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444rockstargf · 2 months

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saw ur requests were open and RAN to ur asks but omg i saw a post a couple days ago about someone else joining kappa’s little group and reader gets jealous abt it bc kappa is giving the new person a lot of attention and i NEED it 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

can be the most filthiest thing you’ve ever written btw 🫶

thank you for being my first request in so long!!!

"don't forget me." | kappa

did you know that there's a tunnel under ocean blvd. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @livingdead-materialgirl @vanlisbon @oliviah-25 @livingdead-reilly @yungbloodsuxca @imoonkiss @lankysimp @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt

jealous!femdom!reader x sub!kappa

word count: 1.7k

contents: murder, home invasion, arson, a few death, kappa held at gunpoint, slight mommy kink, blowjob, cum eating

kappa pressed the muzzle of his gun against his helpless victim’s forehead, beads of sweat glistening against the black gunmetal. with a quick pull of the trigger, kappa shot the man and watched as he fell to the ground like a marionette who’d had its strings cut.

and behind kappa stood a dark figure, clad in effortlessly flattering rags that left little to the imagination. her hands were placed on his shoulders as she giggled at the sight of blood pooling on the ground. kappa’s arm wrapped around her bare waist, jealousy bubbling in your gut.

you stood in the corner of the room, holding the hunter’s knife that kappa had taught you how to use for finishing a job, but she was already on it. you leered at her as she slit open the victim’s neck, earning a laugh of approval from him. he gave her a pat on the back that travelled way too close to her ass for comfort as his eyes wandered to the drops of sweat cascading down her cleavage.

you felt an envious wave of heat rushing to your cheeks as he performed this overused gesture on the girl who had just smuggled her way into the cult.

you had been his partner in crime for longer than you could remember. like bonnie and clyde, he would spoil you with all the wealth and riches you’d ever dreamed of, all for the small price of sticking a bullet into the head of all those who got in his way. out of all his cult members, you’d always been his favourite. he’d keep you perched on his lap and had everyone treat you with the same respect that they would with him.

you looked around the victim’s house. it was a nice one, almost as nice as the other ones kappa had hijacked for you. but he was off, chatting away with his new vixen. your blood boiled at the sight. this was the third time this week that this newcomer had stolen your show. and now here she was, giggling at every stupid word he spoke and inching her way into his pants like a blood-thirsty parasite.

“you did great tonight, darlin’. next i’ll teach you how to use a handgun. you’d look real pretty holding a gun to someone’s head.” kappa cooed to her, sounding like a schoolboy in love. the cult walked through the gold-plated hallways of the house, searching for any valuables to snatch before burning the house to the ground.

but your red-hot revenge was about to sweet.

you took a deep breath, following them out of the room but making a quick detour to the kitchen, sneaking a few items into your pocket, along with a can of gasoline before strolling out of the house, kappa completely oblivious to your absence.

you stood on the front porch, looking up at the luxurious house and listening to the giggles and conversations from inside the house. the pretty stars in the night sky gleamed, one small star separated from all the rest, surely feeling the same way you felt.

but at the end of the day, stars were burning balls of fire. ones that matched the rage and jealousy that you felt right then. and you needed to let out some steam, or rather thick, black smoke.

you pulled a lighter and a can of spray from your pocket, unscrewing the gasoline and dousing the whole entrance with the toxic fluid. then you flicked open the lighter and woke up the flame with a long spray of flammable solution, the house engulfing in flames in a matter of seconds.

you backed away from the house, watching the flame eat it’s way up the monstrous building. pleased giggles turned into shrieks of fear as kappa and the rest felt the floor underneath them turn molten hot. the roof caved in, sending burning pieces of wood and embers flying everywhere, looking like shooting stars in the night.

smoke floated into the sky, adding a warm atmosphere to the scene. you saw a window break open, then kappa and his eye-candy lept out, coughing up a storm as an explosion rocked the ground.

too stunned to notice you, kappa fell to the ground, choking as smoke filled his lungs. he felt something light pressing the back of his head, slowly turning his head before his eyes widened with shock.

you stood behind him, your face contorted with rage as you pressed his gun to the back of his head, your finger threatening to pull the trigger. it was ironic, really. a look of fear flickered across his face. he stammered out a few frantic words. “w-what the hell is this about, doll?”

“shut up!” you yelled. “don’t act fucking stupid. you know what this is about. you abandoned me for the first slut who’d show you her tits and think i’m just gonna be okay with that?!” your hand trembled, nearly making you pull the trigger.

you could practically hear kappa’s heart hammering in his chest, his hands up as he surrendered to you. he was panting, glazed in a layer of sweat. silence filled the space between you two, and the scene finally sunk in.

here was your cult leader, on his knees in front of you and completely at your mercy. he looked so helpless like this, his hair falling into his face as he stared up at you with his pleading, icy eyes. you’ve would’ve laughed if someone had told you this was where you’d end up.

kappa’s eyes studied your face, taking in all the angry details that he’d never seen before. your flushed cheeks and ruthless gaze make a new sensation run through his body. one that he wished he could say he hated.

with his legs apart in the way that they were, you saw when his cock began to tent in his pants, a tiny white bead leaking through the thin fabric. your mouth gaped open at the sight. of course he’d get hard at a moment like this. fucking whore. a little grin tugged at your lips. “get up.” you ordered, and he immediately did so. you had never been the one making the commands.

as he stood up, you pressed the gun to his boner, speaking in a dark, threatening tone. “i never want you talking to that bitch again. i don’t care if she stays in the cult, but she’s obviously taken your attention away from the only person it should be on.”

he let out a little whimper as the contact came to his erection. he nodded frantically, a lustful blush covering his cheeks. you smiled a little, nodding as you dragged him away from the scene as the deafening sound of sirens filled the neighbourhood.

you moved to a dark alleyway, and once you were there you pinned him to the wall and pulled him into a deep, hungry kiss, his hips grinding into the muzzle of the gun as he desperately searched for even the smallest amount of pleasure.

you pulled the gun away, making him whine quietly. “p-please… touch me…” you looked down and saw the mess he had made of himself, cum leaking through his pants. your expression turned into a slight scowl. “you really think you deserve my touch?” he pouted a little. “i-ill get you anything you want. ill do anything at all, baby… j-just please.”

he looked so submissive pressed against the wall like that. you slowly sank down to your knees, you dominance only getting stronger from there. “strip for me.” you commanded. he shyly slipped off his pants, letting them fall to his ankles and letting his foot-long cock spring out. you pressed the muzzle to his tip, drawing a string of cum from it.

you wrapped your other hand around his shaft, starting to pump him quickly as you gazed up at him with predatory eyes. he let out a sharp hiss as his hips bucked into your touch. he had been craving it so bad because his new girl wasnt half as good as you were.

you brought the gun to his ballsack, finger on the trigger as his heart raced from pleasure and panic. the deadly combination that he’d gotten you addicted to.

he bit his bottom lip hard, drawing blood and letting a sharp iron tang fill his tastebuds. you moved your hand up and down his length, using his precum as lube as he throbbed from stimulation. “j-just like that, mama… t-thank you.” mindless little praises slipped from his lips as you brought your tongue to his cock, swirling it around the swollen tip.

he shuddered as you took him all the way in, using your teeth to deliver some edge to the pleasure. his back arched against the wall as he accidentally gripped your hair, almost making you blow his balls off. cum spilled out into the depths of your throat, filling your mouth with that familiar salty taste.

his eyes rolled to the back of his head as you used the gun to tease his asshole, the stimulation quickly becoming too much for him to handle. “o-oh my god… i-i can’t take it, mama..!” you bobbed your head up and down quickly, the rapid pulsation of his dick syncing with your racing heartbeat. you gagged and choked on his ginormous girth, your nose pressing against his stomach as you swallowed every inch of it.

his knees collapsed and he groaned out loudly, all intense feelings crashing down onto him at once as lava-like cum flooded your intestines. tears rolled down his cheeks as the orgasm shook his balance, making him lean against the wall for dear life. you pulled yourself off, catching your breath before getting back to your feet, kissing him once again and making him taste himself off your cum-stained lips.

he moaned deeply, shooting a few more ropes of cum onto the pavement as your tongues fought a silent war, his arms wrapped around your body as he clung to you. you felt his lip quiver underneath yours, desperation radiating off of him in waves. you smiled a little into the kiss, knowing that he wouldn’t let go of you anytime soon. you had him wrapped around your finger just as quickly as he got plucked away from you.

author's note: i rlly didn't mean for this to be so long. but it was so fun to write :))

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #lana del rey #smut #did you know that there’s a tunnel under ocean blvd #rory culkin kappa #kappa x reader #kappa smut #kappa black mirror

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kappasbbgirl · 2 months

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heard the word CULT and stopped breathing for .2 seconds pleaseeeeee give me full film cult leader rory im begging

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #rory culkin x reader #culkin brothers #kappa black mirror #5 lbs of pressure #kappa come home the kids miss you

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icarus-star · 6 months

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I'm obsessed with how much this guy's bodylooks like rory's <3 this is me with danny and charlie btw https://x.com/softintimacy/status/1718520826494853438?s=20

SKSJSJAKSJ OKAY IT MIGHT BE A STRETCH BUT LIKE.. THAT VIDEO = SUBBY!KAPPA...? 🫣🫣

#thank you anon 😘#rory culkin #i ❤ rory culkin #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin smut #charlie walker #danny cooper #☆arties inbox #kappa black mirror

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majosullivan · 4 months

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WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK, WITH BOTH THE BOYS BEING OUTRAGEOUSLY DOWN BAD FOR EACH OTHER IN THEIR OWN WAYS

#SIREN’S FANTASIES???#KAPPA’S FUCKING ‘I WON’T RAVAGE YOU TONIGHT’???#SIRS #Kappa was actually so funny for that though #castle swimmer #castle swimmer kappa #kappa #castle swimmer siren #siren #kappa x siren #siren x kappa

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wardenparker · 1 year

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The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Dating Your Ex - ch 3

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Marcus unexpectedly runs into his ex-wife he is plunged into a world of complications where rekindled attraction and deep-seated insecurities reign. Unfortunately for him, it is also a world where his ex-wife is not the only ‘ex’ around, as a new case crosses his desk that will require all hands on deck. ✨💖Inspired by and based upon absurdthirst’s Tequila💖✨

Rating: E for Explicit! Word Count: 9.2k Warnings: **Blanket warnings for this series include: divorce, break ups, collegiate Greek life, underage drinking, food/alcohol consumption.** Biting, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex, vaginal sex, dirty talk, rough sex, choking, and a huge helping of fluffy feels. Summary: The end of your night with Marcus goes much differently than either of you expected. Notes: Reader is described as having pubic hair. I make no apologies or excuses for this chapter. It is blissful filth and I love it. Obviously the gif choice in no way represents reader physically, it’s just fun to look at. 💖✨

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2

From underground parking to the elevator to the fifth-floor hallway of your building, you and Marcus are relatively quiet. It’s not until you open your front door that you open your mouth again. “Sorry it’s messy,” you mumble. “I wasn’t expecting to have company.”

Marcus grins. When you two lived together you called yourself ‘artistically messy’. It was mostly Marcus that kept the small apartment clean, his own ‘nice nasty’ tendencies as his grandma would call them, came out to play. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m sure you weren’t expecting your ex-husband.”

“Not even in my wildest dreams,” you admit, setting your purse on the table beside the door and locking the door behind the two of you as he steps inside.

He hums, shucking the suit jacket again and folding it over his arm. “Don’t worry, I’m not judging you.”

“Living room straight ahead, kitchen to the right, bathroom and everything else to the left.” The second bedroom is now an office that has a pull out couch in case anyone you know needs a place to crash. But for now, you’re headed for the kitchen. “Coffee with your cheesecake or something else?”

“Coffee is good, unless…” he pauses and shakes his head. Continuing to drink wouldn’t be a good idea. It’s not like you invited him back for a nightcap. This isn’t a date, no matter how much he might wistfully hope. That time was long past.

“Unless lives in the corner of the living room.” The large wood and brass bar cabinet you hauled here from your last place stands guard against the far wall of the living room on the other side of the little bistro table where you eat your breakfast every morning. “Pour whatever you want, but pour two.” It’s just…a kind of comforting you didn’t expect, to have him nearby and so willing to spend his time with you. You could almost trick yourself into believing that not so much had changed between you.

“Okay.” Marcus puts his jacket down and walks over the bar, interested to see that like him, there’s no tequila. He picks up a bottle of red wine and looks at the label with interest. It seems that you have a good bottle here. “How about wine?” He calls towards the kitchen.

“That will work!” You call back, pulling the small cherry cheesecake you made out of the fridge. Plates and forks and a knife come out of their hiding places in your kitchen and you cut two reasonably sized slices. If he wants more, you’ll gladly let him have it. “Want to sit on the couch or at the table?”

"Wherever you want." Marcus wants you to be comfortable first and foremost, but he does want to sit next to you. He finds the corkscrew and opens the bottle before pouring two glasses.

“Couch.” Appearing in the archway between the kitchen and living room a second later with two plates in hand, you nod toward the big plush sofa that faces your tv and smile. He looks good puttering around your apartment. Almost like he’s supposed to be here.

There's something intimate about the way you've kicked off your heels and you are bringing over the plates to the couch in your bare feet. It makes him wish for those days that you wandered around the apartment you shared with nothing but your panties and a tank top on. Or when you would wear his fraternity sweatshirt and socks. He loved that look.

“So it’s cherry chocolate.” Setting the plates down on the coffee table, you slip out of your own suit jacket to sit down beside him. It’s nearly intimate, and twists like guilt in your gut. “I’m going to test out a pumpkin spice version with gingerbread crust for Thanksgiving this year. Leah’s husband loves pumpkin spice.”

His head cocks slightly as he thinks about that. "It would be fantastic." He's always been a sucker for gingerbread cookies. Soft, chewy gingerbread, not the hard shit they tried to pass off as gingerbread.

“Volunteering to be my taste tester?” The two of you sit side by side, mostly facing each other, as you start in on your dessert.

You want him to be around, to come around again. Marcus pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth before he nods. "Yeah, I guess I am." He tells you with a grin. "I'll make sure to put in extra time at the gym."

The gym. You nearly sigh, burying the sound in taking a sip of wine. Marcus at the gym had been a thing to admire when he was younger - an absolute snack, you had called him unapologetically and teasingly bitten his arm or shoulder to make him laugh. But Marcus now is a whole goddamn three course meal. Stop ogling your ex-husband, you moron. “So what does Marcus Pike do on the weekends these days?” You ask, desperate to change the subject.

Marcus chuckles and shakes his head. “Would you be terribly disappointed to learn that I enjoy sleeping in, sometimes going to the farmer’s market they set up over on Dupont Circle? Or walk around the Mall? Find a new restaurant?” He shrugs. “I’m old and boring now.”

“It’s not like I’m partying until 3am and going to work at 6 anymore,” you laugh, shrugging a little. You would never survive Greek life and a waitressing job these days. Never. “The highlights of my weekend are live bands at Parlor on Fridays and trivia brunches with the girls from the office on Sunday. Except…” Flashing him a grin, you chuckle a little. The little things in life mean a lot more now. “I go to the Palisades farmer’s market when I can drag myself out of bed on Saturdays.”

"It sounds like you have a routine." He approves of it, nodding and reaching for his wine glass. "Nothing like being able to spend a few hours in bed just relaxing. Even worth missing the farmer's market."

“I’d rather spend a couple of hours in bed for other reasons.” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, and the look of absolute mortification on your face a second later in unmistakable. What the hell did you just go and say a thing like that for?!

He nearly chokes on his wine but he manages to swallow it. Bringing the cup down and setting it on the coffee table along with his cheesecake. "I remember." He promises you, eyes darkening when he thinks about the weekends where you wouldn't leave the bed unless it was to finally try to rehydrate or eat something quickly. There's enough alcohol in his system to make him feel like he had that first time he saw you. He inches closer to you, his hand along the back of the sofa and he leans in slightly. "Is that why I'm here?" He asks, eyes dropping down to your lips and then back up to meet your gaze.

Jesus Christ - it wasn’t before but it definitely fucking is now. With your throat running so dry that you can barely swallow and Marcus looking at you like that you feel like you’re about to implode where you sit, just praying to whatever is out there that this doesn’t completely backfire on both of you. “D-do you want it to be?”

Marcus flashes you a grin, small but powerful. "I have to admit something, sweetheart." He bites his lip and leans in a little closer. "I've never wanted something more."

He’s always felt like wildfire under your fingertips, and your hand hovers over his forearm on the back of the couch for just a second while you force yourself to breathe. You’ve both been drinking and it’s been a weird week and you don’t want to do this unless he’s fully aware of what he’s saying. “Marc…” Despite your commitment to not leaping forward and straddling his lap, you have definitely leaned in and you can hear your own breathing quicken. “Are you drunk?”

"No." He knows he's not. He's had two whiskey's and a shot during the nearly two hours at the restaurant and now the couple of sips of wine here. He wonders if you are regretting bringing him to your apartment and are trying to pump the brakes on this. "I could pass a field sobriety test with flying colors." He swallows, wondering if he should back off. You aren't the carefree teenager that he met so many years ago and there is history between you. Still he doesn't move back, just stares at you while he waits for you to say something.

“Neither am I.” When you put your hand down, connecting skin to skin for the first time in thirteen years, it’s more than wildfire. It’s a fucking volcano. And before you can even blink, you’re pressing into his space to crush your lips against his like it’s Welcome Night at Kappa Sigma all over again.

You taste like red wine and cherry cheesecake but it's the best taste in the world. The second you make the move, Marcus is wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer and opening up so he can dip inside your mouth to taste you better.

The few seconds it takes for him to haul you against him are the same ones you need to plant your knees on either side of his hips, letting the kiss deepen without hesitation. Marcus has a place in your heart that will never fade, you have accepted that, but you never thought with any kind of realism that he would ever forgive you even if you did see him again. This? His enormous hands spread over your sides and your arms around his neck as you brazenly lick into each other’s eager mouths? Is better than you could ever have dreamt.

It's like time has faded away and he's back in his early twenties with you. The way you feel against him is like a magical balm to the hurt and heartaches he's had over the past decade. His tongue slides against yours with a needy moan and he doesn't hesitate to slide a hand down your back and squeeze your ass just like he had a million times before when you were in his lap.

Too much and not enough all at once, you’re sure this is just a dream you’ll wake up from any second. But it’s too good. Your daydreams never let Marcus be this solid underneath you. They don’t quite capture the way his fingertips dig into your when he grips your side or squeezes your ass. Your imagination has never quite been able to replicate the exact tremor of Marcus’s moan as it vibrates through your body. It’s so perfect you could just break right down and cry from relief and joy — and you might later on, but right now your focus is entirely on him.

He's dreamed of kissing your skin a million times during those nights when your memory haunts him. He had tried to banish you from his thoughts but his subconscious betrayed him. Now though, he breaks away from your lips and hungrily trials kisses down your jaw and along your neck, determined to cover every inch of your skin with his lips and then do it all over again.

The best decision you’ve ever made in your life was putting on a button down shirt this morning. Well, second best. Second after bringing Marcus home with you tonight. There’s no one quite like him, in absolutely any way, and when you whimper into the crook of his neck you can feel him grip you just a little bit tighter.

It’s addictive, like being drunk on you. His fingers tearing at the little seed pearl buttons of your blouse, probably ripping some off but he doesn’t care. Frantic to feel more of you, kiss more of you, as if he’s on a time limit for gorging himself on you.

"Marc." There's no use denying it, you'd let him have you right on your goddamn sofa if that's what he wanted tonight. Your hands tearing at his shirt to untuck it from his pants are proof.

He fucking loves when you whine his name like that. Pulling open your shirt to expose the lacy bra, he groans and dips his head, kissing along your sternum and over the swells of your breasts.

Trying to tear him away from you long enough to get his own shirt off is nearly impossible, just because he refuses to detach from your skin for longer than anything but a breath. "Fuck, Marc," you toss away your own shirt when he won't let you undress him, and reach behind you to unclasp your bra and reject that as well. If tonight is the only time you get to be with him like this again, you don't want to hold anything back.

Marcus groans, immediately kisses down the slope of your breast so he can take your nipple in his mouth. Biting down on it before laving it with his tongue and tugging on it with the hot suction of his mouth.

"Fuck," you pant the word again, never taking your eyes off the gorgeous sight of him exploring your skin. It's like a time machine has rolled you both back fifteen years and everything is good again as you drag the fingers of one hand through his hair. "Baby..." It takes a second, but you finally manage to drag his eyes up to yours. "Do you want to move this down the hall?"

The way his cock twitches under you should give you the answer that you want, he’s already hard and aching to sink into you again. “Yes.” He rasps out, fingers digging into your hips as he lifts his hips so you can feel every inch of his interest.

Diving into a deep kiss is grounding for you. The rest of your body may be impatient - hips rolling down to meet Marcus’s and skin that is on fire everywhere he has touched - but your heart knows that this is so much more than sex for you. If it isn’t for him then you’ll have to live with that, but Marcus Pike has never been a Love Em And Leave Em sort of man. You carefully step back, climbing out of his lap but making no moves to retrieve your clothes or tidy up. That can wait. The only thing in the world that matters right now is the way Marcus accepts your outstretched hand as he gets up. He clings to you as much as you do to him, and for a moment you can pretend that this is just the first of many nights to come.

There is no universe in which Marcus wouldn’t go with you. Not when this is what he’s wanted, unknowingly, since he saw you sitting in that office. He’s always wanted you, whether he will admit it or not. Searching for you in the women he’s been with since you. Getting up, he kisses the back of your hand. “Show me the way, sweetheart.”

It could have been frantic - clothing tossed aside along the hallway that leads to your bedroom - but it’s surprisingly calm. With his hand in yours you flip off the few lights on in the apartment and only turn on the lamp beside your bed once you get there. But there’s a sort of muscle memory at play, or at least it feels that way, when you put your arms around him next to your bed and angle your head up to ask for a kiss while you start to undress him.

Marcus groans, the scent that fills your bedroom has change but the underlying scent of you is still there. That musky aroma that he could recognize anywhere that just screams you. His kiss is gentle, giving you yet another chance to change your mind.

Just a minute is all you need. All it takes to have the layers of the day stripped away so that the two of you are just you. Bare again for the three thousandth time, pouring your hearts into a kiss so tender it can only be described in one word that you refuse to say. You’re not going to ruin this by presuming anything. You nudge Marcus backward, his legs hitting the edge of your bed with a dull thump, and you giggle softly at the sound. “I missed you.” Those are the words you go with, whispered in the moonlight after you shut off the lamp you needed only for a second.

He huffs slightly, pulling you close and slotting his mouth against your while he rolls the two of you around in the bed, pinning you under him. It’s probably the most understated thing you can say. “Missed you too.” He answers, starting his exploration of you all over again now that he has you spread out.

Marcus was never weak by any means but something about how broad he is now makes him feel stronger, and if it’s an illusion you don’t care for a second. The feeling of his hands and lips and tongue trailing down your body is far more intoxicating than anything you drank tonight, pulling whimpers and moans from you that fill the cool night air with a kind of unexpected enchantment. Well, if it is, this is a magic spell you’ll happily fall under all over again.

A kiss here, a nip of his teeth there. The closer Marcus gets to his destination the more ravenous he’s becoming. It should be infuriating that you cloud his mind, that you so easily take over his senses and make everyone else pale in comparison. He should be furious because you will hurt him again. Instead he’s determined. Determined to show you why leaving was a mistake. To make you feel him for days when he’s done with you.

If you only say his name for the entire time he’s in your bed it still won’t be enough. The noises that drip from your lips start somewhere in your chest and seem to just bubble over, punctuated only by “Marcus” and “Baby” and plaintive additions of “Oh fuck” as he settles in the valley of your thighs to place kisses everywhere but where you want him most. In his most playful moods he used to make you wait like this, lingering on the edge of madness while you begged for him, but tonight there’s a thoroughness to it that almost feels desperate. Determined. Like he’s afraid you’ll only let him in once so he’s going to make sure it’s goddamn worth it.

You’ve grown out your hair. He remembers when you were adamant that you were waxed or shaved before he would be allowed to put his mouth on you. Huffing when you would pull yourself out of his arms and leave him with a hard cock while you jumped in the shower to scrape the hair from your vagina like it was offensive. He could never convince you he didn’t care but now he presses his nose against the springy curls and inhales your scent, groaning and latching onto your clit to suck it into his mouth.

“I’m not wasting time tonight,” you huff, thinking the same thing he is. Even now you’d rather be clean for a partner, but you refuse to waste even a second tonight. For the split second before he wraps his lips around your swollen nub you almost think he’s going to tease you about it, but his focus is elsewhere. It’s on making you gasp, keening into the moonlight when he moans into your dripping pussy

He sucks on your clit before he flicks his tongue against it, dragging it up and down the sensitive folds of your pussy. Thick fingers spreading your lips wide as he plunges his tongue into your soaked walls.

“Fuck, Marc—” When his tongue curls up he takes your entire back with it, arching you off the bed and making you cry out in that way that only Marcus can. For all the lovers you’ve taken to bed over the years, no one ever learned your body the way he did. No one ever melted into you the same way. No one was ever as good as Marcus - to you or for you.

He loves the way you sound, the way you cry out his name. Curling and flicking his tongue up into your fluttering walls and pushing as deep as he can with his nose pushing against your clit.

The things he can do with that mouth are so good they should be criminal, and your fingers tugging sharply in his hair are pure encouragement. You’re eighteen and inexperienced all over again, chasing that first explosive orgasm together in his tiny bed at the frat house — and it’s amazing. The molten slick that pours from your slit was addictive so many years ago and he’s delighted to find that it’s still the case. Groaning and determined to make you cum before the next minute passes on the nightstand clock.

Blissfully unaware of the challenge he has set for himself, all you know is that the coil of pleasure tightening inside you is firmly wrapped around Marcus’s fingers and if he pulls just right it will snap and scatter you in a thousand pieces right there underneath him. His fingers take over for his tongue, sinking three into you and curling them up while he sucks your clit back into his mouth. Eyes fixed on you while he waits for the ticking time bomb to explode.

The cry that he pulls from you is so loud you couldn’t stop it if you tried - and tonight you are definitely not trying to be silent. Marcus should know exactly how devastating his fingers and mouth are to the few threads left holding you together, and the way that he snaps the connection on each of those threads is enough to have you moaning his name into the cool autumn night. The first orgasm you’ve had in months at someone else’s hands was always going to be fantastic, but Marcus can pull orgasms out of you like it’s as easy as breathing.

He's greedy, wanting more. Needing more. It's been so long since he's felt your pussy clench around his fingers, tasted your cum on his tongue. He's drunk now, drunk on you and he moans into your flesh while he works you through the peak and pushes you towards another with his fingers buried knuckle deep in your walls.

The buildup is enough to have you clawing at the sheets with one hand and scraping Marcus’s scalp with the other, and you know that the old couple above you keeps their windows open at night and is hearing all of this but you just can’t yourself to care when he’s wrenching that second beautiful orgasm out of you almost effortlessly. Only when you soak his fingers for the second time does he pull them out of you. Replacing them with his tongue and lapping up every drop your have to give him, slurping your release down like it's the finest wine.

“Fucking hell, Marc,” you whimper when overstimulation hits, but you’ll be damned if you’re going to make him stop for any reason. You’d rather be overstimulated and full of him than ever be without him again.

When he pulls back, he smacks his lips with a slight smirk on his face. "Missed doing that." He coos, kissing your inner thigh and sucking on your skin harshly. He wants to break the capillaries under your skin and leave a mark for you feel when you get dressed over the next few days.

“You’re so much better at eating pussy than like… anyone.” It makes you laugh, breathless and joyful, and you thump backward on your own pillow with a grin.

"You broke me in." He reminds you. It wasn't that he hadn't had girlfriends before you, he hadn't been a virgin. But you had been his wife, and he had taken making sure you were completely satisfied very seriously. "My skills were tailored to your pussy." He winks and kisses up your hip, dipping his tongue into your belly button before he shuffles to the side and looks down at you fondly.

“Just like my blow job skills are tailored to you.” It’s beyond your restraint not to kiss him, pulling him in and urging him to crowd you into the mattress.

"God I loved your blow jobs." He groans into your mouth playfully. He's not joking but he grins at you as he kiss you again, and shifts to his elbows as your legs fall open for him to slot himself between.

“You can have as many as you want.” It’s a promise, and from now on you’re keeping every single promise you make to him come hell or high water. “But right now I need to feel you, baby.”

He groans, the promise of your mouth around his cock is almost perfect but he closes his eyes. Knowing that it might not be anything more than your mouthy, post-orgasmic mouth running. Instead he kisses your forehead and pulls away. "Need a condom." He grunts, knowing that he has been safe but he's also slept with someone else less than a week ago.

“Nightstand.” His arms are longer than yours and he reaches the lone drawer in your nightstand much more easily than you would from the center of your bed. The flash of disappointment in not getting to feel his bare cock is worth it to be safe but you’re going to very nicely ask him to get tested again asap so he can go without. He’s perfect on his own.

He opens the drawer with a pang of slight jealousy. Wondering how many men have opened this same drawer, but he shoves the feeling down. It's not his place to feel possessive over your sex life after he was no longer your husband. Instead of dwelling on it, he grabs a foil packet and kneels between your thighs, ripping it open and concentrating on rolling it down his length.

His concentration gives you a moment to just be. Just absorb what is happening for all the magic that it actually holds. The coincidences and little accidents that led up to having him here - in your bed - so many years after it should have been made impossible. When he finally looks back up at you from the cradle between your legs, you feel so light you could nearly cry. “God you’re even more handsome somehow…” you murmur, leaving a dusting of kisses across his face that ends at his lone dimple. That boyish mark of good looks that he’ll carry forever was always one of your favourite little things.

It's impossible not to preen when your ex-wife compliments you like that. Marcus hums and reaches out to caress your breast, sliding his hand down to push under your back while he takes himself in hand. "You look like you did the day I met you." He tells you, believing every word of it. You are still gorgeously youthful.

It’s impossibly sweet - Marcus level sweet - but you still chuckle just a little and shake your head. “If you say so, baby.” He has improved with age, without a doubt, and for just a second as he leans down over you and you feel the blunt head of his cock at the entrance to your pussy, you let yourself imagine again what growing old with him could be like.

It's sad the way he reacts to you calling him baby. The quiver of his skin, shuddering under your fingertips as he pushes the first inch of him inside your pussy for the first time in nearly twelve years. "Fuck." He pants out, his hand letting go of his hand and bracing his weight beside your body as his hips roll forward as steadily as he can muster.

“Goddamn.” You’re panting, legs hitching up on hips as he slowly buries himself inside you. It’s just sex, you would have told yourself with anyone else. Just sex. Not a fucking spiritual experience. But this is Marcus — and sex with Marcus has always been as close to heaven as anyone in earth could ever hope to get.

"Still so–so dirty in bed." He huffs, groaning when he is buried to the root inside you. Your mouth was always filthy in bed and he loved it.

“‘M out of practice,” you admit, carefully choosing a place to nip and suck on on his shoulder that will be easily covered by his clothes.

"Impossible." Marcus huffs, leaning down and groaning in your ear as he starts to pull his hips back. "Are the men in D.C. blind? They should–should be lining up to feel this–this perfect pussy." He twitches when he slides back into you smoothly and bottoms out again.

“Turns out I’m picky.” Even with him inside you, you feel the heat of embarrassment in your cheeks when you softly press your lips to his. “None of them were as good as my husband.”

He growls, the next thrust nothing but a sharp snap of his hips. Feeling possessive and wanting to completely claim you. Make sure you remember why no one was as good as he was.

“Fuck!” It takes you off guard when he doubles down, but you end up with your eyes practically rolling back in your head as you hold onto him for dear life.

His pace is rougher than it was when you were together. More confident and self assured as he continuously snaps his hips forward and fills you again and again. Grunting and hissing through his teeth as he sets a harsh tempo.

Each time the headboard hits the wall you want to add another curse to the list, every filthy thought piling up in your head until they're spilling out of your mouth with reckless abandon. If Marcus misses your filthy mouth then you're going to give it to him, letting out a torrent of curses and praises and encouragements that would make anyone blush.

It's loud, fuck it's loud, and Marcus half expects someone to start beating on the wall. Not that he gives a fuck. He would just fuck you even harder if someone started complaining. Obsessed with the way that you are keening for him, your body bucking every time his hips slam into yours. "Fuuuuuuck baby."

Cumming this time is like an out of body experience. The fully realized home porno that the two of you have become tonight is on par with the some of the neediest, most demanding nights you have ever had together and if your voice is hoarse tomorrow then it is a badge of honour that you will wear proudly. Marcus is battering your g-spot like it's a punching bag at the gym and your cries turn silent as you clench down on him and grip his shoulders tightly in the throes of that third orgasm.

He hisses, sliding his hand around your throat and presses his thumb around your windpipe, watching your eyes widen while he grabs your leg with his other hand and pushes it back. Changing the angle and groaning when you manage to get even wetter.

This is new, is the first thought in your head, but at the same time it's so gloriously dirty that when you whimper it's pure pleasure. You're split open with his cock spearing into you at a pace that has him sweating, and all you can really do is continue giving him extremely vocal approval as he keeps you pinned to the mattress with your tits bouncing on every thrust.

His hand looks good against your neck, adjusting the pressure of his thumb with the thrust of his cock. Making sure that he is shredding up into you as hard as he can push his hips. "Fuck baby, you're–you're so good."

Your responding groan is entirely meant to tell him that he is the good one, and you whimper when his hips stutter and his rhythm starts to falter. Marcus is a goddamn work of art when he cums, and you can't wait to see that masterpiece in real life again.

His mouth drops open and he lets out a low groan of your name. Pushing deep one last, desperate thrust, Marcus falls over the edge. Panting as his cock throbs, filling the condom as he hovers over you, trembling in pleasure.

Your arms wrap around him without hesitation, offering him the place cradled against your chest to lay himself down and find his breath back. "Choking, huh?" You giggle, grinning at him unrepentantly.

"You didn't like it?" He asks, twisting his head and looking up at you with a skeptical look. "It felt like you liked it from the way that you clamped down on my cock."

"No, I loved it." It's not like you're going to deny it. That would be both useless and a little dumb at this point. "I just didn't expect it. You've picked up a few new tricks."

He hums, reaching down and gripping the base of the condom so he can pull out of you. "Twelve years will do that." He shuffles off the bed and moves towards the bathroom so he can dispose of the condom and grab you a washrag.

He's right, of course, but it stings. It's a blessing that he's walked off for a second and doesn't see the unmistakable way your face falls. It gives you time to recompose yourself before he comes back. You have no one to blame but yourself, so you can't exactly get upset with him for pointing out the truth.

Even if the comment hadn't meant to highlight how long you had been apart, Marcus still takes a moment in the bathroom. Wishing you weren't so glib about everything. He wonders if this is some kind of wish fulfillment for you. Sleep with the ex for old time's sake. He wets a washcloth and brings it back so he can clean you up. Or let you do it if you want. You had always decided after the fact and so he offers it to you first.

"Would you...?" He always preferred to do it himself. That gentlemanly streak extending even to post-sex clean up. For you it was simply something practical that had to get done, but for Marcus aftercare was something that he always took very seriously. Could you do it yourself in under five seconds? Of course. But Marcus has a way of making things mean more just by being there for them.

"Of course." He is happy that you are letting him do this. Those last few months before you asked for a divorce you would disappear into the bathroom right after sex. It had made him feel like he was doing something wrong, which apparently he had been. You spread your legs wider and he kneels back on the bed and gently slides the cloth over your folds so he can clean you up.

You're both quiet, and the awkwardness seeping into the air between you is nearly making you feel sick by the time he tosses the messy cloth into your laundry basket across the room. Shifting over, you move the blanket down to offer him a place in bed beside you and swallow the fear that he might want to leave. That this might have been one time only and he was done now that he had gotten closure or whatever it was he was seeking in your bed.

He pauses for a moment, wondering if you are genuinely offering for him to climb back in the bed with you or just being nice because you think that you should. He looks from the spot to where you are watching him and he thinks he sees apprehension in your eyes, whether it's for him to stay or for him to go, he doesn't know. But it makes him move toward the bed to slip under the covers beside you.

Despite the fact that he was inside of you less than five minutes ago, you still hesitate before inching closer to him. You can't tell if he actually wants to stay or if he's being nice, and the idea that he might not be there in the morning is so devastating that you have to make yourself stop and breathe so you don't break out into anxious tears. "W–we should talk about it?" It's more of a question than a statement, and you hate yourself a little for not being more confident about all of this. But how can you, when he would be completely within his rights to just walk out on you like you walked out on him?

"If you want." Marcus is hesitant because he doesn't want to hear that this was some sort of itch for you to scratch. That it was just a good time. He opens his arms and invites you to curl into him. Needing the comfort of you close to him before you break his heart again.

"Do you not want to talk?" It makes the fear seize in your heart in a very real way, but you still go to him like a magnet.

"Not if it's going to–" He breaks off what he was going to say and sighs. "We need to." He agrees softly, knowing that it would be cowardly to not talk about it. You were both adults and he knew that he could get hurt when he came home with you tonight.

"I–" Reminding yourself to breathe - to be honest - you exhale slowly and find his eyes in the moonlight. "I don't want this to just be a one time thing. Or a meaningless thing. But if this was just...closure for you, or whatever...I'll respect that." It would break your heart, but you would never force him to be with you. That might actually be worse than having him walk away.

Through lots and lots of therapy over the past year, Marcus has learned that he can’t just jump in. He tries to curb the instinct now, taking a moment to absorb your words and make sure he understands. Relief floods his entire system, happy that you feel that way. “And what exactly is it that you do want?” He asks, making sure that his arm is curled around your shoulders, his fingers stroking your skin softly.

"Not more than will make you happy." The answer is him. You want him back, but if he doesn't want to be with you again you aren't going to make him. After all, twelve years is a long fucking time to be apart and he might want different things in a partner now.

“That’s not an answer.” He hums, aware that you are seemingly walking on eggshells around him right now and he doesn’t like it. Deflection and refusing to be honest is what landed you here where you are.

You sigh softly, squeezing your eyes shut before opening them again to find him studying you carefully. "I am afraid to ask whether or not you would want to keep seeing me," you admit, letting your head hit the pillow again softly. "Because I don't think I deserve a second chance even though I want one."

It’s what he needs to hear, turning on his side and reaching up to cup your cheek and gently swipe his thumb over your cheek bone. “Do you think I would have gone home with you if I didn’t want to see you again?” He asks softly, wanting to make sure you know that he’s not that type of man.

"I hoped not." That, at least, you can admit freely. The warmth of his calloused hand on your face makes you shiver slightly, but not at all in a bad way. It's more like...disbelief. "But I would have deserved it if you decided to walk out on me after we were finished."

“I didn’t want the divorce.” He admits, although he’s sure you know that. He hadn’t fought you on it, but he also hadn’t been happy about it. “I wanted to spend my life with you.”

You nod, eyes falling shut again momentarily as you swallow down years and years of guilt. You know he didn't want the divorce, but when he didn't fight you, you tricked yourself into believing that you were freeing him to find a better life. That he must have known a better life was possible, since he didn't protest. "I'm so, so sorry." The words nearly break you, tears brimming in your eyes and the tightening in your chest making it hard to take a breath for longer than you're proud of. "It was my fault. All of it."

“Stop.” Marcus chides you softly, shaking his head and urging your chin up slightly where it’s fallen. “Baby– look at me.”

The thing that mostly gets you to comply is hearing him call you baby, feeling like you don't deserve even that small amount of affection. But you wipe the tears from under your eyes fiercely, forcing yourself to look up.

He sighs softly, hating the tears that are in your eyes. “I loved you enough to let you go.” He murmurs quietly, his thumb moving down and he rubs it over your lips. “You told me that your future wasn’t yours with me, so I knew that you had to do what you needed to alone. That if I tried to force you to stay, you would hate me for it. So I said yes when you asked for a divorce.” The words had been like a knife to his heart, but he had realized what they meant later on.

"I was an idiot." When he opens his mouth to protest you shake your head, insisting that he let you elaborate. "I should have talked to you. Had the tough conversations instead of thinking that compromise didn't exist. So it was my fault. It just took a hell of a lot of therapy to realize where I went wrong."

“And I should have known that maybe you weren’t ready to plan out every detail of our lives.” He chuckles. “Lots of therapy for me too.” He bites his lip. “I would have gone with you.” He confesses. “If you had told me what you needed, what you wanted, I would have gone with you.”

"I didn't really know, though." It's your own confession. That even if he had given you the reins to choose what direction your future was going to go in, you wouldn't have known where to lead him. "I changed my focus at George Washington twice before settling on my masters and then the Sorbonne happened because one of my professors was taking her sabbatical in France and knew of a spot in the program there. It was a whirlwind. And you..." Your eyes search his face, seeing the softness there that makes your heart ache. "The FBI, baby? If you had come to France with me you never would have found such an amazing career."

“So I would have learned to speak French instead of using handcuffs.” It’s all reflective now, the past is just that– the past. But he needs you to know that he would have given everything up for you.

"I'm sorry." It's quieter this time, more ashamed, but you know you can't change what you did. "If I could take it back, I would."

“I don’t want you to be sorry.” Marcus rushes out, leaning in and pressing his forehead against yours. “Please don’t beat yourself up. I just–I’ve realized something that I knew but I couldn’t acknowledge until I saw you again.”

"You have?" If he can hear your heartbeat speed up, he doesn't show it. But you can't possibly believe that the blood pounding in your ears isn't loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah.” He flashes you a soft smile, opening his eyes and pulling back so he can look at you fully. “I never stopped loving you, sweetheart.” He confesses. “You’re it for me.”

For a second you swear your heart has stopped beating all together, until it feels like all the blood that was just pounding in your ears has rushed to your face to fill your cheeks and all the air leaves your lungs all at once in a sound like a strangled, disbelieving gasp. The tears are next - hot, grateful, ecstatic, and still disbelieving. But in the last milliseconds of that second where you seem to react to everything all at once, you’re pressing into his space to kiss him over and over and over again. Ten thousand tiny little kisses that bleed into one long one as you cling to him and desperately try to stop shaking in his arms because you can’t believe you could ever be so lucky as to have another chance with him. “I love you.” The words have been stuck in your throat for god only knows how long but they tumble out now, against his lips. “I love you so much, Marcus. I swear I’ll make it all right this time if you let me.”

Marcus sighs in relief, in disbelief and hope, his arms becoming steel bands around you as he happily takes the kisses and refuses to let your mouth pull back more than a fraction of an inch. You love him. That cycles through his mind on a loop and he wonders how the hell it took twelve years to get back to this moment.

It takes longer than you’re proud of to recompose yourself, but when you do it’s like the heavy weight that you’ve been carrying on your shoulders for years is finally starting to dissipate. “I know it’s not as easy as a magical fix,” you tell him, words still muffled by his skin as he keeps you close. “But we’re not kids anymore. I think if we try, we can do it.”

"I think we should take it slow." Marcus admits, rolling his eyes at himself since within forty-eight hours of seeing you again, he's back in bed with you. "Slow for us, I guess." He huffs, conceding that it's better than the first time you met. You had slept together that very first night and that had just been it. There hadn't been anyone else for him until well after you had driven off into the sunset, your wedding band laying on the kitchen counter with your house key.

“What’s that?” You joke, unable to resist even though you’re already nodding in agreement. “I’m not saying let’s go get remarried tomorrow. Or even at all, if you don’t want to. I just…” Sighing in his arms again feels like a gift. “Slow is good. We just have to stick to it.”

"You still have my last name." He's slightly smug about that. Every time he's almost typed your name into the FBI database, it's been with your maiden name. He had incorrectly assumed that you would go back to it after you got settled. You had even petitioned in the divorce to change your name.

“Yeah…” It’s not like you can deny it. It’s a fact, right there on paper. “I decided that even though I wasn’t running around broadcasting being divorced, I wasn’t going to pretend like it didn’t happen.”

"I like that." He admits, nose brushing against your cheek as he leaves another kiss against your skin. "Always liked you having my last name." He had been so fucking proud when you had changed your school ID, your license and social security number to Pike. It might be slightly caveman-ish, but he was human after all.

"So I guess..." You crack a grin, fingers brushing along his jaw and feeling light for the first time in ages. "Do you want to go out on a real date tomorrow? Something a little more intentional than us randomly ending up in the same bar for dinner?"

“I think we should.” Marcus agrees with a grin of his own. “We’ve changed a lot over the past decade and I–I want to make sure that it’s not nostalgia for either of us.”

"That's fair." Leaning forward lets you leave a kiss on his nose and you grin. "Maybe we can do something that we've never done before?"

“Hmmmm do you have something in mind?” The idea of even leaving this bed isn’t one that Marcus wants but he knows he can’t just stay in bed with you.

"I'm sure we can come up with something." The only thought in your mind right now is him and it's clouding everything else, but you would be lying if you said that you minded too much. The fact that he's here with you and wants to stay is still overwhelming in the best way.

Marcus shoots you a grin and then chuckles. “Jesus, I cannot believe that we are here right now.” He sighs, leaning back and closing his eyes as his hand drifts up and down your back.

"It's a little surreal, right?" Lying back in his arms is fully surreal, not just a little, but you wouldn't trade it for the world. "I'm still waiting for somebody to come bang on the door and yell at us for fucking too loud."

He snorts, his chest jostling you slightly. “Let them.” He grins and slides his hand down to your ass. “I’ll just make sure you’re louder the next time.”

"I fully believe you will." It wouldn't be the first time he'd taken a comment as a challenge, although he'd been nineteen then and much more competitive.

Marcus sighs softly, his hand sliding back up and he pulls you closer, smiling at you. “Hi.” He hums goofily.

"Hi," you hum right back, placing kisses on his nose and lips as you grin at him.

“Have to admit, this is not where I saw my Friday night going.” Marcus jokes. “I imagined drowning myself in too many whiskeys and wallowing in the fact that you still look so fucking good.”

"I felt like I was going to die when you walked into my office." Now, with him beside you and things looking so much brighter than they did even a few hours ago, you can laugh about it. "Of all the different ways I ever dreamt of seeing you again, dating one of my team members was not on the list."

“God.” His own awkward laugh answers yours and he swipes his free hand down his face. “All I could think about was the fact that I had seen both of you naked. And honestly? Wonder how the hell she didn’t make the connection in last names before. It’s not like Pike is common.”

"It's not that uncommon, though." You shrug slightly but still laugh. "Maybe her hometown has four different Pike families? Who knows."

“And was it just me, or did you want to melt like the Wicked Witch when she asked if we were siblings?” Marcus asks, rolling his eyes in pure embarrassment.

"I'm going to want to melt on Sunday when I tell her we're seeing each other again." It might end up being an incredibly uncomfortable conversation, but you would rather have it outside of work, and Sunday brunch trivia is the next time you'll see Silvia.

“You can wait if you want.” Marcus offers, not wanting to put you into an awkward position with your friend and employee. “If it makes it easier for you.”

"I feel like it could get complicated if I wait," you admit. "It would seem like we're hiding it from her, and I don't–I don't want to hide this at all. I'm proud that you would even consider giving me a second chance."

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asks you softly, “I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life since I was nineteen.”

Not wanting to cry again - even happy tears - you tuck yourself in even closer to his side and exhale deeply. "I knew we said slow, but I want you to know that that's where my mind is, Marc. The rest of our lives. Just like we always said."

He gets emotional himself, closing his eyes for a moment so he can compose himself and not bawl like a baby. Although his hold on you turns ironclad for a moment before he relaxes it. “I-I like the sound of that.” He manages after he’s opened his eyes again.

"There's plenty to talk about. Things to work through. But..." You blow out a sigh and manage an honest smile in the light of the moon. "But I have literally dreamed of having a chance to make things right with you more times than I can count."

“We don’t have to work out all the details tonight.” He kisses your forehead and smiles at the irony. He would have wanted to plan everything out years ago. “I just want to be with you.”

"We should try to get some sleep." Now that things are a little more secure, the fear of waking up and finding him gone has completely left your mind. Replaced by wanting to spend the weekend together and start to rekindle the relationship that you've been missing for over a decade.

“We should, but–” He shuffles slightly and gently moves out from under you. “I’m going to go get us some water.” He tells you, not wanting you to think he’s changing his mind. “That way we don’t have to worry about getting it in the middle of the night.”

"There's glasses in the cabinet next to the refrigerator." Your kitchen cabinets might be the only thing in the entire apartment that stay consistently organized, and the idea of Marcus puttering around your space freely makes you smile broadly all over again.

Marcus smirks and there is a slight leer to his gaze as he rakes it over your body. “Go pee, sweetheart. I know you have to.” He orders before he walks out of the room, still naked and comfortable with it.

Five minutes later you're both crawling back in bed, glasses of water sitting ready on your nightstand after both taking a few painkillers to preempt any small hangover you might have in the morning. After all, you did have a bit to drink even if neither of you was actually drunk. You settle into his side again and sigh as you both wrap your arms around each other, ready to drift off to sleep. It's more than comfortable. It's like coming home.

“I love you.” He murmurs into your hair, kissing your head and closing his eyes. If this is a dream, a drunken fantasy, then he doesn’t want to wake up.

"I love you, too." It's gentle, and almost ethereal, and all you can do is trust that it's real, because you're drifting off quickly in the comfort of his arms.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear

tCIGtDYE: @missmarmaladeth @afro-hispwriter @rosmarinus @mythrielofsolitude @jxvipike @avaleineandafryingpan @hnt-escape @supernaturalgirl20 @scorpio-marionette @bobafvcker @midnightevermore @dinoflower @pearl-aqua-tears @itsbaehyungbitch @pepperminticedcoffee @anticipayosbot @girlofchaos @speedynana @loveslide @noisynaia @just-here-for-the-moment @goodgriefitsawildworld @curiouskeyboard @iarellanouus @mymistery09-blog @seasonschange-butpeopledont @thenightdreamsballad @pondsofravenclaw @sherlock221b114679797 @pimmyxyone @theredwritingwitch @ghostinhours @timpletance @strawberryjamcheesecake @amb11 @a-little-shade-of-kiki @wildemaven @tuquoquebrute @supernaturalgirl @ellenmunn @iceclaw101 @toxicfrankenstein @catsandgeekyandnerd @missmarmaladeth @theincredibleinkspitter @agiroflee98 @lyonessofnarnia @we-could-have-been @totostits @scorpio-marionette @kikis-writing-world @trappistmonksofthefuture @danichz @88dragon06 @scorpionerd myrealmofchaos @movievillainess721 @firekissed13 @qseomik @acollectionofcells1 @captain-of-my-game1992 @alician87 @lovesbiggerthanpride @justgonewild @hiyorinatsuki @pinkrosethorne @apocalypticwafflekitten @groovycass @rebel-fanfare @d0cthunder @gooddaykate @purplerain04 @astridflowers @purplerain04 @frasmotic

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x female reader #Agent Marcus Pike #ex wife reader #The Mentalist #Mentalist fanfic #Sunshine Frat Boy of Kappa Sigma #rekindled love

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thirtyratsinasuit · 26 days

Text

here’s my guidelines for asks and stuff btw;

NSFW or SFW, idrm. plus I’m down bad soooo

probably mostly going to do fem!readers, i suck at writing male!reader fics but ill work on it (gn is fine!!)

The fandoms/characters I’ll write for;

Criminal Minds — Spencer Reid

Literally ANY Rory Culkin character

The Band Ghost

Fandoms/characters I will NOT write for;

Creepypasta/Slender Man Mythos (specifically because I was a victim of ad*m r*sner, and everyone I’ve met in the community is horrible except for like three people)

Anything to do with the bands mayhem and burzum, I’m related to someone in one of those bands and it’s weird to see fanart/fanfiction of your cousin. (Lords of chaos doesn’t count. I’m not writing for any of them except for R!Euronymous)

I probably won’t write for Papa Nihil or Sister Imperator anytime soon, i just don’t like them.

I cannot believe I have to say this but i am NOT writing for LOLITA!!! I’ve gotten several anons asking about it. NO.

Any real people, really. (I might do fluff with people’s comfort characters, anything from cartoons to musicians bc everyone needs a smile on their face:>)

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 9 months

Note

okay. hear me out. Kappa belittling you while you cry and whimper over the size of his cock🙁🙁 mean dom kappa has my heart I swear

This is my meal. I call it 🌟guuuuuuurl diiinnnerrrrr🌟

Mating Season

Summary: In which Kappa is using you as his personal fleshlight 😗

Pairing: Kappa x fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Content Warnings: Nothing But Filth 18+!, Mean!Dom!Kappa Being A Menace, Doggy, Ovulation Hornyness, So Much Cum, Straight Up Breeding (It's Not Just A Kink Anymore, Y'all 🥴), Resulting In Possible Impreg, Refractory Period? We Don't Know Her Around Here, Overstimulation (Reader Is Completely Gone At This Point), Very Primal, Petnames, Manhandling, Spanking (That's Prolly The Most Normal Thing In This Fic)

A/N: We all know ovulation hornyness is actually diabolical 👀

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @roryculkinsbf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @b4sementgrl @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess

Come play my game, I'll test ya

Psychosomatic, addict, insane

Come play my game

Inhale, inhale, you're the victim

Come play my game

Exhale, exhale, exhale

- Breathe By The Prodigy (Remix)

You felt it slowly trickling down the inside of your thighs, the accumulated gooey amalgamation of ejaculate, sweat and the slick of your countless orgasms sticky against your skin. Single dollops of it practically flew through the air, splattering onto an already damp mattress and all over Kappas crotch repeatedly whilst he fucked into you from behind with relentlessl fervor.

Lewd, straight up filthy wet sounds echoed from the decrepit stone walls but not really cutting through to you anymore. You, with your head pressed against the sheets, your hair nothing but a mess all over and around your face, drool leaking from between your quivering lips, were a goner.

Not a single thought crossed your fogged mind, all that was left was to simply feel and that you did for sure.

With each heavy roll of Kappa's hips against your already spanked and bruised ass, you felt how the angry tip of his cock spearheaded into your sore cunt that was clearly overflowing with bodily fluids at this point. You felt how your walls clenched and tightened around him, how your body betrayed you like this and failing to realize that Kappa had been hammering himself into your abused pussy like that for hours now. For some wicked reason, your body still craved more, getting increasingly cockdrunk with every time you felt him stroking his girth over that especially sensitive spot of yours.

The point where your muscles couldn't take it anymore was long overstepped already, but you just froze in the position you were in, with your ass raised up high on trembling knees and your front pinned to the mattress, blacking out the pain in devout submission.

With your eyes closed, all senses turned inward, you only knew the pushing and shoving, thrusting and pulling back of his throbbing cock deep inside of you, making you see stars sparkling on the black of your eyelids. Time and place rendered into obscure concepts that didn't apply to you in any way right now.

"Hey, you still here?" Kappa barked out in a breathy, low laugh before the flat of his palm swung down onto the round of your behind.

The answer you gave to that was far from some carefully articulated word and but a meak whimper that snaked its way out of your mouth upon impact.

"There, there…I was worried about my sweet, little cum bunny for a moment." Just for good measure, he struck down on your ass again, successfully leaving a glowing red imprint of his hand next to countless others.

You felt the pain shooting through your weak body yet your worn out nerve endings couldn't be bothered to even do so much as flinch.

"Oh, you're so far gone, aren't you?", Kappa mocked, pushing himself into you again, splitting you open from the inside out, "Don't worry, babe, I'll make sure to finally fuck a baby into you. Fuck, you take my cock so good. Such an obedient slut."

The words reached your ears, your fucked out brain trying to comprehend in a fruitless attempt. The last thing you knew was essentially begging unto him to touch you, to fuck the hornyness, caused by your monthly cycle, out of you and to ease the throbbing need between your legs with his body. Kappa more than gladly took you up on that invitation.

"Yeah, I'm gonna get you pregnant, fucking finally. Do the very thing none of those Replicas could ever do and actually procreate.", He rambled on in his deranged train of thought, "Can't wait for your belly to grow and swell with the human life that I father right here."

It seemed as if he talked himself into a delusional spurt, picking up the pace in which his thighs slapped against the brutalized skin of your ass, not even fully pulling out anymore before shoving himself into you again.

It had the tiny rest of your still haphazardly functioning brain short circuiting as your weak fingers searched for support by digging into the sheets. It was to no avail, your tear-soaked cheek chaffed over the fabric with each thrust, most likely turning sore by the time he'd eventually be done with you here.

"Shit, fuck…", It seeped out of his mouth in a guttural groan, " 'M gonna cum again just by thinking about getting you knocked up, bunny."

Although your brain was nothing but a fucked out puddle by now, you recognised how his rhythm faltered like the plenty of times before, his pulsing cock turning rigid inside of you before a new, hot and tacky wave of his seed flooded your already full to the brim insides.

You sensed how his load pushed past your walls and exuded out of your sore cunt, smearing down the insides of your thighs just like the last and the one before that.

"Gosh, you're such a perfect, submissive breeding slut for me. Fucking love you and your pussy when you're so needy for me like that. Gonna make sure that I fuck all of my cum into you nice and deep.." With that, Kappa inhaled sharply before rolling his hips against your behind again, pulling a weak whimper from your lungs.

"Might as well just do that all night long."

#asks are appreciated #asks are always open #rory culkin #kappa #kappa black mirror #black mirror #black mirror: beyond the sea #kappa x you #kappa smut #kappa x fem!reader #kappa x reader

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444rockstargf · 2 months

Note

hihi!! kappa request!

this is gonna be a wild one! he’s a hard dom and likes kn!feplay, i want him to be mean and rough pleaseeeee. like if he was taking stuff out on us but can we get some aftercare too please???

your work gets me through the absolute most boring college days thank you for being here !!

omg that's so real. i write most of my fics during school.

"got a knife in my shirt." | kappa

peppers. - lana del rey

female!reader x kappa

word count: 984

contents: knife play (do not read if uncomfy!), blood, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, overstimulation

the look of intense fear in your eyes made kappa think for a moment that this was all too much for you. but this was the same girl who had orgasmed 16 times in one night and only passed out twice. so he knew that you could handle this.

he had you laying on your back on a cold bed, a ball gag in your mouth and your limbs tied up. it didn’t help that you were completely stripped too. your nipples had become erect from the draft that came in from the open window. it was almost as if you could feel the disapproved gazes from above, but that didnt matter to you right then.

kappa dragged his sharp blade along the lines of your collarbones, seeing your skin gleam with a tinge of red. you winced, inhaling sharply as he drew a thin line of blood. a grin tugged at his lips like he only gained more pleasure from seeing you in pain.

he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking the gag out of your mouth and kissing you with a deep hunger and desire that he longed to release. you squirmed underneath him, wanting to wrap your arms around him in an embrace but not being able to because of the circumstances he put you in.

he deepened the kiss, using his tongue to explore the depths of your mouth as he used the side of his blade to play with your throbbing cunt, drawing a few strings of wetness from your hole.

he pulled away abruptly, bringing his mouth to your ear as you panted through your swollen lips. “i bet you know what you’re in for tonight. i am going to make you feel pain like never before, but you can take it for me, right?” he phrased the question innocently as he stared daggers at you, daring you to say the wrong thing. you nodded frantically, an unearthly heat pooling in your core.

he forced your legs into the air, giving your ass a harsh slap as he watched you grind your clit on the knife. he pushed your legs apart as far as they would go without straining against the rope too much. then he brought himself down so that he was face to face with your pussy.

“look how wet you already are… you’re a nasty girl, arent you..?” he cooed mockingly, using his thumb to toy with the clit as he slipped his middle finger into you. you whimpered, watching as he dragged the knife down the back of your thigh, using the pleasure counterbalancing the pain he inflicted.

and that’s when you noticed the switch in his eyes. you knew that he had been being unusually sweet this entire time, but now he was going for it. he hungrily began sucking on your pussy, feasting on it like a predator that had been waiting before striking its prey. you screamed out, your moans bouncing off the walls as drops of blood flowed down your leg.

he went ahead and shoved four of his fingers into you, making you shiver from feeling so full but so deprived at the same time. his rhythm was perfect. you were trembling from the overwhelming feeling but wanted to bed him to never stop. he curled his fingers inside of you, pressing them against your bladder and making sure to hit your sweet spot with every thrust.

you felt your stomach churn everytime he drew a new pattern on your bleeding flesh with his knife, but you were helpless to stop it. he brought his mouth away from your dripping cunt, spitting on it before giving it a slap, making you jump.

he got on top of you, his gaze radiating malice and cruel intentions. you felt him whip out his cock, the rock-hard tip slapping against your puffy clit. you couldn’t help but whine, causing him to grip your jaw firmly, speaking darkly.

“i don’t wanna hear a single goddamn sound of your mouth, you hear?” he brought the knife to your throat, making you shiver. you knew he would never actually kill you, but he was a master at making your blood race with fear.

he lined up his cock with your gushy entrance, letting out a low groan as he pushed himself into your deep core. then he began pounding into you, not even giving you a second to adjust. as he slammed himself into your gummy walls, you felt tears rolling down your cheeks as you felt that familiar knot in your stomach.

this was only the first round but you were already losing it, clinging onto him as he rearranged your guts. “k-kappa..! i’m-” you couldn’t even get your words out before your found yourself cumming all over him, hot sticky liquid spilling out of your hole as you choked out a sob.

but he didn’t stop. in fact, you saw anger flicker through his eyes as wrapped his hand around your throat. “think you can cum without my permission, hm?” he thrusted into you slowly but much deeper than before, making your back arch. “i’m not gonna be done with you for a long time, so hold on tight.” your blood ran cold at that statement, but there was nothing you could do.

he went on for hours and hours, using you and tossing you around like a ragdoll until the sun began to rise. you were lying on your stomach, panting as your body shook from overstimulation. kappa wasn’t in the room right now, so you took that opportunity as a chance to regain your composure.

your hole was filled to the brim, still throbbing as it attempted to recover from the night you just had. then you heard his slow steps walking back into the room, stopping right by the bed as he crouched down beside you and stroked your cheek gently. he whispered softly, not wanting to startle you. “hey angel. i’ve got a nice, warm bath ready for you.”

you nodded slowly, sitting up with a struggle until he picked you up bridal style and took you to the bathroom himself. he set you into the soapy bath, using a soft sponge to clean some of the blood off you. then you met his eyes and saw a gentle smile on his face. he brought his lips to your forehead, planting a little kiss onto it as he spoke one last time.

“you’re all mine, angel. all mine.”

author's note: thank you all for 900 followers!

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #smut #rory culkin kappa #kappa x reader #kappa smut #kappa black mirror #kappa #black mirror #did you know that there’s a tunnel under ocean blvd #lana del rey

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hyunsvngs · 9 months

Text

𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 - lee minho x gn!afab reader

wc: 6.1k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: alcohol, normalisation of getting very wasted, smut (specific smut warnings under the cut, again minors please do not interact!)

synopsis: the best surprises come from the most unexpected sources - like having your crush corner you in a frat party after hearing you confess your deepest desires of him in the background of a video.

a/n: part one of the fratboy series. fratboy lee minho has now taken over my entire brain, my heart, and also my life, so i hope you all enjoy. PLEASE feel free to stop by our askbox to chat to me abt him because truly, i am obsessed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: swearing, dirty talk, sexy mean minho, no seriously he’s mean, thigh riding, nipple play, begging, dumbification, degradation, penetration with a finger & dick simultaneously, talks about sex slaves (maybe only slightly serious), lovely aftercare

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

When the opening notes of Half Moon by Dean met your ears, you couldn’t help but groan. You loved the song, but it signalled an incoming call that you’d been expecting all day. You flipped your phone over, confirming your suspicions; Jisung’s squishy cheeks flashed on your screen as his contact icon showed up.

“What do you want?” you asked as you answered the call, despite knowing very well what he wanted.

At the beginning of the semester, your best friends had joined a fraternity, Sigma Kappa Zeta. It was an absolute dream - on paper at least. You didn’t have to commit to the endless fraternity obligations, which are often ridiculous and sometimes downright dangerous; although you still had regular invites to the blowout parties, owing to your connections to Felix and Jisung. You’d attended a few of these parties and enjoyed them thoroughly. Being pretty meant you got free booze, and what could be better than getting wasted for free, with two of your favourite people? While ogling their endless hoard of stupidly attractive friends, of course.

Your taste in men could be summarised as… unfortunate. You had an affinity for frat boys, the bigger and stupider the better. Muscular guys, with stupid goofy grins and sleeveless tees, bulging biceps and empty heads. Something about them really got you going, and it frustrated you to no end. But you loved to indulge yourself, and Felix and Jisung knew this all too well. And so, they were left baffled when you very quickly stopped attending these parties. Baffled, disappointed, and worst of all, persistent.

“Hey, angel,” Felix’s voice rang out from your speaker.

“You aren’t Jisung,” you stated.

“Very observant,” he responded, leading you to roll your eyes. You didn't even bother to question why he was calling you from Jisung’s phone. “Anyways, I assume you’ll be in attendance tonight?”

You snorted. “Obviously not.”

“Y/N!” Felix’s deep voice gave way to a drawn-out whine. “Why not?”

“Cause I don’t want to spend time in your disgusting frat house,” you huffed.

“Not even for me?” he pleaded with you.

“This isn’t working. You can’t guilt-trip me when I can’t actually see your stupid adorable face,” you pointed out.

“Fine, I’ll turn my camera on-”

“No. Look, why don’t you and Ji come drink with me in my dorm? Like the good ol’ days?” you suggested. Good ol’ days referring to a few months ago, before they’d joined the fraternity.

Felix paused for a few moments. “Fine. Maybe. Only because we miss you!”

“Come over then. See you soon!” You hung up before he could argue any more - you all knew you’d won.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Just moments after Jisung and Felix showed up at your door, you began to consider the possibility that maybe you didn’t win after all.

“Y/N!” Jisung cried, before proceeding to push past you and collapse onto your bed. “Why do you never hang out with us any more?!”

You turned to Felix. “What have you brought to my doorstep?”

Felix shrugged. “He chugged like, three beers before we even left.”

"I guess we'd better catch up then."

It wasn't long before you were all feeling merry, though it would be amiss to say you'd caught up with Jisung, given that he often seemed intoxicated even when he was sober.

"I miss you guys, too!" you insisted, hushing the boys' griping. And you really did miss them. Since classes had ended, and people had limited obligations, the frat seemed like a 24/7 party house at the moment, which meant you hardly ever saw them. "I just… these frat parties, it's not really my scene."

The look Felix sent you told you that he didn't buy it, not one bit. The look Jisung sent you, on the other hand, told you that he was currently so drunk that he had a very tenuous grasp on reality, and was just happy to be involved.

"I've seen you eye up at least three guys at the frat. Not your scene? Nothing has ever been more your scene," Felix said, his tone accusatory. "I know it's nothing to do with us. So spill. Why are you avoiding the frat?"

Jisung had wandered off to the other side of your room, where he seemed to be making a concoction of different beverages. He didn't seem to be making a mess, so you thought it best to leave him while he was quiet.

You huffed. "Fine. One of your stupid little frat bro's is driving me insane. But I won't say who!" you added hastily.

Felix's eyes glinted. "Driving you insane? In what way? Like, someone's pissed you off? Or they're making you insanely horny and you don't know how to handle it."

You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "You know me too well, Lix."

Felix laughed gleefully. "Changbin?"

"Don't start guessing! I'm not gonna tell you!"

"Chan?"

"No!"

Felix paused, thinking hard. "It's Minho."

"It’s not Minho!"

He cackled. "You're an open book, it's Minho! You're horny for Minho!"

You let out a weak whimper in protest. "I just… God, nobody's ever affected me like this before, Lix! I don't even wanna be around him 'cause I know I'll say something stupid. Or maybe just start drooling on him."

Felix shrugged. "I guess I can't blame you. He is a gorgeous guy."

"Understatement of the century," you scoffed. "If I had to choose between solving world hunger and sucking his dick, I'd choose his dick. A thousand times."

Felix, in that beautiful drunken phase where everything was utterly hilarious, was clutching his stomach, in complete stitches on your floor.

"I'm not even joking, Lix! I'd devote the rest of my life to being his sex slave. He wouldn't even need to feed me, I'll survive off his cum if I have to!"

Felix wiped a tear from his eye. "Stop, stop. You're killing me." He turned to Jisung, who was still apparently playing potions with various different drinks.

"And that," Jisung said to no one in particular, "Is how you make a Hanji Supreme."

"What the fuck are you doing, Ji? Are you vlogging over there? Get your ass over here and listen to what Y/N has to say about Lee Minho."

"Okay, bye!" Jisung said, still seemingly speaking to thin air. He turned to you, eyebrows raised. "Minho? Y/N has the hots for Minho?"

"Unfortunately," you confirmed.

"We could probably set you up with him," Jisung proposed, a dastardly grin on his face.

"No," you quickly denied. "Never. Under no circumstances do you ever mention my name in Minho's presence. Got it?"

Jisung pouted. "But then your dreams are never gonna come true!"

You chewed on your lip. "I feel like a stuttering mess whenever I even think about him. I can't imagine what'd happen if I actually spoke to him."

"Wait, you've never spoken to him?" Felix clarified, and you shook your head. He smirked. "You were saying some pretty vulgar stuff, considering he's practically a stranger."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm a creep and a perv. That's why he can never find out about this. Seriously," you said sternly, directing this last part at Jisung. He wasn't exactly known for keeping secrets.

Felix looked him up and down. "I don't think he's even going to remember this tomorrow, if I'm being honest."

"Yeah," you agreed. "He seems like he's done for the night." The boy was lying flat on his back, the brim of his beanie pulled over his eyes. His phone was buzzing away on his chest, notification tone pinging every few seconds.

Felix sighed. "I just hope he doesn't get one of those second winds."

“Jisung, honey, is someone trying to get hold of you?” you asked, the chiming of his phone growing irritating. You figured he’d texted one of his many booty calls and then instantly forgotten about it.

“Huh?” he asked, clearly not really listening.

Felix’s phone began to buzz on the floor. “Someone’s trying to get hold of me.” He brought the phone to his ear. "Hey, what’s up? He's - he's what?" Felix covered his other ear. "It's really loud over there, did you say he's on the table? Christ - okay, okay, we'll be right over."

"What was that?" you asked. "Is everything okay?"

Felix sighed. "Hyunjin's partying a little too hard. Seungmin can't deal with him alone. C'mon, we gotta go wrangle him."

"We just went over this - I'm not stepping foot in Minho's territory, not even for a second," you said adamantly.

"Relax, he's partying with Theta Chi Theta tonight," Jisung slurred happily, sitting upright and fixing his beanie. "C'mon, Y/N, come party with us!"

Felix looked to you pleadingly. "I can't deal with drunk Jisung and drunk Hyunjin without you. Please."

Fuck. Felix knew you could never say no to his puppy-dog eyes.

"Fine."

Even with the knowledge that Minho was preoccupied somewhere else, you still felt a little wary as you stepped into the house. It did occur to you that you could be a little too terrified of this man, but you knew all too well that both your horniness and your stupidity were utterly limitless, which was always a recipe for disaster.

You heard Hyunjin before you saw him - "Why can't I get naked, though? It's so hot in here!"

You snickered. He was still on the table, although he looked a little wobbly so you doubted it'd be too long until he came tumbling down. Jisung wandered off, probably up to no good, whilst you and Felix hurried over.

Seungmin breathed a visible sigh of relief when he saw you. "So glad you're here. Okay, I'm off duty. Good luck." He had vanished within seconds.

Hyunjin waved excitedly when he caught sight of you both. "Hi Lix! Hi Lix's pretty friend!"

You laughed at his drunken boldness. "It's Y/N," you corrected him.

"I know." He grinned down at you from the table, eyes disappearing into crescents. "You're brave, too," he crooned.

"Brave?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"If I was you, I probably wouldn't show my face around here until the end of the semester, at least," he went on.

Felix narrowed his eyes at the boy. "What are you talking about?"

Hyunjin stared at Felix for a moment. Then switched his gaze to you. Then back to Felix. Before erupting into a fit of giggles.

"Oh my god, please sit down before you fall and crack your damn skull," Felix pleaded with the boy.

"Yeah, and more importantly, explain yourself," you added.

Hyunjin sat obediently, pulling out his phone and handing it to Felix.

"Oh fuck," Felix breathed. "I have the group chat muted right now."

"The group chat?" you enquired anxiously. "Please tell me what's going on." Your paranoia was getting the best of you, and while you stood waiting for someone to fucking explain, you were slowly convincing yourself that you'd stolen Felix's phone and confessed your attraction to Minho in the most crass and unrefined terms.

This wasn't too far from the truth.

Felix opened up a video, skipping towards the end. You noticed Jisung, sitting cross-legged on the floor of your dorm room, chattering away about various beverages. More prominently, however, you heard your own voice, from the other side of the room.

“I’ll survive off his cum if I have to!”

Your heart plummets to the ground as the memory comes rushing back. Fuck.

You grab Felix’s arm, holding on for dear life. “Tell me this isn’t happening. Tell me Jisung only sent that to Hyunjin and no one else.”

Felix handed the phone back to Hyunjin and placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you. “Look, it’s going to be okay. People say stupid shit like this all the time-”

“Oh look, Minho’s read the messages!” Hyunjin calls out.

You put a hand over your mouth. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“He’s typing!”

“No!” you wailed.

Hyunjin turned his phone around once more. You peered at the screen in turmoil as three dastardly little letters popped up.

lol

"Oh, Y/N, you're so lucky he's not here tonight," Felix said, sounding relieved. Distantly, you felt a shred of relief too, although that was nothing compared to the complete and utter dread you were experiencing. Oh, the consequences of your own drunken, horny actions. Was there anything worse?

"Oh," Felix murmured, pulling his buzzing phone out of his pocket. "Oh."

"What?" you asked.

"He's calling me."

You called out "Don't answer it!" just as Hyunjin yelled "Answer it!"

Felix accepted the call, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Oh my god, I'm scared. Hold my hand." You scrambled for Hyunjin, who grasped your hand in his before giggling.

"Your hands are soft," he commented, apparently having forgotten the Minho debacle already. You swiftly hushed him.

Felix also raised a finger to his lips in a shh motion, before putting the call on speakerphone.

"Are you at the house? Is Y/N with you?" Minho’s voice came through the speaker.

Felix paused, looking at you with wide eyes. You shook your head furiously.

"Uh, yeah," he answered, the traitor. You fought hard not to scream.

"Can you pass a message across?" you heard Minho ask.

"Sure."

"I'm on my way." The line clicked dead.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. “LEE FELIX WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TELL HIM I'M HERE?"

"I DON'T KNOW, I PANICKED!" he shrieked back, sounding equally as alarmed as you.

“This is crazy,” Hyunjin commented with a dazed grin.

“You are far too drunk to understand the absolute catastrophe I’m in right now!” you accused him. “Oh my god, what am I gonna do? I need to go - immediately.”

“Not so fast.”

You spun around in complete and utter horror, terrified that Minho had somehow materialised from his other party right back to the frat. Only to find Seungmin standing before you - just slightly less threatening.

“Jisung is far too drunk, and he’s begging for you,” he explained.

“God, what is in the air tonight?” you observed. “Do you guys need to do a fraternity-wide detox?”

Seungmin snorted. “Like that’s ever gonna happen. Go on, Jisung’s in his room.”

God fucking damn it, why were you such a good friend? You tore up the stairs, bee-lining for Jisung’s room, fully intending on hiding in his bedroom for the rest of the night. Minho wouldn’t find you in there if you locked the door, right? You were even willing to put up with your best friend’s snoring.

"Hey, Sungie," you said gently as you walked into his room. You found him curled on his bed, still dressed in his hoodie, cargos and beanie.

"Y/N… You're finally here…" he mumbled.

"You sound sleepy. Is it bedtime?" you asked, sitting down on the bed beside him. You tugged the beanie off his head, and ran your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp gently.

"Bedtime? Hmm… No… It's still party time for now." His words were slurred, and you knew he was just minutes from dozing off - seconds, maybe.

"Sure," you said, as it was typically better to just agree with him. "You wanna get your pyjamas on? We can have a pyjama party."

"No. I'm comfy like this." You seriously doubted it, but didn't have it in you to battle him right now.

Sure enough, he was snoring less than thirty seconds later. You wondered if it was worth shoving him a bit, to climb in bed beside him, or whether it'd be best to just run home. But you didn't know how far away Minho was, and the thought of bumping into him was too much to bear.

You deliberated for a few moments, but Jisung's snoring was driving you insane, and you quickly realised that you weren't equipped to deal with it tonight.

You pulled out your phone, opening Felix's contact.

[10:44pm] You: lixie do u have minho's location?

[10:44pm] You: lix please please please

[10:44pm] You: felix pls i need to know how far he is

You sat on the edge of Jisung's bed, leg bouncing with nerves. Why was Felix always muting his damn notifications?

[10:48pm] Lix: idk sorry :( i think his party was nearby though

[10:48pm] Lix: look, just run to my room

[10:49pm] Lix: you'll be safe there

You weighed up your options.

Option one: stay here with Jisung, awake all night owing to his snoring and his complete domineering of 90% of the bed space, stressing about Lee fucking Minho.

Option two: run out of the frat house, and all the way home to safety, but risk bumping into Minho on your way out.

Option three: run down the hall to Felix's room, where you can vent to him all night and then eventually fall asleep with his sunshine cuddles.

It could only be option three.

His room was just down the hall, you reasoned. You would yank open the door, tear down the hallway, and land safely in Felix's bedroom. It would be easy.

You took a deep breath, before pulling open the door and preparing to run.

“Ah. Look who it is.”

Shit.

Minho stood in the hall with an unreadable expression. His eyes scanned your whole frame, and he took his time with his scalding gaze. His eyes crawled all the way up your legs, lingering up your thighs. Slowly moving from your hips, to your waist, to your chest. Before landing on your eyes - that’s where his inspection burned the most. You couldn’t even breathe.

“All bark and no bite, hm?”

“I… I just…” you stammered weakly.

He continued to stare at you, waiting for you to finish. “You just?”

“I’m sorry!” you managed, your voice barely above a squeak.

He folded his arms across his chest, looking amused. “What, pray tell, are you sorry for? For blabbing about my dick to anyone who’ll listen? Manners mean everything, sweetheart, you could’ve just asked me nicely. There was no reason to bring everyone into our business, now, was there?”

You simply blinked at him. You weren’t capable of anything more. He was clearly waiting for a response, though, smirking over at you expectantly. “W-What?” you managed eventually.

“Or are you apologising for your dirty mouth? Honestly, I didn’t expect that from you. You look so sweet, who knew you could be so… improper.”

You felt dizzy. “Improper?”

He pouted at you, and it was dripping with condescension. “Can you speak, darling? Or are you so cock-hungry you can’t manage more than a one-word answer?”

“I-I just don’t know what to say, is all,” you whispered.

“Just give me a yes or a no,” he invited you, holding his hand out for you to take.

You gave him a slow nod, placing your hand in his shakily. He smiled as if to say ‘right answer,’ before opening the door right next to Jisung's, and leading you into his bedroom. The room was remarkably neat and tidy, and you would’ve been impressed if you could even begin to process it. All of your mental energy was focused on not combusting - or coming on the spot.

He allowed you to step into the room before closing the door behind you. You were then quickly pushed up against it, Minho pinning you against the wood with his hips. Had that squeal really just come from your mouth?

His eyes were transfixed on your lips. You waited, heart hammering in your chest, while he had you trapped there. Until this point, you really hadn't been sure whether he was angry at you for saying such explicit things about him. The look in his eyes revealed everything - he wanted you just as badly.

He leaned in slowly. Torturously slowly - evidently, he was going to take his time with you. His lips met yours in a gentle peck, which he repeated, again and again. You sighed against his lips, gripping the fabric of his t-shirt and pulling him closer, but he merely smirked against your pout.

"Please," you breathed.

"You're so desperate," he said with a low laugh. "I could give you what you want, Y/N, but I know you wouldn't be able to handle it."

"I can take it," you protested, your voice sounding much whinier than you wanted it to.

"You can?" he asked, cocking his head and looking down at you condescendingly. You nodded insistently. "Okay."

Minho picked up the pace. His lips were soft but they bit at yours harshly. His tongue entered your mouth and you savoured his taste, sucking on his tongue gently.

Your hands went to the button of his jeans, swiftly unbuttoning it. Minho pulled away, stepping back and leaving you pouting once more. He laughed, that awful patronising sound yet again, that made your palms sweat and your thighs sticky.

"What, you think you're gonna get my dick that easily?" he asked, cocking his head at you. "No, honey."

"Please?" you asked. It sounded pitiful, even to you.

You watched as he went to his neatly made bed, tugging off jeans and laying back. "Come here," he instructed, lounging back against the wall. "Take your clothes off for me."

"T-Take my clothes off?" you asked meekly. It sounded pitiful even to your ears.

The look he gave you was scathing, although he did seem rather amused by the pathetic show of stupid desperation you were unfortunately displaying. "Well you can't expect to stay fully clothed if I'm gonna fuck you, right?"

You nodded, standing in front of him and looking down at your feet. "I… I feel shy all of a sudden."

"You feel shy? I don't know if you'd make such a good sex slave after all." He laughed before growing serious. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'll look after you, if we do, but the choice is yours."

His kinder tone set you at ease, and made you realise that you really wanted this, you were ready for this. It also brought about the realisation that you much preferred it when he was mean. You didn't want to dwell on what that meant, though.

You gathered your courage and slowly pulled your clothes off, standing before him in nothing but your underwear. Minho said nothing, but you felt as though you were on fire under his gaze.

He wasn't the only one who was enjoying the view. Your eyes traversed his toned thighs, mouth watering as you thought about how it'd feel if he were to press one between your legs. He wore plain white briefs, and you couldn't help but stare at the prominent bulge inside them. Even semi-hard it looked huge. You noticed it twitch ever so slightly, as he looked over your exposed body.

Minho spread his legs slightly, before tapping his left thigh. "Come on, darling. I know what you want."

Was he a mind reader? You wasted no time, climbing onto the bed, straddling his thigh and beginning to slowly grind. He tensed it, so firm and strong beneath you. The perfect platform for you to drag your clit across.

Minho's hands went to your waist, holding you gently, guiding you as you rolled your hips.

"That's it, baby, there you go," he encouraged you. The friction was enough to make you sweat, the pleasure overwhelming you. He was right - maybe you couldn't handle this. You couldn't even imagine how overwhelming it would be to actually feel his hands on you, feel his dick inside you.

His dick.

You could see it growing harder in his briefs, a small damp circle near the head where precum had leaked. You couldn't resist the temptation any longer; your hand reached out almost involuntarily, cupping his bulge gently. It was firm, and warm, and growing bigger seemingly by the second.

Minho took your hand, instantly re-directing it. "No, no, don't touch. Not until I say you can."

"But I can see how hard you're getting," you said. "You want it, Minho!"

"Unlike you, I know how to restrain myself." He patted your waist gently. "Keep riding."

You gave a frustrated huff, but did as he said.

Minho brought a slender finger down to your crotch, hooking it around the fabric of your underwear and moving it out of the way. "Let me see that pretty pussy," he murmured.

The new exposure made you moan aloud, hands gripping Minho's shoulders firmly as you rode him.

"Please," you whispered. "Please, Minho."

"Please, what? Use your words."

"Please fuck me," you asked.

He pretended to consider it for a moment. "Hmm… No. Not yet."

You groaned. "I need it, though!"

Minho snickered. "Don't be such a brat. I want to take my time with you, okay?"

"You can take your time next time! Just - please - fuck, please, I need it."

He raised an eyebrow with you. "Oh, so there's gonna be a next time, is there?"

You ignored his quip. If you couldn't get in his pants just yet, you'd focus your attention elsewhere. You lifted his shirt slowly, revealing his stomach, where you found lightly toned abs that only made you more desperate to feel him. Miraculously, he humoured you, pulling his shirt over his head.

You gasped, running your hands down his chest. He was beautiful, tight pecs and perfect little nipples that stood to attention in the open air of his bedroom. You ghosted a finger over one of them, entranced.

"I thought that'd shut you up," Minho commented under his breath.

"Beautiful tits," you muttered unintentionally as you admired his pecs.

Minho smiled. "I could say the same thing about you, angel." He placed a hand on your back, pulling you closer and bringing one of your nipples into his mouth. He wasn't gentle about it, sucking and biting without holding back. You cried out, your hips pausing their grinding motions, your system completely overloaded by his harsh actions on your sensitive nipple.

"Keep riding," he mumbled, not even taking your nipple out of his mouth as he spoke.

You dragged your clit across his muscular thigh, whimpering loudly as you went. "Oh god, please, Minho! I need you inside me."

"Then beg for it."

You wasted no time. "Please, Minho, please, please! I need your cock, I've never needed anything this bad. I know I'm just a filthy little slut but please give me what I need, fuck, I'll die if you don't!"

"You really are a filthy slut," he agreed, lifting you from his thigh and laying you on his bed.

"Yes, yes, please Minho!" you babbled.

He pulled your underwear down, leaving you completely naked before him, before tugging his own briefs off.

Holy fucking shit, you thought.

His dick was beautiful. That was the only way to describe it - fucking beautiful. It was long, with a vein running along the underside, and the girth was decent too. The head was thick, and red, and if you weren't so desperate to be fucked you would've sucked on it for hours.

"I know you want it," Minho said. "But do you deserve it?" He stroked his dick slowly, and you watched as the head disappeared into his fist, emerging again as his hand ran along his shaft.

"I don't know, but I need it," you insisted. "I'll do anything."

Minho shook his head, but he looked smug. "Alright, baby. If you need it that badly."

"Yes, yes, yes," you chattered, intoxicated by a dick that you hadn't even felt yet.

He pushed your knees up to your chest, and you hooked your arms around them, holding them in position and peering down to watch his motions. "Such a perfect pussy." He rubbed the head of his dick across your clit, and you whined loudly. Distantly, you wondered if the sounds of the frat party below would even be enough to drown out your incessant noises of pleasure. It was irrelevant, though; you didn't care enough to stop.

He dragged his dick through your folds, over your hole, back up to your clit. Minutes ago, you would've killed a man to have Minho touch your pussy, but already you wanted more. He made you so greedy. It felt good but your thirst for more was unbearable, intolerable.

"Alright, baby, are you ready?"

"Yes!" you cried out.

Slowly, he sunk the tip of his dick inside you - just the tip. Thick as it was, it slid in with hardly any protest. He sighed as it went in, clearly needing the sensation more than he let on.

"More," you pleaded.

"You'll take what I give you, when I'm ready to give you it." Minho saw you roll your eyes at this, but said nothing.

He pushed the head in and out of your hole, never putting more than two inches inside.

"Please give me the whole thing, Minho!"

He simply shook his head. "You wouldn't be able to handle it. Dumb baby."

"I can handle it!" you insisted. "I swear I can!"

He looked at you, raising an eyebrow that told you he was unconvinced. "You can?" You nodded. "You're gonna cry like a little baby."

"Just give me your stupid dick right now!"

Minho laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, baby. Here comes my stupid dick."

He held your legs down against your chest, and slammed his whole length inside you. You saw stars. He thrusted, hard and fast, and you were somewhat aware that you were moaning probably louder than you ever had before, but all you could truly focus on was his cock filling you up. He was hitting your g-spot on every single thrust, grunting as he fucked you.

"God, you're tight," he groaned. He re-positioned his hips, and somehow managed to hit deeper. You felt him against your cervix, and cried out in pain.

"Too much," you weakly protested as your eyes filled with tears.

"I thought you could handle it?" he said, his voice lacking any sympathy. "Fucking pathetic, begging for a cock you couldn't even take."

"I-I can, just not so deep."

Minho smirked down at you. "It's not my fault my dick's so big," he said, but adjusted his thrusts slightly anyway.

"I can take it," you promised. "I-I can take anything you give me, Minho."

"That's right, baby. My filthy little whore." His voice was calm, but his eyebrows were furrowed and sweat was dripping down his forehead - the pleasure was overwhelming him just as much as it was destroying you.

Minho leaned down, connecting his mouth to yours as he fucked you. You sighed happily, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking his tongue into your mouth. You couldn't help but moan. His dick fucking your pussy, his tongue fucking your mouth. This was heaven, you were sure of it.

He pulled away. "You think you could take some more?"

"More?" you asked, eyes wide.

"Just a little more. For me?"

You nodded hesitantly.

Minho paused his thrusts, but before you could whine in protest, you felt his finger rubbing at your opening. Slowly, he pushed his index finger inside, along with his dick. The painful stretch was incredible, and you whimpered at the feeling.

"There you go, babe," he said, beginning to thrust once more. He closed his eyes, losing himself to the sensation. "Fuck, this is nice and tight."

You were barely even lucid at this point. You babbled incoherently, unaware of what you were even trying to say. You were completely and utterly spellbound by his dick, by the sweet burning stretch.

"Touch yourself for me, baby," Minho directed you.

"F-Fuck- I don't know if I can-"

"I thought you wanted to be my sex slave, hm? Pretty little slaves do as they're told."

You whined, but obeyed his command. "M-Minho… I'm gonna cum if I keep going."

Minho barked out a laugh. "Cum then. I don't care. But don't take your fingers off that pussy, not even for a second."

You were beginning to think that maybe you weren't cut out for this. You hadn't even reached your climax yet, and already the overstimulation was too much. Your stretched out pussy was throbbing, and you jolted each time Minho's dick pounded your g-spot. You were drenched, covered in your own sweat as well as Minho's, which was dripping onto you from his hair, his forehead, his neck. The air in the room was thick, and smelled entirely of Minho - you were covered in him. He looked like a god above you, fucking into you like it was his life's mission.

It was too much for you to handle, without a doubt. And yet, you'd be happy to spend the rest of your life underneath him. Or on top of him. Or in any position which meant his dick could be inside you.

"Minho… Minho!" you whimpered.

"C'mon, baby," he encouraged you, his voice strained. From the sounds of it, he wasn't far from finishing either - although you got the sense he could keep going all night if he willed himself to. "Cum around my cock like the dirty little whore you are."

That was all the prompting you needed.

Your ears started ringing. You let the almost unbearable feeling of ecstasy wash over you, flooding Minho’s cock. You knew you were crying out maybe a bit too loudly - but you didn’t care, thrashing in Minho’s hold and grasping the bedsheets for dear life as he fucked you through it. He didn’t slow his pace, riding out your intense orgasm caused by the man of your dreams and making you feel as if you’d been set on fire.

"Does that feel good, baby?" Minho crooned, continuing to fuck you as he went after his own orgasm. You could only manage a high-pitched whine in response. "Just a little longer, baby, you can do it. Just lie there and let me use your tight little pussy, that's it." His voice was hoarse, and the veins on his neck were prominent. You knew he was going to cum soon, but you didn't know if you could hold on. You were over-sensitive to the point of pain, hands gripping Minho's bed sheets.

"Cum - give me your cum," you urged Minho. "Now, please."

His eyes widened. Your command had seemed to catch him off guard a bit. He pulled out of you, and you watched as thick ribbons of pearly white cum oozed onto your abdomen. You gasped gently as you watched. It was perhaps the most beautifully erotic thing you'd ever seen. His dick was definitely a contender for the prettiest one you'd ever fucked, and his cum was thick and heavy, dripping from the tip like a waterfall.

"Thank you," you whispered. He leaned in, kissing you deeply. He tasted like sweat, hot and sticky, and you moaned.

He pulled away, before planting one more kiss on your forehead. "You're welcome."

Minho stood, going to the other side of his room. You tried to follow him with your eyes, but you felt so weak and tired that they slipped shut immediately. He returned seconds later, and you lay still, sighing as he cleaned you up. His touch was so gentle, so soothing, so different than it had been just minutes before.

"That better?" he asked, discarding the towel.

You nodded. "You want me to go crash with Felix?" you asked, unsure of what exactly this arrangement was.

"Nah, you reek of sex. Felix wouldn't want you." He helped you climb under the covers. "Plus, I wouldn't mind some company tonight." He slid into bed beside you, and you rolled over, laying your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, and you felt incredibly safe secure, especially considering just how utterly terrified you'd been of this man a few hours ago.

You giggled softly, so tired and fucked out that you felt a little delirious. "Can't believe you fucked me, Minho."

Minho gave a short laugh. "Can't believe you convinced me to fuck you so easily. You're a little minx. I really wanted to play with you some more."

You nestled into his chest. "I guess there'll have to be a next time then, huh?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "If you're lucky."

"You wanna fuck me again, Minho, I know you do," you mumbled. "I saw the look in your eyes when you came. You need my pussy."

Minho was silent for a few seconds. "You're awfully bold for someone who was crying on my cock ten minutes ago."

"...Yeah."

"Get some sleep, sweetheart." No more than ten seconds later, you were sleeping in his arms.

You slipped into the land of dreams, where you went on to fantasise about Minho - his thighs, his neck, his tummy, his hands. His kisses, his touches, his dick in your throat, in your holes. Minho everywhere. Were you completely insatiable? Maybe. But it seemed very likely that he'd give it to you again. In your sleep, you smiled.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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majosullivan · 4 months

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If anyone needs me in the next 24 hours or more, I’m going to be a bumbling mess of a emotional puddle on the floor

#GOOD DAD HE THINKS KAPPA WOULD BE A GOOD DAD #everyone say thank you to Wendy for the amazing mini episodes #AND WHO IS FUCKING READY FOR THE RETURN OF SEASON 3?#castle swimmer #castle swimmer kappa #kappa #castle swimmer siren #siren #kappa x siren #siren x kappa

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wardenparker · 1 year

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The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Dating Your Ex - ch 2

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+! Word Count: 6.7k Warnings: Mentions of: divorce, collegiate Greek life, underage drinking, food/alcohol consumption. References to sex and attraction. Summary: Dual attempts by you and Marcus to avoid drinking alone lead to you drinking together. Notes: The tension is building bit by bit! Please enjoy this chapter with a dose of “Tequila” by Dan + Shay 🥃

If things at work are relatively normal after having talked to Silvia yesterday, they have gone haywire at home. You had ended up spilling the whole story to your sister on the phone last night when she called to catch up and finished the night with too much alcohol and too little to eat all over again. And if that wasn't bad enough? It culminated in every dream you had last night starring Marcus in different ways. Because of that, tonight you decided to take yourself out after work. Being the last to leave the office, you had grabbed your sweater and headed down to your favourite restaurant with weekly live music to see if you could snag a table. Proper 21 is always busy but tonight it's packed, leaving you to happily accept the small high-top table in the bar area where you can watch the live band play and enjoy some indulgent food - and not drink an entire bottle of wine just because no one is there to stop you. It's craft cocktails and gourmet eats, or as you like to call it: self-care.

Marcus sighs as he bellies up to the bar, his suit jacket draped over the back of the chair, his sleeves rolled up, and his tie loosed with the top two buttons blessedly undone. He doesn't want to go home just yet, the prospect of a lonely weekend not appealing. The dreams he's had for the past two days have been vivid. Making him plunge into the past and even pull out the album that had been carefully stored away in a box in his closet. Last night had been too much scotch and too many memories to make his couch a safe retreat. The live music and generally ready to greet the weekend atmosphere of the bar was just what he needed. The bartender walks up, lifting his chin in greeting as Marcus slides his card across the wood top to start a tab. "What'll you have?" He asks as he snaps up the card to input into the system. "Uh...give me a Blanton's on the rocks with an orange twist." Marcus decides as he looks over the options available. "Thanks."

"Sure." The bartender nods and moves away, only to get pulled aside by a waitress a second later. She whispers in his ear and points out the table she's taking care of, and he nods - returning to Marcus a minute later with the ordered bourbon as well as a shot of Don Julio with a slice of lime wedged expertly onto the rim. He sets both down in front of Marcus and offers the man a smile. "Can I get you something to eat?"

Marcus's mouth goes dry, the scent of the tequila invading his senses and he's instantly transported back to his favorite memory of you. Wearing nothing but your panties and that t-shirt. That gorgeously faded Chi Omega t-shirt that he had insisted you keep. His socks, large on your feet and pulled up high as you tilt the bottle back and take a healthy swing of Don Julio, straddling his waist as the two of you lay back in his bed at the frat house. "I'm sorry." Marcus shakes his head and pushes the shot back towards the bartender an inch. "I didn't order this."

"Lady did." The bartender tells him, nodding behind him to where you are sitting - alone at a table for two with your own shot of tequila beside your cocktail. It's an olive branch - or maybe an agave branch, except agave plants don't technically have branches. Either way, it's an offering. One that you couldn't resist sending when you saw him walk into the bar.

Sighing, Marcus nods at the bartender. The first damn woman to buy him a drink in two years and it has to be tequila. He picks up the shot, ready to turn around and bring it over to the lady for her to enjoy, to explain that he didn't drink tequila but he stops short when he sees that it's you. Pausing for a moment, he swallows and gives himself a small nod before he continues on to your table. "Second time in three days." He hums as he sets the shot down on the table in front of yours.

"I think I'm supposed to say something about gin joints, but I have to admit I never really developed a taste for gin at all." It seemed like fate to you when you saw him walk in the door. Like the universe was trying to let the two of you be as mature as Silvia had been when she walked into your office yesterday morning. Maybe if you got a little closure, you wouldn't be constantly looking over your shoulder any time you went out around the city. Waiting for the other shoe to drop could be exhausting. "Do you...maybe want to sit? We could have dinner together if that's not too weird for you."

Marcus loses the ability to speak for just a moment before he nods, turning back to get his whiskey and his jacket to bring over to your table since it makes more sense to not be at the bar. It's only a few steps, a few moments away from your presence but he's quickly back at your table. He pulls out his chair and sits down. "I have a confession to make."

"Well shit, alright, let's get down to the nitty gritty." What else can you say? You're the one who invited him to join you, after all. "What is it?"

Marcus shoots you a grin, appreciating the way you could always cut through the bullshit. "I was going to turn down this drink. I don't drink tequila anymore."

"Neither do I." You can admit that freely, only pausing when the waitress brings over a menu for Marcus and drops off the order of Poke Nachos that you had gotten for an appetizer. Once she's gone again, you shrug a little. "It reminds me too much of you. Too many memories."

"Same." He admits it readily. "Every time I see you." His finger toys with the shot glass before he picks it up. "To seeing you for real." He offers as he holds it up to touch to yours.

"As weird and unexpected as it is." Tapping your glass to his, you both down your shots and reach for your lime slices as if drinking tequila were comparable to riding a bike. "Well shit," you laugh, shaking your head at the sour bite of citrus on the end of the stinging liquor. It's delicious, and better for the fact that he's actually there. "I really forgot how good tequila is, I guess."

"I didn't." He murmurs softly, plopping the lime down into the empty shot glass and swallows as he looks back down at his other drink. He's never forgotten how good it was, just like he's never forgotten how fucking gorgeous you are. Seemingly even more so now.

"I don't know why I said that." You really don't, and you shake your head at yourself a little before reaching for your cocktail. "I haven't forgotten anything. I just..." A sigh-groan hybrid escapes your lips and you avert your eyes, barely able to look at him at this point. He had been positively dreamy as a young man, but now that he was grown and matured? Somehow he's gotten even more attractive. "I was hoping to make you smile, I guess."

It's surprising that you want him to smile, but your confession makes it happen. Warming him that you still care. It's slow and subtle as he watches you squirm slightly. "That's easy for you to do, sweetheart." The endearment comes easily and now it's his turn to squirm as he realizes it's not entirely appropriate anymore.

Sweetheart. Between that and the tequila, you're nineteen years old all over again. "So..." Nudging the plate of nachos toward him a little, you pick one up and try to pretend like this isn't the most unexpected meal you've had in your entire life. "How have you been, Marcus?"

He snorts and shakes his head, leaning forward and plucking a chip up and looking over at you. "I'm the Director of the Art Crimes division for the FBI, so professionally, I'm doing great." He tells with a proud smile. "But I don't have Doctor in front of my name like you do."

"Well, I liked school a lot more than you did." Marcus had never been a bad student, but you definitely enjoyed academics whereas he had merely tolerated them. "Art Crimes, huh? I guess you didn't hate that Art History class you took with me, after all." Director of an entire division, wow – and yet, of course Marcus would have succeeded when he put his mind to it. He was, and apparently still is, an unstoppable force.

"It's interesting." He gives a small shrug, as if it's no big deal. "I always did like paying attention to the details."

"Director of an entire division? I'd say you're very good at the little details." You shiver a little despite yourself and hope he doesn't notice - Marcus's attention to detail was relevant to everything in his life. Especially the bedroom.

He flashes you a grin, shrugging his shoulders again and only allowing himself to preen slightly at your praise. "I have my moments." His voice dips down slightly, remembering the times he had been very detail oriented with you. It had made for some very vocal nights. Vocal enough that he had been encouraged to move out of the frat house so the others didn't have to hear you scream his name.

"Your family's good?" His parents were sweethearts, always supportive of their kids even if they didn't necessarily agree with their choices, and that had definitely included his decision to marry you. They hadn't tried to talk the two of you out of it but they had counseled a long engagement, ultimately deciding to just go along with things when you and Marcus were too blinded by young love to wait. It was encouraging when they had finally embraced you fully, and his mother had turned out to be a good friend while you were together.

Marcus sighs slightly, picking up his drink and taking a large sip before he answers your question. “Dad had a stroke about five years ago.” He tells you. “He’s – they live in a community where they can help mom with him.” He feels guilty that he doesn’t visit as often as he probably should, but D.C. was closer to Florida than Texas.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry to hear that." The immediate instinct to feel like an idiot for asking has to be tamped down. This is basic catch-up stuff. Questions that have to be asked. It's not like all of your news to great stuff, either. "Your brother and sister?"

“Good. Mandy got married about six years ago.” It had been a bittersweet event for him, but he had plastered a smile on his face to keep everyone from bringing up his own failed marriage. “Already have a niece and nephew. Twins.”

"Congratulations." The two of you are slowly eating your way through the nacho plate when the waitress comes back to take your dinner orders. Once dinner is decided on, you take another sip of your drink and continue on. "My sister got married, too. Three years ago. My nieces are two years and six months." If he had managed to escape the comments and snide looks at his own sister's wedding, you'll be envious. You had months and months of passive aggressive crap and shitty comments whispered behind your back to deal with.

“I bet your mother was in fine form.” Your mother hadn’t cared for Marcus, or you getting married, but she hadn’t liked the idea of you divorcing more.

"She actually tried to talk Leah out of having me as a bridesmaid," you snort, rolling your eyes at the memory. "So that I wouldn't jinx my baby sister's marriage. Obviously Leah told her to go to hell, but that was an ugly series of conversations."

He rolls his eyes and snorts. “Well, if it makes you feel better, my mother still asks if I’ve heard from you when we talk.” He huffs. “I think she prefers you over me sometimes.”

"Well shit, next time she asks, you can actually say yes." Annie Pike was - despite any reservations she may have had - an absolutely lovely woman and the best mother-in-law you could have asked for. "Actually, will you tell her I said hi? I still make her cheesecake recipe a couple of times a year and it..." It was bittersweet, reminding you of such good times and making your heart hurt at the same time. "It's always a big hit."

He groans at the thought of your cheesecake. He would never admit it to his mother, but yours was better. “I will.” He promises, shooting you a grin. “She will ask how you’ve been. Want to know all the details.” He taps the table. “So for her sake— are you seeing anyone?”

"Ah...no, actually. The last guy ran for the hills about...eight or nine months ago?" Straight for the big guns, that was typical of Marcus even if he claimed to be collecting tidbits for his mother. "Let's see...after we...well, you know what happened. I came to DC for grad school. Then Paris for a few years to get my doctorate from the Sorbonne, and now I've been at the Smithsonian for about six years."

“Wow.” He shakes his head, surprised he hadn’t learned you were here. It had taken a lot of willpower to keep from misusing government resources to see what you were up to. “That’s amazing. I know you always wanted to study in France.”

"Yeah, it was—" Stunning. It was an absolutely beautiful experience that came with a freedom you had never felt before and gave you more confidence than you had ever known you were missing. And yet? Every single day, there was always something that reminded you of him. "It was pretty extraordinary. Y-you would love it there."

Marcus’s smile is bittersweet. “I was in Paris five months ago.” He admits. “A symposium for art crimes hosted by the Louvre.” It had been stunning and it had taken a lot of effort on his part not to think about you. He had chosen to focus on his failed relationship with Teresa. It was almost easier.

"So then you know." The number of times you had wandered the crowded galleries of the Louvre wishing he was beside you was too vast to count, but that was years ago. You had tried to convince yourself that you had moved on from all that. Apparently, you are an even bigger liar than you thought you were, but you keep the smile plastered on your face. "What else will Annie want to know?"

He chuckles and reaches for another nacho. “I don’t know, you tell me.” He doesn’t mention kids, knowing that if you didn’t have a boyfriend, it was unlikely you had changed your stance on kids.

"Let's see." Humming to yourself like you're pondering the secrets of the universe just hoping that he'll laugh at your overly serious expression, you're rewarded with a cracked grin and another soft chuckle. "I'm a much better cook than I used to be, she'll be glad about that. And from time to time I lecture at George Washington University." Your life is your work, and you did that fully intentionally. There's no use updating him on the random seasonal illnesses or the fact that you still wish you could have a dog. And there's really no point in talking about the change in how you look at relationships these days. Things are a lot different on the other side of thirty.

“It sounds like you have everything you want.” Marcus is proud that you’ve accomplished what you wanted. You have the life you imagined. The one that didn’t have a place for him in it. “She will be proud of you.” He hums, finishing his drink and when the server comes back over, he orders another.

Following his lead, you order another cocktail as well, and swallow a uniquely remorseful sigh. "I'm sorry about Silvia," you tell him honestly, wishing that second Aperol Spritz was already in your hands. "She told me what she decided to do."

Marcus shrugs, there was nothing he could do about it. “It’s fine.” He cracks a sardonic smile. “Just another page in the woe begotten tale I call my love life.” He jokes.

"I'm sorry." It's repetitious, but at least it's honest. Marcus only used to use that tone when he was particularly hurt about something and didn't want to show it. "If it makes you feel any better, my love life is in shambles, too. But for me I guess it's karma."

“No.” He shakes his head and wishes he had his drink in his hand. “You don’t have anything for karma to come back on you. Unless you were a bitch to the last guy? But I can’t see that happening.”

It shouldn't surprise you that he's still so nice even after you pretty much ripped his chest open with a divorce-papers-induced paper cut, but still you have to wonder at it a little. There's no one in the world like Marcus Pike - and no one knows that better than you. Since you're the asshole that let him go. "The last guy was military. Couldn't wrap his head around the fact that I wasn't willing to follow him base to base."

He snorts, his smile slightly brittle. “You’ve never been one to follow.” He reminds you, the arguments about ‘where to go from here’ seem like they were yesterday as the rose-colored glasses gave way to post graduate reality. It hadn’t mattered that Marcus had put his own dreams on hold for a year to get a job while you finished college, there wasn’t room for compromise on your future.

"Yeah." You huff, nearly snatching up your drink when the waitress comes over and sets it down along with your dinner and Marcus's refill and food. "Look where it's gotten me," you add, the hint of cynicism distinct in your voice.

“Thank you.” Marcus thanks the woman and turns back to you. “Yeah. Because being a director at the Smithsonian is nothing.” It’s slightly ironic that he’s arguing for your decisions, but he had always focused on the good. Maybe that was why things never worked out for him, but he can’t help who he is.

"It's about as nothing as being a director at the FBI." But the real nothing about it is that you go home alone every night to your apartment wishing that you didn't have a horrific habit of pushing away everyone who tried to get close to you. "I—I'm sorry. We can talk about something else. I'm sure you didn't plan on having dinner out tonight so that you could listen to your ex-wife wax philosophical."

Marcus snorts and picks up his glass. “To be honest, I was avoiding going home like the plague. It’s why I was here.”

"At least we match in something," you try for the joke, realizing secondarily that you also match in job titles. Director Pike and Director Pike. It's silly and it makes you chuckle under your breath.

He’s always liked your laugh, reminding him of the times he would hear it. Your leg wrapped around his hip, fingers brushing that sensitive spot just under your right breast. His cock twitches and he reminds himself that all of that ended years ago. He takes a bite of his dinner to ground himself, looking up at you again. “Hopefully Silvia didn’t scar you too much with her girl talk now that you know it was me she was seeing.”

“No.” The smiles come a bit easier as the two of you dig into your dinners. Some of the awkwardness has begun to dissipate and you’re left with a feeling of nostalgia and warmth in your chest. And a little bit between your legs, too. Because Silvia hadn’t held back on details. “You got rave reviews, by the way,” you tell him with a smirk. What you hadn’t told Silvia since the revelation of her beau’s identity was that most of those things that she loved were things you were around for the origin of. Most of…there were a couple of things mentioned that now have you intrigued.

Marcus flushes, feeling the heat creep up his cheeks and tries to tell himself that if his girlfriend - former girlfriend - had to gossip about how he performs in bed to his ex-wife, he can only be grateful that it was bragging. “I’m sure it was not as intriguing when you found out it was someone you’ve taught.” He huffs, still rolling his eyes at the irony.

“Technically I’ve taught both of you.” It makes you chuckle again, the breathy sound swallowed up by a grin when you glance up and see how red his cheeks are. Marcus could never really pull off a poker face when he was embarrassed - blushing gave him away. Twelve years later and it’s still cute as hell. “I mean, she was academic lectures in a classroom, but still.” You shrug as if it’s nothing, but can’t resist adding: “Besides, she definitely mentioned a couple of things that you must have picked up after me.”

Marcus bites his lip, the only thing preventing him from offering to show you those things. The two of you had always been very sexually compatible and he had never had a moment where he was uncomfortable in bed with you, even during the inevitable embarrassing moments that can happen. The two of you had just giggled like only those completely in love can and moved on. “Yeah, well….”

“Hey, no, I’m glad you’ve had good things in your life and made good memories.” It would be hypocritical and dumb to be jealous about. After all - you were the one who ended things. There’s no reason for the small pangs of jealousy in your gut right now. They’re there, even though they shouldn’t be. But thinking that all those years could have been filled with you and him makes you ache even more now that he’s right in front of you. “You deserve to be happy. Th-that’s half of why I did what I did.”

Marcus’s jaw clenches slightly, and he looked down at his plate. There’s a sarcastic retort on his tongue that, while you might deserve it, it would ruin the friendly atmosphere. Instead, he exhales slowly and flashes you a grin. “You know me, always happy.”

“Right.” Having dug your own hole, you can’t be upset that you no longer have the privilege of seeing into Marcus’s second layer of emotions. You gave up the right to being his confidante when you gave him back your rings. You did it to yourself. “They probably still tell stories of the Sunshine Frat Boy of Kappa Sigma.”

“Yeah.” He lets out an amused chuckle. “What other couple went into their divorce together?” He asks as he cuts another bite of his steak. “Or go home together for one last night before leaving?” There hadn’t been sex that last night, he couldn’t do it, but there had been a lot of hugs and reassurances. The false promises of staying friends, keeping in touch. Things that both of you had needed at that time.

“If I tell you something, can I ask you to be honest in how you reply and not just polite?” He had almost been honest with you, but you don’t know if you might have lost that privilege as well. Either way, you’re feeling the need to be extremely honest with him right now and you don’t exactly know how it’s going to go.

“Okay….” He’s slightly wary of this, but if you ask for honesty, he’s going to give it to you. Marcus isn’t deceptive by nature for the most part, but sometimes he doesn’t say what he’s thinking. Apparently that had been one of the issues you had with him towards the end. “Go for it.”

“I—” Pinching your eyes shut for just a moment, you look back up at the broad shouldered, gentle giant of a man that Marcus has grown into and sigh, nearly laugh at yourself for finally admitting it. Words you’ve never even said to your therapist, let alone to yourself or a friend. “I’ve really missed you. That’s all. I just want you to know that.”

He almost laughs, but he catches himself. Because your eyes are earnest and you would think he was laughing at you, instead of laughing because he’s felt the exact same damn way since the day you packed up your car and drove away. The morning after the papers were filed, the morning after you were no longer his wife. “I’ve missed you too.” He admits huskily. “I’ve had to— I’ve thought about looking you up several times, but I couldn’t do it.”

“Same.” It’s a goddamn relief to get off your chest, and hearing that he isn’t angry anymore is like a gift you don’t deserve, but it’s clear in his voice. “I figured you’d be remarried with a couple of kids by now and I didn’t want to interrupt your life.”

Marcus huffs and shakes his head. “Haven’t been too lucky. Was engaged about a year ago.” He confesses, thinking about the entire debacle with Teresa. Part of him – and his therapist – thinks it’s because he saw a lot of your spirit in her. “For a week and a half?” He nods. “Yeah.”

“A week and a half?” Your eyes open wide in surprise and you sink a little, feeling like you’re exactly what your mother always said – a jinx. “Fuck. I—I’m so sorry, Marc.”

"Not your fault." He shrugs, reaching for his whiskey glass. "I jumped in too far too fast like usual and ignored the neon light red flag that was being waved." He huffs to himself about everything he had talked over with his therapist. "She chose the guy she needed to be with and I came to D.C. Well, technically I was already here when I got the message."

“Any woman who lets you get away is an idiot.” You huff, sighing slightly. Full disclosure – complete honesty – was something you believed in wholeheartedly and always had. Marcus’s tendency to just leave out details so as not to upset people had been one of the only things that really bothered you in your marriage. Aside from the larger problem of realizing that you were far too young to settle down and give up your career dreams to start having kids. So tell the truth is exactly what you’re going to do now. If it’s the last chance you ever get to be honest with him, you want it to count. “Trust me, I’m the biggest idiot of all of them.”

"You were just doing what you thought you needed to." It's a defense he's used a thousand times to his family, to the friends that you had together when they found out that you had left him. Even as hurt and upset as he had been, he hadn't let anyone talk bad about you. Not around him. "As long as you're happy, that's what is important."

“You’re a good man.” He always had been, of course. Even as young as you were. But that doesn’t stop your heart from hurting knowing that you are your own worst enemy. You’re the reason you lost him, plain and simple. No one else to blame. “You always have been. I just hope you’re happy, that’s all. You deserve it.”

He snorts slightly. “Apparently not good enough.” He replies flippantly before he can stop himself. There’s a three second pause where he’s completely silent before he speaks again. “Sorry…. you don’t deserve that.” He offers, lifting his napkin out of his lap and wiping his mouth and setting it on the table. “I’m going to the bathroom before I manage to shove the rest of my foot in my mouth.” An embarrassed flush is on his cheeks as he stands up.

“I absolutely deserved that.” The correction is gentle, but you shrug when he stands up. There is nothing you deserve more than to be put in your place by the man you walked out on. “If you want to leave, I understand. You don’t have to excuse yourself politely and then slip out.”

“I’m not—” Marcus shakes his head, unable to put into words his feelings and simply turns and walks towards the bathrooms. His suit jacket is still on the back of his chair.

You sigh when he walks away, looking down at your plate and force yourself to eat. Looks like it’s going to be another bottle of wine alone with your feelings tonight and you should eat something before that happens.

In the bathroom, Marcus splashes water on his face, staring at the reflection in the mirror critically. “Fucking cut it out.” He hisses to himself. “She’s being polite.” The truth is, it hurt to see that while you had your career, that was it. That your job could satisfactorily replace the amazing relationship that he thought the two of you had back then. Shaking it off, he strides back out and sits back down quietly. “Sorry, I’m back.” He murmurs.

“I’m sorry I got sentimental.” It’s half-assed, and you hate yourself for it, but seeing him again has made you feel things you never thought possible. That you never let yourself think were possible.

"Nothing for you to be sorry about." Marcus ignores his whiskey and reaches for the wine glass filled with water. "I – it's issues with me."

“Who says people don’t get more fun after thirty?” It’s a horrible joke, but it’s all you’ve got right now if you’re going to do anything but still your guts to him at this table. It’s like you lost your filter somewhere along the way.

"Yeah." It's horrible, but he can't help but crack an ironic smile. "Heartburn, creaking joints, hangovers and the sinking realization that you will die alone." He takes a large gulp of his water. "Just a barrel of laughs."

“You’ll find someone.” He will, because it’s Marcus and he’s amazing. He’s sweet and handsome and genuinely a good man, and apparently really fantastic at his job If they went and made him director of a whole department. You, though? It’s relationship purgatory for you. Because you’ll never find anyone as good as Marcus Pike ever again and there’s no way he’ll ever take you back. So maybe it’s about time to get some plants and call it a day.

Marcus sighs and shakes his head. "I found someone." He knows he should shut the fuck up. You don't want to hear about his relationship woes, he needs to talk about this with his therapist. His sliver of rationale is that you opened this door when you admitted that you missed him. "I found her when I was fucking nineteen and I fucked it up and lost her." He looks up from his water to look into your eyes, his own shimmering with emotion.

“Well shit.” That takes the wind out of your sails in a way that nothing else really can and if you didn’t have a personal rule against crying in public you would probably be in instant tears. As it is, you kind of feel like you’re shaking a little, but you’re going to blame that on the chill in the air tonight even though you’re nowhere near the door of the restaurant. “I—d” Breathe, goddamit. “You didn’t fuck it up, Marc. I did.”

"No." Marcus shakes his head. "I must have fucked up. I must have made you feel like it had to be me or your dreams. Somehow. Because all I knew was that I was dreaming about our future together and you were dreaming of yours and it didn't include me." His voice cracks slightly and he swallows down the urge to ask you what he did. It's probably what he always does, move too fast – take over and make plans.

It’s a gut punch, and you absolutely more than deserve it. But that doesn’t stop you from wishing you could evaporate into thin air right here in the bar. “I didn’t—we were so young,” you murmur, eyes dropping to the table when you can’t even look him in the eye. “I heard you saying all these things you wanted and I just…I didn’t even know what I wanted. It was like I hit panic mode when you started talking about kids and I didn’t think I could have both.” As an adult in therapy, you’ve worked through a lot of your hang ups and misconceptions from growing up. Realized that you were wrong. That you hurt him and yourself because you didn’t have the emotional maturity to all the hard questions and only jumped ahead to incorrect conclusions. “You were dreaming, but I heard plans. And I just— I should have talked to you. So when I say it’s not your fault, I mean it.”

“I lied to you.” Marcus admits softly. “When you left—I told you I had plans to hang out with my frat brothers and shoot some pool.” He huffs slightly and picks up his drink. “I crawled inside a bottle of Don Julio for three days and had to delete your number so I didn’t call you to beg you to come back.”

“I pulled over on the drive to DC to cry so many times that I arrived in commuter traffic.” Your own voice is as quiet as his, since he knows exactly what that drive should have been. Three hours from the apartment you had shared outside the UPENN campus turned into more than seven on the road because you just couldn’t see two feet in front of you through the sheets of tears.

Marcus sighs and shakes his head, wondering why the hell you had even left if it had been so hard for both of you. "We make perfect sense." He jokes, wanting to make smile.

“At the risk of being incredibly cliched, do you want to get out of here?” You’ve finished your meals and most of your second drinks, and it’s obvious that this conversation is a lot more personal than just two people catching up after years apart. “I live pretty close, and…” Shrugging, you hope you can make it sound friendly instead of like you’re trying to get him alone. You’re hopeful, not delusional. “I have cheesecake in the fridge.”

"You know how I feel about cheesecake." He offers as he nods, reaching for his glass to drain the last swallow of Blanton's from it and set it down. "Let me pay, since you're providing dessert?" It might be old fashioned, but he wants to buy you dinner.

“Yes, but!” The smile on your face is small but glowing, feeling that forbidden hope somewhere in your chest that you know you don’t deserve but you can’t ever seem to banish. “If we survive tonight without deciding never to speak again, you have to let me pay for whatever we do next time. Deal?”

"If you insist." He can't help but grin as he pulls out his wallet so he can pay for the meal the two of you had managed to muddle through.

Outside on the street you stuff your hands in your sweater pockets and actually let yourself smile. “Did you drive? I can give you my address for your gps or you can follow me back. Whatever you prefer.”

"I—" Marcus rubs the back of his neck and looks around. "I took a cab." He admits with a grin. "I had planned on needing an Uber to get home if I'm honest."

“Ah.” He was planning on doing his heavy drinking out, while you had planned on doing yours at home. “In that case?” You nod to your left and turn in that direction. “My car is parked a block away.”

He gives you a small smirk and a half shoulder shrug. "I really didn't want to go home." He reminds you as he walks alongside you towards your car. It's gotten dark out, the streetlamps making it a pleasant walk along the sidewalks.

“I get it.” He’ll see the empty wine bottles in your recycling when you get back to the apartment so there’s no sense being coy about it. “What do you drown yourself in these days? Since it’s not Don Julio anymore?”

“Whiskey, red wine. Hell even champagne is fine, scotch on the rocks.” Marcus shoves his hands in his pockets. “I— fuck, I wrote a song about it.” He confesses.

“You did not?” Your head pops up from digging through your purse for your keys in surprise. “I—I didn’t know you were still with your band.” Those cheaply recorded CDs are still in the bottom of your Marcus Memory Box, neglected but not forgotten. He was an amazing musician, and you would be lying if you said you hadn’t contemplated popping up at a show several times over the years.

“Not anymore.” He doesn’t have time anymore, although he misses it. The song had been written on a whim, during one of those moments here he needed to get his feelings out and when he showed one of his frat brothers who had loved it enough to pass it along. The fact that it had become an actual track on an album was still surreal to him.

“That’s a shame. I know I’m biased, but I always thought you were great.” Coming up with your keys, you unlock the city-appropriate-sized forest green Mini Cooper a few feet ahead of you as you and Marcus walk side by side. “It’s a short drive. Only about fifteen minutes from here.”

“That’s convenient.” He walks around the car and opens the driver’s side door for you. Something that his father had taught him to do no matter who was driving or who the lady was to you. Old school manners that he enjoyed.

“Still a gentleman.” Not that you ever doubted it. Some things never changed – and this is just basic to who Marcus is as a person. You thank him and tuck into your little car, only having to wait a few seconds before he gets in beside you and you’re pulling into nighttime traffic with ease.

Marcus looks around your car, smiling at the necklace that is around the rear-view mirror. It had driven him crazy when you would do that because it would invite someone to break into your car, but you always insisted it was because you had forgotten to take it off.

“At least there’s no bumper stickers on this one,” you defend, smirking slightly when you see Marcus eyeing your necklace and trying not to laugh. He was a stickler for safety – and always insisted that the stickers gave away too much information about a car’s owner to potential criminals. He had given you so much grief about the huge amount of bumper stickers on the rear of your first car that you never put them on your second. And by the time you got your third - this one - you’d realized he was right. They really can give too much away unintentionally.

“Small steps then.” Marcus laughs and looks around the neighborhood, noticing that you aren’t too far away from his own. Only about twenty-five minutes away. “It’s an easy target.”

“Good thing my building has impeccable security, then.” Pointing it out before you turn into the side street, you immediately head into the underground parking for your building and punch in your unique renter code. There are a fair few government employees in this building, and you pay a decent premium for the extra security, but it’s worth it to feel safe.

“That’s good.” Marcus heartily approves of you making sure that you are safe. He had honestly worried about it when you two divorced but had realized it wasn’t his concern anymore. It hadn’t stopped him from putting pepper spray in your bag before you left. It hadn’t stopped him from worrying. From wanting to take care of you.

My Masterlist!

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mixtape-racha · 9 months

Text

talk me down | sim jaeyun

you honestly couldn't comprehend why falling for your brother's best friend was so taboo... especially when said best friend was jake sim. // minors dni, 18+

words: 6.55k // warnings: established relationship, jock!jake, frat!jake x sorority!reader, brother!heesung, unprotected sex (pull out method is used - wrap it before you tap it guys)

loving jake sim was easy, like breathing. everything he did was the epitome of “boyfriend”, and it never failed to have butterflies in your stomach and a flush of red on your cheeks. you just wished you could love him out loud, show him off to the world as yours, and you knew deep down he felt the same.

you didn’t understand why falling for your brother’s best friend was so taboo. sure, heesung was jake’s only hyung, and that made things slightly more awkward - jake would never want to do anything that could offend or upset heesung, but falling for you was never on his agenda when befriending his older friend on the football team.

now heesung had graduated, it was easier for you and jake to just be together on campus, but sometimes it got difficult. he couldn’t just turn up to pick you up from home for a date over the holidays, and you had to be careful with your proximity and interactions when you were all hanging out as a group with their other friends.

part of you felt awful about hiding this from your elder brother, but no one knew how he’d react so you were biding your time in finding the right time to tell him. you hoped he’d approve - you needed him to approve. more than anything. you couldn’t lose jake, not after spending so long falling for everything about him. all his quirks and secret hobbies. all his guilty pleasures and his routines. his coffee order, the songs he uses to hype himself up before a game. the way he holds you, the way he kisses you - conveying everything he couldn't say through the way his lips meshed with yours.

however, what you weren’t expecting was for everything to come tumbling out when heesung gatecrashed a frat party with a bunch of other last years’ graduates from the football team.

—-------------------------------------------------------------

jake had met heesung when the younger was just a baby-faced college freshman. it was only a few years ago, but it felt like a lifetime. jake was a pledge for kappa nu, where heesung was already a brother - a legacy, actually. his father and uncles had all been in kappu nu during their time at the college, and it was safe to say heesung was one of their most active members.

heesung quickly adopted jake as his little brother, seeing a lot of himself in the bright-eyed kid. they became best friends almost as quickly, heesung introducing jake to the football team, which is where jake got his confidence to actually go to tryouts.

he had met you not far into the semester, at a mixer between his frat, and your sorority - where you were, much like your brother, a legacy. you were instantly attracted to him, and got chatting almost straight away. you told him about how your entire family had gone to HybeU, and that nowhere else even seemed like an option for you brother the previous year, or you when you had applied. it turned out HybeU loved legacy students, and were keen to take on as many as they could.

with the flush of alcohol running through your veins, you almost got the confidence to ask jake to take you back to his room, before your brother called out your childhood nickname - stunning both you and jake.

“(n/n)! you’ve met jake! he’s the kid i was telling you about!”

he was so excited for his best friend to meet his treasured little sister, but you couldn’t deny the awkwardness that developed between you and jake after. almost as if your brother being his best friend was an instant turn-off for him.

but as much as he tried to put distance between you to ignore the growing crush he developed on you from the first time he saw you - he couldn’t. it was like he couldn’t escape you. he was going to hang out off campus with his friends? heesung was insistent on bringing you along! a football match, or even practice? oh, you were in the stands because heesung was taking you out for some brother-sister bonding after. jake was struggling in his english lit class, which he needed to pass to stay on the team? you loved the novel he was learning about, heesung would see if you were free to tutor him sometime!

it was almost as if the universe, or even heesung himself was trying to push the two of you together. he almost got up the courage to ask heesung for his blessing to take you on a date, until he was stuck in a conversation with his hyung and another frat brother which changed his perspective.

“i dunno, man. your sister’s pretty cute, and she’s around all the time. i’d take her out, you know?”

heesung seethed at the mere thought of it. “if you, or anyone here for that matter, even think about touching my sister i promise i won’t hesitate to cut your balls off. she’s off limits, got it?”

oh.

maybe jake wouldn’t ask you out, after all.

but it was so difficult - to be around you so often and not be able to voice his feelings. he truly had no idea you felt the same way, especially clueless to the conversation you and heesung had after you ended up blushing and shy everytime you hung out with his friends. heesung didn’t know your feelings for jake, and so he couldn’t tell the boy in question, and you were happy to keep it that way. he just warned you that his friends were off-limits, and probably not the type of boyfriend material you were after. in fact, he warned you that most frat boys were not the type of boys he’d want his sister to be with.

it was only after your childhood best friend and sorority sister started dating a shared friend of heesung and jake - and by default, you - that you began to question hiding your feelings from jake. jay was lovely, and he was so perfect to mina that you couldn’t help but wonder…. why couldn’t that be you? why couldn’t it be jake picking you up from mixers when you drank too much, or bringing coffee to your morning lecture because you were tired? what was the harm in trying?

embarrassingly, your confession came when jake picked you up from a bar - entirely by accident. heesung was sick and all your friends were either busy, or had also been drinking. but jake came for you, like a knight in shining armor, and you couldn’t help it.

“you’re so pretty, ikeu.” you breathed, your eyes dancing like stars as you took in the way he stood against his car waiting for you. you watched as a pretty, pink blush spread across his cheeks and he shook his head softly.

“you’re drunk,” he started, opening the passenger door to help you in. “c’mon. you need some water and to go to bed.”

of course you listened, it was jake so why wouldn’t you? but you were still determined to prove your point.

“no, seriously, jake. you’re, like…. gorgeous,” you couldn’t look away from him as he pulled away from the curb to take you back to your sorority house. “everyone loves you and its not fair. it means i’m not special.”

he was taken aback by your words, glancing over at you slightly shocked when he reached a red light. his heart was hammering in his chest, but he was painfully aware that he couldn’t respond the way he truly wanted, especially while you were intoxicated in his passenger seat.

“you are special, (y/n). i don’t think you realize how special you are to me. but let's not talk about this now, yeah?”

“but if not now, then when? heesung wouldn’t let us be alone together if he knew how i really felt.” you huffed, opting to stare out the window instead. jake thought you looked like a child sulking, it was kind of cute.

“(y/n),” he started softly. “if you like me more than as a friend, it’s okay. it actually makes the way i’ve been pining over you less embarrassing. but you know we can’t act on it, right? heesung would kill me.”

you couldn’t help the tears that build it your eyes as jake pulled up to your house, the car drawing to a stop as you let out a sigh.

“i know. thanks for the ride, jake. see you around, i guess.”

you had left the car before he could even say another word, but he was too stupid and overwhelmed to go after you, which in hindsight was his biggest mistake. you started avoiding him after that, barely able to act normal when you bumped into him with your brother.

it went on for three weeks, and he couldn’t stand it. fuck what heesung thought. he couldn’t cope with the way you avoided him like the plague - not when he knew you felt the same way as him.

heesung had gone away on a trip with one of his clubs, and you felt restless and abandoned. you’d never been away from your brother for too long, and not having him within an arm’s distance was unsettling in every way. you started hanging out at the frat house again more often, as you saw the guys as brothers of your own by default, but that didn’t stop you from avoiding jake still.

it was only when he bumped into you in the kitchen at 3am one morning that he got up the courage to confront you, and neither of you could have expected the turn that the night would take.

“you know you don’t have to act like i don’t exist, right? it actually fucking sucks.”

you jumped, not expecting the voice behind you as you filled your water bottle in the sink. you knew it was jake, and as much as you wanted to avoid this conversation, you knew you couldn’t. you sighed, switching off the faucet and turning to face him, taking in the way he seemed exhausted in every sense of the word.

“jake, i can’t do this right now, okay?”

“but if not now, then when?” he snapped, mirroring your words from the night you told him of your feelings for him, and you had to admit you felt a bit ashamed. was it really eating him up that bad?

“you were right. heesung would kill you. so what’s the point of entertaining something that can never happen? being around you is too hard right now, so i’m keeping my distance until i’m over this. please don’t make it harder for me, jake.”

there was a beat of silence as jake processed what you had said and took a mental battle with himself. you could see the cogs turning in his head as he muttered to himself, angry with you ro himself, you weren’t sure.

“let’s just… talk about this another time, okay?”

you went to walk past him, but you didn’t get far before he grabbed your wrist with a silent plea to just wait and hear him out. the contact between you had your skin buzzing, and all of a sudden you completely forgot why you’d been avoiding him. why couldn’t you both just be normal people?

jake sighed, his eyes darting over your face for any signs of discomfort.

“just– fuck it. fuck what heesung thinks.” was all he said before pulling you closer and placing his lips on yours. and it felt magical. yeah, you may have been kissing in his fraternity kitchen at almost half past three in the morning, wearing one of his friend’s shirts as a sleep dress, but it was the most perfect first kiss you could have even imagined.

he couldn’t stop himself, pressing peck after peck to your soft lips, his hands cupping your face like you’d disappear if he let go. your hands, on the contrary, had dipped under his shirt, holding onto his waist like it was keeping you grounded. it took everything in you not to dig your nails into his gorgeous skin when his teeth nipped your bottom lip, and you let out an embarrassing whimper. god, were you really that touch-starved?

eventually, you had to pull away for breath, mumbling against his lips because you couldn’t bring yourself to be too far for him. “take me to your room, jake. i don’t care what we do, we could just sleep for all i care, i just need to be close to you.”

he grinned, softly caressing your cheek as he pulled away, and you blushed at the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he was quick to take your hand and pull you up the stairs to his bedroom. once you were safely in with the door closed and locked, he practically begged you to change into one of his shirts to sleep in, his puppy-dog eyes making you weak in the knees.

“please, (y/n), i can’t sleep next to you knowing you’re wearing one of jungwon’s shirts. what about if– listen, whatever one you choose i’ll let you keep it, yeah?”

he was cute when he begged, not that he needed to. and the second you were curled up in his bed, one of your legs slung over his waist while his fingers drew soft patterns on your skin - you knew you were in love.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

almost two years had passed since jake asked you to be his girlfriend, exactly a year after you found yourself curled up in his bed with a shitty tv show playing in the background - and things were a lot different since then

you were both seniors now. jake was captain of the football team, while you were president of the musical theater society. heesung had graduated a year earlier, and while you felt bad about hiding a huge part of your life from him, being with jake couldn’t be better.

now heesung was no longer on campus, you could go out holding hands, or stay at each other’s dorms without the worry of being caught. you could kiss jake when he ran up to you happily after a successful football game, and he could meet you with flowers after one of your musical theater performances.

you just prayed that heesung would stay oblivious enough at least until after you graduated - you’d feel less bad about telling him then. in fact, you were impressed with how well you and jake were hiding it from him. unfortunately for you, it wouldn’t last as long as you hoped.

not long before the first semester of your senior year ended, kappa nu decided to throw a huge celebration party - mainly to celebrate the upcoming graduates, but also just to enjoy the end of the semester before christmas break.

of course, you and jake were keen to go - even more so when sunghoon had excitedly told you it was going to be a costume party. the concept of a costume party sparked many playful fights between jake and yourself - he wanted to go in hogwarts robes, but you felt that was too halloween-like and wanted something more…. couple-y? cute?

eventually, you decided to go as romeo and juliet, jake searching high and low for a non-metallic knight costume that was breathable and easy to move in, while you had it easy. you thrifted a really cute white dress, and found a pair of good quality, dainty angel wings online for a relatively cheap price.

the two of you decided not to show one another your costumes until the day of the party, where you’d have to meet jake at the kappa nu house where he was given the responsibility of greeting guests. it was exciting, and you decided to throw in your own twist to the costume as a fun surprise for him.

it felt like a given that you’d stay with jake after the party, crashing in his room and probably spending all your hangover recovery time with him, so why not make it interesting? you searched online high and low to find the perfect website - and when you did, you ordered a gorgeous lace thong in white (to match your dress) with the phrase “jake’s girl” etched into the hemline with crystal lettering. talk about a perfect early christmas present, right?

you tried to avoid talking about the party with him after that, afraid you’d accidentally spill your guts and spoil the surprise for him. but luckily he seemed more caught up in the love lives of his friends - more specifically, who they’d all be bringing to the party.

“i think sunoo’s going to bring that sophomore girl from his accounting seminars. at least i hope so, god, i’m so sick of hearing him pine after her. i swear i wasn’t that bad before we got together.”

looking over at jay who was sitting opposite you with mina in the cafe, he gave you a look that told you all you needed to know. jake was definitely that bad. probably worse. in fact, you did them all a favor by getting with him because he would never shut the fuck up about you.

when the day of the party finally arrived, you and your sorority sisters decided to all band together and get ready in your living room - helping one another with makeup, straightening each other’s hair, being each other’s designated photographers for instagram posts. you had no idea anyone off campus knew anything about the party - especially not last years graduates - until you got a message from your brother.

have fun tonight, (n/n)!!! send me a picture of ur costume :( im so annoyed i’m not there kappa nu didn’t do anything like this before i graduated

for some reason, the wording of heesung’s message felt ominous. you weren’t sure how he even knew about the party, but you shook it off the second one of the younger, freshman girls in your house asked you if you could braid her hair - which you agreed to, happily pulling out a box of hair ties.

by the time all the girls were ready, it was half past nine and you were a little late for the party - not that you minded. after shoving some essentials in the little purse you were bringing, you all left the house to start the short walk to the kappa nu house.

it probably looked insane - 15 girls all dressed in different costumes that definitely didn’t coordinate walked down the road in the student village. you all looked like you were going to completely different events, and the effects of the pre-drinks were starting to kick in with the way you were all giggling like maniacs. half of you couldn’t walk in a straight line sober, so the group of you stumbling across the curb must’ve looked rather amusing to passers-by.

you and the elder sisters in the sorority stayed to the back of the group as your approached the house, wanting all the younger girls to get in the house safely and make sure you hadn’t lost anyone on the walk there - the freshman and sophomores were feral, and sometimes you struggled to keep track of them.

you smiled as jake came into your line of vision, his freshly bleached hair in a dirty blonde adding to the effect of the costume. you liked it, maybe too much, but that was a problem for later. he grinned when he saw you, taking in your outfit and making you do a quick twirl for him.

“you look good, baby. i’ll be inside in a minute, yeah? they’re making me stay on the door until the last sorority gets here.” he pressed a kiss to your temple as you ran your hands over the armor of his costume - it was surprisingly good quality, and you couldn’t help but wonder where he got it so last minute.

“no worries, jakey, just come find me when you get in.” you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, reaching up to rub away the remains of your lipgloss after. you took note of the soft hue of red coating his cheeks and turned to wave at him as you walked into the house. you would never get over the affect you had on jake, it was both endearing and so, so fucking attractive.

jake wormed his way through the crowds of people towards you about 15 minutes later, a red solo cup of punch in each hand. he passed you a cup and sipped his own as you danced with your friends, having the best time of your college life so far. when you’d finally had enough of dancing with jake and your friends, and your feet started to hurt, you took jake’s hand and began mingling - being a social butterfly was never on your agenda, but you loved knowing so many people and being able to say hi and know the names of most people at the party.

it was only about an hour and a half into the party that you remembered your surprise for jake, and the alcohol coursing through your veins gave you enough confidence to finally show him. you and jake were by no means new to sexual activity with one another, but he still always managed to make you shy and for once you wanted to give him the same effect.

you waved goodbye to jay and mina, quickly pulling jake towards an empty bathroom and giggling as he questioned where you were going. his cousin and frat brother had finally met a girl, so his bedroom was off-bounds as jake had loaned it to him for the night, so for now a bathroom was your best option.

pushing jake in and locking the door behind you, he’d never been so confused in his life.

“what’s going on, angel? you getting overwhelmed out there?” he asked as you hopped onto the counter shaking your head.

“got a surprise for you, jakey, but i couldn’t show you out there. trust me, you don’t want anyone else to see it.” biting your lip to try and contain your grin, you moved jake’s hands to the hem of your dress, urging him to lift it up.

he chuckled breathlessly, confused by your antics.

“don’t tell me you’ve got all needy for me already, huh? oh, baby, what am i going to do with you?”

you groaned as he simply fingered the hemming of your dress, your eyebrows furrowing slightly in frustration. annoyed with his waiting game, you lifted your dress, the light catching the crystals on your panties causing his eyes to go flying down to them.

it took him a minute to process what the lettering spelt, but once he did, he looked back up at you with a smirk. one that had you clenching your thighs together, anticipating what was to come.

“yeah, you’re my girl,” he hummed, the cockiness flooding through in this tone. “my pretty, pretty girl, aren’t you? you did all this for me, hmm?”

you nodded shyly, a coat of red settling gently on your cheeks as he caressed your bare thighs. you loved it when he got possessive, and he loved it equally as much when you willingly submitted yourself to him completely.

“nuh uh, use your words,” he chuckled, pinching the skin between his fingers and reveling in the way your breaths got shorter as he inched closer to your core. “you’re a big girl, aren’t you? my girl. use your words for me, my angel girl.”

“did it all you for, jakey,” you mumbled, nosing against his neck as he pulled himself closer to you. “just wanna be pretty for you.”

his fingers reached further up, fiddling with the lettering on the hem of your panties as he pressed a searing hot kiss to your lips.

“my pretty girl. got me all worked up now, you know that? can’t even take you to my room,” the grumble in his voice was only half-serious, knowing full well that he planned to ruin you right there on top of the bathroom counter. “will you let me have my way with you right here, pretty?”

you simply nodded, too overwhelmed in your lust for the boy in front of you that words failed you. he cupped your face in his soft hands, pressing his lips firmly against your own, and an embarrassing whimper fell from your throat. how had you been together for bordering on two years, but even a simple kiss had you melting under his fingertips?

you didn’t know how or when your panties ended up strewn on the bathroom floor, or when jaeyun had pulled down the top of your dress, your tits spilling out so prettily as he mouthed at them - but you couldn’t complain. not when you felt budding marks blooming across your skin, nor when he pulled you closer so your hips sat flush to each other and his cock aching in his pants pressed against you so deliciously.

while one of your hands was wandering lower, pressing between your bodies to try and get a grip on jake’s belt buckle, the other was wrapped in strands of his hair, the feeling of his lips leaving a fiery wake on your skin being both too much and not enough. he was panting and allowing little whines to leave his lips as you tugged on his roots - something you discovered that he thoroughly enjoyed quite early into your relationship.

almost as if he didn’t want to - which he probably didn’t in all honesty - he finally pulled himself away from your chest enough to help you unbuckle his trousers and lower them, along with his boxers, just enough so his cock could spring out of its confines. he was so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if it was bordering on uncomfortable, and you wanted nothing more than for him to bully himself inside you and fill you up only the way he could - so, so perfectly.

you spat on your hand before stroking his length, the boy in front of you slightly jolting at the sudden stimulation. although, as much as he wanted nothing more than to be buried inside your walls, he also seemed keen on the idea of teasing you, causing you to groan and throw your head back in frustration.

“please, baby. need you in me. won’t you fuck me, jakey, please?” you put on your best puppy-dog eyes in hopes of swaying him, and in one swift movement he hooked an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him as he eased inside your tight hole.

“fuck, angel. haven’t i fucked you good enough, huh? still so tight after all this time, its almost like your pretty pussy’s suffocating me.”

you keened at his words, head falling forward to rest against his shoulder as he began shallowly thrusting into you. you were well aware that jake was particularly endowed, but somehow it managed to catch you off guard every time he sheathed his entire length inside you. you’d never felt so full, and it was addicting. in fact, everything he did was addicting.

the way he rolled his pelvis into yours had you drooling onto his costume, your eyes rolling into the back of your head in a way beyond your control. maybe it was the alcohol in your systems, or the fact you were fucking in the bathroom of his frat house, but you swore jake had you seeing stars faster than ever before.

anyone who stood too close to the bathroom door would be fully aware of what was going on, the sound slapping sounds and moans echoing off the tiled walls easily overpowering the loud bass of the music for anyone in a close enough proximity. you slung both arms around his neck, tears welling up in your eyes at how good he was making you feel.

but then, a knock on the door caught you off guard, jake’s hand slamming over your mouth - he didn’t want anyone else to hear your pretty calls of his name, and he was sure he could get rid of whoever was outside the door easily.

“yeah? kinda busy in here, sorry!” jake called out through gritted teeth, his cock never stopping its assault on your gummy walls. his eyes were screwed tightly shut, and you couldn’t help but move his hand from your mouth and run your tongue over the veins popping out on his neck, collecting all the sweat on your tongue. it was so hot, the idea of one of his frat brothers catching you in the act.

“jake? bro, is that you?” suddenly jake’s hips stilled inside you, both of you in utter disbelief, not wanting to recognize the voice on the other side of the door that your eyes were glued to. “sorry, man, i’m looking for (y/n), have you seen her?”

you gasped, not expecting jake to shallowly start thrusting into you again, the fact that your brother was standing on the other side of a plank of wood doing nothing to fend off his impending orgasm.

“i dunno, man. have you asked the others? i’ll talk to you once i’m finished in here.” he groaned, heeseung letting out an amused laugh when he finally caught on to jake’s x-rated activities.

“yeah sure, bro. make sure you clean up after yourself, yeah?”

as soon as heeseung’s voice had quietened and you were sure he had walked away, jake’s grip on your hips became tighter as he pulled you into a bruising kiss and began pistoning his hips in and out of you at an animalistic pace.

you couldn’t stop the loud whines and moans from falling from your lips, gripping onto his biceps to try and support the way you were wobbling on the counter. you couldn’t believe how keen he was, especially after talking to your brother while his cock was buried in your walls.

“jake- oh, fuck– jakey, he’s gonna find out– hnn–” the knot in your abdomen was growing tighter and tighter by the second, and you were sure you looked a mess of drool and running makeup by now. but jake didn’t stop. instead he attached his lips back to your neck, mumbling against the skin.

“don’t care. just need to feel you cum around me. can figure out everything else later.”

and for once, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. jake’s fingers fumbled as he reached down to rub your clit, the extra stimulation hurling you right to the edge of your release. between his lips, his fingers, his cock, you couldn’t hold yourself back or give him any warning. your orgasm hit you like a brick wall, your body stiffening and walls clamping down on jake’s length like a vice.

you practically saw white, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth in a wide “o” as the waves of pleasure rolling through your body all the way to your soul. jake cursed, almost whimpering as he pulled his length out of you.

“sorry, baby. can’t fill you up, tonight.” he groaned, fisting his cock harshly and allowing his load to release all over your exposed abdomen. heavy pants filled the room, your hands on jake’s shoulders as he gripped the counter either side of you body while you tried to catch your breath.

silently, he pulled himself away to get some tissue, cleaning himself up and tucking his softening length back into his pants, before running a face cloth under the bathtub faucet.

“gonna clean you up, okay, pretty girl? just sit there and be good for me.” he murmured before bringing the towel down to your folds, gently wiping away the remains of your activity. he was always extra cautious about aftercare, painfully aware of where you were most sensitive before you even figured it out. he then helped you down off of the counter, telling you to go pee while he cleaned the counter - which, being his good girl, of course you did.

“now, act normal, okay? go sit by sunoo’s room, and i’ll go find heeseung and tell him i found you there.” he smiled softly, peppering kisses all over your face as you giggled. “you sure you can walk okay?”

you nodded, a blush spreading on your cheeks before tapping his butt gently.

“yes, i promise. now unlock the door before someone thinks i got kidnapped.”

“nah, you’d bore them to death talking about twilight. they’d give you back to me within an hour.” he joked, chuckled as you feigned offense and gently slapped his chest. he unlocked the door, opening it enough to slip out and pull you out with him, but he didn’t go as far as you thought he would. for some reason, he came to a dead stop almost instantly without warning you, and you ended up slamming straight into his back.

“ouch, jake, what the fuck–” but your words were cut short as you peered around him and were met with the figure of your brother standing across the hall, phone in one hand and a drink in the other, staring straight at you. “ah, shit.”

heeseung didn’t say a single word as he approached, barely looking you in the eye until he walked past you. “i think we need to talk, don’t we? i’ll meet you in the den.” and with that, he simply walked away.

heeseung’s emotions were hard to read at the best of times, but he was certainly hiding how he felt well in that moment. you looked up at jake, only to be met with his terrified face and his grip on your hand tightening slightly.

silently, you sighed and began leading him towards the den, where your brother would be waiting. whatever happened in there, you would stand your ground. you were hopelessly in love with jake, and if heeseung didn’t like it - well, he would just have to suck it up. he’d come around eventually, of course, but there was no way in hell you were leaving the love of your life purely because your brother told you to.

you softly pressed a kiss to jake’s cheek before walking into the den, as requested by heeseung. honestly, you were ready to go in all guns blazing, and you were never opposed to yelling at your brother if it meant he’d listen to you. when you entered, jake trailing behind you, heeseung was already sat on a beanbag, face unreadable.

jake, somehow, had the courage - or, maybe stupidity - to go and sit on the beanbag opposite heeseung, but you chose to stay standing with your arms folded over your chest.

“whatever you have to say, seung, just say it and get it over with. i’m not in the mood for a lecture.”

finally, heeseung pulled his gaze to you, but still, his expression was utterly unreadable. his eyes drifted over to jake before coming back to you, and you were more than relieved when he finally spoke.

“please just sit down, (n/n). i’m not going to lecture you, i swear.”

you huffed, avoiding his eyes as you plopped yourself into the beanbag next to jake. speaking of which, jake looked like he was about to vomit. his hands were almost rigid at his side, and if you couldn’t see the slight movement of his shoulders you would’ve probably thought he wasn’t breathing.

you had to stop yourself from taking jake’s hands in yours to comfort him - if heeseung kicked off over it, you weren’t sure how jake would take it, and you didn’t want to wind your brother up even more.

the room was eerily silent for a while; too long, for your liking.

you almost thought heeseung had lost his mind when he started smiling, assuming he was taking joy from yours and jake’s apparent fear. in fact, you could’ve sworn you hadn’t seen such a smile on his face since the day you told him that you’d been accepted to HybeU.

“god, you guys are so cute. did you really think i hadn’t picked up on it by now? i basically shipped you from the start.”

suddenly all the air came back into the room, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“you knew? hyung, but– i thought you would’ve killed me if you knew!” jake seemed to be absolutely flabbergasted by this new information, and you weren’t in a much better state. had he feigned ignorance to see how long you could keep up the charade? had he faked his annoyance when he caught you, just to see you squirm?

“hee, how long have you known?” was all you could ask before your brother shrugged, as if he hadn't admitted something major the second before.

“i’ve known since the start. everyone except you guys knew that i knew, we all kind of had a bet going to see how long it would last before you told me…. i won, by the way. i gathered you’d wait until after your graduation.”

you spluttered as jake’s face turned beetroot red, unable to comprehend what heeseung was saying.

“listen, i’m not mad. i get it. you both thought i’d be mad, so you hid it. actually, it was kind of funny hearing you sneak jake into the house during the holidays, or watching him park down the street so i wouldn’t see him picking you up.”

you sat with heeseung a while longer, him gladly answering the bombard of questions that you and jake had for him. and slowly, you became more comfortable being touchy with jake in front of him. jake’s hand ended up on your thigh, which you ended up taking in your own. then, your legs were slung over his lap while he had an arm around your shoulder. yeah, heeseung fake gagged when jake kissed your cheek, but you knew it was all in good heart given the smile of your brother’s face.

in all honesty, heeseung was just glad you had someone to look after you. someone to love you as much as jake clearly did. he knew he couldn’t keep you wrapped up, protected from the world forever, but he truly couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend for you than jake.

eventually, you all went back to the party, deciding to enjoy the last few hours of fun before everyone had to leave and head back to their own dorms.

with a drink in your hand, and your arms around jake’s waist, you’d never felt happier. it was actually quite liberating, knowing that your brother knew and approved of your relationship, and you were grateful that you were blessed with a brother as good as heeseung.

swaying to your favorite song with jake’s arms around you, and your heart thumping in your chest, you leaned up to plant a soft kiss on his face. he grinned, returning the kiss and leant his head against yours.

“what was that for, bubba?”

“nothing in particular,” you admitted, shaking your head slightly. “just love you, that’s all.”

“i love you too, angel girl.”

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