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#SO THAT MEANS that if he can make a camera like that. he owns a camera like that and he can set up a timer to take the photo or something
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Fingertips - OP81
Summary: Oscar's fingertips only have to brush her skin for her to find him stuck to her like a magnet.
No part 2 requests please
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The soft feeling of Oscar's fingertips dancing on her skin, having slid under her t-shirt as he feels her shift to reach for her phone. He always tries to discourage her from being on her phone first thing, so feeling herself dragged back away from reaching distance of her phone, she laughs feeling his arms wrap around her tightly, pinning her own around her in doing so.
"Oscar...you're crushing me." Y/n whines through a laugh making him hum but really he's completely unbothered as he nuzzles into her neck.
Oscar isn't always the easiest man to wake up in the morning, he prefers to keep her close and holds her as closely as possible. Like she's a teddy bear, his comfort coming solely from her.
Eventually he's eased from his depth of sleep and loosens his hold on her just enough for her to roll over and face him properly.
"You're so pretty in the morning." Oscar smiles making her look at him, wrinkling her nose at the suggestion she could possibly look good right now. "You are. Don't insult my girlfriend by saying you're not."
"I am you're girlfriend, and I can say what I like about myself." Y/n smiles poking his ribs watching him smile before she begins to sit up and make a weak attempt at getting up from the bed. "Can I get up yet?"
"No."
"Ok, fine by me." Y/n laughs feeling his fingers drawing shapes on her skin though she frowns for a second. "Are you drawing hearts?"
His hand still very suddenly making her laugh before she looks at him with a grin.
-
Oscar's public image isn't usually the most affectionate man, sure people think he looks at Lando like he wears a halo. But really that's nothing compared to the way he looks at her.
Although half of the time when he knows she's about and he wants to find her, he looks very much like a lost puppy.
Today it's happened and be caught on camera both by media and by fans alike. Even by Lando at one point for the McLaren team account.
Oscar walks through the paddock having left the garage after a rushed debrief after quick qualifying thanks to him getting caught in traffic and taken out in Q1. For some reason he's itching to see her and when he finds her doing on the McLaren communal seats it only takes the lightest touch for her to sit up and let him slide onto the sofa before she lies back down.
"Why didn't you come to the garage?" Oscar mumbles making her frown lightly at him.
"You told me to watch from here, I only started to fall asleep because you had gone out. I was waiting for you." Y/n states earning hum feeling his fingers playing with strands of her hair. "It's one qualifying, it doesn't mean anything."
"Tell that to the fans and media who will rip into me."
"Hey. You own up to your mistakes, it's not like you're sitting here having a party about your Q1 exit. You're not happy." Y/n frowns then sitting up properly and shifting so her legs are tossed over his lap. "Don't beat yourself up before you've even seen what people are saying."
"Well, if you're not going to be harsh on me, one of us has to." Oscar smiles pulling her up entirely onto his lap as he seems to nuzzle his face into her neck, breathing in the perfume he thinks he's addicted to.
"Keep it PG, this is a public area." Lando jokes appearing with Zak as through walk into the shared space and y/n looks up with a smile while Oscar just remains hidden.
"Don't worry mate, everyone's all had bad qualis." Zak states making y/n shoot him a grateful smile as she rubs Oscar's back. "Get yourself home and just see that you're rested up for tomorrow."
"You heard the boss. We're free to go." Y/n smiles standing up and finding Oscar almost clinging to her, arms wrapping around her as he stands up matching her speed.
Even Lando and Zak seem shocked by Oscar's clinginess to his girlfriend. But she doesn't even worry about the looks getting Oscar to his drivers' room, grabbing his stuff and walking out, hands linked with each other's as they do so.
By the time they get to the hotel again, Oscar's all but climbing inside of her.
"Sad or just tired?" Y/n questions earning a tsk from the driver.
"Neither, I just love my girlfriend and I always want to be with her." Oscar grumbles making her laugh a little before she sighs and looks at him for a moment. "I don't know what's wrong with me...I feel like I always want you around even when I'm supposed to be working or doing something important where you can't be around."
"I'm not complaining." Y/n hums which earns her a sharp look up. "Oscar...you realise I feel the same. I hate being away from you. It sucks. It doesn't mean there's something wrong with you."
"You mean it?" Oscar mumbles watching her smile.
"I'm pretty sure most girls would hack of a leg to hear a man say he thinks there's something wrong with them because they actually miss their girlfriend and want to be around her. Of course I mean it." Y/n tsks before sighing and running her hand through his hair. "I love you."
'I love you too."
-
Getting time off with Oscar, y/n is honestly so happy to just be involved in his time off and spending it how he seems to be eager about it.
"What are you wearing?" Oscar mumbles making her look at him.
It's freezing out in England right now. Spring time is a lie here and summer is definitely not on it's way.
"Why? We're not going anywhere." Y/n laughs only to find him looking at her as he pulls on her joggers, tucking the socks.
It's not that cold in his apartment but even just the atmosphere of England gives a chill.
Oscar doesn't answer verbally instead leaving her to watch him pull on a matching outfit earning a grin before she sighs and climbs onto him, laughing a little when he holds her legs keeping them around his waist.
"You are the cutest, neediness boyfriend ever. But I think you might've just made me decide there is not a single day in my life I'm going to be able to live without you acting like this from now on."
Oscar hums carrying her into the living room where he very much nestles into her. At some point while she's distracted by watching a very attention grabbing episode of Unsolved Mysteries, he manages to practically climb under his her hoodie, smushing his face into her tummy and just keeping his head tucked under the material.
He doesn't even fall asleep, just happy to be there. There is some amusement and suppressed laughs at the gurgling sound of her tummy under his head but honestly he's more focused on being able to hear her heart being.
It sounds stupid that it brings him a type of comfort that he's never felt before with anyone else.
"Hey, you good in there?" Y/n laughs lifting the neck hole to look down at him under the hoodie.
Oscar can't even hide his grin as he looks up at y/n then tucking his head back down to it's previous position.
"Yes, I think we should stay like this forever."
"That's fine with me. Even if you must be bored with your view blocked."
"No, I'm listening to it all. It's quite peaceful."
"Alright...whatever you say, my little koala." Y/n hums before she reaches a hand down to gently rub his back.
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privitivium · 20 hours
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ok but how about a dom reader whos always busy (workaholic and shi) x an always clingy n touchy sub yan.
like. reader is never at home. and when he finally come back ends up doesn't paying that much attention to yan, sayin 'im too tired' or going to his home office. eventually being followed by yan cause omfg poor boy is basically starving for a little bit of attention. he still declines yan's pleadings tho
then one day this man shows up earlier and completely EAGER for his yan. idk what more can i say. breeding? degradation? daddy kink? dumbification? what could happen when theyre feeling so fucking needy for each other?
(also i love your writing so so much!!!!!!! <3
workaholic male reader, clingy sub yandere ^ rambles. euugh
dumbification works w either imo, reader fucking lover til hes stupid while simultaneously fucking his lover stupid?!
amab//domtop reader/subbot yandere, cw;; breeding, daddy kink, dumbification xd wanna rework this into a more ,,, eloquent fic. soon. have been busy. i really liked this idea so. will do on my own soon.
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workaholic you, growing super distant… obviously making your lover paranoid. because what if you're cheating on him? you aren't, of course - he knows that, but he cant stop those kinds of thoughts from popping into his mind…!!! humping your pillow to ease himself while ur at work, watching the camera feed of you in your office… sigh…. often hearing the dreaded words accompanied by a soft simple pat on his back - not even a kiss... "sorry... please, baby, not right now. i'm too tired." he sobs himself to sleep, knowing you're only providing for him,,,, it hurts!!!
all his worries wash away when you arrive home earlier than usual! concerned, but all the more happy to see you appear in the doorway of your home… breathing ragged, looking all dark and mysterious,,,, the mere sight of you looking all deranged makes him hot and bothered. ignoring the way his dick twitches to life, uhmㅡ
"honey? why are you home so early, sweetheart?” draping himself across your front in a very affectionate hug. he couldnt help himself-! and, much to his delight you were not pushing him awayㅡand practically throwing yourself onto him?!?! hh..h.hh...
there you were,,, grasping his face in your hands, pressing your lips against his so hungrilyㅡ “i need youㅡneed you. need you.” expressing your apparent neediness over and over as you bury your face in the crook of his neck ㅡ he was startled, but so fucking eager to comply? feeling the way your boner presses against him? you were that eager for him just as he is you???,,,,, he nearly faints. tearing up with a now raging erectionㅡ “please, baby, i need you - i need you reallyㅡreally badly-” so fucking happy as he completely smothers you in his love,,,
you don't need to tell him twice,,, throwing the front door closed…,,, leading him to the bedroom, covering his face in kissesㅡeven when there was a perfectly good couch right there to make love on. he won't complain,,,, hes gotten used to the null feeling of toys...,,, so, feeling the very loving embrace of your dick filling him up overstimulates him rather.,,, quickly!!! thinking about how truly awful you are to neglect this pretty litte thing, how could you? so, so very awful.
your darling little lover sobbing on your cock… he's so beautiful - experiencing his love and affection for the first time in forever? berating yourself for being so distant,,, pouring all your frustration at yourself into his flexing taut hole,,,, “mm-misssed you… s-so mu-uch daddy-!” he doesn't seem to catch what he just moaned… too drunk on the feeling of your cock pistoning in and out of him - it feels otherwordly?!
and, i mean. going along with it. with ease, because he deserves everything. especially, anything for your darling lover who just wants affection, your love!!! laughing breathlessly as you piston your hips against his, nuzzling your nose into the side of his head - peppering his face in kisses, “daddy's right here, sweet thing - n-never leaving again, y'hear?” it was… a little odd, but fitting. afterall, you're pumping load after load - breeding him. obviously you'd be the daddy in this situation…,,,,
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Can I ask why you don’t like Vil much? If you haven’t answered that already?
For me, I also didn’t like him at first but loving Rook has turned me into a Vil lover 😭.
[Referencing this tier list!]
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A significant part of it is no fault of Vil's own, it's just... I have a very strong aversion to celebrity characters. This dislike scales up the more famous that celebrity character is + how much attention is brought to their status, and well... Y'all know perfectly well how famous Vil is 🤡 This is why I also dislike his father to some degree, though it's to a lesser extent because I at least appreciate Eric being involved in his son’s life + find Eric to be friendly.
Celebrity characters tend to make me feel deeply uncomfortable chiefly because their careers put them in a position where they're ripe for parasocialism (which is when one party, ie their fans, extends emotional energy, interest and time, and the other party, the persona, ie the object of their affection, is completely unaware of the other's existence). Parasocialism in of itself is not a negative thing by default; it can, in fact, be a powerful motivator to improve oneself or can significantly lift one's mood. Some sectors entirely rely on parasocialism to function (such as the "influencing" industry).
Where it starts to get iffy for me is when we veer into the most parasocial of fans who will take extreme actions to support and/or hate on an individual. These are your stalkers, your sasaeng fans, etc. While I'm aware that these are the vocal minority of a celebrity's fanbases, the kinds of things these extremely parasocial fans pull off deeply unnerves me. Like Vil, the celebrities involved are by no means at fault—but they’re always “tainted” in my mind by the association due to the sheer magnitude of what their most crazed fans do in their name 💀 So when I think of that celebrity… I also think of the insane stuff they have to deal with from their fans and that stresses me out.
I find the whole “celebrity worship” culture in of itself very odd. It’s difficult for me to form an attachment to a real person that doesn’t or cannot reciprocate. By extension, it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around activities like following the celebrity’s life closely, supporting any and all projects due to their involvement alone, and collecting merch/signatures. Thinking of Vil’s fans doing this… (or, as seen in the Tapis Rouge event, getting emotional/shrieking for him, begging for a glance, fainting, etc.) it invokes those feelings of discomfort again.
Finally (regarding the celebrity thing), Vil and other famous people tend to be in the spotlight. I don’t really like this sort of a presentation; it calls too much attention to them. This runs counter to the types of characters I tend to gun for: the schemers who operate from the shadows, typically appearing innocuous or humble at first glance. These characters stay out of the spotlight and prefer it that way, as it allows them more freedoms to enact their plots. Celebrities’ positions don’t really allow for that. Even if their off-camera persona is completely different than their on-camera one, the attention they’re showered with never seems to fade.
I also find Vil’s entire presence way too intense (even when he’s lined up next to arguably much more physically imposing students like the 180 cm+ squad or any muscular character). This is why I can tolerate Neige but dislike Vil; Neige comes off as innocent and approachable—so much so that I don’t even register him as an idol or a celebrity in my mind. He’s just a cute boy-next-door type inviting me to dance and sing with him and his friends!
Vil’s hair, makeup, tall heels, the need for perfection, his sternness. It’s a LOT to take in. I can admire the confidence and the tenacity with which Vil pursues beauty, but at the same time… it can come off as super overwhelming. I don’t think I could comfortably breathe in the same space as him without feeling like I’ve offended his sensibilities 😅 Sometimes I get a little anxious just reading him scolding others; it feels like he’s reaching through the screen and scolding me too. I get the overwhelming vibes even through the things Vil creates or commissions; the composition and choreography of Absolutely Beautiful was so oppressive and centered on winning that I disassociated from my own school’s team 💀
Some other minor, miscellaneous gripes I have with Vil:
I don’t generally have a problem with Vil’s leadership or how he guides/teaches others. (His behavior is very similar to what I’ve experienced within my own culture’s upbringing.) However, I do not approve of all of his methods and I do think he does “too much” at times + oversteps, making me feel uneasy.
His tastes don’t really match mine! It’s a little too “glam”, especially the ensembles with heavy smoky eyes.
What’s with him dying the ends of his hair that color… It makes me think of him dunking his head in grape Kool-aid as a dye 😭/j
There we are ^^ I hope that explanation was sufficient!! I tried to explain my… admittedly complex feelings behind my dislike of Vil as neatly as I could. Nothing against the guy, how he is written, or his fans (both in-universe and irl), of course!! This is just my opinion.
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⎯ STOCKHOLM. christopher bahng chan
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🎧 : bang chan x female reader
TROPE. age gap! au (chan is 37, reader is 18), kidnapper x kidnapped
WORD COUNT. 2.5k
WARNINGS. drinking, mentions of drugs, illegal activities, nineteen-year age gap, kidnapping, reader falls in love with her kidnapper, sadism + masochism
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SYNOPSIS. on the morning of january first, y/n wakes up chained to a wall, stripped to her undergarments, and a camera pointed right at her. strangely enough, behind the camera is what looks like a harmless, friendly, incredibly attractive man. as y/n and the mysterious Bang Chan begin to learn more about each other, y/n finds herself succumbing to stockholm syndrome: falling in love with her very own kidnapper
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SMUT WARNINGS. sadism + masochism, use of vibrator, some non-con themes, sextape making, overstimulation + edging, corruption kink, exhibitionism, dumbification kink
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As your eyes opened, you expected to wake up somewhere you didn't know. You were absolutely wasted the night before - New Year's Eve - and you had been almost one-hundred percent sure you would wake up in someone else's bed. However, you hadn't imagined that you would wake up with shackles around your ankles and wrists, keeping you tight against a concrete wall in a cold room that somewhat resembled your great-grandmother's basement.
You're flabbergasted, to say the last. In all of your years getting drunk and fucking random people, you had never been kidnapped. And either this guy was really fucking kinky, or you had been kidnapped.
You suspect the latter, seeing the tape recorder set up on a tripod in front of you, facing you. As you survey your surroundings, you also take in your attire - completely nude, spare for your lacy white bra and matching panties, complete with a small white bow.
"Morning."
You look up, startled at the handsome guy that you hadn't noticed enter the room.
"Y/N, right? I'm not sure I caught your name last night."
You vaguely remember his face as one of the guys you had danced with the night before, letting him grind up against you and grope your body to the beat of the music. You nod at him.
"Do you know why you're here, Y/N?"
You shake your head, staying silent.
"I find you quite beautiful, actually." The man has a thick Australian accent, one you're sure you remember from the party. "Really, a work of art. An ass to kill for, and apparently, unmatched intelligence."
"That's just a rumor," you say finally.
"Ahhhh, she speaks. You have such a pretty voice, sweetie." He sends you a dimpled smile. "I really don't think it is, though. Your IQ is three higher than that of Albert Einstein. Do you know what that means, sweetheart?"
You watch him, waiting for an answer.
"It means you are a certified genius." The man's smile drops. "This is why you've peaked my interest."
"'Cause I'm good at taking tests?" you ask softly.
He shakes his head. "Much more than that. I want to pick your brain apart, pretty girl. I wanna find out what makes you tick." Then, he smiles again, wickedly. "But more than that, I want to humiliate and violate you in ways you wouldn't have thought possible."
So that's what he is, you think to yourself. A psycho with a god complex.
"Do you think I can do that?" he asks.
"Do what?"
"Everything I just said."
"Yes I do."
He tilts his head at me. "Giving in so easy?"
"What else should I do?"
He moves closer to you, taking your chin in his hand and examining your face. "I suppose you're right."
You watch him, utterly stunned at how fucking exquisite your kidnapper's appearance is.
He backs away from you now, moving behind the tape recorder. He repositions it so that it's trained on you, then turns the viewing component of it so that you can see yourself, dangling helplessly and half-naked from the wall. "I'm going to start, yes?"
You nod slowly. You know that fighting whatever this man was about to do to you would be futile, so you waited and watched, eyelashes fluttering.
He retrieves a knife from a table of dangerous-looking utensils off to your left, returning to you.
"What should I call you?" you ask him suddenly, dreading the feel of the knife tracing your skin.
"Chris," he says simply. "In Korea, they call me Chan. Here they call me Chris."
"Chris? Or Chan? Which do you prefer?"
He tilts his head, as if puzzled by the question. "I'm not sure."
"I like Chan. It suits your face."
"Does it now?"
You nod, humming a "yes."
Chan's lips quirk up in a half-smile, and you find yourself smiling back. "First things first," he says after a moment, "I need to mark you."
"Mark me?"
He nods. "It won't hurt long, love." He moves around you, to your left side, and grasps your thigh gently. You bite back a gasp, watching as he lifts the knife. It's digging into your skin before you can protest, drawing a thin line of scarlet over the plush skin. You register in your mind it hurts, but it fascinates you to watch, taking your thoughts off the pain and onto the beauty of the letters that he's now carved into your leg. B.C., in small, pretty writing right in the middle of your thigh.
"Painful?" he asks, moving back to the table to the side and retrieving some sort of paper towel, returning to you and gently dabbing at the blood.
You blink. "A little."
"You didn't scream," he says.
"I didn't."
"I wish you would have."
"Would you like me to now?"
"No, sweetheart, don't force it."
You're surprised at how easy this conversation comes to you. This man just cut his initials into your thigh, and all you could think about were his pretty dimples and crinkly eyes.
"Where are you from?" you ask.
Chan looks up at you. "You baffle me," he says, examining you. Then, "I was born in Seoul, but I grew up in Sydney." He pauses. "You?"
You tell him where you were born, surprised at how intently he listened to you.
"I like hearing you speak," he says. "Your voice is beautiful."
You stay quiet, unsure what to think.
"I bet your screams would be beautiful too." A mischievous expression flits across his face. "You know what I bet would be the most beautiful of all?" He leans in close to you, so that his lips are right next to your ear. "Your moans."
You blink dumbly up at him.
"Look at you." He cradles your cheek in his hand, watching you with a bittersweet expression. "Intelligence already crumbling. I thought you'd last longer, sweetie."
You're tongue-tied, both disgusted and turned on by the sadistic words.
He pats your cheek once, twice, then turns away. "I'll be back later to bring you dinner, and a fun little toy."
"What am I supposed to do until then?" you ask quickly, desperate for him not to leave you. As much as you don't want to be down here with him, you even less want to be down here without him.
He shrugs. "You'll find something." Then he pauses. "Actually . . . would you like your toy early, hmm?"
You nod slowly. Chan retreats from the room, returning a few minutes later with a white box. He opens it, inside awaiting what looked like a vibrator. Nope, scratch that, it was a vibrator.
You swallow, looking at it, and Chan grins at you. "The best form of torture is too much pleasure, don't you agree, sweetie?"
You swallow hard, finding yourself nodding nervously.
Chan moves back over to you, stepping gracefully, and smiles. "For the next three hours, this is going to be attached directly to your clit."
You only stare at him.
He begins by removing your panties, then your bra, leaving you completely bare for him, and for the tape recorder.
"Pretty pussy," he mumbles, as though to himself. He leans forward, using one finger to spread your lower lips and another to prod around your private area, poking gently into your hole, then around your clit. Finally, he stops, bringing up the vibrator and configuring it so that the head stayed directly on your clit. He gently turns it on, watching as you gasp a little.
"Three hours," he says, tapping his wrist, then turning the vibrator to the highest setting. "I'll see you, pretty girl."
The moment the door is closed, unable to bite back the noises produced from this torturous device.
Three hours later, you've passed out four times, came at least twenty, and are shaking, dripping sweat, and sobbing. Your clit burns with too many sensations, and your stomach convulses violently with every buzz being emitted into your core.
When Chan reenters the room, he carries with him a plate of food. He sets it down quickly upon seeing your ragged state, mouth open slightly as he watches you.
You hardly notice him enter, buzzing with too many sensations. You only snap back to reality when you hear a shutter flick in front of you, and you find that he's taken a Polaroid photo of you.
He stays silent, listening to you whimper as the film develops. When it's complete, he turns off the vibrator, and you slump in your shackles. You feel him unlock your ankles, then your wrists, and you drop to your knees on the floor, still shaking vigorously.
Chan kneels beside you, brushing your hair from your face and soothingly thumbing your cheek. "Tired?"
You nod.
"Too tired to eat?"
You nod again.
"No you're not." He stands, retrieving the plate of food he brought with him. On it is what looks like a rather appetizing piece of chicken, salad, and small bowl of pasta. "Eat."
"What if I don't want to?"
"I'll force feed it to you."
You can't tell if he's joking, so you shakily take a bite. You struggle as you pick up your fork, and Chan takes it from you exasperatedly. "Let me," he says. He gathers a bit of salad on the fork, taps your jaw for you to open your mouth, and puts it in. You close your mouth, letting the lettuce fall onto your tongue, eyes locked with his.
"I'm sorry," you find yourself saying.
"Why?"
"I'm shaking."
"That's not your fault, is it?"
You shake your head.
"Then why are you sorry? Hmm?"
You shrug as he puts another bite of salad in your mouth.
The two of you stay silent for the rest of the meal. That night, he doesn't reshackle you, but locks the door behind him. The next day, he returns. At least, you assume it's the next day. You're not sure how much time has passed since you've woken up in this dank room. He'll come for a few hours in the morning, then leave for a few hours, then return for a few more. Each time he returns, he asks about you. As if he truly wants to get to know you, instead of killing you. He continues torturous ministrations, destroying your body and your mind in one. And somehow, you hardly mind.
Finally, on the evening of what you can guess is the ninth day, he returns as usual, bringing with him a meal.
He watches you eat, tongue in his cheek. "I'd like to bring you upstairs today."
You pause to stare at him. "Up . . . upstairs?"
He nods. "You should shower, before you stink any more."
You look down. "It's not exactly that sanitary down here."
"I'm well aware. That's why I'm bringing you up. I quite like you, honestly. So I'd like to propose to you an offer."
"An offer?"
"An offer. An exchange, I suppose. Your freedom for your service."
"Go on."
"You will marry me. You will be presented as my wife, and you will act as such in the public eye. In private, you are mine. You're my slave - my belonging."
"I just have to stay with you?" You look up at him. You're smart enough to know that even seeing the sunshine for a day being married to a kidnapper would be better than rotting down here until he eventually decided he'd had enough and kill you. Your mind was made up, but you were curious.
"Yes, love. I'm fond of you, actually."
Fond of me. You ponder this. "Okay . . . I'll do it. First, though, I have a question."
"Shoot."
"How old are you?"
Chan looks down. "I'm thirty-seven."
"Oh."
He nods. "You?"
"Eighteen." You meet his eyes.
"So young and fragile." Chan traces his fingers over your cheek. "So much to corrupt, hmm?"
You nod.
"Come on, you need to shower."
You let him bring you upstairs. You leave the basement into a small house. The walls are pretty pastels, decorated with plants and paintings of all varieties. Chan brings you away from the main floor, up another flight of stairs to what you can guess is his bedroom. It's neat and tidy, and an open door off to your right is your best guess at a bathroom.
He brings you into the bathroom, letting you strip out of the clothes he gave you a few days before, after finally giving in to your begging for warmth. You jump a little as he starts to remove his shirt. "What are you doing?"
"Stripping. I'm joining you."
"Um, why?"
"'Cause I'm not letting you off yourself with a razor in my shower."
"I wasn't gonna off myself with a razor in your shower."
"How do I know that?"
You watch him, deciding not to argue. The water is already on, steaming up the room, and his skin glistens with every movement. You avert your eyes from his dick, but you can see its general shape in your peripheral vision. Huge.
He pulls you into the shower by your waist, stepping in behind you. He'd seen you naked before, but something about this close proximity and steamy room felt so much more intimate than the hours of sextapes he had filmed of you.
Chan helps you wash your hair, then your body. His touch lingers over your curves, rubbing you in a way that you didn't know was possible. It's only moments after that you find yourself hoisted up, legs tucked around his waist, hands running through his hair, head tipped back as his lips attach to your neck.
"Do you promise to be mine?" he whispers into your jaw, teeth grazing your Adam's apple.
"I promise," you say desperately, watching him with hooded eyes.
He pushes inside you with no warning, already rock hard. You feel the tip of his member kissing your cervix, pressing in just the right ways against your walls. He kisses you hard, pushing you against the wall of the shower. Chan is thrusting inside you slowly, mouth struggling to stay attached to yours as the two of you are overwhelmed by emotions and sensations.
You cum at the same time as him, coaxing every last drop of cum from his cock.
You collapse into him, shaking as you come down from your high. He holds you gently, turning off the water and helping you out of the shower. He's wordless as he wraps a warm towel around you, kissing your forehead as he dries you, then himself, then helps you to his bed.
"Just sleep, love," he tells you softly. "I'll wake you up in the morning."
The next morning, Chan is beside you, sleeping soundly. For some reason, you're comforted by the sight. The man who kidnapped you nine days ago - who would have thought you'd be madly in love with him by the end of it all.
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TAGLIST ⎯
@jisunglyricist @hash2013 let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!!
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gumm1defloor · 1 day
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Seriously this has been fucking me up for ages ever since the episode came out Valentino just what the fuck is this supposed to be I need to know if this means we're going to see his live performances in future seasons this is genuinely driving me senile:
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We know this is not just a private photo shoot he has laying around in the building. This is an actual promo being displayed in the streets of hell for random pedestrians to ogle at (smack dab next to a separate advertisement of his own employee which is certainly a choice), so we know this event most certainly not an exclusive one and is marketed directly towards the masses in hell. Which begs the question:
What the hell is this meant to promote??? We know it's a live performance, and since it's Valentino we can safely assume the performance is going to be at least somewhat sexual in nature but that still does not give us any inkling as to what he will be doing in said live performance?? Is he singing? Dancing??? I assumed it's not the latter because I think his pose would presumably not be comfortably sitting (just what the hell is he sitting on that does not look like a chair) with his ass front facing the camera, hand on his thigh if it's that kind of show.
The poster also sort of implies he is going to be preforming whilst wearing his pimp outfit which just makes the whole thing even more confusing on top of everything else. the fact that he's sitting with his ass front facing the camera, hand on his thigh in his pimp outfit in the first place is already sending mildly mixed signals but maybe that's just me personally. Disregarding the possible theory that Valentino used to preform similar shows to this before he became an overlord, what is a show like this meant to accomplish exactly? Is it a celebration of the past? A way to recruit new followers? More audiences for his film products? Or a marketing strategy for the general image of the Vees themselves? And if so why is Valentino sitting with his ASS FRONT FACING-——
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coleskingdom · 3 days
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Lost in Translation
Will Ospreay x F Reader
Minors DNI 18+
@midwestmade29 @madhatterbri thanks for putting up with my Will fixation.
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“Thank God that’s over” Will relief showing in his tone. “However love what was that look you were giving me from behind the camera.” legs still spread in the chair, where they’d just finished filming. “ Did I say something wrong? “ his words held doubt and anxiety. “This is your dressing room for the day right?” as I walked towards the door. “ Yeah, but tell me what I did.” his voice slightly pleading. “ You only sat there looking like gods gift to women, talking about stroking a goat. It’s petting here in the states, stroking means something entirely different here.” Locking the door smiling as I walked back to him. “Christ, first my meme face and now this. At least it wasn’t something like the battle I started when I said grind.” his laughter filling the room he stood as I walked back to him.
The mischievous look in his eyes as he focuses on me. The scruff tickles my face as he leans in and kisses like he's intent on conquest, and I'm already claimed in one sweeping kiss. His kiss makes me feel painfully empty with a desire to be filled, hyper-aware of every inch of my body. Every part of me he isn't touching. Until his hands are on me, dragging me down on to the chair with him as if I weigh nothing, pulling me into his lap.
Until my ass is against his thighs and there's something hard and hungry and oh-so-thick pressing up against me, hot even through the fabric of his athletic pants , burning against the naked backs of my thighs. Until his arm is hard around my waist, caging me against the hardness of his body, giving me everything I need with the pleasure of his touch crushing against me. Until everywhere he touches me, pressed chest to chest, stomach to stomach, makes me aware of my senses, when he touches me my body comes alive under his hand.
He bites at my mouth, stinging and bruising and all delicious heat.
I bite right back. Fighting him, giving back need for need, kiss for kiss, lick for lick, nip for nip until we're a tangled mess of rushed breaths and grasping hands.
Tangling my fingers in his hair, I stroke back through his dirty blonde hair. He lets out a thrumming, feral growl against my lips before burying his face against my throat.He sensitizes my skin with the rasp of his beard, then ignites me again with kisses and gentle, slow bites trailing at my throat, following my pulse.
My gasps come low, at first, turning into startled cries as he lifts me, shifts me, his possessive, rough hands on my thighs.
Making them shake as he pulls them apart, repositions me, settles me down on his lap again until I'm straddling him.
Suddenly, this is so much more intimate.I'm wide open, my panties drenched and pushing up against sensitive, needy, wet-slicked flesh.
His hands dig into my ass, making that empty clutch in me, that need to be filled, pulse ten times harder.
He grabs at my shorts, handfuls of my flesh, and brings me down against him.
The pressure of his cock against his pants is almost fucking me, sliding and rubbing between my thighs, scorching my own wetness into me with heat and friction, and there's no escaping it when his body is so large between my legs that my inner thighs ache. It's the effort to span him, to straddle him, bared in all but name.
“Will we can’t here. We can go back to the hotel.” my words barely recognizable.
His answer cuts off my words burying his face against the low neckline of my tank top, dragging the delicious friction of his stubble over the upper curves of my breasts. He only pauses to dip his head, captures my nipple in his mouth, sucking and nibbling and teasing through my top and bra.
It's molten, the fabric trapping the wetness and heat of his mouth, slicking it against my skin.
His tongue that leave me writhing against him, rocking my hips, grinding myself against him greedily until I'm all, desperate need, completely stripped of my senses.
He makes a deep, satisfying sound with one last little lick, then lets go, looking up at me with those blue eyes smoldering.
"You were saying?" he growls. “Here, here is good.” I pant. He kisses me again - softer this time, a gentle thing that ends in a taunting nip, a promise. "Feel like being bad maybe breaking a few rules?"
I bite my lip, tasting him on it, then curl my fingers against his sweatshirt, gripping at the hem and tugging upward. His eyes brighten, then darken, and he leans back from me enough to grasp his shirt and pull it up over his head.
Every time my fingertips skim his shoulders, his chest, the ripples of his abdo-men, a shudder rolls tensely over his body. He's barely holding himself in check, breathing harder and harder, while every part of him I take in makes my body ache deeper and deeper.
Until my fingers stray down to his navel, that trail of tempting blonde hair, and lower. Will’s control snaps.
Suddenly, I'm tumbling on my back, spilled across the locker room floor. I almost laugh at the absurdity of the situation as he pins me.It’s the warmth and need and softness in those vivid blue eyes that cause me to shiver. His splayed fingers skim up my body, pushing the hem of my shirt up, taunting me with the his calloused fingers.
I suck in a breath as his hands rove higher, as he lifts the tank top over my breasts, baring me save for the barely-there bra cups that are no protection at all.
Not from his gaze. And not from the heavy, touch of a possessive hand curling against my breast, cupping and kneading my flesh against him, until I feel like putty in his hands.
A whimper slips out of me. I can't help but writhe, lifting myself up, eyes slipping half-closed as I bite my tongue on pleasure.
His knee braces against the floor between my thighs. Every time I move, I'm grinding myself against the hardness of his thigh.Struggling not to completely lose myself with every touch, every kiss, every heated glance.
I'm so weak for him. So shamefully weak, he strips what last strength I have as he lowers his body over me, licks his way up my stomach in sizzling trails, catches my bra cup in his teeth, and drags the lace down to bare me to him.
And to the kiss of his lips, as his mouth teases me once again with no buffering layer between us, pulling my hardened, tightening, tingling nipple into his mouth.
Desire shoots through me.
I'm so lost, such a mess, digging my fingers into his back, as I move against him. I don't even realize what he's doing until my shorts are open and suddenly there's the heat of hard, thick knuckles against tender skin, slipping down, exploring and brushing over my folds.
I can't stop my moan this time. It rips out of me, a sweet hot tremor as everything inside me clenches. His fingers well practiced as they glide down slow, knowing to find where I'm already wet. He has me in the palm of his hand.
He knows how to make me writhe. Knows how to make me spread my straining thighs and lift myself desperately toward his stroking fingers. Knows how to make me lose my breath when he teases one greedy point and then the next.
And he knows how to completely break any last resistance I had when he lets go of my nipple with one last loving lick, swirls his fingers through my dripping wetness, and growls huskily against my ear, "..always so ready for me." Oh, God. Just two fingertips, sliding inside me, slow and testing - but they're enough to set me off.
"Will!" | gasp, arching hard against the floor. Only the thick, pinning of his body holds me in place.
His fingers respond, surging slowly deeper, anchoring me with a rough confidence and certainty that twists me up and leaves me feeling so deliciously his.
He conquers my whole world, in this moment; there's nothing but the heavy rasp of his breaths in my ear, the heat and pressure of his body, the unyielding planes of hard muscle beneath my digging fingers, the movement of his fingers coming deeper and deeper.
Twisting. Pumping. Taking. Pushing me higher and higher each time he strokes, quickening his delicious pressure against my inner walls. I turn my head, lips against his ear. "Will," | whisper. He stops, gently slipping his fingers from my body. That raspy, commanding voice murmurs against my ear, my jaw, my throat.
"What about the hotel? You want me here, now?”
I nod, struggling to catch my breath as my entire body vibrates . “Please." He's already dragging my shorts, my panties away - peeling them down my legs, stroking over my thighs with his fingertips in the process.
Then I'm bared before him, the last scraps of cloth clinging to me, he slides down his pants. I bury my face against his shoulder, feeling hard heat pressing against me, thick and teasing against me until my stomach clenches and my breaths hitch. He rolls his hips against mine, a hard surge of muscle bunching under my fingertips, plunging his cock into my trembling, clenching depths.
The feeling of every inch of him gliding inside me, moving with such perfectly controlled strength and giving me that feeling of fullness.
One rough hand pins me to the floor , his fingers digging tight into my hip, having me to take him at his pace. l’m a whimpering mess just craving more. Then I feel it that moment when our hips crash together, when we lock so perfectly, when he fits inside me just right.
That moment when he's touching all those places that turn me into fireworks and stars. My clit throbs, buried under his pubic bone, gently grinding against me each time we collide. I'm gone. Bonelessly limp with pleasure, melted underneath him while he kisses me fiercely, delving into me until there's no part of me he hasn't touched. His hips crash harder. Faster. His thrusts come insanely deep, driving into parts of me that have only been touched by him. A feral growl pouring out his lips every time he makes me gasp a little louder.
He pushes his forehead against mine, and we're eye-to-eye when our O comes together. That moment when his whole body goes rigid and he growls my name. His dick swelling while my pussy pulls at every inch, and then I feel his release.
“Love , are you okay?” as he pulls me into him. “I think I’m going to need a shower and a massage after that.” grinning at him. The concern on his face eases, “Shower here, then a massage at the hotel.” his voice flirting the line between mischievous and loving.
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nico-di-genova · 2 days
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One Day
Written for @somethingsomethingwords’s and their request for:
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Once again, this one was written in my notes app in a frenzy. Apologies in advance for any typos.
It is raining when Lance enters Aston hospitality on Friday afternoon, the misty sort of rain that’s cold and irritating and glazes the steps in a fine layer of water that he’s busted his ass on once before. He’s not looking to repeat the humiliation, so he’s careful when he makes his way up the steps and into the building. Which is maybe why he doesn’t notice Fernando until he’s already through the doors and scuffing his shoes against the entry mat to dry them.
AirPods in, music playing, he’s doubly distracted - until a baby’s laugh pulls his attention up from where he’d been kicking loose dirt from his sneakers. There’s a lot of noises he’s come to expect from the paddock, but the gurgling giggle of an infant is not one of them.
He glances up with a confused expression, half expecting to see an engineers happy family crowded around one of the tables. Instead it is Fernando that greets him.
“Lance!” He hoists the baby higher in his arms, angles the kid so Lance is making mutually befuddled eye contact with the newborn. “Look!”
Lance looks. The baby looks back, chubby cheeked, bit of drool dripping down their chin, gripping one of Fernando’s fingers with a twitchy little hand. They’re wearing headphones bigger than their own head, green, Aston Martin logo branding the side.
Fernando’s smile is wide enough that Lance can see his dimples, the lines that form with the crinkling of his eyes. It’s wide enough that Lance’s heartbeat is thrown off kilter.
He swallows.
“Come say hello,” Fernando commands, and Lance listens. Shoes squeaking across the laminate flooring, water slicking off his raincoat and leaving a trail. There’s a couple standing next to Fernando who look a little too much like the kid. They’re wearing matching Aston merch and the lanyards that mark them as guests, fans.
“Uh, hi,” he greets them first, waving awkwardly even though he’s standing right in front of them. They don’t seem to mind, seem excited enough that he’s talking to them in the first place.
He asks them how their day has been as he slides off the raincoat and throws it over the back of a chair. Asks if they’re enjoying themselves as he puts his AirPods back in their case. Trying to be friendly in the way the socials team always hopes he will be. It’s easy to do when there’s no camera in his face and pre rehearsed talking points he’s supposed to hit.
Fernando elbows him in the ribs with the arm that’s not holding the baby, but is attached to the index finger the kid is holding tightly.
“Look at him,” he coos, in a voice Lance has never heard from him before. Something new, soft, similar to the way he talks to Chloe’s dog when he visits Lance during breaks, but different enough that Lance has to catalog it away as something new. His heart thuds again.
He has to lean to get close to the kid, close to Fernando, brushes a finger along the top of the kids fist that’s tight around Fernando’s knuckle.
He hasn’t interacted with babies much. Being the baby of the family himself and all. He had a cousin twice removed that he’d held at a family reunion once when he was fifteen, but that kid had been squirmy and crying and Lance had quickly passed him back to whatever distant aunt had handed him over in the first place. This kid seems much more mild mannered, maybe it’s the headphones muffling the noise around them, or maybe it’s just the effect Fernando has.
Fernando who keeps smiling, who’s looking over the top of the baby’s head to direct that smile at Lance. Both of them, Fernando and the kid, looking at him with big brown eyes and-
Oh.
Lance figures it’s probably a good thing he lacks the productive means to give Fernando a child. Figures he probably would have been willing to try the moment Fernando passed the baby back to his actual parents.
“He’s cute, no?” Fernando asks, shifts closer to Lance so the baby starts to reach for him instead. Lance offers his own finger, lets the kid grab it with his chubby little hand. His other hand rubs awkwardly at the kids back, a pantomime of behavior he’s seen from parents before. The baby grins at him, gummy and slobbery and babbles something.
Fernando, nonsensically, babbles back. Makes a string of noises that pulls the baby’s attention back to him and then they’re both giggling at each other.
Lance feels suddenly warm, flushes through with pure yearning and blames it on the constricting fabric of the Aston polo around his throat.
“His name is Presley,” Fernando says, turning back to Lance, like he wasn’t just speaking in senseless sounds.
It shouldn’t make Lance’s stomach do cartwheels, and yet he finds the feeling in his gut anyway. Whatever, he’s twenty-five, blame it on his ticking biological clock and the paternal nurturing he’d been comfortably raised in.
Fernando keeps smiling, and yeah, it’s not a new expression but it almost is in the way that his eyes go soft and his nose crinkles when he goes back to baby-talking with Presley. Lance can’t stop staring, can’t seem to make his heartbeat go back to normal. Can’t stop seeing a future where Presley isn’t Presley, but instead a kid of their own.
And oh. Oh. Oh no.
“Do you want kids?” He asks later, in the hotel, when they both naked and sharing the covers.
Fernando’s fingers stall the dance they’d been doing along Lance’s side pausing at his tattoo and then tracing along the Hebrew there.
“Why?” He asks, as Lance shudders at the touch, “you are pregnant?”
Lance scoffs, “Yep. Pissed on the stick last night actually. Congratulations, you are the father.”
Fernando laughs, pauses where he’d been mouthing along the line of Lance’s neck, his breath hot when he says, “Lucky me.”
In the muted light of the singular lamp they’ve left on this is simple. Lance is warm, sated, the press of Fernando’s body solid against him.
“I’m being serious though,” he presses, turns his head enough that Fernando is forced to pull away and make eye contact with him.
“Do you?”
Fernando shrugs, “Eventually, yes. Maybe.”
“Oh,” Lance says, lacking the ability to think of anything better. Something heavy settles on his chest. Fernando’s hand is quick to replace it, palm flat over his heart.
“But not now. We have time.”
We. Lance swallows. Fernando must feel the way his heartbeat thuds, mistakes it for apprehension when really it is relief at the realization that Fernando does not mean for him to be a stand-in. Realization that Fernando intends to keep him, put the comforting weight of a ring on his finger one day, maybe, build a home with him. Lance realizes he maybe wants that.
“If you want to. If not then, no, I will be okay without. I just want you.”
Lance thinks of Fernando’s smile when he’d held Presley. So raw and honest, open in a way that Lance is only used to seeing when Fernando looks at him. Or when he looks at his sister, a look reserved for family. For people he loves.
“I want to,” he says, and means it. “Eventually, yeah. You’d be a good dad.”
Lance would know, he’s somewhat of an expert in the fantastic parents department - got the team and the boyfriend to show for it.
Fernando smiles, soft, fond. His hand comes up to cup Lance’s neck in a way that is familiar.
“One day, then,” he promises.
Lance smiles back, “One day.”
After the rings of course, after he beats Fernando in a race, after tomorrow and the day after that, because they have time. Lance is, of course, already thinking about the wedding band he’s going to slide onto Fernando’s finger though. He’s always twenty steps ahead like that, drivers instincts and all.
Fernando is probably thinking the same thing.
When they kiss it is with the hint of the future. A wedding, and a shared home, and a baby’s laugh all caught up in the hotels ac kicking on. Present and future entwined with Fernando’s quiet deceleration of, ‘I love you’ that gets lost somewhere in the space they share.
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illarian-rambling · 3 days
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Thanks for the tag @phoenixradiant!
OC Interview
I've been seeing people do two characters at once, so I'll do Sepo and Izjik as a pair :)
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Are you named after anyone?
Izjik: "My name is a common one where I'm from, but I don't think I was named after anyone specific, no."
Sepo: "If I was, my mother croaked before she could tell me."
When was the last time you cried?
Izjik: "I dropped a bag of hammers on my foot at work the other day and spirits, they probably heard be about ten miles over!"
Sepo: "I don't cry."
Izjik: "Yes the fuck you do? Broody bastard. I saw you tearing up when we went and saw that new band. You cried last time you had to deal with the bounty guild because the guild leader makes you so damn angry. I know for a fact you get weepy every time you get so much as three drinks in you."
Sepo: "...no comment. Bitch."
Do you have kids?
Sepo: "You'd fucking think we do looking after Twenari. And she's not even half the trouble Djek is - and he's a grown-ass man."
Izjik: "Cut him some slack, he's like nineteen. But yeah, two kids pretty much. I've even been to a PTA meeting! That makes me certified parental material!"
Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Sepo: "Nooo, never..."
Izjik: "Low hanging fruit, my guy. I'm usually not sarcastic, though - it's not my style."
What is the first thing you notice about people?
Izjik: "If they're going to try to kill and eat me."
Sepo: "Ditto. Then I move on to what makes them annoying."
Izjik: "You're so negative, you know that? My second impression is their hands. You can tell a lot about a person based on their hands."
What is your eye color?
Izjik: "Kind of a blue gray? Slate, Twenari calls it."
Sepo: "Sirens all have eyes of black."
Izjik: "And a good thing to, given how stupid big your pupils are."
Sepo: "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
Izjik: "If you had blue eyes, you'd look kinda silly is what I mean."
Scary movies or happy endings?
Sepo: "Scary, though it takes a lot to phase me."
Izjik: "Bullshit, you jump every time the camera angle changes. I like scary too, but with happy endings. Things can get bad, yeah, but it's always good to see folks making it out in the end."
Any special talents?
Izjik: "I can do a one-handed pushup!"
Sepo: "That's because one of your hands hardly works."
Izjik: "You're just a hater because you can't do one. That can be your special talent - being a hater."
Sepo: "Yes, fine, let's brush over my musical composition abilities and skills in veterinary medicine. My true special talent is being a hater."
Izjik: "Damn straight."
Where were you born?
Izjik: "The enclave of Edeme’eneha, deep in the N'Diki swamp. I think it was a lovely place to grow up, all in all. I really miss it sometimes."
Sepo: "I was born in a brothel basement in the Ulahdrian capital city of Seluthena, the largest metropolis beneath the waves. I... I also miss it sometimes."
Do you have any pets?
Izjik: "Nah. I never really got the concept of an animal you don't eat."
Sepo: "Landhorse is more of a business partner. She gets me where I need to be, and in exchange, I give her food, shelter, and pet her sweet nose from time to time. She's the best of horses, a gentlewoman among beasts."
What sort of sports do you play?
Izjik: "Does fighting for fun count? There's this bar I like where I can always get into a scrap if I'm looking for one. I think people have started placing bets every time I walk in."
Sepo: "I would go on cross-country camping trips when I was a teen in the Saryimastra Seat. That involved swimming for a few days at least, so I suppose it could be a sport. I found it very relaxing, escaping from all the noise and fuss of the temple. Sometimes Saius would go with me, but usually, I'd go off on my own."
How tall are you?
Izjik: "Tall enough to skin my fist on your teeth, lanky ass!"
Sepo: "You are five foot two. I'm six foot five. I really don't think you are."
What was your favorite subject in school?
Izjik: "I never went, but I liked learning how to set snares during my apprenticeship. It was the only thing I'd sit still for. Looking back, maybe that's why Dzako had me learn so many."
Sepo: "My education was rather... propaganda-filled. Most of the history I enjoyed learning turned out to be false. A lot of the books I read were horribly censored, though I didn't know it at the time. I suppose music. You can twist the words and intentions of music to whatever aims you wish, but the heart of it is always pure."
What is your dream job?
Izjik: "I mean, whatever gets me paid and let's me work outside. I heard Twenari talking once about these people called potion hunters? Apparently, they hunt magical plants and animals for alchemists to use in their work. That sounds like a hell of a lot of fun!"
Sepo: "I've... This is going to sound stupid, but I've always wanted to compose my own songs. In Ulahdris, music was strictly regulated and created by the church. But here on the surface? It's chaos. Any asshole with a kazoo can play whatever he wants. I... Oh, it's all nonsense anyways. I'm fine doing what I need to in order to survive."
Izjik: "You've gotta let yourself live a little, Sepo. I'd love to hear your music!"
Sepo: "Truly? Then... Then perhaps someday, I'll work up the courage."
.
World's most married platonic soulmates, for real. I'll tag @kaylinalexanderbooks @mk-writes-stuff @sleepyowlwrites @corinneglass and anyone else who wants to play :)
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When British writers come up with an American character’s dialogue and give them the most painfully British things to say with their American accent and inflection and it makes the actor come off as stiff. :P
#The Oxford Murders (2008)#I mean it was a very well-done movie visually (that flowy choreographed camera work in the beginning WOW)#The plot was apparently hard to follow and it’s not just my lack of spoken dialogue comprehension and attention working against me#I always have to check reviews to make sure I’m not the only person having a hard time following a story#because I’ve been trained through life not to trust my own mind due to its faultiness…#Anyway: When Seldom said something like “…only mathematics can be proven. Basic statements like two plus two equals four#are the only things sure in this world” I— 💀 HELP no no no… one of the previous characters you played#would like to kiss this new character of yours on the mouth for what he just said— ashsisksnsksjjsjdjdmsksk#That is until you elaborated on it and then basically took the side of his persecutor… THAT sucked#And I know my speech right now does not come off as naturally as it once did (or is it) I have no idea#if this is my real voice or the absorption’s afterglow causing me to speak in such an uptight manner#but I don’t mind it#but I do mind it#because no matter what combination of words I use it doesn’t sound or feel as if I am the one speaking — I stitch together what I hear#or have I only been conditioned to think the way I speak isn’t natural because nobody in my immediate life speaks like this#Who says stitching together words into a gigantic quilt isn’t natural for me?#But that still leaves me with no soul. I’m Pete the Parrot. Or Bumblebee.#Maybe I shouldn’t speak or write; maybe I need to master visual telepathy#or a language comprised entirely of touch and eye movement#I always feel the need to create languages so I can express myself without falling into cliches and dialects#I want to be free of stereotypes#I’m tired of speaking this language… EXHAUSTED#I speak in predictable patterns and when I think I’m not using a pattern by being unpredictable; the unpredictability becomes a trend
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screamingay · 8 months
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god that was an awful shift i hate how corporate let us hire more people and then as soon as we put them on the schedule they decided having one more minimum wage server per day (for first shift only!!!) was too much for The Budget. i had to bargain to get someone else to come in today and help me out and it was STILL hell.. rant incoming in the tags
#we're back to 2 ppl on first shift but the new guy cant actually handle floor or dishes on his own so it's basically 1 person#plus someone following behind them to help a bit#apparently they used to have disabled workers as 'interns' just gettimg unpaid experience which is awful but at least#it meant they could actually schedule 2 other people. but i guess they got shit for not paying disabled workers#which i get. but since this new guy makes minimum wage too it means they wont let us schedule another person for first shift#which we desperately need when it's just like. me and him. in an ideal world he would be paid and getting work experience and there would#still be enough people to do the job fully#also all morning i was so scared the safety inspector would pop in bc i was told he would be. so i double checked all the possible hazards#before we opened and he literally stepped into the dining room. took a picture of it on a digital camera. then left#he didnt even come in the kitchen!! christ#but i was still stressed after that and all through lunch bc now residents' families can come in and eat like they used to before covid#and we had 2 of them today and if we fuck it up for them they can complain to corporate and im not used to running a real restaurant!!#we have to act like it's a real restaurant even tho we arent given the same resources or allowances and it's so frustrating#tbh today wouldve been 10 times easier with any other cook bc we had the fucking worst one here today. she gets frustrated when anyone asks#her for anything and she goes on rants about how bad all the other cooks are and she puts WAY too much strain on the dishwasher#using unnecessary dishes and making them wash things she could just rinse herself in the back. AND she's always telling me how to do by job#my job#and what i should do differently! it's distracting!! and makes everything harder bc she will fr just make up rules and treat u like shit if#u ignore her and do it the easier or better way#her home life sucks and she takes it out on all of us all the time. get a divorce and move to the city like you really want#it'll make everyone so much happier#(including you)#i need a new job so bad i get paid nothing to do like 4 jobs at once and im always on a time crunch and it's been absolutely killing my bac#and shoulders and feet#and joie de vivre lmao#if i get a new reliable car soon i could probably make more driving for fucking grubhub#i didnt even eat at work today. almost 8 hours straight of running my ass around the kitchen in my Shoes For Crews black sneakers#and i ate literally One piece of french toast at the very beginning#plus i came in already sick of everything bc the stupid parking garage app i have to use now malfunctioned and wouldnt let me out#bc it didnt have my entrance to the garage last night logged for some reason
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lokis-army-77 · 7 months
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Private Viewing
Camboy!Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 6.8k
What happens when your favorite camboy is in your class? You should stop watching his content... or should you? What happens when you are eventually paired together for a project? Everything will be just fine, won't it?
Warning: 18 +. This is pure fucking filth. Spit, masturbation (m and f), use of vibrators and fleshlight, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f reviving), fingering, voyeurism? Soft!dom Eddie, tell me if I'm missing anything.
Thank you @lesservillain for giving me this wonderful idea. 💗 and @munson-blurbs for figuring out if I should do this for Steve or Eddie and for helping give me a title💗.
Masterlist
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Nothing but slick sounds filled your room, the occasional deep moan calling out from your laptop speakers accompanying your own sweet cries. The guy on the screen, Ed as he called himself, or DungeonMaster as he was known on Only Fans and Twitter, was fisting his cock in his heavily ringed hand. He was putting on a show for more than ten thousand viewers but the way he stared down the camera with those dark eyes made you think he was watching you, fucking his hand to the way you were pumping your fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy. 
You had stumbled upon his Twitter three months ago and he immediately captured your eye. The way his tattoos wrapped around his pale skin, how he wasn’t all lean muscle like the other OF guys, his tummy by no means a six-pack but he still looked strong enough to sweep you off your feet with ease. His moans were heavenly and so was the deep timber of his force as he praised you through the thirty-second video clip. It was all enough to convert you from your usual consumption of smutty books to the infamous Only Fans sight. 
Since then, his streams and videos have become the one and only thing you get off to. And like then, tonight was no exception. 
You were so close to the edge, Ed’s moans spurring you on. Your fingers move at an almost inhuman pace in and out, in and out. 
“Rub that clit for me, baby. Need you to cum.” He groaned, head resting on his shoulder as he continued you pleasure himself. 
“Fuck!” You gasp as you rub your clit with your free hand. Your rhythm is horribly off but it doesn’t matter, you are so close to cumming. So so so close. “Please,” you beg out into your empty room. You aren’t too sure why or what you are pleading for. More friction? More fingers? More words of encouragement from him? Maybe you’re asking to cum? 
It’s like he had heard you through the screen as he moaned out, “That’s a good girl. Just like that. Doing so well for me. You gonna cum baby? Yeah? Me too. Want me to count for you?” He nods his head lazily. “I knew you would baby. Okay. Five.”
You want to cry.
“Four.” 
The strings tugging inside you are becoming taut.
“Three.”
You feel like you’re going to explode. He’s counting too slowly.
“Two.”
The tears are flowing now.
“One.”
You let out a strangled scream.
“Cum baby. Do it, now.”
Your walls clench around your fingers and your legs snap shut, trapping your fingers. Every muscle in your body is shuddering as those strings snap and your release comes out in a stream, wetting your hand and the bed. Your hearing has gone, there’s a ringing in your ears but you can faintly hear Ed cumming as well. 
With watery vision and slow movements, you turn to face your laptop screen just in time to see his tattoo-covered chest painted with milky white ropes of cum. 
When the ringing subsides you hear him say more clearly, “Thata girl. Always make me cum so much.” He takes a towel and wipes off his chest and stomach before adjusting the camera view to the shoulders up. “Get you some rest baby, I’ll see you on Thursday.” 
And then the live is over. 
Slowly, sluggishly, you remove your hands from between your legs and begin the now regular clean-up routine before going to bed. 
Three days later, Thursday rolls around, and thus begins the fall semester of your junior year of college. It’s a groggy morning, everyone is tired and very unenthusiastic about having an 8 a.m. advanced music composition class. 
You had struggled to get out of bed at six this morning just to get one of the dorm showers first before they were all taken up. Luckily two of the five were open and you were able to get to class a whole twenty minutes early, even having time to grab coffee at the on-campus Starbucks on the way.
The music building was old and the tables you and your fellow students sat at were even older. It all added to the sleepy ambiance. Your eyes drooped and you yawned every time someone else did, the black coffee you had chugged not doing anything for you. 
You’re only awoken when your professor, a stout old man with a very severe receding hairline, slams open the door to the classroom a little too hard and it hits the brick wall, creating a loud, startling bang. 
He apologizes before making his introduction.  He then gets out a clipboard with a sheet attached and hands it off to a girl in the front row, instructing everyone to fill in their name and school email for his role sheet.
It’s only once you’ve finished and passed the clipboard on, that you notice the guy two seats down from you looks vaguely familiar. You can’t quite put a finger on it and it bugs you. 
His hair is pulled back into a messy bun and his clothes make him look like the alternative guy of your dreams back in high school. He’s got rings on almost every finger and an aura that just screams confidence. 
It begins to become a problem, your inability to place this guy's face. You’ve only taken a handful of notes the entire first hour and thirty minutes into this two-hour class. Your eyes are constantly staring at him no matter how hard you try to make yourself pay attention. 
Then, he raises his hand to answer one of your professor's questions. That’s when it clicks. Your pen falls from your grasp and your mouth forms an O. 
“Oh my fucking god. No. It can’t be.” You think to yourself but just to be sure you take out your phone, turn the brightness and volume down, and hide it under the table. You open Twitter as fast as you can and you don’t even have to look for his user, he’s the first post on the screen. 
Ed @ DungeonMaster86 was boldly displayed above a picture of the guy sitting next to you with his massive dick in his hand. 
It’s a wonder you weren’t caught with how you practically choked on thin air and began furiously looking from your phone to the guy and then back to your phone. 
Your stomach drops. You can’t keep watching his videos, can you? That wouldn’t be right. That would be weird, watching the porn your classmate makes. 
When class is finally called to an end you pack up as quickly as you can and bolt out the door to your next class, hoping that by getting away from Ed, you'd be able to concentrate. Out of sight, out of mind.
That statement turns out to be false when he is in your next class and when you spot him in the student commons talking with another guy. It's like once you made the connection of who he was, he was everywhere.
Arriving back at your dorm, you throw your backpack on your desk, snatch your laptop out of it, and struggle to jump up onto your bed. Never had you been so thankful for the single dorm than this moment as your curser hovered over the bookmarked Only Fans page at the top of your screen. No roommate meant no one would see the moral dilemma you were currently losing with yourself. 
‘You know him, it’s wrong to keep watching his videos.”
‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him though. The only way he would know you are watching is if you tell him, you aren’t going to tell him, are you?’
‘No…’ 
‘Then it’s okay, it’ll just add an extra element of taboo to his streams. Plus, he’d miss you in the chat.’
You sigh as the devil on your shoulder wins out once again, talking you into something you know you shouldn’t be. But hey, it feels good to be bad. 
Steadily, you click on his bookmarked profile and the first thing to pop up is the live stream that is currently in session. And against your better judgment, you enter the stream.
He’s only just started, people are slowly filtering in. Ed is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirt off, and a singular, ringed hand teasing himself through his black jeans. 
You breathe a sigh as he looks into the camera, eyes half-lidded, luring you in. It does the job, because in an instant your fingers are typing out a message in chat. 
Princess23: hi Ed
His eyes flicker as he reads his messages, smiling as he replies to you. "Hi, Princess. How's my girl been?"
There's a bubble of excitement at the fact that he recognizes your username, even if you've been a regular in the chat for months.
Princess23: stressful… you've been distracting me.
The reply to his question is truer than he realizes. 
"Aww, princess, is that so? You've been thinking of me?" He leans back on his free elbow, still groping himself with the other hand.
Princess23: yes. been thinking about your cock, how much I want it in my mouth. 
It's one of the less bold comments you make but it makes you blush all the same, especially now.
"Yeah? You want me to fuck that pretty little mouth? Of yours?"
Princess23: yes please
"Mmm." He hums, fingers now fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. 
You set your laptop to the side and start to situate yourself. Slowly taking your clothes off one by one. 
Ed replies to a few more comments before announcing that it's time to start.
He leaves the screen for just a moment before coming back with something in his hand. Smirking at the camera he shows it. A flashlight in the shape of a mouth.
"This one’s for you, Princess. Since you need my dick so bad," Ed explains. He sets it on his bed before making a show of taking his jeans and boxers off. 
As you watch, your hands roam your body. Fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nipples before trailing down. The light touch over your ribs makes you giggle. Then you rub and scratch at the inside of your thighs. 
Ed's moans are now coming through your speakers, you tilt your head to watch.
"Spit on my cock baby, get it nice and wet for me." He commands before spitting in his own hand and rubbing it on his thick length. 
"Your mouth looks so pretty like this, waiting, drooling for me. Need me to fill it so bad don't you, baby?" 
"Yes." You answer him breathlessly, fingers teasing around your mound. 
You watch and he sits back down on his bed, thighs spread, a hand cupping his balls and the other grabbing the fleshlight. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan when he inserts his cock into the fake mouth. 
"Fuck baby, your mouth feels so perfect." 
You can't help but whine. Allowing your fingers to finally circle your clit. 
The both of you go one like this for a bit. Him fucking the fleshlight and you massaging your clit. But then you need more, more than your hand can give you. So you reach to your bedside table, stretching at an uncomfortable angle to open the drawer and pull out the purple mini wand you kept there.
The vibrations start slow and constant as you press the toy to your clit. It pulls soft, quiet noises from you as you watch your computer screen. Your mind is blank, filled only with the pretty sounds Ed is making, the way his body looks, and the pleasure between your legs.
There are no thoughts. You follow his lead. When his hand speeds up, you kick up the vibrations, when he slows down, you turn the vibrator back to the first level. 
It's a rollercoaster, almost, taking your pleasure for a ride. The stream isn't even done yet when you feel that tight pull in your abdomen. The toy works you up fast. 
So you stop. Taking the toy away and changing positions. On your hands and knees, you hug a pillow to your chest and prop the toy up under you, keeping it standing as you push your clit down onto it. It's not even on and it's making your hips buck in sensitivity.
You turn it back on and immediately feel the slick seeping from your cunt and running down the toy. 
"Oh fuck," you cry.  Your eyes locked on the screen where Ed has also changed positions. 
He's got his own toy lying on the bed and he's laying over it. The way his leg and glute muscles contract as he thrusts into the toy has you memorized. 
He chants, "Baby, baby, baby." Over and over. What you would give to have him chanting your name instead. Like a prearranged falling from his lips, praising you, worshiping you.
The need for him grows and so does the tightness in your core. 
Reaching your hand down you turn the speed up. Your hips buck into the toy and you bury your face in the pillow. You're close.
He’s not far behind. Peering up from your pillow you can see his thrusts are sputtering. Sporadic as he draws close to his end. 
“God dammit, baby. Gonna cum in this perfect mouth of yours. Fuck. Can you swallow it like the good pet you are? Hum? The good pet I know you can be?”
“Yes.” You turn up the vibrator. “Fuck, wanna swallow all of you. Please.” 
The vibrations are becoming too much but you keep the toy pressed into you, hips shaking at the feeling of being overstimulated. 
Without warning, you cum with a guttural cry into your pillow. Body spasming, muscles twitching. You can still hear Ed moaning and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking the fleshlight. 
With barely any energy you reach down between your heavy body and the bed and turn your toy off. You don’t even bother with your computer, too exhausted and fucked out to exit the stream. You fall asleep to the sounds of your new classmate's self-pleasure. 
It’s October now. The semester is halfway over and you’ve still been watching Ed, or Eddie. You learned his actual name in class when your professor called role on him by name the second week. 
Today you are being assigned a partner for the final project. You have your fingers crossed that Eddie won’t be chosen as your partner but as your professor calls out pairs, it seems luck is against you. 
You freeze when your name is called and directly after so is Eddie’s. You groan internally. How the hell are you supposed to do this? You already have trouble concentrating when he sits two seats away, what’s going to happen when he actually interacts with you?
There isn’t much time to think about that as he abruptly moves from his seat to the one directly next to you. 
“Hi.” He says, eyes bright and expectant. “I’m Eddie.” He holds out his hand for you to shake but you just stare at him. He looks at you curiously before waving his hand in front of your face. “Hello? Cat got your tongue?”
You snap out of your stupor and accept his hand, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Sorry. I was a bit out of it.” You say, trying to play it off as you just staring off into space. 
“No problem.” He smiles. “Uh, do you want to exchange numbers so we can figure out when we can work on this together?” 
“Oh, yeah. Here,” You open your phone and push it to him with the messages app open. “You can text yourself.” 
He does just that, even going as far as putting in his contact name as Eddie with the skull and crossbones emoji beside it. 
“Great. I’ll text you when I’m free. I have work on Mondays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays, but other than that I’m usually free.”
You nearly choke when you realize he’s given you his streaming schedule. “I- uh. Okay. Just text me when you can.”
"Sure thing sweetheart." He grins at you before standing, grabbing his things, and heading out of class along with the rest of the students. 
You sit there for a minute, thinking. God, what are you getting yourself into?
You both have finally come up with meeting times that work for both of you. Tuesday and Wednesday after seven. Giving you time to get to the school library after the closing shift at your on-campus job. 
It’s been two weeks of working together on this project and it’s been easier than you had originally thought to concentrate on the task at hand and keep your dirty thoughts at bay. 
Right now, you are both sitting in one of the private study rooms looking at Eddie’s computer as he explains why this particular cord progression would fit with the emotions you are trying to convey in your composition. 
You sigh, “Eddie, as much as I love that sound, I really don’t think it fits with the overall composition of the song. It isn’t as emotionally charged as I’d like it to be.”
“Well show me something similar to what you’re wanting.” He rakes his hand through his hair. It’s been a long night for each of you. It seems that every new section of the song you are creating for the project gives you a new challenge to work through together. 
You pull out your phone and Eddie leans over to watch as you begin to type. There is a particular song you are thinking of that has the weight and emotion you are trying to convey with your own music and as you type the first letter of the song, O, the first suggestion that pops up is onlyfans/DungeonMaster. 
Mortified, you slam your phone down on the table. Eddie looks at you with an eyebrow raised. 
“What was that?” He asks.
“What was what?” You answer. 
“Why did you slam your phone down?”
“Oh, I just forgot the title of the song.”
“Right…” He scratches under his chin and then stretches back in his chair. “Why don’t we call it quits for tonight? It’s getting late and we aren’t going to agree on anything if we’re both tired.”
A yawn suddenly comes up out of nowhere and you then realize how tired you actually are. “That sounds good to me.” You agree with Eddie and begin packing up your things. You don’t want to be with him longer than you need to be right now, even if he seemingly didn’t notice his OF user pop up on your phone screen. 
“Bye Eddie.” You wave to him on your way out the door.
Faintly you hear him call out to you, giving a goodbye of his own. "See ya, sweetheart."
… 
After your little slip, you began avoiding Eddie. At least in person, you still tuned into his streams. You bailed on the next three meetups you had planned, helping only through voice notes and text. Eddie said he understood when you said your boss was forcing you to stay late to deep clean. 
It was Thursday now and when you saw him in class he barely looked your way and you wondered if he had seen what you hoped he had not. 
You tried stopping him once your lecture was over, feeling an anxiousness creeping into your mind. Your conscience had been telling you to come clean. To explain your perversion. Let him know you watched him, that you paid to enjoy seeing him fuck into a toy or his hand. 
You called out his name and reached for his arm. "Eddie."
He turns to you. "Hum?"
You take a deep breath to ground yourself. "I wanted to say sorry for not being able to come help with the project."
"It's okay, you said you had work." He replies, unbothered. 
"No, Eddie, I didn't get held back at work. That was a lie."
He doesn't look all too surprised. 
"I've kinda been avoiding you because- well, because of what I think you might have seen on my phone that day."
Eddie stops you there. "Can this wait until later? I've really got some errands to run before work."
"Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry to keep you Ed." You had meant it as a nickname but as it came pushing past your lips it was too late to take it back. You had never heard anyone call him that outside of his onlyfans. 
You watched as his eyes widened at the name and a spark went off behind them. "I'll see you later sweetheart." The smirk he gives you isn't the usual playful one you'd seen him throw before. No, this was sinister, like he knew.
Your heart fell into your stomach as you watched him walk away, leaving you alone.
Tonight as you logged into the stream, it wasn’t to get off. It was to see if he'd show any signs of knowing you might be lurking about among the thousands of viewers.
When the video loads, Eddie is sitting in his desk chair. He's talking to the chat like he always does. There's something different in the atmosphere around him, mischief if you've placed it correctly. 
He keeps replying to comments until the clock reaches 6:10. It's time for the show to begin. 
"Tonight I have a very special treat for you guys." Eddie starts as he reaches over just off camera to his desk. "I've got the wand out." 
The chat erupts. Eddie doesn't bring his vibrator out often, but when he does, you know it's going to be a good show for every party involved. 
"I would also like to say hello to a special quest in the stream tonight." Eddie’s smirk gets bigger and your heart pounds in your chest. "Hi, sweetheart. Hope you enjoy yourself." 
You feel like you've been shot. There's a ringing in your ears and your breathing has stopped. 
He knows. Fuck. He definitely knows. You've never heard him say that pet name on camera. It's always babe or baby when he refers to the collective whole watching the stream. Eddie has only ever used that name with you.
Eddie starts up the vibrator, tracing it over his covered cock. He hums at the feeling, loud and long. 
You clench your thighs together. You tell yourself you should stop watching but you can't bring yourself to. 
'He knows." You argue with yourself.
'But he wants you to watch. Why else would he say his pet name for you? Why else would he say he hopes you enjoy yourself? He knows and he likes it.'
The devil on your shoulder makes sense again and you curse it. 
So, you watch. Intently, you watch. Your eyes never leave the screen. 
Eddie whimpers once he has his cock out of his pants. The tip is a deep purple/red color, showing how worked up he's gotten already.
He lets his head fall back, resting on his chair as he moves the vibrator down to his balls. He presses it into himself before dragging it up his shaft and to the head. 
You feel a wetness seeping into the cotton of your panties and as his legs widen, yours press together more. 
"Oh fuck. Oh fuck, sweetheart." Eddie moans, mouth open slack and eyes squeezed shut. 
You can't believe he's saying your pet name and making those noises. You wonder what he's thinking about. How you'd look sucking on his cock? Maybe what it would be like to be pounding into you, watching your cunt suck him in and clench around him. 
Eddie grits his teeth when he turns the speed up. One hand is holding the vibrator just at the frenulum while the other is cupping and squeezing his balls. 
Your thoughts are running wild and your hips have started to rock in search of some kind of friction.
He moves his hand from his balls and begins to tug on his shaft. Deep guttural moans fill the air, and the sound of them turns you on even more. 
It's not long before Eddie is bucking his cock into his hand. You can see his muscles straining in his legs as he does. 
"Fuck fuck fuck- ah fuck sweetheart, you've got me so close. Fuck." His voice is pinched. You can see the exhaustion in the furrow of his eyebrows as he pressed the vibrator over his tip, the change in placement making his hips shudder. “God, I’m gonna cum. The thought of you is gonna make me cum, sweetheart.” 
Hearing his breathy, deep, timber of a voice say that the thought of you was going to do him in had you thinking you might just cum too. No touching required, just Eddie and his beautiful noises. 
In a matter of seconds, Eddie is choking on his words as his balls go taut. He lets out a drawn-out grunt and ropes of cum begin to spurt out over his chest, covering him like a painting. He doesn’t even bother to clean himself up before he looks into the camera and says good night, chuckling when he mentions your particular pet name again. Then, the screen goes dark. 
Fridays are slow in the used bookshop you work at. Especially after 4:30. No one had been inside in maybe an hour? Your boss left early, leaving you alone to close down at 6. For the past fifteen minutes, you’ve been putting misplaced books back where they belong, sweeping, and tidying up anything else you see. 
Because of the usual slowness, you have your headphones on. The music isn’t loud but it does drown out the sound of the bell chiming as someone enters the building. You are unaware of the person creeping up behind you until you are suddenly turned around and corralled against the bookshelf. 
You let out an alarmed screech only for your mouth to be covered by a big, warm hand. Your headphones fall to the floor beside you as they are accidentally knocked off your head. You hear his voice then, whispering in your ear. 
“Hi, Sweetheart.” 
“Eddie-” You heave, relieved it wasn’t someone coming to kill you in cold blood.
“Did you enjoy my show last night?” He leans back, caressing a strand of hair away from your face. 
You shake your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You deny. Even after you had told yourself you would come clean to him, granted that was before you knew he knew your secret. 
“You don’t know, do you? I think you do why else would my account have popped up on your search suggestions the other day?” 
Keeping your mouth shut, you refuse to answer. 
Eddie takes your chin between his fingers and moves your face to the side as he leans into you. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks again. “So… Which one of my subs are you? Hum?”
Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. 
Eddie tuts. “Don’t get all shy on me. Tell me. Now.” His tone is dominating. It’s one thing to hear it over a computer speaker, it's another when you hear it in person. His presence alone had your knees knocking. 
“I-I,” You can't help but stutter. “It’s Princess23.” You shamefully tell him your user, eyes looking anywhere but his.
He sucks in a breath. “Oh, Princess. That was you?”
He forces you to look at him and you nod your head. 
You hate that he’s making you look him in the eye, but you can see what’s swirling around deep within them. Desire, lust, dominance, but nothing mean. Nothing hurtful. 
As you watch him, you catch the minute changes in his expression. His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, a hunger taking over as he stares you down. 
“I can give you a private show if you want, baby.” He leans back in. “Right here,” He nipps at your ear lobe. “Right now.” 
“Eddie, we can’t… We’re at my work.” 
He looks around you, head swiveling to peer down both ends of the aisle. “It’s fine Sweetheart, no one’s here but us, right?”
“Yes, but-”
He cuts you off with a finger over your lips. 
“Then let me show you why the real thing is so much better than what you’ve seen online.” He doesn’t give you time to think before his lips are on yours. 
They are soft, almost pillow-like as they mold against yours. His tongue slithers its way into your mouth, tasting you, he moans when he does. 
To you, he tastes like menthol cigarettes and black coffee with the faintest hint of weed. It’s intoxicating, and addicting. You’ve only had one taste and now you won't be able to function without him.  
His hand cups your cheek and pulls you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair. His body keeps you pinned to the shelves and he spreads your legs by inserting one of his own between them.
With him being so much taller than you, it only takes you barely bending your knees for you to make contact with his thigh. You are thankful when he doesn’t stop you from humping his leg. The friction of you rubbing yourself against him has the seam of your pants pressing against your clit. It’s a wonderful pressure that leaves your mind blank. 
When he pulls away, you follow, not wanting his mouth to leave yours. Eddie chuckles when you give a needy whine. 
"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He coos. "But first, since you wanna get yourself off, you've got to make yourself cum on my leg."
You pout. "But Eddie…"
"Ah ah, don't complain sweet girl, you'll only make it take longer. Now get to work."
You do as he says, rolling your hips with purpose against him. He doesn't help you at all, he only provides support and kissed along your jaw every few seconds as he watches you work. 
It's harder than you thought it would be. The layers of denim dulled the sensations yet added to the tension your clit felt as the fabric rubbed against it. 
"Mmm, fuck." You gasp, fingers gripping onto Eddie’s shoulders. "M'so close. Eddie, I'm so close."
He smiles at you and he gives your body gentle touches. "That's it, Princess. Let go. Being such a good girl for me."
You moan loudly at his praise. 
"That right sweet girl, use me to get yourself off. That's it, keep going."
His words are spurring you on, your hips, although losing their rhythm and steadiness, keep going strong. Then, you feel it. That tautness in your tummy and the ache in your bones. You are so close.
"Please, Eddie. Ah- so close. Need more." Your words are short and your hips move faster. 
"What is it, baby? What do you need?" Eddie asks, willing to give you just a little.
"Kiss me again," you beg. 
He obliges. Taking your face in his hands and practically devouring you. 
The canter of your hips stalls as your body shudders against him. A sticky wetness can now be felt,  uncomfortably, between your legs.
"So good for me." He praises.
You can feel how hard he is, his needy cock prominently pressing into your thigh.
"Wanna feel you. Eddie please, I need to feel you." You're practically begging him to fuck you now.
"Yeah, sweet girl? You need me to stretch that pretty pussy on my dick? Make you feel so good, baby." He trailed his kiss down to your neck, stopping only to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. 
You nod frantically. "Yes, yes Eddie. Need you inside me."
Hands rush to unbutton pants, fingers caress bare skin, breaths hitch. You tug at Eddie's pants impatiently as he pulls your own down. The sudden feeling of cold air hitting the pool of slick between your thighs. 
You are both a whirlwind of arms and clothes and a few books falling from their shelf. Eddie’s fingers make their way to your center, exploring between your folds. 
You throw your head back, cracking it on the shelf above. "Ow," You moan out in pain.
"Careful there, Sweetheart." He gives you another kiss and moves his unoccupied hand to cradle your head.
The pain is instantly forgotten when two of his thick fingers circle your clit before pushing into your entrance.
"Mmmm- god." He feels so good inside you, fingers curling into your walls. The wet slick of him moving fills the stagnant air of the bookstore.
"You're sucking me in, baby. Pussy squeezing me so tight." Eddie rests his forehead on yours, his breath mixing with your own. "Can't wait to feel you around my cock."
Gasping in response, you buck your hips up into his hand. "More-"
It doesn't take much convincing for Eddie to pull his hand from between your legs and position his hard length at your entrance. Slowly he slips inside, meeting no resistance with how wet you are. 
Eddie pushes into you, cock stretching you out farther than you think you've ever been before. His one hand rests on the back of your head while the other pushes your shaking hand out of his way as he goes to press it against your neck.
You grasp his arm, nails scratching his skin as he chokes you. 
"Oh- oh, Eddie. Fuck me." You cry, cunt fluttering around him. 
Your words are music to his ears. His pace begins steadily. In and out at a lazy, leisurely speed. Then he picks it up, hips bucking faster and faster. 
He's giving it all to you. Everything you've dreamed of since you saw him on your Twitter all those months ago.
The head of his cock is repeatedly hitting that one spot inside of you that makes your toes curl. You can’t keep yourself up. The feelings coursing through you have your knees buckling and Eddie does a good job at catching your weight. 
He stops his movements to try and situate you. “Come on, baby, gotta stand up.” 
You shake your head. “I can’t, s’too much.” Your heart is pounding in your chest, if you even tried to stand you would just fall again. “There's a couch.” You point to the back of the store. “It’s in the break room.” 
Eddie grunts as he hoists you up in his arms and follows your directions. 
The couch is old and made of leather. It is cold on your skin as Eddie lays you down and you shiver as he rips your pants and underwear from around your ankles. Never would you have ever imagined being naked from the waist down in your work break room. 
In contrast to the cool leather, Eddie’s hands are searing hot. He grips the back of your knees, picking your legs up and spreading you out. You’re almost folded in half. 
“Jesus fucking christ. You. Are. Beautiful.” He enunciated every word. The complement has you keening and clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at that pretty cunt. She’s gaping for me.” Eddie smiles, eyes flickering to yours before looking back to your most intimate part. 
You let out a wonton gasp when he spits, a glob of it falling right atop your parted slit. Eddie takes a hand away and grabs his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds, giving your clit a heavy tap tap tap before entering you again and grabbing the back of your knee again. 
Eddie wastes no time in pistoning his hips into yours. The new angle gives him free range of movement to fuck you fast and deep. The skin of his thighs makes a sharp slapping sound when he connects with your ass, it sets the rhythm for the song of your shared moans. 
“Pull your shirt up.” He commands and you do as he says. Lifting your shirt up and over your breasts. Eddie lets out an irritated grunt at the sight of your bra. “That too.” He puffs out and you pull it up as far as it will allow. 
Your breasts bounce as Eddie fucks you mercilessly into the couch. His eyes are shamelessly trained on them. “Fucking hell, Princess. Gimmie our hands.” 
You reach out for him and he grabs your wrists, guiding you to hold your legs back like he had been doing. With the newfound freedom of his hands, he extends them out to play with your tits.  He pinches and tugs at your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as he continues his assault. His thrusts become faster, harder, more desperate. You know he's close and you can't take much more either. 
“Eddie… Ah- Eddie-” You babble out his name. You wiggle under his hold and the harsh prodding of his cock into your cervix. The strings of another orgasm are being pulled tight. 
He growls. “I know baby, I know. Fucking cum for me. Cum on my cock.” 
Tears well up in your eyes and begin to overflow. Your body writhes, back bowing, muscles straining. You’re on the precipice. 
Eddie sees how close you are and moves a hand down between your legs, circling his thumb over your slick-covered clit. 
“Oooh- Oh fuck!” You scream. “Shit shit shit shitshitshitshit…. Ah!” 
“Louder.” He moans. “Want the whole town to hear you sweet girl.” 
“Eddie! Oh, I’m there. I’m fucking there.” You cry, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you let go. A scream erupts from your throat. Even in your ecstasy, you can feel Eddie’s tempo shift. He’s losing speed. 
“Goddammit. I cumming too.” Eddie whimpers, sinking into you fully. His cum fills you up and you can fill you as it runs down your ass as he pulls out. 
Your body is twitching as he moves you to lay more fully on the couch. He doesn’t follow though. No. He sinks to his knees and before your foggy mind can even comprehend it, he attaches his mouth to your pussy.  
You are pliant under his touch, unable to resist. His tongue explores you and you moan in pleasure. He’s lapping up the mixture of his cum and your slick, humming at the taste the whole time. 
You choke back a sob when his tongue flicks repeatedly over your clit before he begins to suck on the already abused bud. “Eddie, please.” Reaching down you tug on his hair but he doesn’t move. “Ed-” He starts shaking his head, burying himself in your pussy. 
Another orgasm is quickly approaching. Your breathing quickens and you can feel your body trembling as he works you up, sending you higher and higher until you can’t take it anymore. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and your body spasms in pleasure. He doesn't stop, continuing his ministrations until you finally come down from your high once more.
“Christ. You taste so good.” He says as he crawls up your spent body. Draping himself over you he places kiss after tender kiss all over your face. “Did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” 
“Yeah?” You whisper. 
“Mhum. So proud.” He grins, the light of the room catching in the wetness covering him from nose to chin. 
Eddie cuddles into you more and your eyes close. He’s exhausted you. You both lay there in silence, content in each other's presence. Eddie eventually falls asleep, his breathing slow and steady. You don’t have the heart or the energy to wake him. You stay awake, just barely, still in awe of what happened. 
It feels like hours have gone by when you finally do shake Eddie, calling out to him softly. He stirs, grumbling as he looks up at you. 
“Eds, baby, I need to lock up.” 
He only rests his head back down between your breasts. You shake him again. 
“Eddie.” You say it a bit more sternly. “Get up and I’ll let you take me back to yours.” 
That gets his attention and he’s up and dressing himself in an instant. You on the other hand are slower, feeling the prominent ache between your legs. He has to help you pull your panties and jeans back on. 
He has to help you close the store as well, your legs weak and not trusted to hold up your body weight without crumbling to the ground. 
Never had you thought this was how this would end. Sitting in the passenger seat of your favorite camboy's car as he drives you to his apartment, grinning like the Cheshire cat as you both think of all the fun things you’ll get up to. Round two was bound to be wilder than the first. 
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spacebugarts · 8 months
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I'm doing to Mike and Martin from V what the OG Star Trek girlies did to Kirk and Spock <3
#sometimes you just see a logical alien and their chaotic human and decide they should be gay#listen my guy Martin could've gotten any human job he wanted after The Final Battle and my mans chooses to be a sound operator/camera man#so he can continue working with Mike#like he wouldve been way more qualified for being a pilot or something but nope. he needs to stay with Mike#and Mike has such chaotic bisexual energy this man is at EVERY pride parade he can get to#his mom kicked him out bc he was caught with another guy in hs and outed#which gives them some EXCELLENT angst when he outs Martin as a Fifth Columnist under the truth serum#alien/human relationships are just too good just *chefs kiss*#espescially when they have no idea they like each other#or keep unintentionally doing things considered romantic in the other culture#i like to hc that Visitors kiss by bonking their foreheads together#and Mike does it at the end of the fight in TFB as a 'we won/I'm glad you're ok!' gesture#and Martin is just. having an entire crisis over it#that's what makes him fully realize that he's in love and he spends the next week asking Willie/Julie for advice#w/ Willie its mostly stuff like 'what do humans like? what does being in love with one feel like? how could you tell yours liked you back?'#and with Julie it's more like 'what does forehead touching mean? why is Mike always touching me? what are human courting rituals?'#meanwhile Mike is just trying to figure out why Martin's acting so weird around him#Julie got Willie to agree not to tell them anything and let them figure it out on their own#practically everyone in the resistance has a bet going on how long it will take#except for Ham bc theres no way that man isnt homophobic#I also choose to ignore what happens to Martin he deserves to have his brother bully the shit out of him for his choice in men#Philip probably points it out completely casually at one point bc he assumes its obvious#or uses his Twin Privileges to confess FOR Martin and then just. leaves#Mike and Martin are both very confused the next time they run into each other#either way everyone is upset bc Philip ruined the bet but at least the idiots are happy#they just have such an interesting dynamic I love them <3#plus they fought a literal war against Space Fascism they would absolutely fight for their right to love#anyways thats my mental state rn :)#hyperfixation: v#v-posting
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simpjaes · 3 months
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PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM (l.hs)
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You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off. 
៸៸៸ minors do not interact!
៸៸៸ simp gamer ! lee heeseung x afab reader 
 ៸៸៸ wc: 30k
 ៸៸៸ tags: smut, sister’s boyfriend trope, exhibitionism and voyeurism, dom heeseung, he is also unemployed lol, gaming antics, discord streaming, sexting, sex bets, shameless behavior, food mentions, alcohol use, implied sickness due to said alcohol, jake, sunghoon, and jay as the gamer friends who have a bet going. also the guys who get to watch….kind of. 
 ៸៸៸ !WARNINGS!: cheating/infidelity, dubcon-ish at one instance, heeseung is mean and manipulative. instances where jake, jay, and sunghoon take advantage of a situation where reader is drunk (conversation based), the reader can be lifted, visibly marked, has hair that can have fingers ran through it, and blushes visibly.
 ៸៸៸ a/n: this fic was written for heeseung's gf @drunkhazed! i really loved the idea, as you can see, i kind of went crazy with it. i hope it lives up to your imagination but maybe not idk. you better love it anyway oomfie, bc i loved writing it for u. this fic was briefly edited but likely still has a million typos and grammar errors.
៸៸៸ nsfw tags below
៸៸៸ nsfw tags: 10” heeseung, dubcon-ish at one instance,  masturbation, pillow humping, cum eating, degradation, hentai watching, sexting, sex on camera, blow job, voyeurism, exhibitionism, deep penetration, cream pie, breeding, blood and spit, one mention of piss but no actual piss (form of degradation), fingers down your throat.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Walking into an empty room has never felt so freeing, especially in knowing this is your space. Safe from your parents, bare and ready to be adorned with all of the things you hold dear to you. What’s even better? It’s bigger than your room back home, and you even have a little attached bathroom of your own. 
Life is great. You think studying here will ease your mind and allow you to graduate top of your class by the time it’s all over and done with. If you could kiss your sister, you would, really. 
You remember being kids and the two of you promising that when you grow up, you’d live together and never grow apart. After actually growing up though, she finished her degree and went off on her own, leaving you by yourself with no one to get you through the hardships of becoming a college student yourself.
With her working full time for several years and you struggling your own way to the top, she really did follow through with that young childhood promise. 
“Why don’t you come live with me through college? I’m sure it would be easier than living with all those rules.” 
You didn’t even think twice and had your bags packed a single day after the invitation. You stayed up all night getting it done, emptying your childhood room filled with both good and bad memories. Alas, you did have to wait until the spring semester was over though. Thankfully, you were only sleeping in a packed up room for about a week.
You find yourself here now, with your sister lovingly making lunch in the kitchen while her boyfriend, who you have only met briefly at holiday gatherings, stays in the office-turned-gaming room hooting and howling over some game he’s playing.
“Don’t mind him.” She half-smiles when he doesn’t immediately head for the kitchen, making her own plate and moving to the table with a sense of annoyance. “He’ll be out in a bit, it’s a pretty normal occurrence.” 
“You don’t think it’s rude?” You furrow your brows now, automatically assuming that your sister deserves a man willing to work just as much as she does. Still, you don’t entirely mind that you weren’t forced into an official meeting of the man of the house first thing when you walked in.
“Nah, not really. Been dating him for years, I knew what I signed up for when I moved him in.” She smiles while shaking her head, seemingly accepting all of his positives and negatives.
“Does he not have a job?” You pry, picking at your plate and trying to memorize his actual name because for a little while, you really started to wonder if his name was just a variation of “honey” and “babe”. Thankfully not. 
“He’s looking for one.” She says, looking at you and trying to read your judgment. “Before you say anything, he has money. Or–well, his parent’s have money. They pay his half of the rent right now.”
You shrug, noting that she really does seem happy and you’d be the best person to judge her level of fulfillment outside of herself anyway. You trust that she picked the right man, even if he’s still screaming in the other room with an empty stomach. 
“By the way…” She says with a wicked smile, one that you remember growing up with. The other end of that smile always ends with some sort of…antic. “We’re throwing you a welcome party this weekend. Inviting all of our friends too, so it’s easier for you to start being social on this side of town.”
You would groan, but growing up in your childhood home with your parents never came with parties. No birthdays at home, no sleepovers, nothing. Hell, they wouldn’t even allow you to attend other parties as a child, and going to college parties was out of the question.
The only party you ever attended was during the time you snuck out. They made damn sure you never snuck out again after that mishap as well. 
“Oh, really?” You chew and speak at the same time, not minding your manners at all considering you can get away with it now. “Is there gonna be alcohol?” 
“Oh, yes, yes.” She smiles again. “Gonna give you a proper party since, you know.”
You nod to her and you both laugh together at the found freedom you share, and then, well, the king of screaming like a toddler walks in. His hair looks like shit, an indent at the top of the messy locks indicating that he must have had his headset on for a long fucking time. Loose shirt with the sleeves pushed up, eyes sleepy and red, probably burning from the sunlight coming through the windows, and some sort of smile on his face. He looks at his girlfriend with that tired smile, about to thank her for the meal, then his eyes trail to you.
“Oh fuck–” His hands raise to run his fingers through his hair, then both rest on the back of his neck as he lets out a big sigh. “Was that today?” 
You give him the side eye of all side eyes at this moment. Reminding yourself how you and your sister spent all morning hauling your stuff in without his help. She also did say he would have put together your desk, dresser, shelf, and bed frame by the time you got here. Well, he didn’t.
“Yep.” She pops the p on the end of her word indicating passive aggressive annoyance. 
“Shit.” He mumbles under his breath, placing his empty plate right back into the cupboard and making his way to your room. “I’ll do it now. I’m sorry babe.” 
Your sister nods triumphantly, watching your look of surprise in reaction to the way he instantly appears to fix his mistake without more than a single word from her. 
“He knows when he fucks up. He was supposed to do it yesterday but as you can see, he hasn’t left his PC since like, nine o’ clock last night.” She shrugs.
You laugh, furrowing your brow at her. 
“I really didn’t expect him to be so lazy, sis, I always figured you’d be dating a doctor or something.” 
She brushes off her shoulders with a proud look, leaning towards you with a smile. 
“He was working a really good job but I could see how unhappy he was. I’m giving him a year or two to figure himself out. He’s been back and forth trying new things, hasn’t quite landed on anything he likes yet though.” 
She is a fucking saint. Honestly, Heeseung might be the luckiest man in the world to have a woman willing to do such a thing for him. 
“Woah,” You start, taking a sip of your water. “He’s trying to make it as a streamer right now, I take it?”
She shakes her head with an eye roll.
“Not really, he’s just always spent as much free time as possible playing but, I trust that he’ll figure something out sooner rather than later.” 
And you pry for a while longer. Learning about all of the things your sister and Heeseung do together, learning about her friends and his friends, the rules of the house, and the not-rules of the house. For instance, you’re allowed to bring home hook-ups or dates if you give a fair warning so she doesn’t have to hear it. However, the food in the fridge is for the house occupants only, and people need to ask before opening the cupboards and filling their plates. Of course, unless there is a party. 
Another rule, which was a bit too much information but you figure it’s fair since everyone here is an adult. She and Heeseung apparently have a pretty active sex life and apologized in advance for some of the things you may end up hearing. She also noted that there will be ear plugs if you need them, but that she suggests throwing on some headphones and ignoring it. Fair enough, it’s her house anyway. 
And after a few hours pass, Heeseung makes his way out of your room with a smile on his face. You remember seeing him maybe two or three times during the holidays but he never mingled with you. He never mingled with anyone, actually. He tended to keep to himself, with his loose fitting outfits always sticking out in the awkward family photos that your sister would sneak him into. That’s all you can really recall about him. 
It is kind of strange seeing him in his natural habitat of your sister’s house. Already, you’ve seen more personality in him than you ever did during the brief meetings. It’s kind of nice to see him proudly nodding his head to your bedroom as if to invite you in properly like he should have done hours ago when you arrived. He took it upon himself to rearrange the room for maximum space. Arguably, you’re impressed. 
“I unpacked some of your things too.” He comments as he hugs your sister from behind in the doorway. “Needed to make sure the dresser drawers wouldn’t cave in.” 
Your eyes trail to the pretty dresser, painted white with even prettier trim on it. It’s the first time you’ve ever had a matching bedroom set. You head over and take a peek in the drawers, noting that he didn’t just haphazardly throw your clothes in there. 
Top drawer, all of your undergarments are fucking folded. Second drawer, socks, tights, and leggings, third drawer, soft pajama sets also folded. And the fourth drawer remains empty.
You turn to look at him, embarrassed by the fact that he took it upon himself to do that. You can’t see a single shred of embarrassment in his own face though, and it appears he really was just being nice. 
“Don’t be embarrassed. I do the laundry here so I’ll be folding those more often than you’d think.” He smiles, and your sister lends a chuckle. 
“He’s gotta do something while I’m making most of the money.” She shrugs, totally fine with the fact that her boyfriend just handled every piece of underwear you own save for the ones you’re wearing. 
“Closet too, hung up what I could but I’m like, really hungry so I figured I could leave the rest to you.” 
You nod in appreciation, in awe of your new room and the soft, plush carpet on your floor. Your old room was hard wood with dust filled corners, it felt cold. Here though? You feel welcomed, warm, and cozy. 
Hundreds of ideas flood your mind about how you want to decorate the room and as you go to start unpacking your miscellaneous items, your sister nods and backs out of the room with her boyfriend still hugging her from behind. 
There, you’re left to your own devices. 
Another thought crosses your mind when you hear the door close as well. The fact that you haven’t had a door to close for your bedroom since you snuck out all those years ago. The sound felt like music to your ears as you found yourself falling back on the bare mattress with a deep and relieved sigh. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
With all of the unpacking, wall art compositions, and napping in between, the week flew by quicker than you anticipated.
Waking up today, at half past two in the afternoon felt so good. Your duvet felt crispy, your room was completed and finally your own, and it felt safe. You could smell the breakfast cooking in the kitchen, and your sister’s voice paired with Heeseung ringing fondly at each other. 
Little bit strange that you didn’t wake up to silence in the house, considering Heeseung is usually just now heading to sleep with that fucked up sleep schedule and your sister is normally lounging in the living room with a snack, iced coffee, and watching her favorite reality shows. Save for when she’s at work all day, of course.
Still, you slowly pull yourself out of bed feeling happy and refreshed, stepping into your attached bathroom to do your morning routine before exiting the room, and then heading into the kitchen with a small “good morning.”
“It’s nearly three in the afternoon.” Your sister smiles at you. “But good morning to you too sis.”
Heeseung, seemingly dressed for the day with a band tee and a beanie on, lends you a glance and a wave as he swings back and forth in the kitchen, mixing pancake batter in a bowl for your sister and unaware of the speckle of said batter stuck in a strand of his hair. 
You lean over your sister’s shoulder after waving back to him, noting how she’s making little bite-sized pieces of pancake. Ah, this is the life, really. 
“Well? Don’t just stand there? Pour some juice or something. We need a big meal before tonight.” Your sister laughs at your sleepy content hum from behind her, noting how you act much like she did when she first got out of the childhood home. 
You take a step back, eyeing the room, trying to put the puzzle pieces together as to why Heeseung is awake and dressed and why she’s making a big meal to begin with. Both your sister and Heeseung note the confusion on your face. 
“Ah, she forgot.” He rumbles with a smirk, not keeping his eyes on you for too long as his focus falls back to mixing. 
“Did you really forget?” Your sister rolls her eyes with a spatula in hand, turning to you and putting her other hand on her hip. “Everyone seems excited to meet you, they’ll probably start pouring in around six or seven tonight.”
“Oh, right! The party!” You exclaim, shocked that you really did forget about it. With your sister’s promise of alcohol, you assume that explains the large breakfast, and also probably why Heeseung doesn’t look like a total slob.
“Yeah, the party.” Heeseung snickers, his back turned away from you but overall acting as if you’ve already lived here for months. Throwing the same sarcasm at you that your sister does. 
“Now go pour some juice, we have to go to the store after this and pick out drinks.” Your sister finally says, turning back to flip the pancakes in the pan. “You have drank since I moved out, right? You never wanted to try anything with me back then.”
You reluctantly nod your head, and your sister gasps fondly.
“Someone got into the liquor cabinet?” 
You nod with a laugh, knowing that you learned how to do it from her despite always being too chicken as a teenager to do it with her. The curiosity of being drunk didn’t outweigh the fear of being caught at all for you, at the time anyway. 
“Sunghoon is usually the one babysitting us, so no need to worry about pacing yourself.”  Heeseung comments along with his sneaky side eye at you. 
You don’t notice him do it at all, and even if you did you’d just assume it’s a passing glance. After all, you did open the fridge a little too hard.
“Sunghoon?” You ask. 
“One of my friends,” He raises his hand to his hair to try and shake out the now, obvious, speckle of batter that’s starting to dry in the strands. “By the way, when you go to bed tonight– make sure you lock your door.” He continues, turning around now and leaning against the counter just to watch you lift on your toes for some of the cups in the cabinet. 
His eyes watch the way you lift, your calf muscles flexing, your back arching slightly as you try to reach…And, well, he’s acting much like any man would, if he’s being honest, but ultimately he keeps his eyes to himself when your sister is turned or looking at him. 
“Noted.” You nod without paying much attention, pouring the drinks and now moving the filled glasses to the table.
You make brief eye contact with him, noting how he’s already looking at you while your sister is simply listening, facing the other way and mostly just focused on not burning the pancakes.
“I’m serious. Lock your door.” He repeats, scanning your body and judging just how dangerous it is for you to be living here. 
Mostly because he’s always found you quite cute, and he’s very aware that his friends probably will too. Hell, he’s already crossed a line with you since day one of you living here, he’s shocked you haven’t yet picked up on it, and knows very well that his friends will make moves instantly if you give them a chance. And with all things considered, you seem a bit too unaware of how attractive you are. 
“Hm?” You raise a brow as you make your way back to the kitchen. “I was going to, but now you’re making it sound important.”
“Well,” Your sister chimes in, stepping back once and holding out her hand. Heeseung is quick adjust his eyes, handing the fresh bowl of batter to her with a kiss to her cheek as if he wasn’t just eye fucking you. “All of them are single, and you’re just about as good looking as I am.” She laughs half-heartedly. 
She’s not trying to have an ego, but it’s best to warn you now at least. It’s not that she thinks she’s hot or anything, but she knows they think she is. And if that’s the case, they’re gonna be drooling over the younger, more single, version of herself. 
Heeseung rolls his eyes now though, leaning back against the counter and scanning you again the second your sister has her back turned. This time more blatantly. Eyes landing on the curve of your hips to the length of your legs. 
“Yeah.” He says, sucking in a breath with a half lidded gaze, letting his eyes trail down. “I’ll try to keep them at bay, though.” 
For Heeseung, there is nothing wrong with looking. For you? You feel very seen by him and it’s kind of throwing you for a loop. Your appearance becomes the main point of conversation and it makes you want to kind of leave the kitchen. 
“I doubt that’ll be an issue.” You try to laugh it off. 
“No, seriously.” Your sister says, turning to look at you briefly to give you a serious expression. “Back when I first met Heeseung, all four of them were after me. I swear, they’re more than just competitive with their games.” 
“I always win though.” Heeseung nods triumphantly, now keeping his eyes to himself and focusing more on his girlfriend.
“That, you do.” She boasts for him, leaning back after moving the pancakes to a plate and landing a kiss on his lips. 
You study how they move together. So in sync, not stepping on each other’s toes, ultimately moving in harmony. Likes it natural to them. She really does look happy, and he just looks like a guy who doesn’t know where to land his gaze. 
A normal guy, you think, who was given the same freedom your sister gives to you. It really is just who she is to take care of people, and the harsh judgment you originally had about Heeseung kind of fades a little bit as you watch them. 
You try not to study him too much though because damn, your sister knows how to pick them in terms of like, scale of attractiveness. Heeseung is the type of guy the two of you would giggle over at the mall. The type you’d silently bicker over from behind a store rack of jackets, or perhaps even fantasize about during a long and boring tv show with your parents. 
It’s not strange to find him attractive, because, well, he is. But you know your place here, and you’ve grown up to the point to know that you can appreciate a person’s looks and not need anything from them at the end of the day. 
However, you kind of hope his friends are at the same level as him. For one, to avoid having a secret crush on Heeseung, because who wouldn’t? And secondly, they’re single, just like you. 
Apparently they’re also a threat to the “innocence” both your sister and Heeseung seem to want to protect within you. 
“I’ll lock my door.” You say finally, receiving a happy nod from both of them as they continue their cooking and you make your way to the table. 
And while you do plan to lock your door, you also plan to take your time in getting dressed for the party. You kind of do want to be pounced at, or at least, feel the freedom of knowing you can look however you want without your parents forcing you into the ugliest outfit known to man. You know how to dress yourself, you’ve just never quite been allowed to do it. All those sneaky clothes your sister bought for you can finally come in handy. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
When your sister mentioned throwing you a welcome party, you expected a gathering of friends standing around awkwardly sipping wine coolers. What you didn’t expect was for there to be mood lighting, music, an array of nicely dressed people, and a large gaming set up in the living room where the big screen television was muted and a maximum of eight at a time could go head to head on super smash bros. 
You found yourself enjoying it more and more as the night went on and you became more comfortable being greeted by strangers. Each drink you were handed mostly came from your sister, but by the time she stopped making her own drinks and began to drink whatever the hell-mix her friends were giving to her, Heeseung was the one handing you drinks. 
“Come here–” Heeseung says over the blaring music, still floored by how good you look now versus how good you looked this morning. To him, the drinks he’s having paired with you running around looking like this? It’s even more dangerous than he thought as he continuously finds himself staring, and finds you seemingly still unaware of it. 
 “I’ll show you how to mix this one.”
Your sister was off somewhere in the house with her group of pretty friends, and you’ve really only briefly met everyone as they walked in the door. The drinks in your system make you want to actually mingle though. Everyone else is mingling, everyone else looks comfortable and happy to enjoy the party. It drives you to feel the same.
You nod to Heeseung with warmth in your cheeks, noting that he looks about as tipsy as you do when he stumbles his way back into the brightly lit kitchen with you. Your eyes burn at the light, as do his, and he groans at it before opening the fridge and pulling out the cranberry juice. 
“Your sister said you’ve probably only chugged from a bottle, so I opted to give you the easiest drink to make.” He explains in a slight slur, setting the juice on the counter and ultimately knocking it with his elbow when he turns to grab the vodka bottle. “Cranberry juice and vodka.”
You feel endeared by his genuine smile and embarrassed laugh at the way he knocked over the juice, watching him in his own element and comfort zone. It makes you feel a little guilty that he’s been the one making your drinks, only because your sister must have asked him to by the time she got too drunk. 
Heeseung seems to do just about everything she asks of him, and while you’re thankful, you feel a little bad that he’d probably rather be in the other room with his friends rather than trapped in this empty and terribly lit kitchen teaching you how to make a fucking mixed drink. 
“I put about–” He starts, grabbing your cup and pouring it half full with vodka. “this much into yours.”
In your own state, it’s not like you’d know what’s too much or what’s too little to put into a drink, but so far everything he’s handed to you tasted good. So, you nod at him, attempting to focus in on the cup.
“And this much juice.” He continues, now pouring not enough juice into the vodka.
From this angle, watching him from behind, you pause for a moment in your tipsy brain. Distracted by the way his shoulders flex when he’s grabbing that big ass bottle of juice, but you’re quick to tear your eyes away. He’s just a nice looking guy, dressed up for the first time since you moved in, you can’t fucking help it. Surely your sister would understand if she ever caught you checking him out, right?
“Then just stir it.” He adds now, turning to face you and dipping two fingers deep into the liquid of your cup, swirling them, then handing you the drink. 
He sucks the remaining mixture off of his fingers in a blatant show of his interest that you’re still far too aloof to pick up, watching you pretend he didn’t catch you staring. And with his fingers still in his mouth, he smirks around them, giving you a pleased expression when you take a sip from the cup. 
You glance up just for a second when you taste the same exact drink he’s been making you for the past forty five minutes and nod, trying not to focus on the way his tongue darts between his fingers twice before he pulls them out of his mouth. 
“Good?” He asks for confirmation, and when you smile and nod again, his eyes stare harder. 
Surely it’s just because you’re drunk, but you swear he’s giving you bedroom eyes, and paired with what he just did with his tongue….well. He looks at you similar to how he did this morning. And when you moved in. And back during that one Holiday party he attended at your childhood home. 
Definitely the alcohol. Like, he’s dating your sister. She’s the prettier one, the more successful one, the one with more personality. You’re just you. No way in hell is he really looking at you the same way he looks at her. It’s just your boosted confidence of finally being able to wear such a skimpy outfit. It’s just the liquid courage, that’s all. 
“You know–” He starts this time, leaning against the counter like he did this morning while helping your sister cook, trying to appear casual, cool, and perhaps attractive in this stance. “When I was beating Jay’s ass on smash bros earlier, he mentioned you.” 
You continue to sip your drink, feeling a buzzing in your chest and ears as you listen to him. Far more able now to have any conversation he could throw at you compared to any other day. Even with the thought in your head that he might be checking you out.
“Oh? Which one is Jay again?” You ask, leaning slightly to peek around the wall at the crowd of bodies just a room over. Interest peaking solely because the majority of people in this house right now are like, next level attractive. Maybe this Jay guy can take your thoughts off of your sister’s fucking boyfriend. 
“The one with the sunglasses on his head, wearing all black.” He starts, leaning close next to you and pointing just in front of your line of sight. “He’s a fucking loser, though.” 
You look at the guy, trying to remember the short greeting he gave to you. A nod of his head when he pushed those same sunglasses up and into his hair. He threw a very quick glance at you, to your face, chest, legs, then back to your face where he nodded again before making his way into the kitchen to make himself a drink.  You think, maybe, that Jay guy judged you positively upon meeting you. 
“He didn’t even tell me his name, no wonder I didn’t know which one he was.” You lend a drunken laugh as you check him out, sipping your drink again while listening to Heeseung laugh next to you. 
His laugh sounds closer, which makes sense considering he’s now leaning his weight on you with his elbow on your shoulder, resting his head there. 
“I thought he was that one–” You say, now pointing your own finger to the other guy you met briefly, the one with the longer hair, dyed blonde with hella untouched roots.. 
He had a nice smile when he greeted you, leaning in for a warm hug with a small “great to finally meet you.” His clothes drastically differed from Jay’s though. Far more casual and normal, loose jeans and a large hoodie just like what Heeseung seems to wear so often, except the colors were a bit brighter.
“Nah, that’s Jake.” Heeseung snorts, breathing in your scent as he leans into you as closely as he can, letting the stands of his hair poking out from his beanie tickle your neck. “Careful with that one, he’s a pervert.” 
You’re quick to admit interest in this one too, swatting Heeseung’s hair from your neck without thinking much about it. Which, arguably, doesn’t quite sit well with him.
Not only are you almost entirely ignoring him now, but it’s his fault for pointing out his friends to you again despite his attempts at making them appear unappealing to you. It seems that his girlfriend’s little sister is a bit too eager to look at guys, yet not eager enough to look at him.
“Oh yeah?” You look for a little too long at Jake, in Heeseung’s opinion, as he draws his finger over to the very sober Sunghoon. 
“You remember meeting him though, he made sure of it.” Heeseung rolls his eyes from beside you, leaning hard. “Also a pervert, just a little less obvious. I’d steer clear.” 
“Is Jay the only one that isn’t a pervert?” You ask off handedly in a shy chuckle, bobbing your head now to the music bumping against the walls. 
“God, did I not just tell you he mentioned you?” Heeseung shifts his weight to his other leg, skewing his head and looking straight down your shirt. “He asked if you were like your sister, the freak.”
He leans away from you at that point, noting that your drink is already near empty again and needing to refill it so that way he can push his own opinions into that empty little brain of yours. 
“What do you mean, like my sister?” You ask, watching him take the cup from you and place it right there in front of the same ingredients he just used to make the drink before. 
“Well,” He tilts his head back slightly when he turns to prepare the drink, eyes looking at you in a dark and somewhat scary way, still with a charming smile though. “Your big sis kind of got a little dirty on our first date. Guess Jay hopes you’re the same.”
Heeseung hopes you are too, but not for them. 
And, for you? It’s not like you’ve ever been given a chance to do such a thing. However, upon meeting and then re-meeting his friends from afar, all of them really are quite attractive. Maybe you could follow in your sister’s footsteps just to say that yes, you fuck on the first date too.
“I guess I am a bit like her.” You say offhandedly, looking away from Heeseung and tipping your head back around the corner to check the three men out again.
And when Heeseung turns to give you another full drink, he snaps his fingers. 
“Get back in here.” He says, and when you turn to face him again, his eyes land right back on your chest. 
“I’d advise against it.” He slurs at seeing your curious gaze land on one specific friend, stirring your drink with his fingers much like he did before. “Jay is a slut.”
“All of them are, actually.”
Unfortunately, Heeseung’s warnings go through one ear and out the other. He can see it, especially with the way you place that drink up to your lips and make your way into the living room, leaving him behind without so much as a “thank you”. 
And when you sit, directly between Jay and Jake, both of them turn their heads from the large TV screen, which allows Sunghoon to land some pretty major blows on them until he, himself, turns his head to witness two drunk idiots and a pretty girl between them. 
“Heeseung said you asked about me.” You state boldly, leaning into the wrong person to say it. 
“Well, he’s a liar.” Jake bellows out, studying how drunk you are and glancing up at Jay with a snide grin. Raising his brows and gripping his controller. 
“That would be me who asked.” Jay pipes in, and it’s the first time you’ve heard his voice directly address you, but man, alcohol is fun. It makes you feel even more bold when you turn to look at him with a face that you assume shows interest.
“Why didn’t you just ask me yourself?” You ask, ignoring that you fumbled the greeting.
“You weren’t drunk enough,” Jay laughs, ignoring the screen as it gives Sunghoon his win. “I see now though,” He looks you up and down, slouching back against the couch and stretching his arm wide around the back of it, and you.” You’re definitely drunk.”
You nod happily, eyes turning to Jake, who is still just checking you out. 
“Sure am.” You laugh, hopping up in one motion and turning to face them. “Heeseung also told me that you’re all fucking perverts, so.”
Jay and Jake both lend a “what the fuck, bro?” face at Heeseung, who was slouched against the wall, yet again, watching how you interact with his friends.  He simply shrugs at them with a malicious smile into his drink. After all, he’s the one on top of the world right now. Not only does he have a hot as fuck girlfriend who lets him live and do as he pleases, but now he’s got a younger version of her running around, acting like she knows how to whore herself out.
He can tell you’re just like her in that regard. Ready, willing, wanting to experience everything all at once if the world throws it at you. From the way you sat between his friends to the way you snitched on him with a pretty smile on your face. Oh man, the guys probably love you already.
“So, what?” Jay rolls his eyes as Jake watches you stand on wobbling legs. “You don’t like to get laid?”
You bellow out a laugh that nearly throws you off balance, but Jake is very quick to lunge forward and grab your arm to steady you, forcing you to spill your drink all over yourself and him. 
“Sure I do,” You ignore the blatant show of your mindstate and instead, remember how you’ve actually had plenty of sex during whatever time you could fit, in whatever place was hidden enough that didn’t involve your own home. “Why, you trying to get some?”
Jay smirks at you as Jake holds your half-spilled drink, listening to you flirt and smiling much the same way. 
“Maybe.” Jay shrugs, side eyeing both of his friends. “You gonna give it up?” He adds, now blatantly checking you out from head to toe, liking very much what he’s seeing. 
“Nope.” Heeseung suddenly cuts in, staring his three friends in the face as he grabs your drink from Jake and hands it back to you before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pretending to be the knight in shining armor your sister wants him to be. 
You look back at the three men as Heeseung leads you away, then you note that Sunghoon shrugs at you.
“What the hell?” You ask, slightly annoyed with Heeseung and the lights of the kitchen blinding you once again. “I was busy.”
“Busy doing what? Teasing my friends?” Heeseung shakes his head as he turns away from you, placing your cup down and opening the bottles back up. “You’re playing a dangerous game, babe, I’d stop if I were you.” 
“And? Maybe I like it.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how the alcohol radiates behind your eyes and lends two Heeseungs to pretend you’re not attracted to. At least with his friends, you can be more open about it. 
Heeseung stops making your drink and turns to look at you and the way your eyes struggle to adjust. He’s entirely floored by that statement. The fact that you’ve kept to yourself for the most part since you’ve moved in, and now you’re all cute and drunk in front of him revealing just how much of a whore you might be if you were given the chance? Damn. 
“Your sister would kill you.” He says, turning back to your drink and knowing that your sister probably wouldn’t actually give a shit if you fuck his friends. He does though. 
“I mean, I guess I won’t stop you.” He lies, now turning back to make your drink the exact same way and giving it to you despite knowing he shouldn’t be giving you more. 
“Can honestly say you’re a bit too pretty for them, though.” He adds in a snide compliment, wanting so badly to flirt but doing his best to appear like it’s totally normal for him to say these things. 
And as he notes your stare at him, processing the words, he takes this moment to grab a towel from the sink to dab away at the drink that you previously spilled all over yourself. 
You look at him, watching him dab the towel against your arm. He seems focused on doing it, pretty face and clear skin shining in these morgue lights in the kitchen compared to everywhere else in the house. And then, you note how when he looks up, his eyes stop momentarily at the amount of cleavage you’re revealing for this occasion. Hah, he probably thinks his messy strands of hair hid his eyes from you, but you saw it. 
“Oh, I get it.” You take in a deep inhale, reaching to pull his beanie over his eyes and letting out a bold laugh because really, you’re pretty drunk by this point. “You’re a pervert too.”
Heeseung shrugs, lifting the beanie back up and standing much taller in front of you. He skews his head down, looking right past your face and down your shirt this time. Proud of seeing the curve of them and the space between that could probably stimulate any cock you squeeze there.
“Maybe, yeah.” He smirks, taking a slight step closer and letting both arms trap you against the counter, hovering above you with an intimidating stance. “Maybe even more than they are.” He adds, already preparing himself to press his hips up and against you, uncaring of how it would look if he were to be found like this with you. 
Unfortunately, he’s forced to care because there’s a happy pair of footsteps making their way to the kitchen, and he really should not have been about to do that in the first place. He stumbles back at the sound, smiling at you with a quick, tipsy wink. 
It leaves you a little dizzy as you stare at him with a weird kind of aroused feeling in your gut. Surely that’s the alcohol too, it has to be. You’re very quick to shrug off the small intimate moment as you hear your sister’s loud and booming voice calling out his name.
You watch as she envelopes him in a fraction of a second, lifting on her unbalanced feet to immediately start making out with him. 
You’re not sure why you stand there and watch for a second, a little zoned out before Heeseung opens his eyes briefly and looks at you throughout the bruising kiss he’s currently an active participant of. 
There’s that same look again, only this time he’s doing it while licking into your sister’s mouth. You’re so fucking confused right now. All the signals have to be your imagination, right?
You snap out of the daze then, whispering a small “ill just go somewhere else.” before leaving the kitchen and finding yourself at the table just outside of it. 
You try to keep your eyes to yourself at this point regarding Heeseung, feeling all of the buzz and heat in your gut at the idea of being allowed to be openly sexually attracted to just about any man you lay eyes on. He’s nothing special, just a handsome guy. His friends are just as attractive, right?
And as you trail your eyes around the room trying to find someone to go mingle with, you are instead surrounded by your sister’s friends. Still, when you glance to the living room, every single time, either Jake, Jay, or that other guy is watching you with eyes that you’ve read before from other men.
Arguably, the same eyes Heeseung gave you just a few minutes before. At least with them, you know you’re not reading those bedroom eyes wrong.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Give me a week.” Jake says, elbowing Jay in the side and taking a hefty sip of his terribly mixed drink as his eyes drift to the new girl surrounded by other hot girls. “I'll be in her bed before the week is up..” 
Jay rolls his eyes, standing from the couch and stretching out his own tipsy limbs as he walks to Sunghoon and sits on that couch instead. 
“Three days for me then.” He says, giving Jake a too-confident face. “I could go over there right the fuck now and have her on her knees, probably.” He says as he looks at you, fitting in so well with the group of girls. Possibly being the hottest one too. “Maybe.”
Sunghoon rolls his eyes at his slurring best friends, clearly drunker than they realize. 
“You both take the wrong approach.” He says, stiffening his shoulders before slouching entirely against the couch, considering ditching the baby-sitting job and having a drink as well. “You think they’d just let you fuck her? I’ll get her to go on a date with me first. Get her legs open in my car after.”
“Quite frankly, Sunghoon, I don’t really give a shit if they’d let me. I’m going to get some of that.” Jay responds.
All three of them are staring at you, thankfully, you don’t seem to notice as you fall into a conversation with that same group of girls, plus your sister now. And just as Jake was about to add more to the conversation, Heeseung makes his way in. 
“Don’t–” Heeseung slurs as he flops beside Jake, letting his heavy limbs hurt his friend. “–even think about it, Jakey boy.” He says, knowing for a fact what all three of his whore friends are thinking. They’ve been staring and glancing at you all night.
Jake avoids eye contact, because he’s definitely thinking about it. 
“No worries.” Jay shrugs. “We’re just looking, that’s all.”
Somehow, someway, all three of Heeseung’s friends pick up on what Jay is putting down. Ah, a deal of leaving him out, they suppose. 
After all, Heeseung already managed to bag your sister. They know he’d keep her little sister off limits to them too. Out of respect or some shit, probably. Bro code, all of that. 
“Keep it that way.” He hums, shoving Jake and laughing. “She’s too hot for you guys anyway, just like her sister.”
There’s a shared look between the three as Sunghoon lunges for Jay’s drink and takes a sip of it. 
“Heeseung, we’re crashing here tonight.” He bellows out through tangy lips. 
And, well, Heeseung didn’t argue because he knows he’s not in a state to really give a shit at this point. The only thing he needs to be focused on right now is willing his cock to soften up a bit before he does something drastic about it.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Heeseung thinks hard as he looks at himself in the mirror. He’s seeing two of himself which is kind of funny in one aspect, but also terrifying because he didn’t intend to drink this much.
Why is he so upset to see his friends go for you? You’ve been here a week and he’s already feeling so jealous? Really? Then again, he knew from the moment your sister told him you were moving you that it was going to be either very interesting or incredibly difficult. 
Mostly because he’s stolen glances at you for years. Wondering when you’d ever come to visit, always looking so pretty and happy during those brief holiday gatherings. Oh yes, he’s had his eye on you for a fucking while. And now? You’re living here? And coming onto his friends right after he warned you not to? 
For the past hour as he sipped and watched you roam the house, back and forth between the girls, your sister, and his boys, he couldn’t help but scoff at you for it. You haven’t spoken to him since the kitchen incident. A little bit of a blatant moment on his part, he admits, he even surprised himself with that.
Still, this protective feeling doesn’t come from being your future brother in law. Absolutely not. It stems entirely from the twitch in his pants he’s gotten nearly every single moment he’s gotten to take a long look at you. 
It was manageable before, where he’d see you maybe once or twice a year. But now? It’s every single day, and it pisses him off that you’re not mingling with him during this party. 
He stares at himself, bobbing his head to the music in the mirror before leaning forward against the counter and inching closer and closer to his own face.Finally, he can focus in and see only one of himself looking back in the mirror. 
All he sees is a man who has managed to bag himself the perfect woman. One willing to coddle him and take care of him like a mother would, one willing to let him float through life unemployed for the time being, one that doesn’t entirely let him fuck the way he wants to solely because she’s far too confident in herself to let him pull such a thing with her. 
Heeseung tilts his head at himself as he examines his face in the mirror, knocking his beanie off and running his fingers through his hair. Leaning back and once again to relish in his own doubled vision.
What he really sees looking back at him in that mirror is a man who bagged himself an almost perfect woman who appears to have a truly perfect sister. It’s the fact that suddenly, he can admit that he is bored in the bedroom, and a man who is far too eager to ignore that if he got the chance, he would be just like his friends regarding you.
He would be getting your number and asking to see what those tits look like under that skimpy shirt you’re wearing tonight. You’d probably show them too, considering the fact that you lived your entire life up until this point barred by church sermons and non-existent doors that offer no privacy to so much as finger yourself. You’re probably dying to experience all of the things you were already supposed to be well acquainted with at your age. 
And as he thinks about it, head spinning in thoughts of what he’s already done just moments after you officially moved in, he slips his hand down. Groping himself through his jeans and staring down at the bulge that sits just above the counter. 
He hangs his head, smirking and shivering at the small touch he lends to his own length. It’s the fact that he just got hard over the confirmation of being sexually unsatisfied in his own bedroom. The shamed truth that he stood here thinking a little too hard about what kind of nudes you’d send if he ever chose to ask for them, it’s not something he’s ashamed of either. 
In fact, the thought of sneaking out of the bed while your sister sleeps just to slip into your room and cover your pretty little mouth in his cum? That’s more arousing than knowing he could just leave the bathroom right now and fuck your sister. 
And he stands there for a few minutes testing that theory, running his fingers along the swollen inseam of his pants in a careful way, like his girlfriend does. He twitches once at the feeling, glancing up at himself in the mirror again, trying hard to imagine her in this bathroom with him. 
Another twitch, weaker this time. He laughs at himself quietly in defeat before breathing in a deep inhale through his nose, allowing the muffled music just outside of the door to fade off through his hot ears and aroused mind. 
He closes his eyes briefly when he grabs himself now. Rougher, harsher, messier. Trying to mimic the hand of a woman who probably hasn’t done this too much, trying to mimic what he thinks you’d do. His hips shift forward almost immediately and without intention, chasing the feeling of inexperience. Chasing the thought of someone that isn’t his girlfriend. He chuckles more now, confirming his theory.
Chasing it with his eyes closed up until he does open his eyes and sees himself looking so out of it for you. Knowing that you’re just ten feet away if he were to walk out of this bathroom right now, so drunk and cute, you probably wouldn’t think twice about giving it to him. Knowing that if he really wanted to, he could take you the way he’s always wanted your sister and you'd probably love every second of it. 
He’d fuck you better. You’d be tighter, wetter, and louder for him than she ever has been.
And just as he goes to slide his hand down the front of his pants, intending to fuck his own fist to the thought of you tonight rather than turning that lock behind his own door to get between your sister’s legs, there’s a loud knock on the door. He jumps at the sound, adjusting his pants right back to where they belong before whipping around a bit too quickly and sending a bottle of perfume clattering to the floor in a loud POP sound.
“Shit-” He groans, smelling the intense aroma of what your sister wears, forcing his mind back to the reality of not being allowed to fuck you. 
He tiptoes around the broken glass, nostrils burning at the strong scent before swinging the door open with an annoyed roll of his eyes. 
“Heeeeeeeeseungie!” Your sister sings, fumbling over and leaning on him instantly with her arms circling his shoulders. She’s so gone that she doesn’t even notice the scent of her favorite perfume that just got destroyed. 
“Hey honey,” Heeseung says calmly, appearing far more sober despite being a bit buckled at the knees. “Need help?”
She nods against his chest, unaware of his softening cock that wasn’t at all raging for her just moments before.
“There’s glass all over the floor right now, let’s go use your sister’s bathroom.” 
The length in his pants shrank nearly instantly upon feeling her cling to him like this, with that cute, high pitched, voice she tends to use when she’s needy. He tries not to think about that though. Coming to terms with the fact that what used to get him off is currently turning him off? That’s too much of a dangerous thought right now. 
“Mhm,” Your sister hums as he guides her to your closed bedroom door.  “Wait!” Your sister panics, coming to her drunk senses for just long enough to blurt “She came in here with Sunghoon earlier, we should knock.”
Heeseung stiffens for a moment, pausing his step just outside your bedroom door. The weight of his own girlfriend against him should be something he loves right now, but he just finds himself wishing she’d get the fuck off of him. 
The fact he’s somehow more pissed about you behind this door, probably giving it to Sunghoon, than he is in love with his girlfriend right now? Telling. He knocks once before immediately turning your door knob. Locked.
“Hey, your sister needs to use the bathroom.” Heeseung shouts right up against the crack of the door, wiggling the knob. “Open up!”
“Use the other bathroom!” You shout back in a muffled and far away sounding voice. 
Heeseung stands there, pretending he doesn’t notice the sound of shuffling on the other side when the song booming through the speakers changes for a split second. 
“Can’t use the other bathroom! There’s glass on the floor!” 
Silence from the other side of the door for a brief moment then, click! You crack it open, cheeks flushed and eyes struggling to focus on him. Heeseung immediately pushes the door open to reveal not only Sunghoon, but Jake and Jay all three lounging around your room.
Still fully clothed, at least, but he can tell at least one of them appears to be struggling to hide his hard on. (Jake.)
Heeseung narrows his eyes at all three of the men. Jake sitting stiffly on the floor at the end of your bed, hands over his lap. Jay, lounging on your bed, as if he’s been on it a thousand times with a half-boner on full display. And then Sunghoon, clearly feeling some type of buzz as he’s the only one still drinking, leaning right up against the dresser that Heeseung built himself.
“Ooh,” Your sister hums, wiggling her finger at you.”Scandalous.” 
You lend her a shy smile as you take a step back, willing them sooner rather than later to leave solely because you were busy in here.
Not like, fucking or anything. Just having a nice, innocent, conversation with three hot guys. That’s all. Plus, you’d never have been able to handle sitting alone in a room with these three if it weren’t for the alcohol in your system anyway. Especially with the way you initially only invited Sunghoon into your room to show him how you had the same style of socks he was wearing. Jake immediately followed both of you, followed by Jay, who was the one who closed the door and locked it. 
And you pay no mind to Heeseung and your sister walking to your bathroom on unbalanced steps, you find yourself flopping back on the bed right beside Jay instead.
None of them have done anything at all to make you feel awkward or like this situation is dangerous either. In fact, the only thing you guys have talked about are the mutual interests that you share. 
Poor you, so aloof when drunk. Unable to comprehend the fact that every single one of the guys in your room right now have made attempts to steer the conversation in their own way to things not so innocent. 
You do try to ignore what happened in the kitchen with Heeseung though, avoiding eye contact with him as he makes his way back out of your room after helping with your sister. You think he’s glaring, maybe, but oh well.
“Anyway, back at home my dad would have never let me wear band shirts.”
“That’s tough.” Jay comments, side eyeing your chest in that top and low-key wondering how nice your tits would look braless, under one of his band shirts. “Bet he didn’t know he raised not one, but two sneaky daughters.”
You smile triumphantly, ignoring the shadow of your sister that they force you into. 
“They made it really hard to break rules. Now though? I get to wear stuff like this and hang out with guys like you.” 
“Yeah,” Jake trails off, turning his body to peek at you from the end of the bed. “Probably not the smartest move on your part.”
You bring your attention to him, seeing a blur of charming eyes and messy hair. 
“What do you mean?”
“What he means is that, it’s probably not ideal to get shit faced then lock yourself in a room with three horny guys.” Sunghoon asserts, pushing off of the dresser and now setting himself on the foot of your bed. “You can’t tell?” 
You, for some reason, are astonished at his words. Sunghoon, compared to the other two, seemed more quiet and reserved if you’re being honest. Then again, you’ve only known these guys for a few hours by this point. What you do know about Sunghoon, is that he’s horrifyingly attractive in the way he carries himself, which you can’t really say the same for Jake or Jay. 
With his perfected dark hair and tall stance. he looms around with each expression on his face leaving little to the imagination in the way his eyebrows accentuate whatever thought flows behind his eyes. Somehow, he’s still the hardest to read, as you watch him assert his own form of dominance on your bed. 
You’re blissfully unaware of how tame Sunghoon was actually being at this moment though. All three of them, they’re competing to see who fucks you first, and whoever wins? Ah, not only do they get a paid night at the bar out of it, but both losers have to fork over another sum of money equal to that of two seasons worth of battle passes to whatever game the winner may choose to play. 
“I think this is a good time to hand you my phone, give me your number.” Jay cuts in quite quickly, ignoring the way Sunghoon invites himself into the space he created with you. 
Jay doesn’t even let you process his words as he tosses his phone to the side and at you, watching it land on your stomach before sliding off to the other side of you. 
“Ah, you’re cute.” He chuckles upon noting your terrible coordination skills of grabbing said phone. 
“Well, I’m drunk, so.” You dead-pan, freezing when you feel him lean over you to grab the phone himself, staying there and hovering over you with it in his hand.
You let out a small gasp when you meet his eyes, staring straight through you. 
Sunghoon rolls his eyes at Jay’s blatant show of interest, and Jake simply watches. Studies how you react to the forwardness.
“Go on.” Jay encourages you, holding the phone directly in front of you, where your eyes are still glued to his confident face, as if he’s not practically caging you in on your own bed like this. “Type it in.”
You do. Somehow managing to type your number perfectly on the screen placed in front of you, and he’s quick to turn the phone to himself, flicking his eyes back and forth between you and the screen as he presses the call button.
Your phone vibrates from the dresser and Jay gives a victorious and somewhat dark smile. 
“One for me, zero for the idiots.” He laughs, lending you one more glance, a squeeze of his palm against your waist, and then he’s moving off of you and your bed as a whole. “Call me when you kick them out, I’ll sleep in here tonight.” He adds, leaving no room for argument before leaving the room entirely.
That leaves Sunghoon and Jake, sitting there trying to pretend it wasn’t expected of Jay to at least get your number first. He always starts strong, then again, he also always fumbles hard when things get gritty. In game and out of game. 
“What a prick.” Sunghoon sighs, flopping back on the end of your bed and forcing you to shift your legs up and press them together to make room for his broad body.
He turns his face to look at you from down here, watching you spread your legs to look back at him. The motion is innocent at best, because you seem to trust that he’s not trying to be a pervert right now. Oh, but he is. 
He looks at you from this angle hard, realizing how easy it could be to shift just a foot in the right direction to have his face right where you’d probably like it. 
And you note the way he’s looking at you.
“Do you guys like…” You glance away from him, over to Jake who is now making his own way onto the bed where Jay was lying before. You shift for a moment, feeling like prey. “Do you guys always share a girlfriend?”
Jake snorts. 
“Share?!” He laughs at your question more before settling back against your pillows and landing his hand on your thigh. Easy, simple, and obvious. “We don’t share anything.” He explains now, feeling the fabric of your bottoms and pushing your legs closed so that Sunghoon can’t lay down there and think up all sorts of fantasies. 
“You’re gonna have to pick.” Sunghoon says in an annoyed tone, glaring at Jake for closing your legs.
He lifts up on his arms now, raising a brow. 
“I’ll give you some advice though.” He says, noting how you listen to him more than you do Jake. “Jay has the stamina of a dead horse.”
Snorting only for a moment, you think hard about Jay. Noting his cool and collected demeanor. Uncaring, somewhat cold, but his face seemed warm and endearing when he looked at you from time to time. You could sense the confidence in him from the moment he looked at you when he walked into this house. Instant attraction, without even knowing his name, is what you felt. With that sleek hair style and pretty hands gripping a full bottle of tequila. He probably has more stamina than Sunghoon gives him credit for.
“And Jake.” Sunghoon laughs this time, pointing directly at the guy lying next to you. “Two strokes and he’s out of the game.”
You laugh again looking over to Jake, who stares at Sunghoon with a dark glare. 
“What the fuck dude? That was one time!” He defends himself, babbling about how it was the first time he ever had sex, and how he can go way longer now. 
“Me, on the other hand.” Sunghoon perks up as he runs his hands through his hair before smiling at you. “I just want to take you on a date.”
Ding ding ding! We have a winner. 
“Really?” You ask, floored over possibly landing your first date in years that your parents wouldn’t be attending.
“Of course.” He nods politely, ignoring that Jake is even in the room now. “I’m not the kind of guy who is just trying to get between your legs.” He lies easily, glaring at Jake again for closing your legs earlier.
“So, what do you say?” Sunghoon encourages you to pick him at this moment, and the nod you give has him pulling his own phone out, asking you to tell him your number rather than forcing you to type it into his phone. 
You smile as you give him the numbers, not at all seeing Jake try to sneakily type it into his phone as well. 
“Good.” Sunghoon says, flopping back on your bed and now using his own hand to part your legs again. You look at him from above and feel elated by how petty and clean cut he is. “Don’t call Jay when I leave, then.”
You hum a confirmation, stretching out your arms and feeling confident as all hell at the way tonight has gone. Up until, well, Sunghoon makes his way out of the room and tries to drag Jake with him. Only because he knows Jake is awful at talking to girls but man, do they swoon if they’re into desperate guys. You seem to be into just about anyone, if Sunghoon is honest with himself. 
“Come on, dickhead.” Sunghoon gripes at Jake, grabbing his hoodie and physically trying to drag him out of the room. 
“I’m not going anywhere.” Jake says, pressing all of his body weight against your mattress and kicking Sunghoon away from him. “Play fair or I’ll tell her about last weekend.”
Sunghoon instantly avoids eye contact with him, knowing that if Jake were to spill the beans on how he forgot to leave the server during his uh…session, a date would be out of the question not only for now, but for good.
“You’re the fucking worst.” He grimaces before releasing Jake’s hoodie and stepping out of the room, only half wondering if he should truly let Jake shoot his shot as well.
Ultimately, Sunghoon finds himself stepping out of the door and directly into Jay. 
“Well played.” Jay comments. “Guess I’ll just have to prove to her that you’re full of shit, won’t I?” 
Sunghoon smiles a wicked grin, eyes narrowing at Jay. 
“You won’t even get the chance.” He says, looking past Jay and down the hallway at Heeseung, who is shooting a death-glare at them. “Oh, check it.” He changes the subject by shoving Jay in the side to look at their friend. “He’s mad.”
Jay turns to look at whatever it is Sunghoon is talking about and simply laughs. 
“He can tell something is up. Maybe we should tell him?” Jay asks, crossing his arms in interest. 
“Eventually.” Sunghoon laughs as he pushes past Jay and makes his way to the kitchen for another drink.
Jake, on the other hand, is fucking vibrating as he sits alone in this room with you, dodging the questions about what Sunghoon did last weekend to cause such a reaction with an entirely made up sob story. 
“Oh my god?” You coo out, turning to face him entirely. “That’s so sad!”
Jake mumbles, nodding his head as if he pities himself with a pout on his face. 
“Yeah, I guess that’s just how things go for me though.” He shrugs, blinking at you with the biggest and softest eyes he can manage. 
“I can’t believe she did that!” You bellow out now, entirely invested in the backstory of the love life he lost just a few months prior. “With her own cousin, too?!”
Jake nods again with that same pout, looking as defeated as he can, trying to be as charming as he possibly can.
You lean forward to give him a some form of hug at this moment, drunken emotion overtaking you as you sit and watch this poor guy pour his little broken heart out. 
“If it makes you feel any better, my last boyfriend broke up with me because my dad threatened him.”
“No, that’s awful.” He chuckles sadly, shaking his head at you. “We’re both just unlucky, huh?”
He nods his head, seemingly to get you to shadow his actions, and as expected, you do. You nod to confirm his words, still invested in the fact that such a nice looking guy got fucked over like that, only to be made fun of by his friends for it. 
So invested that you don’t note the way he keeps his hand on your leg or moves it upwards inch by inch. 
“Can we change the subject?” Jake pouts harder, looking at you with sparkling eyes.. 
“Yeah, of course–” 
“You’re really, really, pretty.” He suddenly blurts, looking you in the eye and using his other hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face. You totally believed his entire story, if the saddened look in your eye is anything to go by. “I think you should go on a date with me instead.”
You break eye contact, looking down again and only just now noticing his hand on your leg. Only just now noticing that hard-on he’s sporting in his pants. 
“Jake.” You say, lifting your eyes back to him. “Are you–hard?” You lift your brows in pity again with the subject change, drunken brain telling you that he’s probably crawling in his skin over how hard he is, and how sad everything is for him. 
“Oh, over this?” He asks, dropping his hand and blatantly groping himself. “A little. It always happens when someone as good looking as you gives me the time of day.”
Oh, how sweet. How cute. The fact that Jake gets hard simply over someone being nice to him? 
“Well, don’t worry!” You try to perk him up, not at all realizing that he’s full of shit. “I know it’s not because you’re trying to get into my pants or anything. I won’t tell anyone.” You nod to him with a smile before– Uh oh.
“Well, actually–” Jake tries to start, already about to make his move when he notices the color on your face change and you’re fumbling to the bathroom. 
And just like that, Jake has failed, as he stumbles out of your bed and to your locked bathroom door. 
“Are you okay?” He asks with a sweet and caring voice.
Silence from the other end save for the sound of your sink running full blast probably to mask the sounds of your stomach trying to evacuate the copious amounts of alcohol that’s been fed to you. 
So much for the pancakes being a fix-all solution. And with that, Jake leaves the room while pulling out his phone, texting the number he stole when you gave it to Sunghoon. 
Jake: hey, don’t be embarrassed about getting sick. I’m gonna crash on the couch so if you need me i’ll be there.
After that, the party is pretty much over. Everyone save for the three perverts, Heeseung, and your sister remain.
This leaves your sister already passed out and tucked into her bed by none other than Heeseung himself, Jay already asleep on the couch, Sunghoon piled up on the floor between the dining room and the living room. Probably to create a barrier that would wake him if Jay really tried to get into your room.
And poor fucking Jake, forced to actually pity himself as he curls his body up on the love seat in the living room, pretending that it’s totally big enough for him to be comfortable here.
Heeseung looms around the house once everything goes silent, checking to be sure no one has passed out or died in a corner before coming back to the living room and staring at all three of his bitch-ass friends. 
On one hand, he’s glad they’re in the living room and not in your room. On the other hand, he wants to smother all three of them. One by one.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Heeseung is in his head for a solid three days after the party. So much that his focus is more on you than his games. Which is super fucked up when he thinks about it. That’s why, when your sister heads off to work, he’s plotting in his head every time. He needs you to like him somehow. 
The thoughts loop in his mind. From images of him pinning you up and against that kitchen counter again, to the fantasy image of you dropping to your knees in front of him. If anything, it’s not that he needs to fuck you, he just needs you to want him to.
And this is why he finds himself orbiting you. Finding reasons to come into your room, or reasons to get you out of it. 
“I’m gonna do some laundry, do you have anything I need to wash?” When you didn’t have anything more than what was already in your basket, he still washed your clothes. He also folded one of his own shirts into your pile just to see if you’d wear it. 
“I made some lunch, come eat with me.”  You already ate while he was in the office playing his games, which he should have guessed. 
“Hey, can you help me wash the dishes?” You had nodded, but never left your room and he ultimately ended up washing and drying them all himself. Waiting, waiting, and fucking waiting.
All three times he tried today, you brushed him off with your eyes glued to your phone. 
Something has got to give because it’s starting to get embarrassing how much he thinks about you. With the way he avoided sex last night with his own, very beautiful girlfriend, just to hide in the bathroom at four in the morning getting off with something he absolutely should not have in his possession. 
He doesn’t know how fucking long it’s gonna take to get you to break for him but it’s going to happen one way or the other. You don’t have a choice in the matter at this point .
It looks like you won’t even consider him in that pretty little head of yours simply because he’s considered off limits. He’s gonna have to prove you wrong.
Still, he remembers the way you looked at him during your welcome party. So cute and sweet when you’re drunk, so willing to hang out with him. The interest was there. He knows it was.
And now, as he ticks away at the WASD keys on his keyboard, running his little pixel version of himself back and forth between headshots that he misses every time, he wants to rip his fucking hair out. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Jay shouts through the headset. “He was right there!”
Heeseung knows his friends have every reason to rag on him right now. It’s the fifth lost ranked game of the day and he’s rotting inside at the thought of dropping back down to gold. 
“Platinum my ass.” Sunghoon pipes in, slamming his mouse on his desk out of sheer annoyance at what happened during the last game. “You didn’t down a single person in the past three games.”
Heeseung sighs, ripping his headset off and closing out the game. He can feel it in his body. The frustration bubbling up to the point that he really only thinks about you and this shit needs to stop now before his precious rank drops so far down that even their bronze boy Jake could boast above him. 
He ignores the annoyed shouts from his friends as he disconnects from discord, stands up, and practically storms out of the room and up to your door. 
“I’m coming in!” Heeseung gripes.
This is your first time witnessing him in a bad mood, as he does exactly as he says and swings your door open for the fourth time today. 
“You and me.” He says, pointing a finger at you “Right now.”
“Right now, what?” You ask in a nonchalant tone.
Which only pisses him off more because, fuck if he knows. 
“Get off your phone. We’re hanging out.”
You furrow your brow at him, pointer finger locking the screen of your phone and hiding the string of texts you’d been sharing with one of his very own best friends. Your eyes scan him only for a moment, noting how rushed he appears to be while barging into your room like this.
Large hoodie covering the majority of his body, sweat on his brow probably from all of that screaming you heard in the office earlier, and that same very embarrassing dent on the top of his head from his headset. 
As you look at him in all of his gamer boy glory you nod, only because out of all of his friends, you think you’d rather hang out with him because at least he’s not in your texts trying to land a date, or a hookup, or dropping dick pics by “accident”. 
He’s just Heeseung, your sister’s loving and very hard to read boyfriend. Who you don’t happen to fully remember is capable of pinning you against the kitchen counter while trying to show you how much worse he is compared to his friends. 
“Okay, what do you wanna do?”
He pauses, standing in your room and looking at you lounging on your bed. If he really told you what he’d like to do, it would probably scare you. He needs to think fast, not desperate. 
“Uh,” He hums, glancing away from you and lifting his hand up to finally ruffle that embarrassing dent in his hair away. “Have you ever played video games?”
“Yeah. Not the ones you play though.” You roll your eyes at his attempt at sudden small talk.
God, he shouldn’t have asked. He doesn’t think you could make yourself any more alluring to him after saying that. While his girlfriend has never once even considered picking up a controller, you have? Oh, shit. Man, that’s so hot. 
“Oh yeah?” He perks up in genuine interest, taking a step forward and landing himself on your bed without invitation. “Like what?”
“Party games mostly, I guess. Mario Party, Super Smash Bros, Wii sports, Among us.” 
He nods as you list the most mundane games in the industry. 
“Did you pick up pretty quickly? Like, did you ever win?” He asks, unaware that this conversation feels like literal foreplay to him, pleased by the fact that there’s suddenly more to like about you than just those tits and face….and personality….and intense need to break rules…and–
“Yeah, I can be kind of competitive.”
“Mm.” Heeseung nods in approval, turned on by the very image of you staring into a screen with dead eyes, fingers smashing on buttons and intensely focused. 
“Do you wanna watch me play something?”
“How is that hanging out?” You ask, scoffing at the idea. “Why would I want to watch you have fun?”
Heeseung looks at you. Yeah, that’s fair. He would probably end up ignoring you the whole time anyway, but still. Is it so bad that he asked simply to fulfill the fantasy of having a girl fawn over him and his successes? 
“Okay, then what would you want to do?” He shoots back, knowing it’s fair but hating it nonetheless. Wondering if there’s a chance that someday you’ll pile up on his lap and watch him carry the whole team to victory. Boasting for him more than he does for himself. 
“Horror movie. I’m sure she’s told you but our parents were very strict about what media we consumed. I have a whole list of horror movies I’m trying to work through, but sometimes it’s kind of difficult to watch by myself.”
Fuck yeah. Maybe it’ll end in that cringe and cliche scenario he’s used time and time again when flirting with girls. Images of you jumping from a jumpscare and grabbing him on instinct. Fantasies of you cuddling up real close. So close that he can smell how much you want him. He could get hard right now just thinking of doing this very thing with you. Plus, he fucking loves horror movies.
“Get your pretty ass in the living room then. ” He nods, smiling at you in a way that hides every thought behind his empty, horny eyes. 
And he just gets up and walks out like calling you pretty just now wasn’t at all out of place, he fucking winks at you. It really does throw you off that he just did that so nonchalantly, like he talks to everyone that way when you know for a fact that outside of this house, your sister has to fight him just to get him to wave hello to someone. 
You wonder why it feels like maybe you shouldn’t be spending time alone with him. Arguably, you don’t want to admit that it makes you feel good either. Already with three separate, very attractive people, in your texts insisting that you pick them, that you choose them. 
All of it is very desperate. Almost as desperate as you are to give in to every single one of them, but you can’t just let them know how sheltered you were and how free you feel the need to be now. 
Of course Heeseung, your sister’s boyfriend, calling you pretty would make you feel confident. Like maybe you could be with someone just as attractive as him, or perhaps no longer live in the shadow of everything you wish you could be. 
Her. Everything was always about her. 
“Oh, your sister got top of her class! She’s gonna be moving out soon!” She really just left you there to suffer alone. 
“Ah! Your sister just bought a house! I heard she and her boyfriend might marry soon!” 
You scoffed that day when you entered college, no one congratulated you for the countless free rides or multiple acceptance letters. No, it was all about her despite the fact that she lived an hour and a half away and you were right there.
She was only better than and outshined you because she was older and got there first. It was never competitive with you until everyone in your life expected you to outshine, outdo, and outwit her. 
Still, you jumped at the opportunity to live here solely to get away from your parents. Solely to try and live outside of everything you could be, only to become whatever the fuck you want to be. And yeah, you love her immensely because she truly is the only person who never expected you to be her. There’s so much resentment but an equal amount of love within you for your sister. 
And while Heeseung has no idea of this resentment you have rotting in your chest, you also have no idea that Heeseung believes the one thing you hold over your sister is the fact that you’re just her, except, well…younger, hotter, wilder, prettier, more inexperienced. Cuter voice. Snarkier attitude. Open, and perhaps, willing. 
If you knew that, perhaps Heeseung calling you pretty as if it’s his natural born right would become something different in your head. Perhaps you’d want to live in your sister’s shadow just once more. Why not try and take what your sister has? Wouldn’t that be fun?
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
What a fucking bummer, Heeseung thinks, as he sits on one end of the couch with you on the other. He’s watched you more than the movie at this point, but the clock is tick-tick-ticking, and you’re just sitting there pushing through the horrors with a smile. Something's got to give. 
Your sister comes home in three hours, leaving space for just one more movie and he is truly determined to score this win if it’s the last thing he does. The worst part? Morals don’t mean shit if you want him to fuck you.
If there’s one thing Heeseung hates more than losing, it’s one-sided attraction. He knows he’s not the problem, you are for not looking at him long enough. You are for not even considering that he could fuck you better than anyone in all of those porn accounts you follow on twitter. Not that he stalked it or anything (he did.)
And that’s why, as his stare becomes darker, he stands up and scratches the back of his head with a sigh. 
“I’ll be right back.” He says, watching you wave him off as if you were totally paying attention to him.
That’s going to change right the fuck now. 
He heads to his shared room with your sister, stepping into the walk in closet and examining himself in the wall length mirror before sighing. 
Goddamn, he really stopped caring about how he looked once he finally got between your sister’s legs and locked her down. It’s no wonder you gave his friends more attention that night than you’ve ever given to him. He inspects his hair, messy and frizzy from his hoodie being pulled over and off of his head throughout the day. The cowlicks in the back leaving nothing to your imagination in regards to when the last time he washed the fucked-up locks was. 
He sighs at himself, licking his palm and trying to tame the cowlick. God, a shower right now would seem ridiculous because he’s supposed to be on the couch with you, standing up the gore and death on screen so your hand will accidentally touch his dick or something. 
No good. He needs to backpedal a little bit with his confidence, probably. He steps out of his room, taking his hoodie off at the same time. He rolls the sleeves of his t-shirt now, wanting to at least reveal his shoulders and arms to you. Wanting to parade himself around the house until you drip for him. 
“Hey.” He walks back into the living room, still rolling the last bit of his left sleeve up and over his shoulder. “Can you pause the movie for like ten minutes and throw a pizza in the oven or something?”
You look up at him and the way he seems like he’s thinking about something far off from any situation that’s currently happening. 
“Yeah, sure.” You nod, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie. “We could just keep watching while the pizza cooks though.”
He chuckles, knowing you’d say that and not at all having an excuse. 
“I need to take a shower.” He dead-pans, as if it’s not sudden or weird that he’s decided to rudely interrupt the last movie of the night with a shower that could definitely wait. 
“Just shower after we finish the movie.” You roll your eyes, still standing to your feet and heading towards the kitchen. “It’s not like your stink will get any worse in the matter of a few hours.”
Oh, so now he smells bad?! Is that why you aren’t into him?
“Or you could stop complaining and make the fucking pizza.” He snaps for the first time with a tone that indicates you should probably listen and do as he says. 
“God, what’s your problem?” 
“My problem? What’s yours?” He shoots back, far too annoyed that you play hard to get like this. There’s no way you seriously aren’t getting it. “You’re the one sitting around like you’d rather be doing anything else.”
You press the preheat button on the oven, and look at him shocked. Are his–feelings hurt? Are you really acting like a bitch, or uninterested in getting to know the man your sister will probably spend her life with? 
Were you really acting like you weren’t having a good time? God, you must be such a drag. 
“What? I was having fun, Heeseung, I like watching movies with you.” You try to explain, but he cuts you off.
“Fucking act like it then.” He gripes before turning on his heel and leaving you alone in the kitchen. 
It’s not like you knew he expected you to be interested in friendship with him or anything. You were just…hanging out. You really didn’t know it was supposed to go differently in his head, and the fact that it appears that he does have a specific expectation?  You wonder how to fulfill it. 
After all, you’re trying to avoid showing all the interest you actually have for him when you’re hanging out. It’s what you’re supposed to do, right? And well, by the time he’s out of the shower and presenting himself to you, you think you might have a better idea as to what he’s thinking. Is he trying to impress you right now? 
You can smell his cologne mixed with a minty scented shampoo. His hair looks blow dried. His skin is glistening, and he’s fucking shirtless. 
He watches when he sits down, this time closer to you on the couch presumably so you could share the pizza sitting on the coffee table just in front of you then he checks the clock. Only about thirty minutes wasted out of the remaining time he has with you alone, and then he checks you. Staring. Damn right. 
To you, he looks different.
Not just handsome, or kind of endearing in a loser way. But he actually looks sexy sitting there, with those loose gray sweatpants leaving nothing to the imagination in terms of size, and his exposed torso makes it harder to keep your eyes to yourself.
 His broad shoulders seem to accentuate his neck much more than you imagined considering you never have seen him lounge around like this, and his hair is no longer dented. It’s washed, fresh, and looks fucking good on him. 
Then, his smirk. It’s permanent on that knowing face of his.  
“What are you looking at?” He side eyes you, totally ignoring the pizza because he wasn’t actually hungry. 
He feels a victory welling up in his chest at the way you look at him though, seeing you already get so flustered? So easy. 
“Um,” You pause, tearing your eyes away in embarrassment. “Nothing.” 
He chuckles once in a short breath before stretching himself back against the couch cushions, spreading his legs wide and taking dominance over the space in the room. 
“Didn’t seem like nothing.” He flirts easily, testing the waters of how willing you are to admit that he’s getting his way. “You were checking me out.” 
You face forward now, shifting closer to the arm of the couch and pretending like you can't feel the warmth of the hot water he must have used radiating off of him. 
“Of course not!” You laugh nervously, lunging forward for the remote again. “Why would I check you out?”
Heeseung rolls his eyes at your shitty attempt to lie. 
“Because I took my shirt off for you.” He says, turning his head to look at you with a malicious smirk. “Was that not obvious?” 
You turn to look at him in surprise. Why the fuck would he even say that to you?!
“Do you like me better this way? Half naked?”
“What are you talking about?” You avoid him like your life depends on it, not wanting to admit that you definitely find him more attractive right now than you ever have, and the fact that he’s talking to you like this only further pushes you to want what you can’t have.
“You think I’m hot, don’t you?” He presses, bouncing his leg and keeping his eyes on the way your chest heaves at his words. 
“You want me, don’t you?” He continues pressing, repeating the question in a way that makes you feel forced to agree with him. 
“You’re gonna think about me the next time you–”
“Heeseung!” You shout, turning your entire body towards him with heat searing on your cheekbones. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re dating my sister.” You try to bring both him and yourself back to reality with that statement, more upset internally at the fact that you’re right about it. 
He’s dating your sister and yet, he’s…doing this. To you. And you fucking like it?
“Yeah, no shit.” He laughs you off, looking down at his lap and feeling a twitch at the way you don’t leave the room. Proving in some way that you definitely like it. “And I’m still right, aren’t I? You’re just playing hard to get.”
You stare at him, dumbfounded and utterly shocked by his blatant attempts to come onto you. Unfortunately, you’ve never been in this situation before and your eyes tell on you the same way your body language does. Of course he’s right, and you know you’re doing a terrible job of hiding it.
“Ah, Yeah.” He smiles, watching how you try to keep your eyes on his face but failing. “I’m right.” He continues, lifting his ass just slightly to accentuate the shape of his cock under these sweats for you to get a good eye full. 
You swallow, looking away from him and squeezing your legs together. It feels like such a sudden change of atmosphere. What was once a deniable crush on him becomes a confusing whirlwind wet panties and zero morality.
Does he get off on trying to rile you up? There’s no fucking way he’d actually go through with any of this. He’s just doing it because he thinks it’s cute that you want him. Right? 
You know for a fact that if Jay talked to you this way, you would have let him do whatever he wanted to you. But this is Heeseung. Not Jay, not Jake, not Sunghoon, with their shitty attempts at trying to pull off the exact thing. Oh god, this is bad. This is so bad. 
“I’m going to my room.” You swallow around the thick words, not at all wanting to leave the room solely because your body is giving in instantly to the fact that Heeseung is dirty talking to you for no goddamn reason. 
Perhaps it’s the fact that the one thing your sister has that you shouldn’t ever be able to obtain is doing this. Never did you think a mere idea that he’s attractive would turn into a split second decision of wanting him to fuck you. 
“No, you’re not.” He chuckles, spreading his legs a bit wider now and looking down at his lap, the same exact spot your eyes are looking at. “You’re going to try and keep your eyes on the screen, and we’re going to finish this movie.” 
Safe to say, that was a harder demand to follow than you anticipated and he seemed to fucking love raising his brow at you each time he caught your eye on him. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
By the time your sister returned home and essentially tamed her boyfriend from acting out any longer, you felt…insane. She tamed him without even knowing that he was acting out, not double-taking at all when she walked in to him spread out and shirtless on the couch with you struggling to watch the movie. You felt his confidence radiating, making the living room feel suffocating and unstable in terms of if you belong there or not. 
You find yourself in your room now, cuddling up in your bed with thoughts ruminating on how you have not one, not two, not three, but four men throwing themselves at you. You don’t recall ever actually giving them the idea that this is okay. Or maybe you did? You’re not sure.
You scroll through your text messages, old friends from back home falling into the background each time you open a message from Jake, or the other two that consistently check in with you like you’re some sort of prize to be won. 
Maybe you want to be a prize for some handsome guy to flaunt though, and you embody all of that confidence you got from, somehow, having the one man you’re not supposed to ever obtain parading around for you.
You embody it to text back. To be bold. To give in to the arousal that just slammed you in the gut, reeling from the very idea that there are men in this world who want to fuck you and you’re about fed up with pretending it’s a lie.
You: are you done with your game? 
You send the same message separately to all three of Heeseung’s friends, and somehow you’re still unaware that they all three share the information with each other in discord. 
“Are you done with your game?” Jake mimics in a feminine tone. “She’s playing with all of us.” 
Jay chuckles through the mic, damning them to be second and third place as he quickly texts back.
Jay: no, but I can be. Why? 
“To be fair, we’re kind of playing with her too.” Sunghoon cuts in, responding in his own way to your text and telling you that he’s bored, that he’s waiting on you to give him a date and time to pick you up, that he’s annoyed with his friends. 
“Well, yeah!” Jake bellows through the muffled mic. “I mean, look at her.”
“Oh, I’ve looked.” Sunghoon smiles at himself before snapping his eyes to the discord and noting how Jay has muted himself. 
“That mother fucker.”
Jake follows suit, noting exactly what Sunghoon is calling out before lending a groan of his own. 
“He’s trying so hard.” He rolls his eyes, knowing for a fact that Jay is probably already mid text-conversation with you.
And he would be right, as you lay against your pillows and let Jay’s conversation overpower the two other unopened texts from his friends. 
You: im a little overwhelmed right now, not sure how to explain it.
Jay: overwhelmed how?
You: well…
You take a second to yourself to breathe, feeling your entire body radiate with a feeling that can only resemble that of want, or perhaps need. You’ve sexted multiple times in your life, but never in a situation where you’re sexting because you’re overwhelmed more than just aroused. 
It’s the fact that you’re bringing it up this time after playing uninterested since any of them started texting you. You’ve dodged Jake’s dick pics, you’ve pushed off the date you agreed to go on with Sunghoon, and you’ve even gone as far as telling Jay you’re not interested at all.
Now though? You can imagine what he’d think of you to see you bring it up. Do you care though? Not that much. After all, you’re single, you’re consumed by the ability to do whatever you want, and Jay’s hot. 
You: im frustrated.
You: REALLY frustrated.…sexually
Jay: oh yeah? for me?
You stare at the screen, sending him an emoji that confirms your words for a third time before swiping away and looking at your inbox of available men. You know who else is hot? Sunghoon. 
You: hey if we went on a date, where would you take me?
Sunghoon: probably a movie or something idk, why? what would you wanna do?
You: id wanna go to your house
Sunghoon: and why is that, cutie?
And as you pick up conversations with both men, reeling from the attention, you think…hmm, you wanna know who else is hot? Jake. 
You: Jakeeeee
Jake: whaaaat :) 
You: remember that dick pic you sent to me then begged me to delete because it was an accident?
Jake: …
You: i didn’t delete it. 
Jake: you like it?
You: maybe. 
And you guess this is who you are now, plotting and setting up some form of sexting situation with three different men, who are all very close friends, who all very much seem to reciprocate your advances.
It’s actually pretty cool, as you lay here reading words from a different man every two minutes. Jay telling you exactly how he could help you with that frustration, Sunghoon asking you to explain what you’d wanna do in his house with him, and then Jake blatantly sending his cock to you again like he has nothing better to do. 
It’s all fun and games until things start to get real heated and you get kind of into it. Focusing on Jay’s little message of, “im helping you out here, you should help me too. send pics.” 
You ask yourself why you consider doing it before swiping away and landing on a video of Jake, face bright and smiling before lowering the camera. Blatantly fucking himself just because you said he had a nice dick. 
Your body is feeling permanent goosebumps because of those two, overwhelming you more than you could have imagined to see just how far they’d be willing to go to try and convince you to do the same for them.
Sunghoon brings a different form of arousal in his inbox though. Far more tame than the others, asking you to push, telling you to say all of the dirty things rather than him. Pushing for a date. 
Sunghoon: keep talking to me like this, ill come get you right now. 
You: not yet, just this for now.
Sunghoon: no pressure, are you touching yourself at least?
You: I am 
Sunghoon: yeah? thinking about me too right? 
You: yea
You’re lying. Kind of. Half-lying, at least, because you are thinking about him but you’re also thinking about Jake, and Jay, and sending nudes, and– Heeseung.
You’re thinking about Heeseung, and only because you can hear the shuffling in the room a wall over. Then? Thumping, right behind you as you lay in your bed. At this moment, you should be able to focus on the men blatantly trying to fuck you, but instead you’re reminding yourself of how Heeseung looked earlier.
And you’re listening. Thumping, thumping, thumping, until you hear–
“Don’t cover your mouth, she’s probably asleep anyway.” You hear Heeseung bellow out in a far-away voice. 
Great. They’re fucking. Just fucking great. Well, now what? You think, as you thumb back and forth between messages with frustration.
Your mind reels as you listen though. Imagining Heeseung more than anything being the force behind those thumps on your wall. His voice almost croaked when he regarded you directly to your sister while fucking her. Why can’t you stop thinking about him? All it took was a single day of marathoning movies?! A single shower?! 
God, you’ve got to seem desperate to be reacting this way. He probably thinks that shit is funny.  And as you now shove your headphones in your ears so as to not hear anymore of it, you stand on your feet and walk to your bathroom. You’re too interested in being fucked now, might as well give the boys something to look at, right?
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“She really is trying to get away with it.” Sunghoon says, dumbfounded by the receipts provided by all three boys in their own private group chat.
Without Heeseung. 
“Yeah, but she sent me an ass pic.” Jay boasts, smiling to himself and silently saving the other provided images that you sent to his friends. 
“Whatever, I’m picking her up today for what she wants to call a “date”. She literally said she wanted me to pull her hair.” 
Jake gasps, offended.
“What the fuck? She said she wanted to pull my hair!” He groans. “Why am I the one she thinks would like that?! I have a big dick! I could–”
“Anyway,” Jay cuts him off. “She really is just like her sister. Heeseung doesn’t even know how I’ve seen his precious girlfriend’s pussy, only a matter of time before I’m seeing her little sister’s too.” 
Sunghoon rolls his eyes, ignoring Jake’s huffing and puffing as he does his best not to laugh at Jay’s almost victory over your sister. 
“Well, I’m getting the girl this time.” He says, opening his texts and reading through the presumed masturbation session he shared with you last night. “Said she couldn’t wait to see me.” 
“I’m sure she could though.” Jay says, competitive, wanting to win. “You’ll see.”
Sunghoon can sense the competition in the air, knowing that Jay is probably coming up with some lame ass plan to get in your pants before he can even get the chance to pick you up tonight. 
And then there’s Jake.
“You know, maybe she’s right.” He rambles on, thinking hard about how your dynamic with the other two seems to differ greatly from the way you speak to him. “I do have better hair than both of you combined.”
And they stay like that, roasting each other while simultaneously lusting over the same girl until Heeseung gets online and pings them in the regular group chat for a round of gameplay. 
“What’s up, virgins?” Heeseung greets, booting up his game and noting the silence in the voice chat. 
“I said, what’s u–” 
“We heard you.” Sunghoon chimes in, preparing himself for a direct mission of humbling the fuck out of him. “Call me a virgin all you want, doesn’t change the fact that I’m getting my dick wet tonight.” 
“Please.” Heeseung laughs, rolling his eyes as he waits for them to get into the game lobby. “Who would stick your dick in them anyway?” 
“Your girlfriend’s little sister.” Sunghoon announces. 
Excuse me?
“In your dreams.” Heeseung tries to laugh, but is interrupted yet again by his two other friends laughing first. “Wait, you’re serious?” 
Sunghoon hums a confirmation, which leads Heeseung to wonder what the fuck happened in the span of one single night. He could have sworn he had you in the palm of his hand on that couch. He knew you heard how good he fucks your sister. 
There’s no way. 
“Nah, she’s already got a crush on someone else.” He continues to brush Sunghoon off. “And it’s not you.”
“Yeah, because it’s me.” Jay laughs, bombarding Heeseung with another low blow. “Why else would she take her shorts off for me?”
Anger? Yes. Jealousy? Also yes.
“Bullshit.” Heeseung calls out, staring at his discord and the way his friend’s names light up every time they laugh.
 “What are they trying to do, Jake? Spill.”
Jake silences his laughing. 
“Oh, you think he didn’t get nudes too?” Jay laughs harder. “She sent them to all three of us last night. Different pictures too, she wasn’t skimping on the goods, I can tell you that much.”
Heeseung takes a moment to breathe through his nose. “And just why did she send you nudes?”
“I didn’t even ask for them, Hee, honest!” Jake tries to get on his good side. “I guess showing her my dick did something for her though.” That did not get him on Heeseung’s good side. 
“Why the fuck  is she sending you guys nudes?” He asks again, this time slightly raising his voice. 
You should have been sending him nudes to prove your insatiable lust that you must have. Right? Like, why not him? If anyone? 
“Oh, right.” Sunghoon finally reveals the truth. “First person to fuck her wins.” 
“Is that so?” Heeseung leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with narrowed eyes at their stupid usernames. 
Competition is what he’s best at. 
“Yeah.” Sunghoon confirms. “And by the end of the night, I’ll be the winner.” 
“That’s what he thinks, anyway.” Jay snickers. “She’s already texted me a cute little good morning like she didn’t sext three guys last night.” 
“Mhm.” Jake hums into the mic. “Me too.”
Sunghoon tilts his head in confusion at that, now checking his phone and noting that he hasn’t received his own good morning from you yet. Weird. 
“You guys are aware that you can’t do that, right?” Heeseung chimes in, knowing that he’s playing their game now. And he’s good at playing games. “You seriously can’t be trying to rail my girlfriend’s sister.”
“Yeah. We are, actually.” Jay overtakes the conversation. “Besides, she wants it.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You wake up feeling insanely embarrassed by how you acted like night. 
Tonight’s date with Sunghoon probably won’t happen. There’s no way you can live up to the confidence you showed him. 
You: hey can we raincheck?
Sunghoon: no wtf? 
He reacts negatively, because his victory is now being ripped from his hands by the prize herself. It’s not even just like, the fact that he wants to fuck you just to say he did it before anyone else could. It’s the fact that you’re kind of cool. Incredibly hot, and super willing to slut yourself out. 
Just his type. He loves being able to tame girls and keep them locked between his legs, with his cock in their throat. 
You: sorry i just don’t feel good today, can try this weekend? 
Sunghoon sighs, sending you a short approval before focusing back on the intense game playing out on his screen. 
“She canceled on me.” Sunghoon complains, shooting a player dead between the eyes before crouching and running off to find his next kill of frustration. “Jay, what did you fucking do?”
Jay snorts, smirking on his end of the screen, camping like an asshole in a bathroom and waiting for some unsuspecting dad of six to run by and get his cheeks clapped by some idiot with the username of DADDYJAY02. 
“Told her I’d fuck her real good if she cancels.” He jokes, mostly focused on the current game at hand.
Heeseung is pleased to learn that you’re skipping the date though, leading him to believe that maybe he was right in thinking he��s got you in the palm of his hand. 
Still doesn’t change the fact that you’ve got nudes in your phone. Nudes that you sent to three fucking losers that couldn’t even come close to doing what he could do for you. 
“He’s talking shit. She hasn’t left her room all morning.” Heeseung says. “I already told you guys that she has a crush on someone, and it’s not any of you. So, you can go ahead and kiss your bullshit sex-game goodbye.”
Jake pipes in now, listening to the sheer amount of confidence coming from Heeseung and Jay.
“I dunno.” He breathes, picking people off one by one in his own, less-than-great playstyle. “She’s still texting me and being all cute. Maybe she just thinks you guys are weird.” 
“What did she say?” Heeseung asks, now more focused on what Jake might say rather than the fact that Jay just got downed and needs help. 
“Something about how she feels embarrassed about everything but likes talking to me, heart emoji and all.” He says in a nonchalant tone, now being downed himself in game. “Me and Jay are down.”
“Stay down then.” Heeseung scoffs, ignoring both dying friends as he focuses on the win. 
“Dude, fucking pick me up.” Jay now argues, throwing his hands up at the gameplay, watching Heeseung blatantly run straight past him. “Heeseung! Pick me the fuck up!” 
He snickers in response. 
“Stop trying to fuck her and I’ll pick you up.” 
“I’d rather die.” Jay argues back, accepting his in-game death and instead pulling his phone out to text you. “In fact, I’ll text her right now.”
Sunghoon, listening to the chaos and still neck-to-neck in terms of kills with Heeseung, tries to ignore the fact that he’s losing the only game he cares about winning right now. 
“All three of you are starting to get annoying.” Sunghoon mumbles into the microphone, killing the last remaining player and stretching his arms out in a sigh.
“You’re just mad because she’s ghosting you for me.” Jake sings out happily.
Heeseung listens, seething in his head about how they’re really just gonna keep doing this shit and decides, fine. 
He’s already playing the game they’re playing. He’s been playing it for much longer, actually, with those panties he took from your dresser when he built it. With the way he placed your bed against the same wall his bed is against, just so you could listen and suffer for his cock to stuff you full instead. 
If it’s a fucking competition they want, they’re gonna get it. 
And with that? He logs off without so much as a goodbye before heading to his bathroom. For the first time in years caring more and more about how he dresses and carries himself just to see you want him. 
He styles his hair, brushes his teeth, perfects his hair with the hood up on his hoodie, and then heads straight to your room. 
“Hey, Sunghoon said he’s supposed to be going on a date with you tonight.” He says as soon as he gets to your door.
You look panicked.
“Oh, he told you?” You say, avoiding eye contact with him because goddamn does he look good today but also, what the fuck Sunghoon?! 
“Yeah.” He answers in a less than entertained tone. 
“Did he–” You pause, now looking at him and his stupid attractive stance against your door. “–say anything else?” 
“Oh, he told me all about it.” He admits to you now, loving the way you curl into your own embarrassment. “I did warn you, you know.”
You blink at him, wanting to hide from the entire situation. Especially because the only reason you went for his friends was because he got you all choked up. 
“Still, I thought you’d tame yourself a little bit. I mean– Jay too? Really?” Heeseung starts to pick you apart with the information he’s learned today. “And Jake?”
You groan out, covering your face with both hands. 
“God, I don’t know what I was thinking.” You try to explain. “I just–”
“You were wet.” He answers for you, smiling at the way you try to run from the truth. “So wet for me that you ran to my friends?” 
Only now do you move your hands from your face and look at him. Shocked that he got straight to the point, and is entirely correct.
“You got their hopes up, you know.” He continues, taking control of the situation as he crosses his arms and leans his head back and against your doorframe. “Right after getting my hopes up.” 
“What are you–” 
“You know what I’m talking about, and you know exactly what I’m doing.” He cuts you off, speaking for you, thinking for you, not letting you get a word in to doubt a single thing he’s saying. “You know what you’re doing too. So, look at me next time I come in here and call you out on your bullshit.”
Your eyes stay on him, full of embarrassment and a sense of guilt. You feel scolded, which is so fucking wrong and weird for it to come from him of all people. 
“Time to stop pretending now, babe. If you want this–” He says, looking down between his legs and grabbing his bulge. “You’ll stay away from my friends.” 
And then he just…leaves with a smile? Doesn’t even let you respond? 
“I’m going to the store, we don’t have shit to eat in this house.” You hear him complain as he walks down the hallway, acting as if he didn’t just word-fuck you with the truth that you weren’t quite ready to accept. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You’re losing it. Truly, you’re losing every ability in your body to ignore the fact that you not only think about Heeseung in ways you shouldn’t, you want him in ways that should be a fucking crime.
Seeing him grab himself like that in your doorway? Fuck, if he hadn’t of walked away right after, you very well may have found yourself with your ankles up by your ears, begging him to use it on you. 
No self restraint at this point, and you don’t even care. 
Your phone is long forgotten as you pace your room, wondering if you should leave the house too, just to find a sex shop that has a Heeseung sized and shaped cock for you to fuck yourself on in order to get this intense feeling of need out of you. 
That’s really all it took for him to make you go fucking feral for it? A little bit of flirting? A little bit threatening? A grab of his cock, practically dangling it in front of you like the two of you are allowed to be having those kinds of moments together? 
Fuck him for knowing how to get you horny more than you know how to do it yourself. Since when did you like men to act that way towards you? Since fucking when did you get off on a boyfriend that your sister intends to fucking marry?!
It’s so fucked up, and it’s equally fucking hot to you because it’s fucked up. 
Out of everything your sister has that you don’t, Heeseung is the one you want most. And he’s just fucking…he’s just–
God damn it. You sigh, pacing back and forth, checking the time on your phone and ignoring all of your unread texts. Heeseung has only been gone for a total of ten minutes and it feels like you’ve been pacing for hours.
Throbbing between your legs at the small glimpses of his size under whatever pants he wears. With his hair, and his skin, and his stupid, shit-eating smirk that he throws at you. Telling you he knows. Showing you that he likes it. 
You stop your pacing for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut tight to try and flutter the images of him out of your head. Trying to get the reality to come back to you. 
What’s fucked up is that it is reality that he’s doing this to you. You can’t avoid it like it’s a guilty little wet dream you’d be able to hide. 
It’s real.
And, well, fuck it. You love your sister just as much as you always have, even as you want to fuck her boyfriend. Even as her boyfriend seemingly wants to fuck you.
Even as you leave your room, entering their room for the first time. 
Even as you inspect their bed, the placement suspiciously right on the other side of your own bed against the wall. 
Even as you smell the familiar scent of Heeseung on one of the pillows and instantly throw yourself on the bed against it, shoving it between your legs in a desperate and obvious show of how much you really, really, fucking want it. 
And if this is what it feels like to lose your fucking mind? So be it. 
His pillow is soft, offering little pressure to your clit as you writhe against it, but you moan louder than you ever have while pleasuring yourself. For once, the house is empty and for once, you have a point of arousal that doesn’t involve porn.
Your mind falls into images of him, and the way he moves his body during every day instances. Then, to the way he sounded when he fucked your sister in this very same bed. He must fuck hard, because that consistent thumping on your wall seemed to prove it already. 
Fuck, you hope he fucks hard. 
You saw the outline of it a few times by now too, so big even while flaccid and uninterested in you. He must know how to contain himself too. Real calm, real collected when it comes to how he’d probably use it. 
The images swim up and down behind your eyes as you writhe your clit against the corner of his pillow for what feels like ages, knowing your panties are being pushed into the folds of your wet core, feeling your shorts skew as you move, back and forth, stretching with each grind forward. 
You’re aware that parts of your pussy are out in the open between grinds, feeling the soft material of his pillow rub you only slightly raw with the force of your movements, and you simply don’t care. You’re home alone, remember? 
Wait. How long have you been doing this again?
“Oh, fuck yeah.” You hear from behind you, startling you into a defensive position of curling around the pillow. “Bumping it real good, weren’t you? Right up on my pillow?” Heeseung laughs, standing just inside of the room with a step much quieter than he’d normally have when he’s walking around. 
“Fuck, that’s so gross.”  He snickers with hooded eyes and a triumphant smirk as he crosses his arms. 
“You really thought I wouldn’t find out? Like I wouldn’t be able to smell it? I smelled you when I walked in.”
God, the fucking horror that replaces the arousal hits you harder than you ever knew it could as you jump to your feet on buckled knees and try to mutter out an apology.
“I’m sorry.” 
He just said you were gross. He said he could smell you while scrunching his nose. 
“I’m sorry, Heeseung, I’m sorry.” You continue, trying to make your way past him ultimately so you can lock yourself in your bedroom to never come out. 
“Hmm, what makes you think you could just come in here and fuck my things?” He isn’t going to let you go that easy, of course he isn’t.
The thing about him is, he knows he’s got you now. That little sex bet going with his friends? They’re done for.
 Full control of the whole situation is right here in the palm of his hand, and the proof is that embarrassing wet spot you left on his pillow. This was all he needed. You made him chase, and he’ll be damned if he gives you what you want now so easily. 
It’s your turn to ache with the same feeling between your legs. You’re going to be fucking gone by the time he finally gives it to you. 
“I thought y–” You try to explain, not looking him in the eye when he holds you in place by the arm from leaving. 
“Thought I wanted you over her?” He mutters to you in a hot whisper, pulling you back and against him, dipping his head and chasing your line of sight to force you to look at him. “Oh my god, how sad.” 
You try look away, entirely confused, embarrassed, fucking ashamed. 
Never have you let guilt take you over like this because you’ve never allowed yourself to be in a position to feel so goddamn stupid.
He’s going to tell her what you did. You might as well go pack your shit now and get ready to go back home because this was not okay. 
“I’m sorry. I misread…” You’re being forced to look at him, but you still keep your eyes on the bottom of his chin rather than his eyes, feeling his hands squeeze you, not at all noticing how rock fucking hard he is due to the sheer terror you feel at this moment.
“Mm, no you didn’t.” He explains, eyes scanning over your flushed face, tears prickling in your eyes. 
And once again, fucking confusion. The weight of guilt lifts off of you at his words, allowing you to look him straight in the eyes this time. Urging him to tell you that he does want you. That everything you thought previously was true.
That he was trying to come onto you. 
“You were throwing your legs open for just anyone.” He lands the blow harshly, with his breath hitting you square in the forehead. “I just wanted to see if you were really as slutty as Jay said you were.”
A direct blow to any confidence you ever could have had walking around this house. 
You fell for it. Your sister is dating a piece of shit, and somehow you still find him so attractive. You still wish he was lying. 
You still wish he liked you, or wanted you on some level.
“God, such a cry baby too.” He rolls his eyes now, breathing in deep before releasing his hold on you. “Go cry in your room, I’m sure you still have an orgasm to get, don’t you?” 
You refuse the eye contact again as you try to walk away in a way that you wish could make you disappear. He’s making damn sure to shame you straight into the dirt, and it makes you feel so unclean. 
“Don’t you?” He repeats with a louder voice as you walk away, stepping into your room, and closing the door behind you.
Yeah, you’re still probably going to get that orgasm. He knows it. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Heeseung is a nightmare to be around. You’re annoyed that you didn’t notice it before and actually wanted to be around him before that mishap with his pillow. 
You can’t read him. 
When your sister is home, he ignores you for the most part. He spends his time on his PC yelling with friends, he scoffs at you, looks at you like you look and sound ridiculous any time you say something, yet, when he’s with your sister, he’s so, so, loving. 
All over her, really. Hands on her waist, back, thighs, ass. He’s so sexual with her in front of you, to the point that you can’t make eye contact at all with either of them. 
To the point that you miss it every time when he checks to see if you’re watching. 
What’s worse about Heeseung is that you think now that he has no interest in you. Everything he did really was for an ego boost, or like some shitty game he was playing. It got to the point that, yeah, you’re sexting at least one of his friends as often as possible despite never giving them a reason to come over, and certainly not going to see them yourself. 
It’s like a bandaid as you lay in your bed night after night listening to Heeseung on the other side of the wall draw you into a state of lust, pining, and absent passion. So vocal, when he’s fucking her.  You always feel alone when he does it, with your fingers slamming away and offering pleasure that never gets you there. You always come up short, never being able to get off. 
Even with all of that, he still flirts.
Which fucks you up even more. He’ll make you feel so awful about everything that’s happened, everything you actively say or do, and then turn around and smile at you when your sister is at work. 
He’ll offer to make dinner for you. He’ll do your laundry and fold it, always mixing his clothes into the pile by accident. He’ll touch your waist. He’ll brush his hand past yours when he catches you in the hallway while walking by. 
When you try to flirt back, or look at him for too long though? Hope in your eyes and weight lifting from your shoulders at his hidden actions? He shuts you down instantly. 
Like this morning, when you left your room and went to the kitchen to make coffee, he was already there. He came up behind you real close, rubbing what you presume to be his soft dick against your ass as he lifted and grabbed the filters down for you. 
And when you choked up and looked at him? He could see that little glint of hope in your eyes.
“I was just helping. Jesus christ, you’re more needy than your sister.” 
Or that time yesterday, when you were lounging on the couch and he came out after a shower in those same fucking sweat pants, without a shirt again, and sat down next to you. Spreading his legs wide, smirking, and watching you try to avoid his eyes. 
“Can’t even look at me without getting wet, huh?” 
Safe to say, Heeseung is playing the game with his friends a little too hard. Knowing that at any point during the day if he wanted to push you to the floor and take you, he fucking could. 
So that leaves you now, sitting here feeling about as crazy as you did the day you ran into his room and started fucking his pillow. Every day is felt with sexual frustration that you don’t know what to do with, even sexting his friends, even receiving their videos and hot words, even with their promises of multiple orgasms and hour long sessions of head, your frustration isn’t satiated.
You worry it never will be if Heeseung doesn’t move out, or like, fall out a window or something.
And as you leave your room to go back to the kitchen for a snack, of course you note the open door of the office that is far too silent compared to thirty minutes earlier. 
Of course, Heeseung has trained you to be entirely too curious about what he’s doing at all times when the two of you are alone.
Of course, you don’t turn and walk away the moment you see his back turned, shoulder moving, and a brightly colored hentai flashing across his monitor. 
In fact, you stand there solely because you can’t deny yourself of this.
“Was wondering if you’d come in here.” He mutters through a breath, turning his face for a moment before pumping his hand harder. “S’only fair that I let you watch too, right?”
He’s bringing up the pillow incident. Again. Like he hasn’t brought it up a million times since it happened as a form of shaming you. Telling you how it smelled, laughing and asking how many times you planned to do it behind his back. 
You’re still frozen though, coming to terms with the fact that he could call you an ugly whore and you’d probably accept it at face value just to watch the very scene in front of you.
Are you selfish or are you just desperate? 
Maybe a bit of both.
“Come over here.” He says to your silence, now swiveling his chair around and ignoring the animated fuck-fest on screen. 
You take in an inhale, trying not to show it by looking away from him, but ultimately failing when your eyes fall straight to where his hand is in his pants. The tent created by the sheer size of him leaving far too much for you to think about. 
Anyone in this situation would call him a loser. Jerking it to hentai? Looking the way he does? Being unemployed and doing this at like, eleven in the morning? You can tell he hasn’t slept too, and that’s entirely something a simp would do. Something a virgin would do.
But, you want him. You’ve never been so attracted to someone, actually. He sees you swallow at the image too, smirking and stilling his hand. 
“Shit, you’re really just going to watch me?” 
Yeah. You figured that was obvious to him, considering he already thinks you’re gross, embarrassing, and shameless. It’s not like you not watching at this point would change his mind about you. 
So, you just stand there, watching, waiting.
Until he gives you a breathless chuckle and a shake of his head. 
“Come on, get a better look then.” He encourages you through a soft moan, sliding his fingers on the underside of his length, feeling the pre-cum drip out. 
There it is again. Him acting interested. 
It’s really the worst because you give in every single time, clinging to the hope that maybe he really is interested this time, only to be shot down time and time again. 
Right now is no different from the countless other times he’s flirted just to laugh at you trying to flirt back. Even as you walk towards him with shaking hands gripping the bottom of your own shirt for comfort, you know he’s probably just going to pull his hand out of his pants and probably present a very large cucumber or something before laughing at the fact that you really thought. 
Except, he doesn’t do that. 
You can see the wet spot at the top of the tent his cock creates, right where the head rubs up against the fabric and it proves that he’s really touching himself right now.
“Lower.” He instructs under hooded eyes, head leaned back against his chair, body slouched and relaxed. “On the floor.”
Ah, the fucking power he has is electrifying. You really just do everything he says in the hopes that someday, he’ll put it in you. In the hopes that someday, he will show you what it is that your sister loves so much about him. 
The way you do lower yourself to your knees on his floor, sitting right there in front of him with your eyes glued to the hidden act of what he’s doing to himself? God, you’re dirty.
He chews on his lower lip as he works himself up to the image of you simply on your knees, gripping your shirt like it’s the only thing holding you from falling off of the earth. So pretty, so complacent, so willing. 
Fuck, he knows his friends want you and he can imagine that they must furiously get off to this very image themselves, thought up all by themselves. Except they’ve actually seen your body, Heeseung hasn’t seen shit.
“Take it off.” He says through a breath, the words shaking with each pump of his fist as he tries to stimulate the whole length of his cock without pulling it out. 
It’s a tight fit in his pants right now, but he isn’t going to show you a damn thing. 
You blink up at him, your eyes shining and bright at the fact that you’re fine not seeing it. You seem totally satisfied just watching him pleasure himself. 
Oh god, you’re fucking perfect. 
Even more perfect when you do remove your shirt, tits sitting nice and naked for him to stare at harder. Big. Plush. Prettier than the ones that are drawn to perfection by horny men on his screen just to the side of him. Prettier than your sister’s, even. 
“Ah, yeah.” He comments, hand pumping faster, cock leaking more. “Just sit right there and look pretty for me.”
And, you do. Hands now pressed into the carpet beneath you, gripping the texture much like you did your shirt just to press your tits together for him. Just so he wants you right now, even if he won’t ten minutes from now. 
He really does just watch you too. The image of you alone like this seemingly just enough to get him there when you notice his head slam back against the headrest of his chair again.
Bottom lip bitten, eyebrows raised, a held breath, and then he’s releasing that same breath along with his cum. All into his hand and against his pants as he pumps harder through the sensitivity of his orgasm. 
Eyes falling back to you, darker this time, he smirks as he slides his hand from his pants, careful not to lose any of that thick, milky, cum, and tipping his fingers at you. 
“Ahh-” He opens his mouth, speaking to you as if he’s feeding you a snack, and for some reason, you mimic it.
Your mouth opens as you lean forward and he slips his fingers in, relishing in the feeling of your frantic tongue licking up the taste of him.
So desperate, god, you want it so bad and he can see it.
He can feel it. 
And by the time you’ve licked his fingers clean, eyes tearing up because you know he’s about to mock you for how much you loved the taste of it, he pulls his hand back and says nothing.
He doesn’t even smile at you when he stands up, staring down at you like he owns you. 
You’re just sitting on the floor shirtless, avoiding his eye contact and preparing for whatever fucked up thing he wants to say about it, salty sweet remnants of his flavor in your mouth, and near tears in your eyes. 
“You really did that.”  He says before stepping to the side of you and heading for the door. “Swallowed all of it too.”
You did, and of course you’re ashamed despite sitting here wet and aching. You nod as you stare at the floor in shame, hands clasped in your lap.
“Good girl.” He breathes out to you before leaving for the bathroom, not another word muttered to you.
And as Heeseung stands looking at himself in the mirror, chest heaving as he reels from what just took place, he smiles. God, the horror you must feel right now. If you knew how much he liked this and how willing you were to take what you can get, you’d probably be the happiest girl alive. 
You’re so willing to feel ashamed, so willing to be shamed, just to look at him? Just to see him do this? Just to suck all of his cum off of his fingers? 
You’re fucking crazy. 
If you knew how he silently jerked off, breathing in that pillow you had against your pussy, you’d probably orgasm on the spot. If you fucking knew how he stole your panties the very day you moved in, you’d probably give him the ones you’re wearing now just to please him. 
Ah, so perfect. It’s only a matter of time now.
Only a matter of time before he wins and shuts his friends up for fucking good, because honestly, it’s getting old now to hear his friends pretend they have a shot at this with you.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Living with your sister became something you never meant for it to be. You’re not living with her, you’re living with fucking guilt, and confusion, and insatiable lust for the man she’s supposed to be pleasing every night. 
In fact, the amount you see her is far less than you originally thought. She works so much, and when she’s not working overtime just to come home and love on her asshole of a boyfriend, and tell you sweet goodnights like you didn’t eat his cum off his fingers, she’s sleeping away the exhaustion of being the only good person in this house. 
Unfortunately for her though, you don’t care.
You appreciate the freedom she’s given to you on a silver platter, with a nice new bedroom suite and good food in the fridge, but you know she didn’t bring you here with the intention of giving you this much freedom.
She gave you the ability to fuck and be fucked whenever and where ever you want, but the choice wasn’t meant to be Heeseung. With his ever changing moods, annoying gamer rage, and disconcerting need to flirt and shame you. 
You can’t believe you’re sitting here across from her before yet another one of her shifts, drinking the same juice, eating the same breakfast, pretending like you haven’t tasted the same cum she has. 
You can’t believe that while growing up, you always shared her stuff against her will. She hated finding you wearing one of her favorite tops, or her new pairs of shoes. She would get so mad and all you can think now is that, surely she would kill you if she found out what else you’ve used behind her back.
And when you watch Heeseung kiss her goodbye, he seems all too entertained with the situation. Watching you pretend like you don’t want him, watching your sister be blissfully unaware of who his dick twitches for.
  Watching, watching, watching. 
Staring, really, at you through the kiss. Up until she leaves for the day and you’re left staring back at him. Heeseung lends you a small wave with an uncaring face, wiggling the same fingers he fucked your mouth with in your face, almost seeming like he’s attempting to lure you to open those same lips again for him.
Almost as if to remind you that you’re pathetic. 
And goddammit. You fucking are.
That’s why, of course, you’ve found yourself time and time again in these same text messages. Fully guilty of leading these guys on but not nearly as guilty as you feel each time you show how bad you need it to the one man who doesn’t deserve it. 
Jay, if he could, would probably fuck you right on the doorstep by this point with the amount of nudes, phone calls, and blatant shows of sexual interest. You can sense how annoyed he is with cumming all by himself using your photos, but like, that’s very attractive of him to wait.
Sunghoon? So frustrated with you for never following up with him, but entirely willing to fuck you with his dirty words and images of what he’d love to do if you’d just get the fuck out of the house for a day.
And Jake, ah, Jake. The cutest. One you’d take all of this frustration out on, the one who would probably apologize to you for everything bad that’s ever happened to you mid-orgasm solely because he wouldn’t know what else to say or do when he’s feeling so good.
Sexting any of them, or all of them, is really your only relief from the man who looms around this house. But at this point, even that is doing nothing for you.
Even as you read Jay’s texts, knowing he’s actively playing video games at the same time and not jerking off like he claims. 
Jay: take a new one, i want more material 
You: you’re not even touching yourself, you know I can hear heeseung yell at you right?
Jay: what? you think I can’t multitask? 
You: is that why he’s yelling then? 
Jay: one handing it and still got more kills than him, yea
God, he’s too confident while being such a fucking loser, but yeah, you’ll send him a new picture. You’ll go ahead and send it to Jake too. And Sunghoon, of course.
Then you pause with your fingers on the screen, zooming in on your body and checking it. Only half wondering what would happen if you took a pussy picture. Only half thinking of sending it to Heeseung. Not the other three, just him.
Half wondering turns to full wondering, as you listen to him yell something about Jay going down again mid match, proving that he probably was, in fact, fucking his fist mid-game and absolutely not getting more kills.
Heeseung’s voice sounds so full of anger. So loud, cracking in pitch even. It’s hard to imagine someone sounding so stupid being able to act in a way that’s made you feel so lost and ashamed of wanting him. 
Yet, he did. And that’s why you decide right at this moment, you’ll always give in to his flirting even while knowing he’ll mock you and make fun of you for it. You’ve already dealt with it to the point that you’re used to it. At least you still get something out of it, right? 
At least, maybe, he’ll give you something else to feel ashamed of today, right? 
And as you take that photo, lying back on your bed, shifting your panties to the side and spreading your lips open for the camera, you snap a photo of your hole for him. Right there, already wet just imagining him thinking you’re pathetic for doing this. 
At this point, you’re not feeling too ashamed of it right now. After all, he jerked off looking at you like there wasn’t at least three holes being fucked and filled on the screen behind him before. So…
You send the photo to him, ignoring the displayed message from Jay stating, “you only sent this one to me, right?” 
And then you wait. 
And you wait.
And wait.
You can still hear Heeseung yelling his gaming talk, but you watch his text messages like a hawk. Feeling nervous, terrified, embarrassed, shamed, turned on, curious, wet.
Each time he’s silent, you stare at the messages, up until you notice that he’s opened it. 
He saw it.
You wait for footsteps, you wait to hear him tell his friends that he’ll be back. You wait for him to stomp in here and call you gross. 
And you wait more.
And more. 
Up until you can’t wait any longer and you find yourself shifting up and off of your bed, leaving your phone behind as you make your way to the office. He’s facing away from you as usual, the character on screen on a swivel as the scope of the gun searches for a head to shoot, and then– his phone.
Right there beside him, open, the image pulled up. 
“What are you trying to do?” He says, but you can’t tell if it’s for you or his friends. 
You stand there, pussy looking much the same as it was in that photo, except now with your shorts back on you, and panties back in place. 
“Trying to fuck me over right now?” He continues when a kill screen shows up and he’s got a few seconds to lift his hand from the mouse. Not even looking at you, he beckons you with two fingers and pushes his chair back just slightly.
By the time you get up beside him, he puts his fingers over his mouth, glancing up at you, then down at his phone and tapping it. Immediately after tapping, he points to the floor in front of him, scooting back more to make room for you.
The silent conversation is loud as he narrows his eyes at you when you sink to your knees on the floor in front of him. You crawl under the desk, legs quivering at the idea that he’s absolutely ignoring you, but also inviting you. 
As if he’s feeding you what you want. As if he doesn’t need this too. 
And maybe he doesn’t, you think, as you carefully reach forward to his knees, feeling him push his chair in and trap you under the desk. He doesn’t look hard, proving that he’s simply allowing you to quench your thirst for his cum, surely. 
Allowing you to be pathetic. 
Allowing you to see it. 
And finally, you do. He’s even polite enough to lift his ass up a bit just to let you pull his sweats down to get it out. Slowly growing at the feeling of your breath against it. 
You breathe deeply before you press your lips against it instantly, darting your tongue out curiously and closing your eyes to relish in the first taste of his skin. It’s a clean taste, and despite him not being fully hard for this just yet, it only drives you to do better, to do more, until he actually wants you to do this for him, not just for you. 
You could argue that it seemed much bigger when he was jerking it off in front of you, then again, he’s still not fully hard yet. 
It actually hurts your feelings that you’re the one needing to get him horny right now. After all, you are clearly hungry for it, not him.
And you take him into your mouth again, and again, feeling him stiffen by the second. Still, his focus isn’t on you or what you’re doing down here. 
Until it is, anyway. 
By this point, you’re actually struggling to take him into your mouth, and you can argue he’s only at half-girth as you try. The top of your head bumps his desk every few seconds, which forces you to keep him in your mouth. 
Kind of terrifying actually, to have put something in your mouth so readily only to regret the fact that his cock is essentially locked in by the small pace you’re trapped in, and it’s only swelling up more and more by the second. 
Hardening until your throat is constricting around it, forcing you to gag and search for breath.
It’s hard to breathe as you cough and drool around him, frantically trying to pull off of him and hitting your head hard against the desk when you do.
He fucking chuckles at it before you feel his hand slip under the desk with you and grab his now fully hard cock. What does he do with it? He fucking slaps it straight across your face before forcing it right back between your lips. 
You hate to say how wet that made you, and you hate even more to say that you kind of like the feeling of your throat getting bruised. Willing yourself to gag around him again, trying to twitch your tongue against the weight of his far too big length in your mouth. 
You don’t want him to laugh though, you want him to fucking moan. All for his friends to hear. After all, it’s the first time you’re going down on him and it’ll probably be the last time too, right?
Not to mention, you’ve barely had experiencing sucking dick as it is, he should he fucking helping you get through this.
But he’s not. He’s just…playing his fucking game. Hell, the twitches of his length against your gag reflex is probably more for the kill he gets rather than the way your dripping spit all over and down his balls. 
This is embarrassing, and yet– you love it. You fucking adore it, with the way your clit aches just at the thought that he’s letting you put your mouth on him at all.
Maybe it really is for you, and not for him. 
“Ah, fuck.” Heeseung groans, probably more to his game than to you.
His hand shoots under the table, right to the top of your head as his other balances himself on the seat of his chair. There, he holds your head down on him and angles his hips just slightly to fuck up. Gaging you repeatedly, holding back his own moans at the way you’re just going to let him use you like this.
And as quickly as it happened, that short grunt from him not going unnoticed, he’s drawing his hands back above his desk, relaxing his body, and giving back the control. 
Already, you can hear his fingers against the keyboard again.
“Back in the game, Jay, to the right!” He shouts, showing you that he absolutely just fucked your face because he got fucking downed in the game. 
And you continue, trying to give him that same feeling that he forced on you just now, and never quite getting the same force behind your lips or tongue for him. His cock is throbbing though, choking you with each dribble and spurt of precum, up until he’s pulling the same trick.
Fucking up, holding your throat down on him, for just a bit until he’s back in the game and playing.
This happens for what feels like forever. To the point that surely, you’re drenching the carpet under you, and you’re starting to feel insecure in the fact that he hasn’t cum yet. Are you really just…bad at giving head?
Heeseung’s legs shift as you continue, slowing your pace and trying to rub your jaw through it with your free hand that’s not gripping the fabric of his lowered sweats. You do this up until his cock is suddenly sliding further and further out of your throat when he rolls his chair back. 
Ah. 
Oh.
Oh, my god. You think, getting the first glimpse of his face since you started. Blown out pupils staring down under his desk, hair a mess, mic right up against his smirking lips. 
He looks…like he enjoyed it? Maybe? Are you getting ahead of yourself?
“You want more?” He asks, straight into the mic and confusing his friends. “I can see how much you want it, baby, come on. I’ll give it to you.”
You stare up at him, pretending that when you crawl out from under the desk and try to stand, you can’t hear the way he turns up the volume of his friends responding in confusion. 
“What the fuck are you talking about?” You hear the familiar voice of Sunghoon. “If you’re gonna fuck your girlfriend, at least mute yourself, dick.” 
You nervously glance to his game that’s still full screened. You knew he was gaming with his friends since this morning, but for him to talk to you like this as if they can’t hear him? 
“They’ll want to hear you.” He comments now, alerting his friends that he’s obviously not talking to them. “Trust me, they don’t fucking shut up about you.” 
That’s when they realize.
“No fucking way.” Jake blurts. “There’s no way.”
Jay remains silent, staring at his unanswered text message before minimizing his game and dropping his mouth in surprise.
“Come on then, you already let me fuck that pretty mouth, might as well, right?” He says to you again, this time lifting his hips and tapping his desk. “Bend over for me.” 
What you think is just an unmuted mic, unfortunately, is much, much more than that. You see, Heeseung likes to stream to his friends, back and behind his full screened game was the image of him suffering through your need to deep throat him half to death.
He remained calm, at first not exactly wanting his friends to know. Not wanting them to see you like this, and most certainly not wanting them to have any images of you to get off to. But now? Oh, to win their own game in front of them? 
‘Fuck, look at that.” He says, watching you take the spot in front of him and bend over his desk, keyboard buttons pressing in and glitching the screen out momentarily due to your tits lying against it. “Now look up.” He instructs. 
“No. Fucking. Way.” Jake blurts again once he minimized his game and instantly saw you on the camera, looking so out of it, so unaware. “Sunghoon, are you seeing this?”
Jay was still watching with his mouth agape, cock leaking as it always does for you except now?  It’s the fact that Heeseung is really just gonna do something so awful to your sister? He’s really  going to fuck you right here, right now? With proof?!
“Heeseung, don’t.” Sunghoon warns, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen in front of him. 
“Don’t what? Sunghoon?” Heeseung smiles as he reaches his hands around the front of you, pulling you back by groping both of your tits. “Fuck your girl in front of you?”
You just listen, shocked that Sunghoon is actually asking Heeseung to stop. Shocked that they apparently have beef or something, over you? Surely not. 
“No–” Sunghoon chokes back. “Don’t turn off the camera.” 
“Camera?!” You panic, trying to break free of his grip on your chest, but he holds you there, pressing you closer with your back to his chest, his cock throbbing under your thigh. 
“What? Now you have an issue with cameras?” Heeseung seethes sarcastic words into your hair, squeezing your tits harder now. “Relax, baby, I know they’ve already seen you like this.” 
“Right?” Heeseung now directs his attention to the screen, lunging forward to quickly minimize the full-screened game, getting a good look at his friends and you in the camera against him. 
The image is wildly attractive to him for many reasons. For one, he can see himself on the screen with his point of desire sitting right here on his lap. Secondly, his friends are awestruck by what he gets to have right now. Shamelessly watching, biting their words back, taking in deep breaths. And lastly, he can tell that everyone on camera right now either wants to be him or be fucked by him.
What’s not to love about this? 
And Heeseung is quick when he flashes his eyes away from each of his friends, straight to you in the camera, watching you avoid looking at the screen. He moves one hand from your chest, pushes his chair back, and immediately cups between your legs. 
“You show them this too, or was that just for me?”
You shake your head at Heeseung, reeling with embarrassment and arousal as you try to squeeze your legs closed around his hand. You feel choked up, throat sore, legs buckled, clit throbbing for him to dig his palm against it.
“Mm, you see that Jay?” Heeseung moves his eyes to his friend on screen. “Couldn’t even get her to show her pussy for you?” 
Jay appears entirely tuned into the situation, eyebrows sitting furrowed and focused on you. God, if only he focused that much in game, Heeseung thinks he could probably out rank him if he wanted to. 
“Jake?” Heeseung trails to his other friend, making sure each and every one of them hears and sees exactly what he’s doing. 
Your eyes follow the names Heeseung calls out. Shyly, somewhat dazed. Tearing your eyes from Jay was already hard enough as is. After all, seeing his blatant attraction to you right there, in front of everyone? Maybe you should have let him hit, even just once because damn. It’s almost pitiful, that look in his eye as he watches you. 
Jake on the other hand? You can tell he lets his hair fall partly in front of his eyes but he smiles to himself while watching. Something about seeing him like this makes you feel like you’ve just experienced extreme whiplash. It embarrasses you more knowing that you figured Jake was too inexperienced to know how to fuck a girl. He was too sweet. 
Too soft.
Too different from his friends.
As you look at him now though, you realize he isn’t different at all. In fact, he might have been more full of shit than any of the others as you stare at his wicked eyes and nod of approval at Heeseung. 
Hell, he’s even the one who mutters out a small, “Show us her tits.” 
The only reason Heeseung does as Jake asked is because he can’t help but relish in the look on their faces of seeing what they could have had, but now never will. To see them lose. To witness him win. 
They’re pathetic. Truly, when he drags your shirt up your belly and over your chest. Already braless, of course. And honestly, you’re shocked that they all react this way like you didn’t just send them tit pics but– 
This is more embarrassing somehow. Four pairs of eyes are on you and only one pair of hands. You want all of their hands. 
“I fucking knew you’d let me do this.” Heeseung chuckles against your ear, cupping his hands under your tits and presenting them to his friends. Bouncing them, rubbing them, pulling on both nipples before releasing them and letting your tits fall into their natural position. “Knew you were a slut the moment I saw the kind of panties you had hidden in that suitcase of yours.” 
You glance away from the camera now, knowing Heeseung is right with his words. 
“You should be fighting me, not dripping that pretty pussy all over me. Am I wrong?” 
You should be fighting. You shouldn’t be okay with this moment being broadcasted to three different people that you’ve been leading on. And yeah, you should hate him for all of the confusion and mental anguish he put you through. 
Yet, the arousal you have for him outweighs all of it. The arousal you have for this situation in general outweighs any shame you could feel, or the shame that comes after it. 
Being wanted like this by four men who you find incredibly attractive? 
“What more could a girl want?” You murmur in a hushed tone, rolling your hips just slightly on his lap, letting him feel the warmth of you seep into his sweatpants. His cock still hard and raging from your previous actions of choking on him.
Those words shock him as his eyes glance to the screen, noting how you’re writhing your body on him, totally shameless, totally fucking perfect with your tits out and on display, only pushing for more. It’s the fact that he fucking forgot he had his head set on for a moment and didn’t even catch that you whispered that shit straight into his mic. 
He only realized it when he saw three faces on screen drop to a slack jawed expression and Sunghoon immediately leaned forward with a groan of “spread her legs.” 
On any other day, for Heeseung, Jake, or Jay, seeing Sunghoon clearly push his pants down his thighs off camera would make them recoil and make fun of him. But they’re not right now, because the focus isn’t on any of the cocks being openly hard in this shared online space. 
The focus is on you, and the way Heeseung absolutely spreads your legs and pushes your knees up by the thighs so that the flat of your feet are resting on his knees. There, he drops his hands from your tits and reaches around you, rubbing the line of your shorts on the insides of your thighs just enough that glimpses of your panties flash every few seconds. 
From back here, the camera offers Heeseung the same view but it hits him differently because he’s the one doing it. He’s got his head resting on your shoulder as he watches, noting how you lean your head back against his own shoulder and breathe through his guided touches. 
“Look at yourself.” He turns his head to whisper right against your cheek. “You’d let us all take a turn, hm? Wouldn’t even know which dick is in you.”
Your eyes open in a roll, landing your gaze on the screen and feeling flushed at the image. You don’t care how embarrassing or pathetic you are for this. No, because, look at them. Everyone wants you to act like this. 
“Probably wouldn’t even care either, as long as you’re being fucked. Yeah, that’s right.” 
Nodding in a daze against him, you roll your hips harder, trying to bump his hand against your pussy, trying to prove to everyone that you have three holes and two hands for a reason. 
You don’t flinch when he slides his hands up the leg of your shorts either, pulling them to the side to reveal how wet you are to everyone. Listening to your body and the way it sings to him, brushing his knuckles against the swell of your clit, tapping the space where your hole sits and clenches to be seen. 
“Ah, fuck.” Jay finally lets out in a shaky breath, hand clearly still working himself because, well, he was half hard before you made an even appearance on camera. “It looks like she pissed herself–” 
Heeseung laughs as he drags his eyes to the image between your legs, so wet, entirely drenched through your nearly see-through panties at this point. Jay is right, it does look like you’ve pissed yourself, which only makes his cock throb more. That you’re so wet for him? So fucking drenched? God, he doesn’t even need lube with you.
You slick up so nice for him, it’s actually becoming painful not to test the stickiness, the slide it offers, the warmth. With this much pouring out of you, like you’ve already squirted, surely you could take all of him.
In an instant he pushes you from his lap, making you feel dizzy and light headed because suddenly you’re on your feet in front of him again. He gives you no time to balance yourself when he’s pulling your shirt up and off of you in a huffed out sigh, holding you in place by your tits to keep you from toppling over and breaking his monitor.  
And when you steady out, his hands run straight down, shoving your shorts and panties down in one go before immediately pulling you back to his lap, holding your arms behind you, and spreading his own legs to force yours open for his friends.
“Take a good, long, look.” Heeseung directs towards his friends, sliding his hand in front of you and using two fingers to present your hole to them. “If you think she’s pretty, let her know now.” 
It’s the way Heeseung moves his hand from behind you just to set his headset on your head now, quickly pinning your arms in place again and allowing you to listen to his friends do just that. 
Immediately, pussy spread and unintentionally clenching in the camera, one of your senses is enveloped with the sound of Jay’s palm shamelessly dragging up and down his hidden cock. Then, the sound of Jake and his deep inhales paired with slight cracked whines, just as shameless, doing much the same.
Then, Sunghoon.
Fucking Sunghoon. Barely moving, but more willing to talk to you with that headset on your head. 
“This why you didn’t come over?” He asks you blatantly in a breathy voice, glaring at the fingers of Heeseung holding your cunt open for him. “That could be me right now, but you’re really just going to fuck him? Of all people?”
You groan, lifting your head to give a proud nod and accidentally bumping Heeseung in the chin with the action. 
The bump forces him to bite his tongue, a metallic taste of the small amount of blood flooding his mouth mixed with saliva when he dips his head, grabbing you by the hair and forcing your mouth to his.
You can taste the blood too, when he presses his wet tongue past your lips without so much as swallowing the mixture first. Practically drooling and spitting into your mouth through the rough kiss. It feels like your drowning, kissing him back like you’ve always wanted to, tasting him in a new way now and moaning into it. 
Like a slut, really. Just fucking moaning. And he only forces more out of you too, as you feel him adjust his hands, holding you here on his lap, rough tongue bleeding against yours, sliding two fingers into you with one push. 
God, finally. Fucking, finally. 
Your mouth falls open in a sharp inhale of feeling his fingers, his lips turning to a smirk at hearing one of his friends audibly moan at the image on screen for them. You just showed how much of his saliva you were savoring, diluted red in the drool dripping down your chin through your moan.
You’re dirty, all four of them can see that much. But only Heeseung gets to feel it. 
His cock throbs at the image when he strains his eyes to the screen, plunging his fingers in, out, in, out, until he pulls them from you entirely, thrusting them into your open mouth instead. 
You squeal at the intrusion of his sudden fingers against your tongue, offering a third taste in your mouth. Yourself. 
“Mhm,” Heeseung encourages you. “Suck it up like you did for me the other day.”
You hear Jake gasp at the idea that you’ve already done this for Heeseung before, probably leading him to believe that Heeseung has also probably already fucked you.
And hell, with how it’s looking, none of them would be shocked if that were the case. 
“You’ve been doing this while talking to us?” Jake tries to confirm with you through a breathed sigh, groaning and unintentionally showing that he…wouldn’t mind. 
“God, I don’t even want to fuck you now.” Sunghoon on the other hand, isn’t so willing and lies, absolutely wanting to be the person fucking your lips with his fingers. “After Heeseung? Disgusting.” 
Oh, they think he’s fucked you already? 
You shoot your eyes open, trying to shake your head in a “no” at them but still suckling around his fingers. 
“Goddamn,” Heeseung grunts, rutting up against your back, letting his cock leave leaking little spots of his precum against your lower back. “Your sister would never act like this.” 
“You should be ashamed, but you love it.” He continues, talking, talking, talking. Shoving his fingers deeper, deeper, deeper. “Work that tongue like a good girl.” He continues to whisper from behind you before– 
You’re gagging. Feeling his fingers reach deep into your throat and press your tongue down to the point you’re forced to open your mouth wide. Exposing not only your finger-fucked pussy to his friends, but now your open and constricting throat. 
Sunghoon immediately regrets his insult at you, seeing how wide and open your throat can be. Gagging openly with very little sound as Heeseung compresses your tongue through it. 
You’re drooling again, eyes blinking up at the ceiling as if you could possibly find a way to drink away your tears. 
That’s about as much as Jay can take, gripping the base of his weeping length, willing it to stop threatening him with an orgasm before Heeseung really gets you looking pretty. He chokes up through the mic, and the sound runs straight through your body.
There, he watches you moan through an open and dry mouth, throat muscles tensing just to get the sound out. He grips harder, needing to pull his eyes away but struggling so hard to fucking do. 
“Shit, baby. Stop.” Jay calls through the microphone, forcing his friends eyes on him, yours included, as all of you watch him vibrate in his seat in an attempt not to cum. “Stop moaning.”
Heeseung hears him say it, and intentionally gags you again instead. Bumping his fingers at the back of your throat with a smile on his face. Glancing between all of his friends, seeing how pathetic they are for what he does to you. 
The fact that they’re sticking around at all? Both great and fucking embarrassing. Even more embarrassing than you. 
Then Heeseung focuses back on you, tears running down your pretty cheeks, mouth agape, throat struggling to adjust still to his fingers despite taking his cock like that’s the only shape or size it wanted. 
Ah, your body is so pathetically telling, and he grants you the release of another gag by sliding his fingers out of your mouth and straight back to your warm, pulsing, hole.
Right back in, one hole filled at all times it seems, as he feeds into the whiplash he’s able to give you. You didn’t even notice how he shoves you off of his lap until you can no longer see the screen in front of you and are face to face with his keyboard. No frustrated face of Jay, no forced calm and collected expression from Sunghoon, no blatantly bitten lips of Jake. 
No, only the feeling of Heeseung chasing your hole with his fingers, your hips running from the touch due to sensitivity and buckled knees. He holds you there against his desk, standing behind you and pressing his cock between your ass cheeks. Fingers roughly rubbing your clit, sliding down to fuck into you, then out again to rub you harder.
His friends watch you try to run your lower half away from him, but his eyes stay glued to the camera, as if he’s staring into the soul of his friends. 
“You guys wanna see me fuck her?” He comments in a sly tone, cock grinding against you. “I can fuck her.” 
“Ah, Hee–” You groan as a response, listening to the slapping of palms against cocks only grow more furious and finally relaxing your body to now search for his fingers, just to push yourself back on them. “Please.”
He snickers from behind you, grabbing a hand full of hair at the back of your head as he rips his fingers from your needy hole, wiping them along your cheek as he forces you to look at him. 
“Again.” He demands, now pinching your cheeks with one hand, arching your back more by the pull of your hair. “Say, “Please, Seungie, fuck me.” He whispers into your mouth, loud enough for the mic to pick up the way you swallow around his words. 
“Say, “Please, Hee, give it to me.” He continues, making his voice higher pitched as if to mock your moans.
Sunghoon watches and listens in shock, never once wanting to know that this is how his own friend fucks someone, but goddamn. It’s like he’s just found the video on page 86 of pornhub that hit just right as he watches. Fucking up and into his fist like his life depends on it, waiting, waiting, waiting, for you to moan out just like Heeseung is telling you to. 
And it’s the fact that you fucking do, Heeseung watching the way Jake presses his entire body into his chair, staring down at himself with a fast moving palm, so fast that he can see his friend lose himself to the pleasure.
Jay, near tears in his eyes as he watches, probably moaning in your ear like a mad man right now. 
You fucking say it.
You say both, moaning in a choked gasp when you feel him stick his tip in you at it. 
“Please–” You hiccup as you try to repeat the words again and again for him. “God, yes.” You rasp out in a deeper tone at the feeling of him slide in. 
And he keeps sliding in, trying to keep himself from rolling his eyes back when he bottoms out and feels your cunt clench him as if you’ll never let it go.
And then, one quick thrust, holding your hair in his hands, arching you harder, his other hand reaching for yours and holding them behind your back, he fucks forward. 
Your tits bounce with the movement, neck strained to keep your eye on his face as you try to adjust to the full size of him entering you.
“She just takes it.” Heeseung grunts with a choked breath. “Shit, so goddamn tight.” He murmers again, nearly unable to stand on his own two feet how tight you are.
He forces you to look at him through it, squeezing your hands together so tightly through it that you can barely focus on the pain of your positioned body against the feeling of his cock splitting you open with each hard thrust. 
And then, you let out the most filthy, wet, pornographic cry. 
Heeseung then brings his attention to his monitor one last time, watching the pathetic mess of people in front of him getting off entirely on his cock driving into you. 
“I win.” He says with one pointed thrust, keeping his hips pressed against your ass and only pressing in harder, trying to reach another inch in, trying to break past whatever wall inside of you keeps him from impaling you entirely on him. 
All three friends burst into a feeling of realization, Jake already mid orgasm at the sound of that moan you just cried out– 
Then theres….nothin but the feeling of Heeseung releasing your hands and allowing you to grip his desk through this deep hold of his length inside of you. 
Suddenly, no sound through the headset, the light of the monitor in your peripheral vision goes off, and Heeseung is breaking his demeanor just to moan out in full again. 
“Drove them crazy,” He chuckles through a wet groan, now snapping his hips back and leaning forward just to push back into you, deeper, deeper, until his desk ruts against the wall with the tight hold on you. “Driving me fucking crazy.” He whispers, holding his open lips right against your neck when he hunches over in this paused thrust. 
“You looked so good.” He says again, suddenly praising you, suddenly able to relish in the pleasure he’s giving you rather than pretending it does nothing for him. 
You blink away tears, feeling your twisted and turned body, still trying to look at him through this even if he’s released your hands. 
He can see that look of realization on your face and smiles at that too before shooting his hands to your middle and forcing you back and against him. 
He keeps his dick in you, too obsessed with the drag your walls offer to him, and holds you against him just to shift to the side and press you back on the misplaced couch in the room. Man cave stuff, and alla that. 
You watch him guide you face first into the cushions before he is grabbing your hands again, holding them right back in pace behind your back with one hand, and the other pushing your face even further into the pillows. 
“You have no fucking idea, do you?” He grunts, slamming into you again, eyes glued to the way your body strains to accommodate the position he wants you in. “How much better you are?”
Oh. Really now? 
You smile through suffocated breaths, the fabric of the couch invading the taste of your own breath and forcing you to love it just as much. You bite down, listening to his spilling words. 
“Begging me like that for my friends to hear, like you didn’t know I wanted to do this?” He continues, burying himself deep again and holding it there again. “Fucking my pillow instead of me.” 
He seems a little more angry now. 
“Turning my friends on when you wanted me,” He grabs your hair again, pulling you back into that same painful arch and forcing you to stare up at the wall. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart, I would’ve given it to you every time.” 
The reality that this is not your boyfriend is so far from you right now. The fact that your sister is working away right now to pay the light bill, gonna come home later and share a bed with this man? You’re not even jealous. 
In fact? You’re on top of the world listening to him want you more. 
And at this point, Heeseung can tell you’re smiling, looking blankly at the wall and totally lost from this world. This is exactly what he wanted. 
Such a pretty little sister, winning him over the bitch that won’t even choke on his cock? It could have been so much easier for you. But this was fun for him, watching you want him and know you couldn’t have him.
Despite him proving that you could have had him any day of the week.
“All you had to do was ask.” He repeats into your ear, now slowing his pace until he pulls out. 
He takes a step back, gazing at the way your open pussy still clenches for him, the way your ass shakes slightly with your legs. 
“Aww,” He coos, blinking at you from behind and reaching forward to flip you over. “You wanted it so bad too, can’t believe you waited.” 
You see him now, fully in person rather than through the image on his monitor. His skin looks so much more full of life, cheeks tinted and hair more fucked up than you’ve ever seen it. Cock huge, weighed against his leg. 
You’re shocked you took all of it like that previously, unable to relish in the pain of it because your senses were overloaded with moans and his own boasting. 
“Your sister doesn’t have to know.” He says now, eyes trailing your body. 
“Ah–” You wince when he licks his fingers and lowers his hand to your clit, one hand spreading your legs out now that he’s got you on your back. “I really didn’t know.”
Heeseung chuckles, finding you entirely too cute and endearing as you look up at him with those fucked out lips trying not to quiver at your sensitivity. 
“You were too dumb to take a hint.” He leans forward, now, using his hand to lift your leg up to your chest, rubbing his cock right against your hole as he pulls his other hand up now, propping up your other leg. “Too stubborn to realize.” 
You nod in a slightly broken way, unsure of if you were the one putting yourself through torture, or if you really were too dumb to notice he was trying to get you to go insane for him. 
He wanted you to jump on him. He wanted you to take it like this. 
“And you won’t tell her?” You whisper now, losing the ability to think much more when he grinds himself down, keeping eye contact with you, that same smirk you both hated and loved. 
He shakes his head at you, almost sweetly when he adjusts his cock to slide in again, knocking the breath out of you with a choked moan. 
“She won’t find out if you can be quiet when she’s home.”
Oh fucking no. He wants to…continue this? This isn’t a one time thing? He’s going to try while she’s home? While she’s gone?  Arguably, you’re fucking glad.
“When she’s–?” You try to question, stopping short when he bottoms out in a groan, breathing in through his nose before lending you a tight, short thrust. 
“Mm, yeah, I’m gonna be in you every day.” He moans, thinking about the image alone of sneaking into your room while his girlfriend is fast asleep.
Fucking you in his bed. In your bed. On the shared couch. Everywhere. Everyday. 
“God, she’d hate us both.” He chuckles through the same moans he can’t stop from spilling out of his throat. “Finding out I’m so deep, so raw like this.”
Fuck. Right.
“Wait–” You come to realization, clenching from panic at the fact that a condom didn’t even come to mind. “Fuck, Hee, wait!” 
He only presses harder now, smiling at how you’ve finally managed to come to your senses. Fucking you faster when you try to wiggle your hips away. Fucking you harder, pressing his entire body weight against the back of your thighs just to force you to stay in one place. Pussy open and spread out, clenching his cock so nicely. 
“Gonna fuck you full,” He kisses your forehead with the horrifying words. “You’ll do it for me right? She won’t let me.”
Those words ring in your head. If she won’t let him, you sure as fuck will. You can deal with the consequences later. You no longer fight to pretend he’s not ramming your g-spot, forcing your voice to shake through a cry of his name. 
“I’m not–” You choke out through cries, feeling your body tense up. “I’m not on birth co-”
“Fuckkkk, yes.” He rolls his eyes back at your half spoken words, losing it at the thought of dripping his seed into you and knowing he’s sterile enough to scare you both for good. “Take it,” He thumps his cock as far into you as he can, willing you to nod your head, willing you to love this as much as he does. 
It’s the fact that you’re not trying to wiggle away now, he can feel your hole pulse at hit words, the way you want to be better than your sister, the way you’d truly let him. 
Even more the fact that you’re not the one he should be shooting his seed into. It should be your sister, the woman who wants to marry him, the woman who said she simply wasn’t ready to bear his child.  Not that you want to either, but goddamn do you want to be fucked full of the possibly, you say it yourself in a harsh grip around his neck, tugging at the long strands of hair at the nape of his neck. 
“Do it.” You whisper through hiccuped moans, his thrusts scooting you up and down on the couch at the sheer force of them. 
“Yeah,” He nods his head, pressing harder against your legs as he chases the very high you’re asking him to give to you. “You want it?” He encourages you to keep telling him. He needs you to tell him. 
You nod frantically, feeling your body tense up again, trying to reach your hands between your legs to rub your swollen clit. Shockingly, that simply touch of your fingers sends you straight over edge, cumming so hard around his deep thrusts that you can barely hear him praise you through it with drawn out groans of “Ah, you’re squeezing me–” and “Just like that, I’m–”
His voice is clear though, when his hips stutter in place and he’s holding himself still. You can feel the pulse of him releasing into you through the last moments of your orgasm. 
“Take it.” He moans. “Take all of it.” He continues, pulling out half way so that his cum drenches every part of your hole. 
There, he uses his hand to milk the rest of it out of him, eyes squeezed shut as he feels the sensation of your own orgasm only slick up the inside of you more than he is, and then– he rams back in. Pushing his cum deep. So deep that you moan at the feeling, knowing the mess is dripping down your ass, and being shoved so far against your cervix that– Well. You panic. 
Arguably, Heeseung should panic too, but he doesn't as he heaves in a deep and relieved sigh, sliding out of you once and for all. 
He just looks at you, a mess on the office couch, pussy pumped full of him, swollen, still pulsing. 
“Can I be honest?” He breathes out after running his hands through his sweaty hair, dropping them down with a slap to your now relaxed legs.
At your silence, he continues anyway. “You’ve never looked prettier than right now.” 
And, well. You realize that with those words alone, selfish and self absorbed as you relish in them, you decide you don’t care that he’s just fucked you raw without a care in the world that he just cheated on the supposed love of his life. You both have won in this situation, and pregnancy isn’t such a scare anyway when he walks away a mere minute later and comes back with a fucking Plan-B pill. 
You’re confused by it at first, popping it into your mouth and looking at him with raised brows. 
“Why do you just have these?” You ask, still catching your breath. 
“She takes one every time we have sex, even with a condom.” He rolls his eyes.  You smirk, noting how if there’s anything you do better than your sister…It’s fucking her boyfriend.
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lovelyghst · 4 months
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ghost has such a vast array of names he calls his sweetheart in bed, but the one that won’t leave my mind is porn star. just listen ok—
he doesn’t even mean it in a degrading way, whatsoever. teasing, maybe, but never outright cruel. he just loves admiring you and your aptitude; your willingness to break a sweat when you’re on top of him, your resilience when he asks you if you need a break and you shake your head fervidly because he hasn’t reached his peak yet.
he absolutely adores all the noises you make. the soft and dulcet hums in your throat when he’s making love to you, to the rapid huffs of air being pushed directly from your lungs when he grabs your hips and uses you like how you begged him to. god, and your expressions? your smile as you unbuckle his belt, and your giggles when he flips it around on you and sneaks a hand beneath your skirt. even when you’ve been fucked utterly dumb, you’re still the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. it’s all so erotic to him, like it belongs on film.
and so he eventually comes through to just that, taking out a camcorder that happened to be lying around; one that he definitely didn’t purchase for the exact purpose of filming a little sex-tape with you, certainly not ordering it online behind your back or anything.
you happily put on a little show for him, with the lively energy in your voice turning sensual and your exaggerated reactions that soon become all too real. the lens staring you down from above as he takes his time with you, cooing at you the tenderest of praises whilst breaking you down to a shuddering mess beneath him before he even gives you his cock. slowly massaging your aching pussy, past your hiked up dress and through your cotton panties, just to drag his hand up your body and have you suck on the very thumb that made the soaked spot on your underwear. he’s such a mean, mean tease.
he’s enamored with the way your cunt stretches to fit his cock, especially how it shows up on the small screen of the camera. each ridge dragging against your soft flesh wrapped so tightly around him, to the point where his breath is hitching in his throat and he’s failing to suppress those faint groans and swears spilling past his lips.
“makin’ all these depraved noises for me, and no shame you’re bein’ recorded? already fucked you that stupid, ‘ave i, sweet girl?”
you moan unabashedly at that, words that should be demeaning only hitting you right in the sweet spot. you can no longer keep your eyes on the lens above you, reaching out to grasp at the wrist connected to the fingers circling your raw pussy as you plead with your brows. you’re so overwhelmed, though enjoying it far too much to quit.
wrapping your legs around his back and pulling him in closer, eyes rolling back. swollen lips falling further agape and making him chuckle lowly. he goes on ramming his cock into the sticky mess of your cunt, thumbing your clit to push you over so that the last thing your fuzzy mind will hear is him calling you his favorite nickname:
“my pretty, little porn star… takin’ everything she’s given, ‘n with no complaint. just like a good actress does, right, baby?”
he spurs you on, grinning huge behind the camcorder he holds when you hum and nod along with whatever he says. you pull his free hand into your own, lacing your fingers with his; he always grounds you so well after he’s spun you higher than a ballerina. dazed and content, and simple happy to give him something to watch while he’s away. you never have to act when you’re with him, but you can’t help the butterflies swarming your tummy whenever he praises you for it.
“there’s my good fuckin’ girl… now smile for the camera, princess.”
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prettys0bbing · 25 days
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imagine recording a sex tape with boyfriend!rafe 😮‍💨🤭 he'd be so smug about it too
i love your mind. i also think just the act of recording would make him slightly feral.
˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖
honestly i think he’d be so mean about it. he’s already kind of a bully during sex and i think that you letting him record you both would drive it over the edge. he’d start off real nice, using one hand to record while teasing your clit with the other. making sure he’s capturing how pretty you look as you moan underneath him, he’d press harder. “gotta give the camera a show, huh? show me how much of a whore you are, letting me record you like this.” his voice dripping in lust and his eyes hungry as they bore into yours. all you can do is whine back at you as he slips two fingers inside of you to prove his point.
after you finish at least once on his hand, he switches it around so you can give him head. rafe has you sit there for a moment, dirty talking you as he slaps his tip against your lips. “such a fucking slut, kid. want everyone to see how well you swallow my dick?” as you put him into your mouth, he puts the phone down at an angle where you can still see anything and gathers your hair into one hand and starts thrusting into your mouth. “takin’ it so fuckin well. choking on this dick for daddy.” he grunts, giving a few harder thrusts before pulling out to let you breathe. he wipes the spit that’s fallen on your chin across your face, before slapping you twice. they aren’t necessarily hard hits but they’re just enough to put you in a daze as he shoves his cock back into your mouth.
he fucks into your throat at an animalistic pace, holding your head still with his hand as he grabs his phone again. you moan around him, brain hazy and dumb. “wanna say hi to the camera baby?” he says as he slows down, putting the camera closer to your face to capture the mess he’s made of you. lines of mascara have travelled down your cheeks with his cock still stuffed in your mouth and he swears you’ve never looked better. “c’mon kid, on the bed.” he demands, pulling out of your mouth and tapping your cheek gently. “needa fuck your pretty pussy.” he lines himself up with you, using one hand to lift your leg onto his shoulder and record as he teases his head along your slit.
“ ‘s fuckin wet. you like this shit huh? like it when i record you being a dumb slut?” he teases as he glides through your slit with ease. without warning, he pushes into you and starts pounding into you. you let out a loud moan, grabbing onto him. you can see him smirk slightly, grabbing onto your hip to give himself more leverage to reach deeper inside of you. as he hits deeper, your eyes get hazy and you squeeze them shut. practically panting as he drills in and out, you begin to clench around him. “f-fuck rafe, ‘m gonna cum! you’re so deep god.” you whine, too fucked out to care. “cum for me dollface. show me how good it feels.” he groans, his own release steadily approaching. you spasm around him, letting out pornagraphic moans your release gushing out of you as you clench down even tighter around him.
he finishes after you, painting your insides white as his hips stutter and slow to a stop. he slowly pulls out of you while pointing the camera towards your cunt to see his cum spill out of you. “fuck baby, look at you messy you are. letting me drip out like that.” he teases, using a finger to collect some and push it back inside of you. as your leg twitches from the stimulation, he pulls back out and puts it in your mouth allowing you to taste the mixture of both of your release. “that’s my girl, always so good f’me.” he praises, cutting the camera off and leaning down to kiss you. “such a good camwhore for daddy.”
˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖
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bratbby333 · 6 days
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i will possess your heart – satoru gojo
-this story contains very heavy nsfw content! please read at your own discretion!-
𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 content warnings dead dove fic- heavy stalking, violent obsession, manipulation, forced voyeurism, forced exhibition, drugging, mentions of blood, knives, use of restraints, plot twist, dub-con 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 synopsis for as cocky as Satoru is, it’s oddly fitting. in his mind, everything belongs to him, including you. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 word count 8k
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Satoru fumbled with a tripod as he positioned his camera onto the stand and proceeded to hit record. He was thorough, making sure his chair was perfectly centered before he sat down, staring at himself in the viewfinder while he fussed with his hair, inhaling deeply. A wide grin cut across his face before dropping back into lackluster neutrality. He looked down at his lap, his fingers ran up and down his denim-clad thighs. He snapped back onto the camera blank-faced before a deranged smile pulled at his cheeks.
Click
January 16th, 4:06 AM
I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point. I’m plagued by the shadows, my entire life enshrouded in darkness. I don’t remember what things were like before. Day by day, it’s all the same. I cannot escape it—this anchoring feeling of despair. The emptiness eats away at me. I’m in search of release…of some sort of freedom from this pain. I need to fill my life with meaning, to find purpose in this accursed world…I think I’ll go out for coffee today. People watching brings me so much joy. They seem to live much happier lives than me.
Click
January 16th, 6:38 PM
My daydreams must’ve blended into reality because there was no way I created someone as beautiful as she was outside my imagination. I’m certain of it. She was sitting at the bar of the cafe down the street from my apartment, dressed in business casual—she probably works nearby. How kismet. The coffee was bland, as were most things in my life, but she awoke something in me. I hope I see her again. She somehow managed to clear the cobwebs around my heart. I think my life has finally found purpose. She is my driving force. I wonder what her name is.
Click
January 19th, 6:11 AM
Feeling well-rested today. Four hours of sleep is my new record. I plan to go to the coffee shop again. Back to the place where my eyes were first blessed with the mirage of her…where I first fell in love. I hope she’s there. People are so fun to observe when they don’t think they’re being watched…it’s simple psychology. The Hawthorne Effect. When humans notice they are under observation, they change. So inauthentic. But her? She never notices. She sits so obliviously, allowing me to take her in with ease. So good to me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope to work up the courage to speak to her soon. My heart soars at the mere thought of being in her presence once again. It’s so refreshing to feel something after all this time. I’ve been numb for so long, but she has set my heart on fire. She is everything to me, my sole purpose for existence.
Click
January 19th, 8:27 PM
I saw her again today. She didn’t see me. Just how I like it. She typed away on her computer like normal…she’s a hard worker, it seems. Driven and strong. And here I was thinking such beauty was a thing of legend. It's refreshing to have been proved wrong–that rarely happens. Oh, how I crave her. I know she’d make me feel whole again. She can save me from all this, I can feel it. 
Click
January 23rd, 5:13 AM
Only two hours of sleep tonight. But, for some reason, I feel better than ever… I normally do when I find a reason for living, again. It’s her…it must be because of her. She keeps me going; my muse, my inspiration. She’s worked wonders on me already and she doesn’t even know it, yet. I’m going to the cafe again today, I cannot wait to see her. Maybe today I will finally speak to her.
Click
January 23rd, 9:53 PM
She never showed up today…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe she had other things to do. It’s fine, really. I’m annoyed, honestly. I waited around all day. I’ll keep checking until I see her again. 
Click
January 28th, 7:06 PM
My sweet girl has gone missing. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. This is just ridiculous. The woman I love…is she avoiding me? No, no that cannot be. 
Click
February 2nd, 8:31 AM
I haven’t slept well in days. I’ve been awake for twenty six hours now…my mind feels like it’s filled with static and yet, I feel sharper than ever. I’ve gone to the cafe every day. Still no sign of her. I’m slipping back into my old ways, the darkness is going to return any moment. I’ve begun to hear the laughter in the shadows again. They’re making fun of me, I just know it. I need her…oh, I need her so bad. How could she do this to me? Does she not know how much I suffer when she’s not around? If I don’t see her again soon, I will never recover.
Click
February 5th, 6:21 PM
I finally saw her again today. My heartrate spiked and I nearly leaped from my seat to kiss her, to hold her, sway her side to side in a deep hug. Instead, I slipped a tracker into her purse as I walked by her chair. I must know where she works, where she lives, and what she enjoys in her free time. She slipped away from me so easily…can’t let that happen again. I need to know every little thing about her. She is my one and only after all. It would be ridiculous to love someone so deeply and know nothing about them. She is too beautiful, I cannot let her wander around unsupervised. There are some crazy people out there—you never know what could happen. I can’t lose her. I must keep her safe. I will possess her heart. No one else can have her but me. 
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Satoru observed her for months, shadowing her all around town. He knew the woman’s routine like the back of his hand, before he ever learned her name. Sunday’s she went grocery shopping, Monday after work was her pilates class, every couple of Thursday’s she was at the nail salon, and Friday’s were seemingly payday–he picked up on her pattern of going out to nice restaurants every other week. Satoru eventually got an upper-level management position at a company that shared the office building with her job–he is incredibly intelligent and overqualified, after all; they would be foolish to not hire him. Now he could really keep an eye on her.
That was when he finally learned her name–the two of them taking the same elevator. She didn’t recognize him as the man who seemingly had the same routine as her–it’s one of the many reasons why Satoru loved her so much: her naivety. She looked into his eyes for the first time that day, her voice was soft and angelic, and the name that fell from her lips sent waves through Satoru’s body, the same name that would now be coupled with his gasping moans every evening as he stroked himself to the thought of her. 
With Satoru’s new job that brought him one step closer to her, he knew he could no longer watch her in the way he used to. His movements had to be more calculated, putting more distance between them than he normally would or hiding behind the deep tint of his car windows. If she saw his face too frequently, she surely would have caught on. Satoru smiled at the possibility of her never catching on…how she’d greet him with a smile and a friendly hug each time they “coincidentally” bumped into one another, giggling about their lives' odd synchronicities. Such a sweet girl. If only she knew.
He stopped into her job, a small gift bag hanging off his slender fingers, desperate to watch her eyes light up with the sweet gesture of an unexpected gift. He asked to see her, only to be informed by the receptionist that she had the day off.
It was no worry, he didn’t let that dull his excitement. “I’m a friend of hers, brought this in to surprise her. Do you mind showing me to her desk, I’ll just leave it there for her when she returns to work,” he said kindly. The lady working the front desk blushed under his piercing gaze and handsome features, nodding shyly and walking him to his lover’s designated area. 
Satoru thanked her, stepping into the cubicle to place his gift by her computer. His eyes glazed over her workspace. It was decorated with trinkets and family photos. He picked one up, his thumb tracing over her face. His pretty girl. That smile could bring about world peace; it definitely quieted the angered voices in his head. He scanned her desk, a moment of envy shooting through him at the thought of her dainty fingers dancing over the keyboard rather than tangling in his hair. He groaned internally, looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was around, before ducking down, rummaging through his beloved’s drawers. Stowed away in the bottom of the unit was a fuzzy, white cardigan. He brought the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply, stifling the filthy moan that nearly echoed through the cubicle. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, took one last look around, and headed toward the exit. 
In the safety of his vehicle, Satoru whipped the clothing out from under his wing, bringing it to his face once more. He undid his belt buckle with haste, shoving his dress slacks halfway down his thighs before his large fist swaddled his cock with the fuzzy white cardigan. He nearly sobbed at the contact, the smell of his car filling with her beautifully floral perfume. He brought the free edge up to his nose, taking another whiff as his hand worked furiously against his shaft. He had never finished so quickly in his life, staggered whimpers and choked moans fell from his parted lips as fat ropes shot up onto his abs and chest. His cheeks were flustered a violent red as he wiped his sticky shame away with her top. After he came, then did his clarity, and Satoru’s body ached with the thought of how good it would feel to finally be sheathed within her sticky walls, rather than her soft clothing. I’ll be with you soon. Soon, my love. 
These feelings were getting unbearable. His overactive brain had him teetering on the edge of insanity. He needed more. His imagination was no longer enough to satiate the hunger that gnawed so deeply in his core, the distanced watching and hopeless longing for the love of his life created jagged rifts in his already damaged psyche. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few deep breaths and the promise he made to himself to take action soon quelled his burning desire. But for how much longer could Satoru repress the demon that clawed through his body?
Satoru surveyed her while she ran to the bank, walked her dog, or took her car to the wash. But his most favorite place to watch her was from the bench just outside her bedroom window, engulfed in darkness. Pretty girl lived on the second floor, her silly little brain assumed she didn’t need curtains. She never saw him, but he always saw her. All of her. Drinking in the way her clothes were delicately removed from her pretty little frame, the way she turned and posed in the mirror–so good to him. How her skin glistened after she got out of the shower, the water droplets running along her body in the same way Satoru wanted to. 
He fell into a state of bliss, feeling spoiled by the show he was getting tonight. The lotion that she worked into her body, the beautiful set of lingerie that she dawned. His eyes buzzed around his sockets, elation flooding through him. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl. But his body went rigid and his jaw locked tight at the appearance of another man behind the love of his life. He sat upright, shoulders stiff and heart pounding in his ears at the thought of his sweet being in danger, he cursed himself for not being more aware of her surroundings on her behalf. But when his darling girl turned to the unknown man with a smile, greeting him with a gentle kiss with the lips that were supposed to be just for Satoru, his heart shattered into a million pieces. 
Oh, no. This just won’t do, my love. You are mine. 
Jealousy coursed through his veins while he looked into her room, rage balled in his fists as he watched a random man have her in the one way Satoru couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He must’ve been new in her life, judging by the way his nervous hands explored every part of her skin. Satoru laughed at this–he knew he could please his woman so much better. But betrayal nipped at the back of his neck; how could she do this to him? Had his loyalty fallen on unappreciative shoulders? No, that couldn’t be. Satoru knew she was better than that, he picked her for a reason, after all. She was just playing hard to get. 
You rejected my advances and desperate pleas, and now you throw your relationship in my face. It’s punishment enough that I can’t have you, but I won't let you let me down so easily.
Feeling at a loss, swallowed whole by his hungered desperation, he did what any rational person would. He moved in next door.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Satoru Gojo was your next-door neighbor. He moved in only a few months after you did. You were elated, chalking it up to a lucky roll of the dice that you had met by chance at your job; he had started working for the company that shared the office park with yours. It really seemed like things were on the come-up for you. He was kind, confidently intuitive, funny, and supportive. Mildly egotistical, but it worked for him. He always invited you over for dinner and movie nights and was a strong, dependable shoulder for you to cry on. You had just moved to the city, feeling utterly lost and absolutely gutted about being so far from your support systems now, and he was your first friend. You felt safe knowing he was just a wall away. 
On a random Sunday, you opened your front door to see all the food you loved sitting at your doorstep–weird, you were just about to leave for the store. You turned your head, seeing Satoru peeking out from his cracked door, grinning at you. 
“Was this you, Satoru? You didn’t have to…this is incredibly thoughtful,” you beamed, stepping over the grocery bags to give him a tight hug. “You’re the best, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” But Satoru did, he knew exactly what you could do for him.
When you needed a ride to work, he jumped in to save you. The two of you worked in the same building after all. It was a crazy coincidence that your new neighbor turned best friend worked just a few floors above you. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? But it worked out perfectly for the two of you. 
There was a month where you were short on rent, and there was Satoru, paying the rest on your behalf. 
You weren’t catching on. Sweet, naive girl. Oh, how he loved you. I need to work harder to get her attention.
Satoru was not a patient man, but for you, he would do anything and everything to get you right where he wanted you, expertly playing the long game. It began with the fated sighting of you sitting in a cafe, and snowballed into something bigger. At first, he only ever observed you, maybe the minor occasion of overstepping, but as time went on, he couldn’t sit idly by. It was time to make his move.
His disruptions in your life started inconspicuously. Leaving for a date? You found your car tires slashed and windows shattered in the parking deck. Now there’s a police investigation. Bummer…gotta cancel the date. Had a guy over? Satoru’s apartment flooded. Weird… that was the second time this month. 
“You gotta talk to the landlord about this, ‘Toru,” you sighed. He had to stay at yours that evening. 
You cried on his shoulder, telling him that some guy stood you up on a date you had been anticipating for weeks. There was an electrical fire in that man’s apartment that night. Must’ve been faulty wiring...or something.
His apartment flooded again. He was back at your door. You welcomed him with open arms, of course. He’s so good to you, the least you could do is help him out, as well. 
Satoru, you’re slipping. That’s too many times in one month. Ease up or she’ll catch on.
Friday night, in a wild happenstance, he bumped into you while you were out with another man, enjoying a nice dinner together. He smiled warmly at the two of you, before politely dismissing himself. His cheery smile dropped into a demented grin once he stepped out of the restaurant as he anonymously called in a bomb threat to the establishment. You were so shaken up at the entire ordeal you practically begged Satoru to stay with you that night. He’d be a fool to turn you down.
Satoru got everything he wanted. You were just a tough nut to crack, is all. No big deal. He loved a challenge. After all, how could you not love him by now?
But nothing was working. You couldn’t catch the hint, even with everything he threw at you. He was always the one there for you, even when you weren’t aware of it. What more could he do to prove that he was the only person you needed? I’m reliable, witty, and loving… how can she not see this? He finally snapped. The last straw? Hearing your pleasure-filled cries while getting fucked by another man, your “boyfriend”. The lewd sounds ricocheted around your room, shooting through the thin walls of your apartment and straight into his listening ears.
Tsk, tsk. Now you’ve done it. Always been such a tease. 
For as cocky as he was, it’s oddly fitting. In his mind, everything belonged to him, including you. And with that, his demented plan was in full effect. He had hoped to spare you, prayed that you would fall in love with him before he lost his composure completely. But your sweet, naive nature had proved to be a difficult wall to break down. 
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Click
The sound of your front door’s lock disengaging echoed through the empty hallway. Satoru stepped in, inhaling deeply as he shoved your house key into his back pocket. It was far easier to gain access into your home than he had originally anticipated; he was fully prepared to break in, but all he had to do was tell your landlord you went out of town and you forgot to leave a key with him before you left. The manager of your apartment complex knew how close you and Satoru were, so it was an easy lie to tell. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You weren’t out of town, he wasn’t house sitting, and you had no intentions of having company this evening.
Seated at your desk, he opened your laptop and navigated his way to your iMessage settings, ensuring you could only send and receive texts from your laptop. Clicking on the messaging app, he stifled the gag that threatened to escape his throat as he clicked on the thread between you and your boyfriend, his contact name “my love” in your phone. He rolled his eyes, before drafting a quick text: 
-Hey, baby. I have a half-day at work today…dinner and wine at my place tonight? ;)
He grinned at the quickness of your boyfriend’s response.
-I would love that. What time, my love?
Satoru scoffed at the pet name. He doesn’t deserve to call you that. Poor bastard needed to learn his place. Heat rose in his chest, jealousy emanating through his skin as he crafted his response.
-3pm…Can’t wait to see you.
Everything was going according to plan. Satoru glanced at the clock beside him: 11:17 AM. It was time to get set up, he had a big day planned for you, and his first guest would be arriving in a few short hours. 
A knock rang through the apartment as Satoru finished lighting his final candle. He smiled wide, sauntering over to the door. He swung it open, grinning politely at your boyfriend. “...Hey, man…didn’t expect to see you here…” he said warily as Satoru stood to the side and gestured him in, a quizzical look painted on your partner’s face as he stepped through the doorway. The door shut and the lock was reengaged. “Where’s…” but before he could get his question out, his chin was met with Satoru’s right fist.
Satoru made quick work of dragging his body upstairs. He dug through the unconscious man’s pants, pulling out his cellphone. Satoru was disgusted to see that you were his lockscreen. This pitiful man wasn’t worthy enough to be with you. He rolled his eyes, unlocking the man’s phone and sending you a text: 
-Hey, beautiful. Come straight home tonight. I’m making dinner for us. See you when you get off work.
You smiled at the familiar ding of your phone, the notification effectively distracting you from your tedious paperwork. Your heart soared at the message, sighing deeply and shifting your weight around in your office chair. Your hand rubbed at your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks. 
“What is it?” your coworker asked. 
“Oh, nothing. I thought my boyfriend forgot our anniversary cause I hadn’t heard from him all day…but he just texted me saying he’s at my place and is making dinner for us tonight.” A giddy smile couldn’t help but drag across your face. 
Satoru looked at the clock: 3:28 PM. You would be home in an hour or so. Just a few more things had to be done, everything had to be perfect.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Your heart rate spiked as you got closer to your apartment door, keys jingling against your palm as you fumbled with the lock, excitement making your movements a bit clumsier than usual. You entered and kicked off your heels, and as you turned to toss your keys onto the small table in your foyer, you noticed a small card that said “Read Me” placed perfectly in the center of the tray. You were perplexed as your eyes scanned over the note. “Go to the living room” was all it said.
You blushed, a nervous smile pulling at the edge of your lips as you crept to the other room. Your eyes went wide at the sight; deep red roses were placed in the center of the coffee table and every accessible surface around the couch was adorned with beautifully flickering candles. Another note was on the table, your fingers fumbled with the edge of the card as you opened it: “Have a seat, take a sip, and press play.” You settled on the couch, noticing a glass of alluring red wine to the right of the roses. You took a few deep, fulfilling swigs of your drink before grabbing the TV remote. Your face twisted a bit, examining the glass in your hand, the flavor of wine different than the one you were used to. It was a special night after all, your thoughtful boyfriend must have wanted you to branch out this evening. Where is he, anyway? As you pressed play, you called out for him, only to be cut off by your own confusion as Satoru’s face appeared on your TV screen. You watched with perplexity as Satoru recentered his chair, smiled, relaxed his face, and then smiled again.
No…no, no, no. What is this? You were locked in place, the melodious sounds of Satoru’s voice cascaded out of your surround sound system. He looked different though, his eyes were dull and low, his voice monotonous–his alarming difference in demeanor sent a chill down your spine. Your groggy mind inferred that this must’ve been an accident. Maybe it was casted to the wrong TV. I shouldn’t be seeing this…these are Satoru’s video diaries. 
You so badly wanted to tear your eyes away from the screen, this seemed like such an invasion of privacy. But you were entranced, staring intently toward the TV, though you didn’t really have a choice, your body was completely numb now. 
“January 16th, 4:06 AM
I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point…” you fought to keep your eyes open, to piece together what the hell was happening, until your body eventually succumbed to sleep.
When you finally came to, you were laid out on your bed, fully nude. Soft grunts lingered in the air as you worked your hardest to refocus your eyes, your head pounding. You shifted your weight onto your forearms, your neck straining as it felt like your brain was filled with lead, eyes searching your bedroom for the culprit of the moans. One glance to the left, a quick look to the right, before you stared straight ahead at the wall directly across from the bed. Your body lurched in fear as your heart sank, the source of the sounds now looking you dead in the eyes: The man you had been seeing for the past couple of months, gagged and tied to a chair, his bloodied face twisted up in agony. 
You tried to call out for him. Your feeble attempts to drag your heavy body closer in order to console him were interrupted as the room was suddenly illuminated with the streaming lights of a projector. Your movements halted as you shielded your eyes immediately, the bright interruption feeling like a flashbang to your sensitive head. 
“We didn’t get to finish my show and tell,” a voice spoke up from the dark corner. 
“Satoru?? Wha…what is going on?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes while your hands attempted to cover your modesty. You tried your hardest to sit upright, your head spinning, unsure if Satoru was the culprit or your savior. Your body felt like it was anchored to the floor, your head throbbing with every word that tore through your chest. 
“There’s no need for all that yelling, sweetheart,” Satoru grinned, crouching down next to you. You winced as his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that trickled down your cheeks. 
Click
Metal cuffs clamped down on your wrists before you could even register what was happening. A million unanswered questions spun through the room as you frantically searched through his blue eyes, hoping to find any sort of insight into the torment he was inflicting upon the two of you. 
“This is what’s gonna happen, okay? I need you to listen to me.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, each syllable that left his lips more damning than the last as he dragged your limp body up the bed, securing your wrists to the headboard and angling your body toward the projected video on your wall. A crazed grin lit up his dull face as he raised his hand, pointing the remote toward the projector. “You’re gonna sit here and look all pretty f’me while you watch these tapes, and if you move, if you stop paying attention for even a second…” Your stomach churned at how gently he was able to give such vile instructions. He turned his attention towards your partner, the blade of a knife twirling through the slender fingers of his free hand, “...He’s dead. Understand, angel?” 
You nodded reluctantly, unable to do anything else but comply with his demands. Your head was spinning, trying to digest the fact that this was the same person who had paid your rent and entertained your rants after a hard day of work. You listened as his voice continued to drabble over the static of the projector, recalling how bland that day had been until he saw your face. How he must’ve dreamt of you because there was no way your beauty could exist outside of his imagination. To you, it had been a normal Tuesday afternoon. To him, it had been the start of the rest of his life. 
The longer you watched, the more the realization set in that the sweet gestures he presented to you were not out of the goodness of his heart, but from the darkness of his spirit, driven by his wanton lust. Your face was slack, eyes wide in horror. Disappointment crawled through your chest at your own naivety. How could I be so oblivious? So trusting? 
Satoru’s eyes bored into the side of your face as he sat beside you, his hands rubbing deep circles into your bare thighs, pure elation shooting through his veins at his sweet girl finally having a look into his mind. The look of terror that painted your beautiful face made his heart leap with joy. Satoru’s giddy demeanor dropped as pained grunts emerged from the tethered man against the wall. He stood, closing the distance between the two of them, his fist encircling your boyfriend’s throat. You began to protest, to plead with Satoru to leave him be, but the rage that filled his eyes made you shut your mouth. “Uh uh…eye’s on the screen, my love.” Your head snapped back toward the videos, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as the muffled wailing of your boyfriend filled the room. 
As the final video played, Satoru returned to your side, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he  stroked the back of your head and rubbed at your cheeks. “Can’t you see all that I’ve done for you?” He grabbed your face, digging his fingers deep into the space under your cheekbones, forcing your lips into a pucker. “You belong to me, my love.” A deep growl rumbled through his chest, “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, his hot tongue bullying its way through your tight lips. Small whines echoed through your mouth and into his, and Satoru greedily swallowed up your sounds with ease. Whimpers of protest came from the wall across from your bed, but they were quickly drowned out by the wet sounds of smacking lips and battling tongues.
He broke away, a thick trail of spit still connecting the two of you. Satoru released your cheeks with a gentle shove, throwing his leg over yours to straddle you. He dropped his head to your neck, his white hair brushing against your skin. You winced as he licked a thick line from your collarbone to your ear. “I finally get to have you,” he whispered, nipping at your flesh, “You ready to give yourself to me, princess?” Your eyes widened in horror, your gaze affixed towards your boyfriend, blood trickling from the fresh cuts on his cheeks. Your head shook side to side, tears brimming in your eyes once more as your thoughts raced through your mind, causing a traffic jam in your throat. “I…no, I can’t…he’s…” Satoru’s palm covered your mouth, a groan erupting from the back of his throat as his eyes rolled deep into his skull. He sat back, staring down at you, his free hand running its fingertips between your breasts. “This has nothing to do with him…It’s just me and you now, my love.” Your head snapped up to stare at your captor as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your nipples. A stifled moan teased the back of your throat, an exasperated look of fear in your eyes as you stared up at Satoru.
Your cheeks flushed as you held his gaze. He grinned back down at you before rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. Your chest arched toward him, a shameful hum dancing from your lips as he played with you. A deep laugh erupted from the blue-eyed man at your unintentional reaction, his head thrown back with pure joy as he continued to pull at your nipples. He leaned into your neck once more, his teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. “I knew it,” he purred, “Knew you wanted me, too. You were just playing hard to get, isn’t that right?” You shook your head once more, your words constricted in your chest. “N-no…I never wanted you,” you retorted, head thrown to the side, attempting to distance yourself from him, but to no avail. The weight of him anchored your lower half to the mattress while your tethered wrists held you in place.
A deep chuckle rumbled through Satoru, “So if I feel your pussy, it won’t be absolutely soaked right now?” A pathetic whimper escaped your throat as you shook your head furiously. The rolling motion against your nipples halted and his hand trailed lower down your abdomen. “Hmm…let’s see then, shall we?” he taunted, tracing your skin before rubbing your folds and dipping into your core. “I knew it…you’re fucking drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers in, shallowly teasing your hole before withdrawing, bringing his sopping digits between your faces, turning his wrist as the dim light of the room illuminated the wetness, making it glisten ever so slightly. He examined them before meeting your fearful gaze. “Why did you lie?” He sucked his middle digit into his mouth, his tongue lapping hungrily at your sweet juices as his eyes fluttered shut. A hum emanated from Satoru as his other soaked finger pushed past your lips, “Here, have a taste, pretty girl,” his long digit dancing around your tongue. “So fucking sweet. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this.” 
“I’ll ask you again, princess…Why’d you lie to me? I thought you were better than that,” he teased, an insincere pout twitching at his lips as he cradled your chin. Your body thrashed as his hands pawed down your body, plunging two fingers deep inside you again. Your back arched toward him, his knee between your legs was the only thing keeping you open for him. “I…It wasn’t..ahh!– I wasn’t lying…I–”. Your words fell on deaf ears as a wicked smile crept across Satoru’s face.
“Shhh…shhh my sweet girl, just lay back and enjoy,” he smirked as he crawled down your body, laying himself flat on the bed with his head nestled between your legs. Satoru’s body no longer shielded you from your boyfriend, your teary eyes darted across his face, a silent apology being sent his way. Small gasps escaped your lips as Satoru continued to pump into you, the tips of his curled fingers toying with your sweet spot. When you stared down at him, the look of pure desire peered back at you, the dampness between your legs skyrocketing at the sight. A scarlet dusting of shame brushed across your cheeks at your clear enjoyment of all this, even though it betrayed every natural instinct you had. His tongue darted out from between his lips, the tip circling your swollen clit as his fingers dipped in and out of you, his movements spurred on by his own desperation.
He was delirious, suckling against your clit while his fingers worked into you with fervor, moans and growls echoing through the room as he drank you in. You so badly wanted to break away, to console your boyfriend who had an unintentional front row seat to you falling apart on someone else’s tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, his digits hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Pleasure ripped through your body as a tightening sensation crept its way into your stomach. The rattling of your cuffs echoed through your bedroom as you fought against your restraints, desperately wanting to tangle your fingers in Satoru’s hair.
Your hips bucked toward his mouth, your body aching for release as your pelvis thrusted against his flattened tongue. You didn’t dare look away from Satoru, for you knew there was another set of eyes affixed upon the damning scene that was unfolding. He continued to hum and suck and pump into your core as you tightened around him, his slender fingers quickly coaxing your orgasm from your writhing body. Your eyes screwed shut as your gushy walls spasmed around his fingers, your release painting Satoru’s overly-eager face. He lapped at you some more, working you through your orgasm as he cleaned you up with his wickedly talented tongue. 
A deep growl broke through Satoru’s chest as he removed his head from between your legs, the back of his hand dragging across his chin, catching the last of your release before he licked you off of him. He sat upright, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, “Hope you were taking notes,” a smug grin on his face as he addressed your watching boyfriend. He redirected his attention to you. “Did so good f’me, angel. Dreamt of that for so long…” he grinned, his tongue darting out to trace along his lips, hoping there was still some of you coating his face “...I could do that all fuckin’ day.” 
Your shaking chest heaved as clarity settled into your mind. Satoru untethered your wrists from the headboard, shifting your body so that you were on your hands and knees, head positioned toward the wall your partner was leaning against. Strangled sounds rang from your boyfriend’s chest as you finally met his gaze. Humiliation prickling under your skin at the realization of what you had just done. But you had no time to dwell on it as Satoru repositioned himself on the bed.
“He’s gonna watch me destroy you, my sweet girl,” Satoru was kneeled behind you, lining himself up with your embarrassingly soaked entrance. He grasped your hips roughly, sinking into you in one fluid motion. You choked out a sob as you dropped your head in shame.
“You’re so pretty when you cry. He can’t help you…can’t save you. Go ‘head, keep cryin’ for him,” he cooed, his thrusts deep and slow inside of you. Jagged moans escaped your throat as the thick head of his cock brushed into your sweet spot. “He can’t make you feel as good as I do.”
He leaned down, reaching around to cradle your throat in his hand, squeezing tightly as he turned your head to the side, his sharp eyes running up and down your contorted face. “Can’t you see that you belong to me, how my poor heart aches for you? How badly I’ve needed you?” His thrusts were agonizingly slow but incredibly deep, the pressure in your tummy betraying your desire for this to stop. “That’s it, my love. Feel you clenching down on me…you’re getting off on this, aren’t ya?” His hips rocked deeper into you, the new depth had your hands clawing at the sheets of your bed as pleasure worked its way through your trembling body.
“He doesn’t treat you the way I do. He never will. No one is better for you than me, princess,” he seethes, his hand cupping your chin, holding your head up, “Now look in his eyes while I use you.” His pace picked up, pulling you back on to him with his anchored hand around your neck. A broken sob cut through your constricted throat as he fucked into you, the visceral sound of flesh smacking against flesh and whines and cries spun through the otherwise stiff air of your room. He palmed at the fat of your ass, pulling your body to meet his rough thrusts. A choked cry left your lips as you maintained eye contact with your boyfriend, crimson droplets running down his face, mimicking the pattern of your tears. You mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” to him before your eyes shut tightly, waves of sinful bliss pulsed through your body with every mean thrust of Satoru’s hips.
“Gettin’ so tight around me–f-fuuuck–you’re close, huh?” Your face contorted in shameful pleasure as you nodded, your back arching even more to take him deeper. “That’s it…c’mon, my love. Need you to cum on my cock,” Satoru begged, his voice airy as he got lost in your tight, sopping walls. “Show me how good I make you feel.” His words ricocheted around your head as the building pressure in your stomach finally snapped, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body, splattering onto Satoru’s thighs and the mattress below you. 
A few more strokes met your dripping center before Satoru bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of his pearlescent seed painting your spasming walls. He finally released his tight grip around your throat, your head dropping immediately as indignity plagued your trembling frame. He pulled out, spreading your cheeks as he leaned down, an animalistic growl pulling from his chest as he watched his cum dribble out of your pussy. 
Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your lower back as you worked to regain your breath. “You’re mine,” he whispered. He unlatched the restraints from around your wrists, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the purple bruises that marked your skin. He locked eyes with your boyfriend, a deranged smile dancing across his face as he reached for the discarded projector remote. 
Another familiar voice flooded through the speaker, but this time it wasn’t Satoru’s. “...We broke up a few weeks ago. No, no. Really, it’s okay. She was kind of a bitch anyway.” Your pupils widened as you stared back at the man you had just been feeling sorry for minutes ago, rage mixing into the vast sea of emotions you were already feeling while you watched a grainy video of him snaking his arm around another woman’s waist. The two of them were laughing outside of his house before she leaned in to kiss him. 
“My poor sweet girl.” Satoru’s hand brushed lightly against your cheeks, catching tears that you didn’t even realize had begun spilling out. “I didn’t want you to have to find out this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”
There were a million other ways he could have broken the news to you, but that somehow wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand. 
“An eye for an eye, right?” The same haunting grin that you’d grown to know all too well spread across his face again, his blue eyes slicing into your ex-boyfriend’s. “I can’t believe that my entire world was in the hands of someone so undeserving…” he redirected his attention back to you and recaptured your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down to meet your gaze, unexpected softness replacing his usual sinister demeanor. “What do we do now, baby? It’s your call.”
Your pulse was ringing through your ears. “My call?” your voice was reduced to a whisper as you repeated it back to him. 
“I’m going to kill him either way, but I want you to tell me how.”
You pondered for a moment, still coming to terms with the chain of events that lead you to this one vengeful moment. 
Satoru stood, sauntering over to your boyfriend, stooping down to his level while his hands hovered over his gag. “When I take this off, I don’t want to hear anything other than remorse come from that pathetic fuckin’ mouth of yours.” Your boyfriend’s eyes shifted towards you, then back to Satoru, as he nodded pitifully. The tie was pulled from his mouth. His words were broken, barely audible. “I’m -” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I -”
Your stomach lurched as a sharp smack met his cheek, the painful sound resonating through the room. “You can do better than that. You got one more try,” Satoru spat, his eyes burning into your ex-lover’s bloodied face as he wrapped his fist around his throat, jostling his head around in a fit of rage. 
“Satoru,” you hardly recognized your tone let alone the thoughts that were racing through your head. The last few hours of your life had been a blur. The words you heard earlier made perfect sense now, “Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point.” You were officially at that point. “Satoru, don’t. Let’s just end this.”
It was the first time you’d ever seen the silver-haired man look surprised. His eyebrow raised, a mix of curiosity and amusement glinting in his eye. “Tell me how,” he repeated. “I need to hear you say it.” 
You were in a dream. Nothing more than a figment of Satoru’s imagination, just like he had said. It was the only thing that made sense to you because there was no way any of this was actually happening. 
“Rip his heart out,” your voice emotionless as you gazed toward the blue-eyed man. Satoru groaned deeply, his dick twitching at the sound of your pretty voice speaking his dark language. The same depraved grin pulled at the edge of his lips as he looked back at your ex. 
“Well,” he smirked, “looks like it’s decided then…” Adoration swam through his ocean eyes as he looked back at you, “I knew I picked the right one.”
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.
Click
The lock of your front door unbolted as your bodies pushed through the door frame, giggling as four glasses of wine danced through your systems. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he mumbled against your lips. His hands grasped yours as he led you toward the couch. 
You nestled into the warmth of his chest, his arm secured around you while you gazed around the room. Your head spun from the wine-induced nostalgia that this day had inevitably brought on. You were still in the same apartment, only it belonged to both of you now. A blend of sentimental gifts decorated your bookshelf that the two of you had collected over the last year. A camcorder, pressed red roses, framed vacation photos, and the first set of diamond earrings he’d bought you stowed away in a heart-shaped jewelry box. But out of all of the memories that tied you together, there was one that stood out the most. 
“Should we open it?” you whispered, drawing lazy circles into his shoulder.
You didn’t have to see his face to feel his smirk. He knew his girl and he knew her well. He stood wordlessly, retrieving a jar from the highest shelf. He presented it to you, a smug grin gracing his ethereal features, the same look that was permanently etched into your brain the night he got it for you. 
“Be my guest, princess.” You unscrewed the lid, peering into the jar as the strong scent of formaldehyde tickled your nose. You smiled longingly into the container, the overwhelming feeling of love reverberating through your chest. There was something so beautifully poetic about Satoru’s limerence, the lengths at which he went to steal the heart of another in order to fully possess yours. 
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author note: im so sorry for not posting my sweets,, i had the worst case of writer's block and i was actively trying to work on six different WIPs...i was losing my mind.
this was quite the heavy fic to write...i hope i didn't scare anyone away with it lol
alsoooo!! sending out the biggest thank you to @remlionheart for forcing me to finish this...my editor, my co-writer, the love of my life ♡ ⋆。˚
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