phone. “Ahem”

He glanced up at you before putting his phone away hurriedly. “Wazzup?”

“We're doing introductions… Since we're like the only two sitting here, I'm stuck with you.”

He smirked before sighing, “Fine by me. It's easier than actually having to introduce myself to someone. Oh, what major are you again?”

“For the fifth time, it's psychology.”

“Right… right. Why did ya pick something that boring?”

“To see what the hell is wrong with people like you.” you spat at him.

His hand shot up to his chest, faking pain. “Ouch Y/N… low blow.”

“Bet you haven't even decided your major.”

“Oh, I have… kinda.” he muttered. You cocked an eyebrow causing him to stutter even more. “I-I mean… it's probably not permanent but for now I'm doing theater—”

“Perfect, maybe your dramatic ass can finally annoy someone who's not me.”

“Daw, but I thought we were friends—!” he started.

“As if. Now, I'll be leaving. Suggest you're not late for your next class.”

On the way to your next class, you checked your phone.

You chuckled lightly to yourself. Gods he's hopeless… wasn't he like this with a girl last semester too? He really should change his name… maybe that's what's putting them off.

[max1461]

One of the major problems with the present world—and I think this might be pretty fundamental to liberal market economies, although it's by no means unique to liberal market economies—is that as an adult it's really hard to make friends. Obviously some of this is that adults may just be less ready friend-makers than kids are, but I think a significant aspect of it is that kids are in school and adults are in the job market, and school is a better place to make friends than the job market is for structural reasons.

First of all because school is usually bigger than most workplaces, by probably an order of magnitude. People have a variety of different interests and differingly-compatible personality traits, and so it stands to reason that in a larger environment it will be easier to find people you like who like you back. This is certainly what I have found to be the case, even in the transition between college (big; structurally school-like), and my grad program (small; structurally job-like). I imagine that workplace size is something for which the optimum varies case-by-case, but empirically it seems to me that the market has settled into something of a bimodal distribution: low-skill high-intensity jobs, like factory work and Amazon distribution centers and so on, tend to have very large workplaces, whereas most other jobs tend to have relatively small workplaces (at least compared to the size of a school). But in those high-intensity workplaces with enough employees that school-like friend-making should in theory be possible, the barriers to pleasant socialization are enormous. The upshot is that your job is just not going to provide you with opportunities to interact with many different people on a daily basis, so if you don't like the few people you do happen to meet, you're screwed.

Obviously socializing outside your job is hard because you have to be at your job all day. But also (and this is something which has a whole nother, partially disjoint set of causes)... where you would even go? Where else are you even gonna make friends? Etc. Maybe not everyone has this problem but I do.

And then there's the aspect of school where each year, semester, quarter, etc., you take new classes with a whole new set of people in them. This is like, almost perfectly optimized for allowing people to make friends, I think. Spending a couple of months with a new group of people who you see several times a week is just long enough for the average socializer to make some connections, really figure out if they like any of these people, and secure those relationships going forward if they do. But it's brief enough that if there's no one compatible, you get a new group to pick from in a reasonable time frame. Honestly, I think this is one of the single best social technologies humans have ever come up with, and it was like, a total accident! We didn't set out to make school into a perfect friend-making engine for young people (or at least, perfect in in this capacity; it's got other downsides, obviously), it just turned out that way! But like, damn, we sure did engineer a perfect friend-making engine. Pretty cool. Anyway after you leave school you don't have that anymore. We should find a way to replicate or at least approximate it in adulthood, IMO.

Last but not least, a market society encourages people to move around constantly in search of better work; this seems like something that is kind of inevitable if you're trying to satisfy the conditions of an idealized market IRL. But moving constantly is a barrier to maintaining long term relationships. I know that in my own life, physical distance has been the single greatest force working against me in my friendships, and that physical distance has existed unilaterally as a product of market forces. Bad!

So there you go.

[pocketramblr]

Headcanons for OFA stockpiles beauty, tddk version, please.

1- ok so dorms happen earlier in the first semester, after the revelation that Shigaraki carries a picture around of Izuku and the winged nomu targeted him to carry off. But in the meantime while they're being built, UA is like 'maybe we should get this kid a protective detail or someone at least watching him off campus'. Tenya and Shoto are both in the hospital room while that's discussed, and both immediately offer their connections- but with the Iida family focusing on their sons right now, it makes more sense to see if they can take the Todorokis up on it instead. Which means that now, Izuku is alternating between staying with All Might (doesn't want to impose or run more of his time down) or the Todorokis (also doesn't want to impose, but its nice to get to know his friend more!)

2- Enji isn't thrilled about the protective detail, but he figures pretty quickly this kid's got some connection to All Might and would like to figure out what- and uh yeah Shoto's crush on him is as obvious as it is understandable, so he wants to keep an eye on that to make sure he isn't distracted now that he's finally using his fire.

He is very specific about Izuku getting a guest room in a different wing of the house from Shoto.

It doesn't matter much, since they spend a lot of time out with friends after school or together in the living room or dojo anyway.

3- Fuyumi decides to try and help her brother out, asking Izuku a couple questions while he's helping her cook and Shoto's gone to visit Rei one Sunday. She says she's sure he's the heartbreaker of his class, any datemate?

Izuku laughs uncomfortably, says no, but gets why she asked- its a side effect of his quirk, he isn't really as attractive as it seems, no one is actually likes him, just the quirk tricking them too.

Fuyumi gets very quiet and very serious, and says she's sorry. Sometimes, quirks don't seem worth the trouble, and he's in hard spot- but she's sure at some point, someone will see the real him, and like the real him, besides from the glamour. Izuku thanks her, and after dinner Fuyumi pulls Shoto aside to bring up the quirk and if he thinks he's under the effect of it, or if he has a real crush on him.

Shoto stares at her, and says he doesn't have a crush on Izuku, he's just objectively attractive and a brilliant friend.

Fuyumi realizes he's as oblivious as Izuku, and both beyond her help.

4- Shoto realizes that night that Fuyumi was right, but as a youngest sibling is physically incapable of admitting that so soon, and decides to simply act as if it was a slowburn unrelated to anything she said, and that itll probably be easy, since Izuku is so clearly over any attempts to woo him. He doesn't want to be pushy. He doesn't want Izuku to feel like Rei. So instead, he just acts friendly. Gets him All Might merch for his birthday, keeps a poker face when Izuku joins them in the hot spring at camp even if he cant quite control the temperature reaction, and keeps a lookout/causes distractions to make having quiet meetings with All Might easier for him.

5- Ok i dont know how but imagine whatever convoluted scenario needs to happen for Izuku to get shot with a temporary eraser bullet. this is mostly because he deserves to go feral and smart and fight quirkless again, but also because everyone realizes he does look/seem different this way, until the glamour comes back- everyone except Shoto, who didn't notice a difference and says it, which startles some tears out of Izuku only for him to bury that deep, deep down because he's got a while before he's gonna confront the mortifying ordeal of having a crush of his own

[natreads]

Ramblings about uni and the future

I'm trying to make a difficult decision. Since I've spent the last five years trying to break into the publishing industry and mostly failing (I'm freelance but can't get a full time job), I've been thinking very seriously about going back to uni to become a librarian instead. It's not really a career I've ever thought of, or wanted, but the same can be said for publishing. I decided I wanted to go that route when I already had a my bachelors degree. It felt like the "right" path, but I wasn't aware of how difficult it would be. The industry is so closed off, and I'm not very good at putting myself out there, so I've been struggling a lot. Not to mention people keep getting fired left and right so even if I do get in who knows how long that will last. I guess part of deciding to study something else, despite already having a masters degree and over six years of uni studies behind me, is that I feel like I need to essentially give up this dream, which would make the past five years feel like a waste even though I don't necessarily think they are. But I will have to give up the identity I have built around the industry. But I also feel like going another route won't mean I can't one day make it there too. But I also don't want to get another degree just to still be focusing on an industry that's this unattainable. I will have to focus on making it as a librarian instead and the idea of having to properly give up publishing makes me so sad, but I also know it will bring me relief once I actually do it. I need to study something where I will actually find work.

Another issue is that I really really REALLY don't want to study for another three years lmao. I talked to some people and there's a possibility that I COULD skip one semester due to previous studies, but I feel like it will be complicated and also not necessarily set in stone to manipulate the degree like that. I also got the tip to go take a masters instead which is two years, but here are the pros and cons to all of this:

Three year undergrad:

The school I did my BA at, so it's familiar

Since it's undergrad I'm not worried I will fail

Close to home (even if I move)

Unfortunately it's three years

It feels "silly" to get another BA when I could get an MA immediately instead

Two year masters program:

It's only two years

It will probably be hard

Could be done online, but I don't know if I have it in me to sit at home for two years again

It's in another city, but only takes an hour by train to get there

Unfortunately the train (pendeln) SUCKS and is super unreliable

And I would have to pay a bunch each time

But I like the idea of experiencing something new, since I both like the city (it's a college town) and don't think one hour is that bad

Another problem is that we'll be doing lots of group work so I might have to be there a lot which will be annoying

If I knew just HOW often I'd have to go I feel like it would be easier

I'm gonna be moving soonish to an apartment in the city here in Stockholm so I don't wanna move to Uppsala and do student housing, but my lease will only be one year so maybe I COULD during second year. I've never expeirenced student life like that before

Do I really wanna write another fucking masters thesis omg

I like the sound of two master degrees tho lmao

One semester will be dedicated to writing my thesis so I will mostly only have to commute for 1.5 years I guess, which makes the student housing in year two maybe unnessecary? But my lease will be up anyway soooo. In an ideal world I would be doing student housing my first year and then move into the other apartment after, but I can't do that and I don't wanna give up on a great opportunity

We'll be visiting libraries and whatnot and if it's in Uppsala (I kinda assume it is) I will have to figure out the public transit looool

Essentially, I think the undergrad one is safe but longer, while the MA is shorter but scarier. If I do the MA online I will be more comfortable, but also probably lowkey go crazy. Maybe if I knew if and how much I would be working at the bookstore after the summer I would pick the online version, since work would get me out of the house, but none of us know how needed I will be.

I know I need to change lanes, since I'm getting older and I need stability. Working in a library is the next best thing I can see myself doing after publishing (I kinda wanted to do marketing but I've realized it unfortunately goes against a lot of my morals and libraries are ethically the one and only place I stand 100% behind).

Idk if anyone has any insight or advice please lmk I'm so torn

[evolutionsbedingt]

I decided to make this a separate post because I realised this derailed quickly into me being frustrated by shoddy research BUT.

Inspired by this post by @/polarcell, who is also the owner of the following screenshot, here there be an

The Old Guard rant:

^Those were my tags before I decided not to bother OP with this.

As I've recently (as in, until last week) spent an enjoyable semester getting annoyed by Mycannaen Greek and whether or not the Ilias has any convincingly 12th century BCE features, I have even more opinions on this than I already had.

You see, in the fifth millennium in the Western Asian steppes (usually defined as the steppes on the western side of the Ural mountains - yes that's a lot of territory, don't worry about it) we didn't have Greek people. Hell, Greek people weren't even a speck on the horizon yet. Their ancestors, the Proto-Indo-European people may have just started to arrive from the Caucasus, but we're very, very far away from speaking Greek or using the name 'Scythians'.

Scythians are commonly defined as the people living in the North Pontic steppes between 7th and 3rd century BCE. Their name may derive from a self-description as archers. They spoke Scythian languages, Thracian (both Trümmer languages), Ancient Greek and Proto-Slavic (only known in reconstruction). Probably. Because thanks to the Scythians being nomadic we don't have a whole lot of writing from them, much less bigger texts in their own language.

And Andromache? Is first attested in Homer's Illiad and Fragment 44 by Sappho, both dated to the 8th century.

So it's possible for a Scythian woman to be called Andromache (and considering the meaning of her name it's quite appropriate for Andy to take it on). BUT! She's not originally Scythian! Her real name is not Andromache! This is an epithet she didn't bother getting rid off after the fall of the Scythian "empire"! She spent four thousand years being called something else beforehand, maybe something that sounded similar, maybe something we cannot possibly explain with PIE linguistics! BECAUSE SHE'S PROBABLY NOT EVEN PIE!! DO YOU KNOW HOW BADLY I WANT TO SIT THIS WOMAN DOWN AND MAKE HER SPEAK HER ORIGINAL LANGUAGE!!!?

(Also, her speaking "all" languages would in fact make sense for European and some Iranic languages if she is actually PIE and not from a people that lived in the Western Asiatic steppes before the immigration of the PIE people. And if she's been with Quynh for a few millennia - possibly even pre-Scythian times? did they arrive with them from the East? - it is very likely that an equal proficiency in the precursors of various East Asiatic and Turkic languages leads to an easy grasp of those. The rest probably is travelling and, I assure you, once you've learned a certain amount of languages it becomes easier to learn new ones.)

So what I'm saying is: Give me Andy's real name you cowards! I'm sure a friendly PIE linguist would have a lot of fun coming up with one (and perhaps it'll even be pronounceable for English people :P)!

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

Wincest Wednesdays

for @wincestwednesdays Sept 3rd prompt: Radio

on AO3

“You’re listening to KZSU Stanford at 90.1 FM. I’m Nicole and I’ll be your host for the next hour as we open the lines up for some dedications. This first one is going out to Brad from Angie…”

The coffee shop nearest to his dorm catered mainly to the college crowd and played the campus radio station at a volume that was loud enough to hear when the ambient clatter and hiss and chatter didn’t drown it out.

Sam had developed a habit of studying at a table in the corner, where he had the wall at his back and could see the entire place easily. His father’s voice was still too loud in his head to ignore, barking at him about situational awareness. 

But the noise, rather than being distracting, made it easier for him to focus. Like the act of filtering out the activity around him opened his mind up to remembering, cataloging, making connections in the information. Something about habits developed through childhood made them especially hard to shake, and even when he wasn’t trying to read or do school work in various cafes, diners, and restaurants, he would still need to tune out his brother. Dean who’d always had the tv or radio on, laughing or singing along, or sitting silent and brooding (which somehow was always louder to Sam than anything else).

“We’re dropping way back into the 70’s on this next song with Foghat’s I’ll Be Standing By for Samantha from an anonymous caller. Ooh, watch out Samantha, this one’s giving off creeper vibes.”

~~~

“It’s Tuesday again, so you know what that means! Got a special song for that special someone? Our phone line is open for the next hour, 855-723-9010.”

“Triple shot, soy, flat white!” the barista announced as he slid a cup onto the pick-up counter. 

Sam scooped it up and headed back to his regular table. Sitting down he pulled out his class notes and laptop. He popped the lid off his coffee, so it would cool faster, and got to work. Handwriting in class then transcribing later into a Word doc helped cement the information in his memory, and digital notes were so much easier to search when he was studying for tests. By the time he was finished, he slugged down the rest of his coffee, which had been room temperature for a while now, and started to pack up to go to his next class.

“For our final dedication today Samantha’s anonymous 70’s rock fan is back! This time he’s requested Zeppelin’s Out On the Tiles. So, Samantha, this one’s for you.”

The driving opening riff hit hard and familiar as Sam pushed through the door and strode out onto the sidewalk. A surge of nostalgia smacked a smile on his face as he shoved his hands deep in his pockets and tried his best to look like he fit in.

~~~

“Third Tuesday in a row, we’ve got ourselves a regular caller. Samantha, if you’re out there, here’s Telegram Sam by T-Rex.”

~~~

“Oh, Samantha, we’re back in maudlin territory this week. Your anonymous friend requested Dylan’s If You See Her, Say Hello. Maybe check on the people you know, 10:15 in the morning seems a little early to be that drunk.”

Sam was taking both Latin and Greek this semester since he already had a solid grasp of basic Latin and he was taking it because it was a requirement for more advanced classes. He hadn’t been as well versed in Greek so he spent more time going over his notes and working on his translations. 

“Two requests in one show? I think I touched a nerve when I said he sounded drunk. Sam, Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd.”

~~~

“Another Tuesday, another dedication to Studious Samantha from your 70’s classic rock fanboy. So here’s Paranoid by Black Sabbath. Sam, your creeper’s got a nice voice but he seems to be going through a manic phase, watch out.”

~~~

“Okay, Samantha, this is the sixth week in a row and I gotta admit, I’m intrigued by your man’s musical choices. This week he’s dedicating Shame on the Moon by Bob Seger to you.”

Sam’s eyes went wide. It was the Seger song that finally made the pattern click. It had to be. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in a number he knew by heart. It rang twice.

“Heya, Sammy.”

“Your mix tapes? First and last song on each?”

“Took you long enough. Hey, that Nicole sounds hot, think it’s just her voice or…”

“Jesus, Dean. Did you need something or have you really been calling up a college radio station DJ for a month and a half just to get my attention?”

“Just trying to have a little fun, shoulda known you be pissy about it.”

Sam rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose while Dean was quiet on the other end of the line.

Finally, Sam heard an irritated huff and then, “Whatever, man. Get back to studying, wouldn’t want to bother you.” 

The call disconnected.

Sam sighed and looked at the phone, like he couldn’t believe that was it. He dialed again and it went right to voicemail.

At the beep Sam simply said, “Jerk.” and hung up.