#idk its been so hard to write long fics for me lately!!

[crybaby-bkg]

Trainer Bakugou who you're a little terrified of the first day you're paired with him. when asking for a trainer at the gym, you had expected the friendly redhead who always looked so sweet and encouraging and cut as hell. you weren't expecting his grumpy looking blond counterpart, who was all glares and shouts for his clients to keep pushing themselves.

you were hesitant at first, before you quickly realized that it was all a ruse, for the most part. he pushed those who needed that extra encouragement, but was more lenient to people like you who simply wanted a professionals guidance. so, after a few weeks, you liked him for the most part, and his looks damn sure made it easier to cozy up to the big guy.

the only issue you've been having with Bakugou though are the...coregasms, as you've seen them been named on social media, that you keep experiencing. the first time, you weren't sure what it was, why your stomach and pelvis kept tightening up. you couldn't have...climaxed, or anything. you hadn't even been touched!

but, as the weeks go by, and the workouts get more strenuous, they've become harder and harder to subside and ignore, and so had Bakugou's commands to keep going when you suddenly stopped. you can only lie and say its cramps so many times before he realizes that something is up.

you're midway through a good morning, when that familiar feeling starts tightening in the pit of your gut. you clench your eyes shut, shaking your head a little, as if you could ward off the impending feeling. bakugou notices though, frowning at your almost pained expression in the mirror, walking up behind you to stop you as you pull yourself back up. his hands are on your waist, and as you come up, you feel his bulge glide over the curve of your ass, and something in you snaps.

you gasp, buckling over, one hand on your knee as the other reaches back for bakugou's hand to keep you up as your thighs shake. you can feel yourself spasming, clenching and unclenching around nothing, secretly wishing you had something that could fill you up, something that you felt throb against you as bakugou leaned over your form.

"Another coregasm, huh?" he asks you lowly, his lips brushing your ear as you bite your bottom lip to hold back your moan. your eyes buck open though, when his words sink in, head tipping back to look at him in the mirror, only to find his gaze already on you.

"You knew every time?" you ask quietly, panting now that its finally starting to pass over you. but bakugou doesn't let you up from this position, especially since the area you're in seems to be desolate for now.

"It's hard to ignore how pretty you look when you cum, sweetheart." Bakugou seals his words with a firm press to your ass, his cock rubbing the seam, and you can practically feel the heat and veins of it through your thin bottoms. you groan under your breath, getting lost in the feeling of him grinding against you, when he suddenly speaks again.

"You still feel it?" he asks, voice low as he looks at you through his lashes. you nod, biting at your bottom lip as you meet the steady rock of his hips, watching how he smiles before slotting his lips against your ear.

"Want me to help make it go away?" and he does, in the employee locker room after hours. he makes it go away, and rebuild, and go away again and again until you're hoarse and your legs are weaker than they typically are on leg day. bakugou helps the ache go away, but not for that sweet redheaded coworker of his, whose fists have fucked his cock the entire time of watching bakugou rail you over the locker room bench again and again.

#remember when I said in my lion bkg tags that I would write that long fic #sorry but I lied 😔 #idk its been so hard to write long fics for me lately!! #I thought it would be better since the brunt of everything in my life has passed #but the creative energy isn't all the way there yet #so I won't rush the process of it!!! when I let it come to me I typically bang out like #3-5 fics in two weeks lol so im waiting for that feeling #but anyway!!! I love trainer character aus they're so seggsy #also I had to throw in eiji sorry what else could I have done #NOT put him in this somehow???? I don't think so #okay bye im gonna write another Drabble ive had in my drafts for a few weeks now LOL #—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #bakugou treats! 🍬 #also has anyone ever actually experienced a coregasm before??? I saw it on insta and was amazed LOL #I need to start working on my core more to get one lol if im LUCKY

[ihatebnha]

it's tiring to want to read something about comfort/doméstica shit about any character and realize that the character in question is so sexualized that the only content with him is smut... And this isn't just about toji, in general

*yells into a microphone* THIS RIGHT HERE!!! THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and it's not even like... i really care all that much that the smut exists, it's just... so weird that like... literally almost nothing else does.

i'm not sure if it's because... 1. people just write smut for the notes, 2. people write smut bc they want to, 3. the tumblr tags are so difficult to sift through now, or 4. it's actually like that forreal... but it's still STRANGE nonetheless.

and i don't wanna comment on it too harshly because (interesting + comforting smut DOES exist, but also) if this is what seriously interests people, then good, right? but at the same time... more often than not i find myself tired of how much everything sounds so much alike... because it often doesn't even feel like i'm reading for a specific character in general anymore... NOR does it satisfy any cravings for comfort and sweetness, which is mostly just what i want (and i feel like is... the whole point)?

(it also doesn't even factor in all the instances where i (meaning people) don't want to read about sex at all... but still...)

AGAIN, this isn't to hate... it's just odd because i often wonder if... smut really is the only thing people truly want to see? with such little regard for comfort and/or characterization. idk... though i yam glad to hear that u feel the same as me, anon!!! i know i took it a lil out of hand but well put <333

#sorry if i did a bad job expressing this but i 100% agree #i dont read inserts specifically for the rough aggressive s*x #and im sure other ppl dont either.... #so why is it the only thing we see? #im sure it is an accident that the tags are only filled with really weird sh*t (bc i know purely sm*tty accounts that do a good job) #but still its really like... u got nothing but d*cks on the mind? literally??????????????? SO STRANGE #esp since a lot of it is really badly written i hate to say #like im not here to read 1 paragraph at a time of how toji choked me out #im here to think about interacting with him #idk #but absolutely not just toji. its all of jjk and surely other fandoms as well #gojo and getou and maybe yuji are the only ones who really get fully fleshed out fics #and only by specific people #i know i dont write long things but still #thats why i try so hard to make things interesting in other ways #idk ive just been so bored by sm*t lately #probably why i stopped writing it asdkfhaslkdjf #ANYWAY THATS JUST TO SAY I AGREE WITH U ANON SORRY FOR LOSING CONTROL #twas just on the mind when i couldnt find anything interesting for toji at all #ily #ask #anon #caitie chats #drama tw

[phantom-does-a-thing]

maybe its just imposter syndrome or whatever but I'm looking at my ao3 and im just. not feelin good about my writing rn.

#vent in the tags #it feels like I put myself on too high of a pedestal #and Ive been struggling with my writing lately. and #It feels like I can't live up to that pedestal #and I dont know what happened but now its so hard to write. its so difficult #and it just. idk. I don't know how I have this much writing #and ive built myself so high up with such high standards #I want to be able to get more fics out. to write more often. to post more often again #its so difficult and nothing is living up to my standards #I look at the last time I posted a fic and it just seems so long ago #god I dont even know what im feeling #it hurts. I dont want to look at my ao3. I don't want to touch any of this #I dont deserve any of the hype I don't really deserve the fact that im a slightly well known name #ive been working on a fic and it just feels so slow. like I cant get the words out #and it scares me and I get nervous and I think what if I've lost the ability #and im just so tired. and im so upset. and it hurts a lot to think about and I just #I dont understand any of this. #I wanted to type it out to maybe help myself understand whats going on #but I dont even know how to describe it I just feel awful #sorry idk ignore me im just being dramatic again or whatever #rambling #phever dreams with phantom

[sorcerersseestars]

LIMERENCE (part I)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

"I can't stop loving you, no matter how hard I try."

summary: Your long-time friend stirs feelings inside you that you never realized existed. Of course they bubble up in your chest while he’s in the midst of ignoring you and discovering his own possible romance. Your mutual friend thinks she has it all figured out—or does she?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

genre: hanahaki sickness au, angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: mentions of feeling sick, being stonewalled kinda, usage of the word (Y/N) bc Gojo is too fed up for nicknames (in reality idk what else to use 😶), Gojo being an ass (common theme in my fics oops)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: This is the first part to my hanahaki au! I’ve had this in my drafts for the longest time, but never committed to writing it all out until now. This first bit is kinda slow and maybe confusing BUT hopefully I’ll be able to clear it up next chapter. Not proof read very thoroughly; will probably regret later 🫥

part ii

“DON’T YOU THINK you could be a bit nicer to me?” You try, clasping your hands together as you look up at him with an odd smile—a cross between apologetic and playful. You’re joking, or at least half joking. It’s too difficult to be serious with Gojo; his habit of masking emotion with jest must be rubbing off on you.

Only one corner of his mouth raises. “Good one, (Y/N)-chan. As if I didn’t use to pay your bills.”

He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, and he walks away from you without a single glance. You frown and lightly jog a few steps to catch up to him.

“Ah, and I’m forever thankful for that!” You say, cringing at how overly peppy your tone is. “But that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Hmm,” Is all he says. His hands are in his pockets, but he doesn’t carry himself with as much ease as usual—his posture is closed off, angular and tense.

“What I meant was–” You prompt your own answer, as he doesn’t make any move to. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I know you’ve been really busy lately, so I don’t blame you, but I think we should go out and do something. Could help relieve some work stress too, don’t you think so?”

“Maybe,” He says, the word short yet effective in its delivery. The word was sharp in his mouth, clear annoyance shaping his tongue enough for the word to have a bite to it.

You wince. He never used to be like this. Gojo has been in a state of perpetual mirth—and one could argue levity—for the entirety of your friendship, never taking anything seriously and always looking for opportunities to poke fun at you to half-jokingly glorify himself. His expression has always been infectiously positive—never molded into anything hard or serious.

But, lately, everything you thought you knew about Gojo Satoru has faded away into your memories. He never seeks out your presence anymore, which is polar opposite from your high school days, when he would follow you around and pester you until you’d hang out with him. You actually used to get annoyed at this behavior, but you’re sorely missing it now.

You feel like you know nothing about him these days, only hearing tidbits here and there from your mutual friend Shoko. It stings to know that he obviously talks to her, and quite often at that, seeing she always has new details to spill every other day.

It doesn’t make sense to you: him and Shoko were never particularly close, definitely not nearly as close as you and Gojo were. In fact, she thought of him as particularly annoying in high school, and often swore to you that she would cut all contact with him once they graduated.

Back then, you had rolled your eyes at her antics, never believing that anybody could cut Gojo out of their life, seeing as he simply wouldn’t let them. But how else could you describe what he seems to be doing to you?

You bite your lip nervously. “Satoru? Is there something wrong?”

“Not particularly,” He says with a forced smile that’s screaming for you to shut up. You pretend like it’s not the most disingenuous smile you’ve ever seen smeared on his face.

“Are you sure?” You probe. “I mean…what’s been going on with you these days? We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you don’t seem yourself.”

“Are you sure?”

His lips are quirked up, as they perpetually are, but it’s different this time. It’s mocking. A mocking smirk that’s telling you to face reality. Do you really know him anymore?

You pause in your steps, studying his expression. You can’t see his eyes, but you wish you could. He’s hard to read with that blindfold concealing those powerful eyes of his, but it never used to be a problem. It hurts that you’re now struggling to gauge him when your emotions used to feel like one.

Evidently, you can’t answer his question. Not that he seems to care.

“I’ve really got to get going. Students to teach, curses to kill, all that,” He announces, tone low and apathetic. Bored. “See ya.”

Your breath flutters in your throat as you try to bid him goodbye. You choke on your words and only end up tentatively raising a hand. Before you can wave, his form disappears. A gust of wind greets you in lieu of a proper goodbye.

You stay where you are for a few shocked moments, not even registering the hot tears that leak from the eyes he avoided.

You wander aimlessly around campus for a while, the whole interaction replaying in your head several times over. His “Are you sure?” needles its way into your brain even when you push it away, the words hitting where it hurts every time.

Your feet find themselves taking you to an empty break room – ah, this is the one that has your favorite flavor of tea. You turn the kettle on, then eagerly dig through the tea stash. You file through the individual packets quickly and thoroughly, but to no avail. It’s gone.

With a sigh, you grab a random tea bag and throw it into your mug. Frustrated, you roughly begin pouring the now-boiled water into the mug, but it doesn’t seem that was a good idea. Your hand slips for just a split second, but a sizable splash of boiling water still manages to singe your non-dominant hand. A stream of expletives leaves your mouth, and you instantly cradle your hand to your heart.

More tears appear. At least you have an excuse this time—it fucking hurts.

You trudge to the clinic, feeling quite silly, but also seeking some much-needed relief. And you’re not exactly imagining painkillers or an ice pack—no, there’s something else. Someone else.

You hesitantly knock on the door. You feel stupid, but you really have to see her.

You crack a smile at the creak of the door. Your friend and co-worker Shoko strides out with an air of confidence you wish you held.

“What happened?” She asks calmly, eyes lazily taking in your form.

“Spilled some water from the kettle,” You say lamely. “It hurts.”

That doesn’t really constitute a visit to one of the only reverse-cursed technique users in the school, and you know it. So does she.

“Mmhm,” She raises her eyebrows. “Well, come on in.”

You shuffle in a little sheepishly, not able to meet Shoko’s eyes. Now that you’re here, you start to feel unsure about your own motive—do you really want to discuss this? Won’t it just be embarrassing more than anything else?

You stall a little in your steps as the negative thoughts invade your head. You’re startled to attention by a poke to your side—when you look up, Shoko’s playful smirk fills your vision.

“Come on over to the sink and we’ll put that under some cool running water,” She says, gesturing to your reddened arm.

You cock your head, looking between her and the sink skeptically, “No ice?”

She shakes her head, sticking her tongue out at you a bit, “Nope! Running water for burns.”

You hold up your hands in defeat, smiling, “Whatever Doctor Shoko says.”

“And I do,” She says cheekily. “So get under that water!”

“Aye-aye,” You say with a salute.

She groans, “Ugh. You guys are so annoyingly similar. Hang on a sec, I gotta grab something.”

She turns away before she can see the way your expression drops. The smile is stolen from your face, leaving behind saddened eyes and a slight frown. There’s only one possible person she could be talking about.

You sigh and turn on the faucet—your disheartened sigh morphs into one of great relief as the cold water soothes your burn.

“That better?” Shoko asks upon her return.

You nod, a small smile coming back, “Yeah, thanks Shoko.”

“Is there something else wrong?” She asks, then shakes her head. “No, scratch that. What’s actually wrong?”

You take a deep breath. How are you going to broach this subject? You wait several moments, pondering your exact next words.

“Do you think Gojo is okay?” You finally ask your long-time friend, words coming out almost cautiously.

She eyes you funnily, “Why are you asking me? As if he doesn’t chase you around the school to blab on about himself.”

You smile, but it’s tainted by bitterness.

“Shoko…Gojo hasn’t talked to me for two months,” You admit quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

She stops.

“What?”

You hate hearing the confusion in her voice. You hate the pity that soon fills her eyes.

“He seriously hasn’t,” You affirm, sighing. “I don’t know what I did, or if I did anything, or…or what. I just, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

You sigh. “Of course I have, but he didn’t seem to take my concerns seriously. Or consider them at all. It just seemed like he wanted me to shut up and leave him alone.”

Shoko looks at you curiously, lips quirking as if she has something to say, but no words come out. Is she holding something back?

You take a deep breath, willing the horrible emotion that squeezes your throat away. You look out the window to distract yourself, watching the branches of a sakura sapling swaying in the wind. It looks alone and lost, battered by the relentless wind.

“What’s he been like recently with you?” You finally ask, your gaze still on the tree.

“Normal,” Shoko says. “Annoying as ever. Noisy as ever.”

A cluster of pink petals is ripped from a branch, swirling hopelessly to the ground. When they settle on the ground, you look back to your friend.

“He’s really the same?” You ask weakly.

“Unfortunately,” She says wryly. “Besides, why do you care? We’ve both been trying to get him off our backs since waaay long ago. Sounds like a blessing in disguise.”

“Ah, that’s true,” You admit with a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the way your heart throbs painfully. “But he’s also our friend.”

“Since when? More like a thorn in my side. Maybe he finally got the message,” Shoko smirks. “You should give me instructions for that. I’d have a lot better quality of life, you know.”

You know she’s just joking around with you, but she’s truly just rubbing salt in your wound. Not very ethical for a doctor, even if unintentional.

“Yeah,” You laugh, but it’s an empty sound. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. Hopefully your next patient gives you an easier time.”

Shoko jokes, “Yeah, this has been my toughest job all week. You fiend.”

Your head is filled with so many questions, all of them growing louder as you walk away from your friend. Your friend who you thought would sympathize with you, but only ended up making you feel worse in the end is acting suspicious. It’s not like you’ve ever wanted to actually cut ties with Gojo, even when he used to pull pranks on you in high school. You craved for a strong friendship with him throughout all his shenanigans.

Why is Shoko acting like you hate Gojo, and what isn’t she telling you?

Before you reach the door, you decide you need to know. You stop abruptly in your tracks.

“Ieiri, you’re not telling me something,” You say softly, not looking back. “Why?”

Shoko sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You don’t miss anything, do you?”

You say nothing. The door in front of you is tempting—it’s your way out of knowing the truth. Do you really want to know?

You wait tensely for a few seconds, the silence causing nerves to bubble up in your stomach. But when Shoko begins to speak, they go don’t go away.

“He hasn’t really been acting strange around me, but he’s constantly on his phone. Like always. Whenever he comes to chat, he immediately tunes me out and starts texting or loudly takes a call,” She snorts, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “I thought he was just bored and trying to make me feel disrespected as a sort of cruel joke, but I think it’s something else. I think…I think Gojo is interested in someone.”

Your head whips around, disbelief clear in your features. Interested in someone?

“Maybe that’s why he’s been acting weird. I always thought he was crazy for you, so it didn’t cross my mind until now.”

“Crazy for me?” You immediately echo back, voice hollow and confused.

Shoko shakes her head at you, “C’mon, you can’t be that oblivious. He always followed you around like a lost puppy in high school. He never said anything to me about it, but I really thought he would confess any day for years.”

“He did that to everyone…” You shake your head. “You say yourself he bugged you so much.”

She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, it was different.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Your vision becomes foggy at the edges, reality fizzling out.

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” You ask. “It’s not like that matters.”

You try to appear uncaring, yet it was a fight to get those words out.

“You’re a sensitive person. ‘Didn’t know how you’d react since Gojo always seemed to chase after your attention, exclusively. But it’s not like it was the other way around—should have known it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not. Guess he’s just growing up.”

“Yeah,” You agree faintly, voice devoid of emotion. Reality is slipping through your numb fingers, the information turning your world into a nightmare. You should have opened the door and ran when you had the chance.

“It’s not,” You say with a saccharine smile, one so sickly sweet that Shoko gets chills. That’s not your usual smile—not one that Shoko has ever seen you wear. “Of course it’s not.”

When you turn on your heel and rush out of her infirmary, Shoko reaches out a hand and her lips part to call after you. It’s uncharacteristic for her—the cold doctor is rarely sentimental or emotionally affected, but she saw something ghastly in that smile of yours.

The slam of the door answers her call. The truth, now imparted, comes to bite her in the ass.

It’s been a few days. You’ve been moping around the school, around your students—trying to cope with the information that you don’t even know is true. You see him across campus sometimes; he’s so easily spotted with his translucent hair and tall frame. Every time, he’s facing away from you, and your eyes fall on the back of his head. Your chest always tightens and you end up turning away, too.

You have ignored the feelings stirring in your chest, not willing to admit something that clearly isn’t reciprocated. It has been working, you suppose, since you haven’t cracked under the mental weight of possibly being in lo—

No, you can’t even think that.

Everything has been as okay as it can. It’s not until you attempt to visit Shoko again to try sort out your feelings, however, that things take a turn for the worse.

Your hand is raised as you prepare to knock on the infirmary door, but you hesitate once you hear muffled voices.

“I don’t know…I didn’t expect it at all.”

That’s Gojo’s voice. That low but self-assured tone is undeniably his.

“Expect what?” Shoko asks, sounding bored.

His reply is so soft that it passes by as just a hiss of air, so quiet that you physically startle at Shoko’s loud reaction.

“No! What? I can’t believe that!” She shouts, laughter quickly following her exclamation.

You shouldn’t be listening—you hadn’t planned to eavesdrop on your two best friends, but for some reason your ear seeks out the wall, as if magnetized.

The next three words uttered still your heart.

“Utahime kissed me,” Gojo admits quietly.

You feel like you can’t breathe. Utahime, who has always despised Gojo even beyond Shoko’s extent. Utahime, who once cried into your chest after Gojo was harsh with her at an exchange event. Utahime, who always persisted that you and Gojo were into each other during high school.

Shoko’s unbelieving chuckle cuts through your thoughts.

Shoko laughs, “Oh, yeah, okay, as if I’d ever believe that.”

There’s silence. Your heart drops at the lack of response—no teasing refute, no playful faux playboy attitude.

Shoko absorbs his unusual silence, finally interpreting his words for what they are.

She gasps loudly, spluttering, “Oh my God, you’re being serious. What?! There’s no way…”

Gojo’s voice is even and deep. “I didn’t lie. She just did it out of nowhere. I didn’t even know how to react, to be honest.”

“So you just stood there?” Shoko snorts, trying to keep up her usual sarcastic persona. “God, you’re insufferable all the way around.”

“I kissed her back,” He breathes out, voice almost weak.

Another long moment of silence ensues. You hold your breath, terrified that your panicked pants will alert them of your presence.

Shoko recovers quickly this time.

“Still insufferable,” She sighs, and you can imagine her shaking her head. “So what now? You like her or something? This is so random.”

“I…I don’t know,” He admits quietly. “I never thought she’d do that, it took me by surprise. I…I think I liked it?”

Your heart shatters. You clutch a hand to your mouth, gagging yourself, forcing back the pained gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips.

“Oh, is that so?” Shoko says drily, but the usual edge to her voice is absent. You can only imagine her expression: contorted with pity and pain, desperately trying to maintain her poker face.

“Yeah,” Gojo reaffirms. “It was nice.”

There’s silence for a few seconds as Shoko takes it all in. Then, “Is she who you’ve always been calling and texting when I’m talking to you? You’re an ass for that, by the way.”

Gojo exhales out a sardonic sniff, “You’re spot on.”

Why are you still listening? You should leave. You shouldn’t be hearing this. Pain blooms in your chest, as if thorns became lodged between your ribs.

“What about (Y/N)?”

You freeze, eyes bulging out of your head.

Gojo sighs, sounding annoyed, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not dumb, Satoru. There was something going on during high school and frankly in the past few years as well. Are you going to deny it?”

He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shoko. It was never like that.”

You feel like you’re going to be sick. You shouldn’t—there’s no possible way you’re actually in love with Gojo Satoru, is there?

Fuck. The thought you’ve been trying to avoid all this time has finally firmly inserted itself into your head.

You take off swiftly and immediately, and your footfalls are as light as you can possibly manage. If either of them knew you were here, you wouldn’t be able to handle the shame.

Gojo and Shoko are none the wiser to the immoral action that took place just beyond the door—so when Shoko is ready to clock out and opens the door, the presence of a school ID on the ground is nearly missed. She feels something strange crunch underneath her foot and steps away and glances at the foreign object.

You left in such a hurry that your ID flopped out of your pocket. It lays on the ground, your smiling face staring up at Shoko, who looks on in horror. She immediately knows that you heard everything. She quickly steps back onto your ID, concealing your identity with her foot.

With all the sight of his six eyes, Gojo somehow completely missed Shoko’s strategic maneuvers to erase traces of your presence. He whistles nonchalantly, not having a care in the world, apparently.

In contrast, Shoko’s mind is racing. Her eyes roam around the courtyard, searching for your form. She feels rooted to the spot—will she reveal you if she steps away? She almost forgets that she’s not alone.

“You looking for someone?” Gojo asks.

Shoko stiffens, but forces herself to relax and appear nonchalant. “Ah, I was just wondering if…if (Y/N) would still be around.”

Gojo frowns. “Hm. Not sure. Don’t they usually go home right after they get off?”

“Lately, they’ve been staying back to do paperwork,” She sighs. “Masamichi has really giving them too many missions…How come you don’t know that?”

“Haven’t had the chance to catch up, I guess,” Gojo says evasively, then quickly changes the subject. “Besides, aren’t you the same way? You coming or not? I’ve got better things to do.”

He waves his cell phone around playfully, a smirk widening across his features.

Shoko rolls her eyes, “Go ahead. I’m just going to wait here a bit and see if I can text them and get them over here.”

She hesitates for a second before adding, “Actually, why don’t you wait a sec? We haven’t all seen each other in a bit.”

Gojo immediately stiffens. He scratches the back of his head and says, “Ah, I’m actually sort of on a time crunch. Maybe next time.”

What a lie. Shoko thinks, eyes narrowing subconsciously. What is he up to?

As he trails off into the distance, the gears in Shoko’s head continue to turn. He always, always teleports home after work finishes. So why is he slowly walking around campus, head turning this way and that way as if searching?

And you! Why were you there? Why were you so affected? What is going on in your head—or rather, your heart?

Something strange is going on with her two friends and Shoko is determined to find out what.

PART II

credit 🩷:

@kiyaedits - baby pink dividers, @sweetxmelody - cherry blossom divider

*note: taglist open!! comment to be tagged in part 2 :)

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo behavior #hurt/comfort #gojo hurt/comfort #angst #jjk #best buddie shoko #sad bc utahime and shoko aren’t together in this one 😤 #Gojo is a hater

[ncteez]

On Edge. (m.l)

Dating the strict, well-liked, and loving Doyoung came with its hurdles. Normally, the two of you could communicate and work through the downsides, but what if the newest downside of the relationship is learning that his little brother, Mark, has a bit of a thing for you?

ao3 | m.list | minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it. 

WORDCOUNT― 22.5k

PAIRING― mark lee x fem reader | doyoung  x fem reader

CONTENT― doyoung is 27, reader is 25, mark is 22. boyfriend doyoung, perverted/shy college boy mark, panty stealing, hidden intimacy, needy mark, dom-ish doyoung in smaller/less detailed smut scenes, reader is definitely a switch depending on who she is looking at, uh, brief mention of haechan raging at mark through a headset while he gets pleasured lmao

WARNINGS― infidelity that doesn’t get exposed, foot job but only bc i can’t figure out how to write a scene like this if it’s not her foot lmao

NOTE― not me back at it again with the cheating fics. Idk, i have a thing for mark cucking but also hidden things, and the idea of having both of them :D no, i do not condone cheating..  shoutout to my wife and other ultimate mark fucker @mrkis​ for discussing and brainstorming this shit with me, also for editing it and fixing all of my embarrassing typos.

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― infidelity,  rough doyoung, mark listens through the walls, tons of masturbation, he also steals panties and gets caught and embarrassed by reader, mentions of double penetration, lil under the table moment with mark, foot job but i swear im not into feet just hear me out ok? It’s brief i swear, sexting and phone sex, reach-around hand job, mark isn’t entirely subby when he finally gets his dick wet, penetration, pet names, g-spot stimulation, cream pie, unprotected sex, 

             The two years you’ve spent so far with Doyoung can arguably be considered the best of your life. He’s accommodating, listens to all of your problems, touches you in all of the right ways, and he’s even well-liked by your parents. You love your boyfriend enough to spend countless nights at his place just to get away from your own. It’s comfortable there, and feels like home, whereas your own apartment just feels empty without him. 

             The relationship felt very adult. He was the first boyfriend to stay with you longer than a couple of months, the first one to have his own house, job, money, and car. The two of you were equal, comfortable, and happily in love. Anyone could trust that both of you were running towards the path of marriage, and you’d agree with them if it wasn’t for the fact that your eye is dangerously landing on someone else lately.

             In your defense, your eyes didn’t linger before Mark, Doyoung’s younger brother, moved in. You had no interest in anyone aside from Doyoung. But– Mark is really something else. Cute, loud, obnoxious, and even charming at times. Still, you’ve caught him countless times staring for too long at your legs when you wear shorts around the house, lingering in the room when Doyoung has his lips on yours, and even stuttering through conversations with you after a wild night in the bedroom with his older brother. 

             It was cute at first, but as the months went on, you started staring at Mark a little more. You’d note that he gets flustered easily but can’t bring himself to leave any given situation that causes such a reaction. He gets hard sometimes too, you can see it, and occasionally you can hear him take care of it too. 

             The first night you heard it, Doyoung was sound asleep next to you after a long, drawn-out session of putting you in your place(sexually). You were comfortable beside him, listening to his soft snores and finally settling yourself in to close your eyes and sleep too.

             It was so silent, the entire house seemed as empty as it always had been outside of you and your boyfriend, except for the fact that Mark is in this house now too. You shoot an eye open at the sound of a muffled moan through the wall. You could tell he tried to prevent it, noticing that it appeared to be choked back almost as quickly as he let it fall from his lips.

             You lay there, first attempting to sleep but ultimately falling victim to the thoughts of what Mark must have been doing just a wall over. You felt guilty about the images, imagining how cute he must look tugging at himself and whimpering, frustrated at how he can’t make a sound. Mark knows how thin the walls are, you’re sure of it. Even you and Doyoung have tried to be quieter so Mark doesn’t have to hear it and feel uncomfortable. 

             The choked-back sounds he was letting out every few minutes only furthered your thoughts into the danger zone. You realized you wanted to watch him. You wanted to help him. As Mark hit his high, you hear his bed frame hit the wall one time, hard. The image of him lying on his back and fucking against his fist was long gone, now images of what position he could have been in for the bed to hit the wall fills your mind. What was he doing? 

 ~

 “Good morning sunshine!” You sing out to your boyfriend when he rounds the corner in a sleepy show of how much he doesn’t want to go to work today. He’s already dressed but you can see the darkened bags under his drooping, half-open eyes. 

             You don’t often make breakfast for him, not that he minds at all, you just felt guilty about listening in on Mark doing his thing again last night and it’s not something you’re proud of. So yeah, maybe Doyoung gets breakfast every time his little brother jerks off, what of it? 

 “Thanks, babe,” Doyoung smiles at you weakly, looking at the warm breakfast you place in front of him. “What if I just call in today?” He asks almost immediately after, tearing his eyes from the food and up to you who had begun to fix a part of his hair that he seemed to have missed. 

 “Up to you, I’ve gotta head back to my place soon though.” You look at him, hands on your hips now as you give him another once-over. “You look tired, maybe you should call out.” 

             Doyoung takes a moment to think. What would his excuse be to miss work on a Monday morning after already having two days off? He’s sick? That wouldn’t work, he ran into one of his bosses just the night before picking up some groceries. Car trouble? Also wouldn’t work, he used that excuse last time and he swore he took his car to the shop that very day to make sure it was in tip-top shape. Death in the family? That’s just asking for bad karma. 

 “Ugh,” Doyoung sighs, picking up his fork and picking around the plate. It looks delicious, honestly, but work is the last place he wants to go right now. “How are you so awake? We stayed up so late, are your legs even tired?”

             You stop mid-step towards the fridge to grab some juice and turn to look at him. 

 “Doyoung, my legs are killing me, and it’s your fault.” 

             He lets out a small laugh, giving himself a gold star for making you come just as hard as he always did. “Yeah, guess it is my fault, isn’t it?” He prods for more compliments.

 “That aside, are you going to call out or?” 

             He shakes his head, taking a bite and trying his best to enjoy this last hour of freedom before a nine-hour workday. 

 “No, I don’t think I’d have a good excuse today. You’re going home anyway too, I’d just be bored,”

 “Umm–” Mark’s voice chimes in as he scuffs into the kitchen with socked feet. He yawns wide and side-eyes you only for a moment before flopping down on the chair next to Doyoung with his legs spread wide. He looks like such a college boy. Looking equally as tired as your boyfriend and hair far messier, you note his side eye. “Are you saying I’m too boring to hang out with?”

             You let out a small chuckle at Mark’s words, and Doyoung just groans about it. 

 “You’re still just as annoying as you’ve always been. I’d rather be wasting away at a desk than sitting here listening to you talk about the exam you’re not studying for.”

 “I don’t have exams yet?” Mark protests, looking over Doyoungs food and swiping a piece from his plate. “The semester hasn’t even started.”

 “I’m preparing for what’s to come–” Doyoung drones on in a defeated voice. 

 “Fair,” Mark smiles and looks at you. “So, um, you’re going home today?”

 “Yep, gotta go to work too.” You sigh, pointing towards the stove. “Want some food?” 

             Mark shuffles to his feet to make himself a plate with a small “thank you”, and you can’t help but notice how disappointed he sounds that you’re going home today. 

 “You’re coming over on Wednesday though, right?” Doyoung asks, sipping the mug of coffee in front of him and finally allowing himself to enjoy the food you’ve graciously made this morning. If he’s gonna have to go to work, the least he can do is feel lucky that he’s not going in on an empty stomach. 

 “What’s on Wednesday again?” You smile towards your boyfriend’s now narrowing eyes. 

 “You know what Wednesday is.”

 “Hm, no, don’t think I do–” Smiling wider at the way his eyes narrow even further.

 “What’s Wednesday?” Mark asks, setting down his plate and taking a bite. 

 “Yeah, tell him what Wednesday is,” Doyoung says in an annoyed tone, one that you can tell is a joke. He always plays along with your antics.

 “I think it’s like, national fork day or something.”

             Doyoung brings a hand to his forehead with a laugh. “Fork day? That’s all you can come up with?!”

             Mark is just confused, what’s so fucking great about forks anyway?

 “I’m joking. It’s our two-year anniversary,”

             You hear a spoon clatter to the table and a small cough. 

 “Ugh-” Mark groans, picking the cutlery up off the table and wiping the crumbs clean. “That’s cool.”

             Mark can see the way Doyoung looks at him with his reaction, but it genuinely wasn’t intentional. He just happened to drop his spoon at the wrong time and choke on his food. It wasn’t meant to be as dramatic as it sounded. Also, maybe he’s a little shocked that Doyoung managed to have a girlfriend for this long with how much of a bore he can be at times. 

 Especially someone like you. Mark feels shy at the very idea of you, not just because he’s heard what you sound like when his brother touches you, but also because you’re just, like, really pretty and it makes his thoughts go in every direction when you speak to him. Even now, just over a small breakfast, he’s disappointed that you have a job too. He’s sad that he can’t spend time in this house with you alone even though he knows well enough that he probably wouldn’t have it in him to approach you. Or does he? Knowing that from time to time, like when he first moved in, there had been some days where you stayed over and did your work-from-home stuff. He wasn’t well acquainted with you back then enough to come out and sit with you, and he’s likely not acquainted enough now either, but that doesn’t change the fact that he kind of wants to be around you without his brother taking note of the small crush he kind of maybe developed by being around you.

 ~

             Today is expected to be more exciting than your last anniversary. Mostly because it’s marking a second year with Doyoung and solidifying the fact that the two of you have made it this far without any glaring issues that could threaten the relationship. At least, no issues that Doyoung is aware of. You think that these thoughts and images of Mark swimming in your head are a phase. There’s no way you’d ever actually go through with anything involving your boyfriend’s little brother. He’s just kind of cute to see all flustered, even cuter when he tries to hide how he’s feeling regarding you. 

 Mark isn’t  there when you walk through your boyfriend’s door. Unfortunately, neither is Doyoung. Grabbing your phone and checking the time you’re distracted by the glaring text message from your boyfriend that seemed to have been sent some ten minutes ago as you got in your car for the drive over. A little wave of disappointment hits you as you stand alone in the darkened kitchen. 

             Doie: hey i’m gonna be a little late. Boss got a last minute client today like an hour before closing time so i’m gonna be here at least until 8:30, is that okay?

             The disappointment fades away with how good he is at communicating with you. Your last boyfriend who you only dated for like two months always bailed without notice on dates, ghosting you for a full day or two before explaining himself with one of the same excuses Doyoung probably uses to get out of work. You know his job is important to him, and you know the anniversary is important to him. His priority doesn’t always have to be you.

             You: Yeah that’s fine. What am i supposed to do for three hours though?I’m already at your place (sparkly eye emoji)

             Doyoung was great at texting you back too.

             Doie: you could get yourself ready for me to come home ;) 

            You: for three hours?

            Doie: yes???? or you can just go bug mark lol

             The silence in the house tells you that Mark isn’t home.

             You: he’s not here, i figured he went out to give us some privacy?

             Doyoung doesn’t respond for a few minutes, probably because he’s doing something important with his work. By the time you’ve slipped off your shoes and laid against the couch, you get the little ping on your phone.

             Doie: Oh, right, he was gonna go meet with some girl he was talking to. I figured he’d chicken out and not go lol, maybe we really will have the house to ourselves tonight ;)

             Something inside of you twisted at his message. On one hand, you’re happy that you might get the entire house with your beloved boyfriend tonight, on the other hand, you kind of don’t like the thought of Mark losing the ability to get all flustered around you if he’s got someone else doing it for him. Are you jealous? No, but you’re a little selfish. You always liked when men chased you even if you knew it would lead nowhere, even if they knew it would lead to nowhere. It was harmless fun, but now all of your fun is gonna be ruined. The last thing you want to be hearing is Mark railing some girl in his room while you’re trying to sleep. 

             You: oh yeah? lets hope we don’t have to be quiet tonight then, i have //plans//

            Doie: plans? 

            You: better do well on your work so you can come home and see <3

             With that, you set your phone down and reach for the remote. Mark is out with a girl right now? Part of you wonders how he’s navigating it, or if the girl is actually into him. The images in your head are amusing until you realize that you’re not imagining him stumbling over himself with some faceless girl. You’re imagining yourself as the girl he’s out with.

             Still, even on your anniversary, you’re bored and you’ve got some hours to kill. You sort through all sorts of images in your head. From what Mark would do if you were to reject him to what he would do if you didn’t reject him. How he would act if you were leaning in to kiss him, or how he would react if you kissed his neck, started touching his stomach, trailing your hands down– straight until you’re assuming that Mark must be getting a hand job somewhere right now. A little disappointed that it’s not you, you laugh at yourself. 

             Silly thoughts like these are normal, and you’re sure Doyoung has them too. Despite the fact that you’d be weirded out if it were about your little sister if you had one. You’re not hurting anyone passing the time and thinking about how things would go with Mark. Surely not. Doyoung was never shy toward you. Always shooting his shot in charming and convincing ways that have managed to lead to a two-year relationship that’s still going strong. He didn’t leave as much to the imagination at the beginning of your relationship, nor does he now. You can’t even imagine Doyoung being insecure or lacking confidence in anything he does, but then there’s Mark. The little brother appears to live in the shadow of Doyoung. From Mark attending college for the same thing to wanting the same woman that Doyoung is in love with. 

             Are you too full of yourself for chuckling about that? Laughing at the fact that he’s so entirely different from your boyfriend but that’s the exact reason you find yourself fantasizing about the ‘what if’s’ with him? Now the thought of what Mark would do if he knew you were thinking about him this way infiltrates your mind. Would he panic? Surely. Would he blush? Oh yeah, for sure. Would he try to play it off as a joke until realizing you’re serious, visibly shivering as you watch him imagine? Oh– would he tell Doyoung? Would he get cocky? So many thoughts that are both scary, cute, and…hot. 

             You look at the clock on your phone again and realize how slowly the time is passing. Mark’s out getting tugged at by some girl, Doyoung is at work being an obedient employee, and what are you doing? Sitting on the couch in a daze as if you’ve just smoked the biggest blunt full of the most high-quality weed.

             Glancing around a bit, you shake your head at a specific thought. Mark’s room.

 ~

             Against your better judgment and several hours on hand to spend, you find yourself in Mark’s room. You didn’t know why your legs carried you here, but then again you kind of did. Curiosity. You didn’t really plan on snooping or anything, you just kind of wanted to see how he lives when he’s by himself. You wanted to see if he made his bed or folded his clothes, and when you note that the loser definitely does not do either of those things, a flash of pastel blue is catching your attention.

             In the mess of Mark’s room, monochrome colors of black and grey come through the most. From sweatpants to band t-shirts, you weren’t expecting to see a glimmer of pastel silk peeking from under one of his pillows. 

             It wouldn’t have caught your attention if it wasn’t for the fact that you recognize the color and even remember the day you purchased them. Those are your panties stuffed under Mark’s pillow. 

             You find yourself smirking in an evil kind of way as you make your way toward the dainty fabric and pull it from the pillow. You can confirm it now, they’re yours, and you remember wearing them just the past weekend you were over. It was normal for you to leave some of your laundry at Doyoung’s place after staying the weekend, it’s not like you weren’t here multiple times a week or anything. 

             Mark must have taken them from the laundry basket in the bathroom. The thought of him that morning when you made breakfast, acting as casual and normal as ever. The harsher thought of how you listened to him again after Doyoung had fallen asleep the night before, furiously reaching his climax. 

             You spread the fabric against your fingers and laugh at the stain on them. This must have been what he was using that night, thinking of you, surely, right? God, Doyoung would kill him if he found out.

             And just as you go to look around to see if he’s stolen more of your intimate wares, you hear the front door open, and you panic, shoving the panties into your back pocket and rushing out of his room to the bathroom just across the hallway.

             In your slight panic, you manage to stand by the bathroom door and listen to the footsteps coming down the hallway. It’s definitely Mark because Doyoung would have called you to let you know he was coming home. Checking the clock again, it’s barely six and you’ve now got two or so hours pretending that you didn’t just find your panties in Mark’s room. Or, maybe, you don’t have to pretend. Maybe you can just fluster and embarrass him more now. 

             You reach over and flush the toilet and then step to the sink to actually wash your hands because you definitely were just handling cum-stained panties, and then you step out of the bathroom acting surprised that he’s here.

 “Oh!” You exclaim, stepping out of the bathroom and looking directly at Mark through his bedroom door as he’s in the middle of throwing himself against the bed in frustration. “Hey, didn’t think you’d be here today?”

             Mark nearly jumps out of his skin despite knowing someone was in the bathroom. He wasn’t expecting to be addressed by you or Doyoung today.

 “Yeah, me neither.” He groans, throwing his hand over his face. “You scared the fuck outta me–”

 “Aw, why so nervous?” You ask, taking a step forward and leaning against the doorframe to his room, crossing your arms. “Doyoung said you were on a date or something,”

             Mark groans again, lifting his back from the mattress to sit up and shaking his head in defeat. The fact that you’re talking to him right now only makes him feel worse. He’s embarrassed enough by the happenings of the past hour or so, now he has to sit here and answer your questions about it?

 “Yeah, I was supposed to be but she ended up just using me as a ploy.” 

             You only chuckle because of course that’s the type of shit that’ll happen to him, but also like, you’re kind of glad the date wasn’t a date, even if he didn’t know it.

 “A ploy?”

 “Turns out, she was just trying to make some guy jealous. He literally served us. ”

 “Oh yeah? Then what happened?” You question, prying now. 

 “When he was coming up to the table, she told me to kiss her so I did. Then as soon as he walked away, she was back on her phone and texting. She accidentally texted me I guess, saying that ‘the plan is working, he’s definitely jealous’.” Mark mocks the text message in a whiny voice.

             You laugh a little louder this time, eyes darting to the pillow he had your panties tucked under.

 “Why are you laughing? I am miserable.” Mark is casual when he talks about it, but you note that he lets out a small chuckle too. “Why would someone even use me to make a guy jealous?”

             You freeze for a second. Here’s your first opening.

 “Because you’re cute?”

             Mark freezes now too, glancing away from you with what you think is that shyness you’d seen so much before. It was definitely shyness. Out of everything that’s just happened, at least you think he’s cute, but it’s not like he can have you or actually use your compliment as an ego boost considering you’re dating his big brother.

 “Anyway,” You offer an out, noting his avoidance a little more now that you know what he’s been doing in his free time with your personal items. “Doyoung will be home later for our anniversary, sorry for what you’re gonna hear later–” 

             Second opening.

 “I know it’s weird to ask but I left a cute pair of panties last time I was here. They’re his favorite. I can’t find them.”

             Mark stands to his feet quickly and casually throws his jacket over the pillow you had pulled them from earlier. Upon the very mention of your panties, he feels caught like he’s got three shining spotlights directed at him to tell you he stole them. 

 “I don’t know, what color were they?” He awkwardly asks, trying to avoid looking at you, not even questioning that you’re asking him when you’ve never so much as asked what he does in his free time. He can’t even tell that he’s telling on himself right now. 

 “Light blue, silk.” You deadpan, looking at him.

 “Oh, I might have seen them in the laundry. I’ll go look.”

             Before you can even protest, Mark is shuffling past you and rushing towards the laundry room. You follow behind him casually, not in the slightest bit of a hurry.

 “I already checked in here. The dirty laundry too.”

 “Did you check Doyoung’s drawers? He did laundry yesterday, they’re probably in there.” 

             Mark is talking so fast that it’s almost sad. Still, it’s fun.

 “Smart boy.” You compliment with a finger in the air, walking towards Doyoung’s room just to see what Mark would do next when you tell him they’re not there. 

             You lazily look through all of your panties stuffed into Doyoung’s drawers and head back out to Mark’s room. Quietly, you peek around the door and only laugh at him when you see his pillow is overturned and he’s digging through a clothes pile in the corner of his room on the floor. The fact that he didn’t even close his door is hilarious, but you imagine it was an afterthought considering time was against him.

 “Did you find them?” You ask, watching him nervously stop searching and stay in place on the floor facing away from you. You could practically tell the cold sweat that hit him.

 “N-no.” He says quickly. “Did you?” 

 “Yep.” You say, pulling the panties out of your pocket.

             Mark relaxes, choosing to believe that somehow, the panties he had tucked under his pillow managed to walk themselves to the laundry room, step into the washer, then the dryer, and then place themselves neatly into Doyoung’s drawer. Never will he let himself think that you found them, or even worse, Doyoung.

             When his shoulders relax and he turns to look at you, you see him stiffen up just as much as before when you swing the panties around your finger, stopping to present them in a way that shows the massive cum stain. 

 “Guess Doyoung needs to find a new favorite, huh?” You joke, tossing them onto Mark’s bed and walking away. 

             As you walk down the hallway with a smile on your face you can hear Mark’s frantic footsteps rush up behind you. 

 “Wait! It’s not–” He tries to explain the situation away. “It’s not what it looks like!”

 “My panties under your pillow aren't what it looks like?” You turn to face him at the end of the hallway, and with the way he was quickly following you, he runs directly into you and has to stumble back from the close proximity of you in front of him. He’s never even touched you before. Never hugged you, prodded you, or even looked at you for too long when your eyes were already on him. 

 “No,” He goes to say, but you interrupt him. 

 “Mark, you’re lucky it was me who found them and not your brother.” 

 “I know,” Mark stutters out, looking to the floor. “But really, I didn’t mean to-”

 “If you didn’t mean for me to find them, you should have stuffed them further back. They were hanging out for anyone to see, Mark.”

             He stops for a moment. You’re telling him how he should have hidden them?

 “Wait–” 

             Only now does Mark realize your comment of Doyoung needing to find a new favorite pair of underwear before you toss them back on his bed. He’s gotta be thinking too positively to imagine you’re giving him the panties and offering tips on how to keep them from Doyoung, right? Like you only gave them back because you’re disgusted by him, right? 

 “Really, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I took them.”

             And admittance. You feel like you’ve won the game, and you’re definitely in the position to ask more questions. 

 “Why did you take them in the first place?” You ask, taking a step towards him to make him feel overwhelmed. 

             Mark takes another step back, feeling frozen when his eyes glance up at yours. He can’t pull his eyes away this time with the way you’re looking at him. There’s a smirk against your lips and he can’t sense a single bit of anger. Cautiously, he tries to make another excuse. 

 “I don’t know why.” He deadpans, staring down at you as you look at him and take another step forward. 

 “I think we both know why you stole them.” You smile wider, lifting slightly to where you’re just inches from his face. “Did you think of me?”

 “Yeah,” He sighs out, somewhat lost in your gaze as if he has managed to become hypnotized by the way you’re speaking with him. Then he shakes himself out of it, taking a step back with a muttered out string of “I mean, no!” 

                        You close in against him just as you did before, not allowing him to escape the hold you have on him. You’re just as close as you were before he stepped back, and you continue. 

 “You did? Do you listen in on what Doyoung does to me too?”

             Mark takes another step back, this time knowing full well that you’ll just follow him again. And you do, practically walking him back through the hallway and against the wall after passing his room. 

 “I mean,” He admits. “Sometimes.” 

             You smile as he tries to back himself up further against the wall. 

 “Why not all the time?” You follow up, watching the way his lip quivers a bit from the nervousness within him. Unbearably cute is what Mark is at this moment, trapped and caught. 

 “You guys get too quiet, I guess?” He answers as if it’s his own question, wondering if it’s what you want to hear. His belly is doing flips though, admitting these things to you and feeling as if you’ll make fun of him, mock him, tell on him.

 “You’re too quiet sometimes too.” You smile before backing away and turning to walk back toward the end of the hallway. 

             Mark hangs his head wondering what the fuck just happened and if you were actually implying certain things toward him. He can barely bring himself to care that you hear him masturbate. He tries to be quiet, honestly, he does. But it’s hard sometimes when he’s rubbing his cock against the silk of the panties you just gave back to him, even harder when he’s hearing you through the walls and he imagines if you’d make the same sounds for him. 

             Pulled from his thoughts, he hears you turn the volume up on the tv before shouting at him.

 “Oh, and Mark?” You say, waiting for him to respond quietly from out of view.

 “Yeah?” He responds as he makes his way back to his room. 

 “I’ll make sure to be louder tonight.” 

             Mark closes his bedroom door feeling like his body is on fire and like his mind is spiraling into a place where it shouldn’t be. 

 ~

             When Doyoung got home, Mark made it his mission to not step foot out of his bedroom until the two of you were passed out. Thankfully, he had taken a quick bathroom break while also trying to avoid letting you hear that he left his room right before Doyoung came back.

             Mark almost feels like prey right now, but he’s entirely too confused about the entire situation. He tried to be a good person and not fantasize about his brother’s girlfriend by making a tinder profile, but even now as he scrolls through all of the pretty faces, he knows that none of them would just let him steal their panties like you did. Not that it’s a hobby of his or anything, he saw your panties and he took the chance to give him a better orgasm next time around. Now he’s kind of obsessed with the idea though.

             He had already placed the panties back under his pillow and stuffed them further back by now, and hearing you and Doyoung in the living room doing couple-things didn’t really help the confusion in his head. If you’re in there all lovey-dovey with his brother, why did you get up so close to him earlier? Why did you offer to be louder for him? Why did you do any of what you did?

             It felt wrong that everything just made him want you more. Before, he was just being a horny guy, but now he’s like, maybe only horny for you.

             Maybe it’s just a phase, surely it’ll pass. He loves his brother.. Then he finds himself questioning if that’s the truth as the night goes on. 

             Jealousy is a hateful demon. When he hears the shuffling into Doyoung’s room and the giggles coming from both of you, Mark almost wants to hit someone. Why can’t he have that? Why does Doyoung always get to experience the good things in life?

             Not only was Mark used by some pretty girl today, he is now being shown yet again what he can’t have and will probably never have. The jealousy is only worse now, as he faceplants into his pillow and considers moving back in with his parents so that way he can stop wanting what his brother has. 

             The consideration is furthered when he grows frustrated at the sounds of you through the wall. He can even hear Doyoung shush you a few times. Against Mark’s will, his cock starts to grow against the mattress and his thigh, fingers now tucking further under the pillow to find those silk panties that caused his ultimate demise today.

             When he runs his fingers along the fabric, still tucked beneath the pillow, he whines to himself at how pathetic it is for him to keep doing this. Only when he realizes that you’re over there being fucked and being loud specifically for him to hear does he pull them out and roll over onto his back.

             All confusion and worry is left behind now as he replaces those anxieties with the idea of you grinding against him while wearing these panties. He thinks about how you like it, how you move your body, what you’d do with your hands. 

             His cock twitches to be free just a few moments later and he doesn’t think twice about lowering his sweatpants and staring down at himself. He sighs in defeat, noting how much harder he is now compared to the nights before when he weakly worked himself up to the faint sounds of you

             From across the wall though, you’re enjoying yourself far too much. Mark kind of falls into the back of your guilty mind as your boyfriend loves on you. Doyoung came home excited, a hand was on you the entire time from the moment he walked through the door until now. Both hands are on you now as he praises you and pries your legs open. Usually, Doyoung was rougher. He’d do things that drive you insane, edge you, and deny you pleasure over and over again until he felt it was time to let you let go. The added attempts to be silent only made it more fun for your boyfriend, gagging you with his cock, fingers, or even your own panties. Tonight was a little different considering it marks the two-year anniversary of his relationship with you.

             The plan you had for Doyoung tonight was for him to use a new toy on you that you’d bought in secret. He always wanted to try double penetration with you but was never willing to share you, and you don’t mind. You still wanted to fulfill one of his fantasies though, and that’s what the intention was. To your surprise though, Doyoung leaves the toy still in its package on the table and has been eating you out for a solid twenty minutes already.

             He’s focusing on you entirely at this moment and it’s got your head spinning with the way his wet tongue flicks your clit while his lips envelop the entire bud. He’s so good at it, and usually only does this when you’ve been extra good for him like if you willingly choke on his entire length or you let him overstimulate you to the point that getting head from him is painful. 

             His head is between your legs lapping away and all you can do is groan out for him, enjoying the way he’s being gentle and pointed with his tongue. His hands go from your legs to keep them from crushing his head to reaching up to massage your tits. He doesn’t even try to silence you, and you’re thankful to keep your promise to Mark despite not actually trying to right now. And when Doyoung pulls his head back for a breath, he looks up at you and smiles in such a genuine way that it has your heart crashing with the amount of love you have for him. 

             Doyoung loses patience with giving you head after the thirty-minute mark. He wanted to make you come this way and make it last as long as possible, but now he’s feeling neglected and the image of you with that toy you got for him to use is burning images in his mind the more he hears you moan for him. 

 “Changed my mind,” Doyoung speaks out as he pulls back from your core and abandons your clit entirely. He hears you whimper at the loss of pressure and always loved the way you sounded when you did it. He finds himself reaching for the toy a little quicker than he already was.

 “Play with yourself while I get this ready,” He smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss to the forehead before fumbling with the box. 

 ~

             The fact that Mark could hear his brother tell you to play with yourself made him feel insane. Only because of the way you started moaning again and gave him more to think about. The thought of walking in on you one day with your fingers inside of yourself, not quite reaching where you want them to, asking him to take over for you.

             Mark almost wants to put his ear to the wall and takes a moment to ask himself why he wouldn’t do that anyway. He wants to hear you.

             Cock still in hand and tangled against your panties, he shuffles to his feet and presses his ear against the wall. You sound much more clear now, He chokes back his own moan, knowing you’d probably hear it more clearly too considering how loud he is. Knowing you could hear him means Doyoung would also hear him, so he tries his best to hold it back as he starts thrusting himself against the silk in his hand.

             He did well until he heard a choked-out whimper, a slap, and some crude words coming from his brother’s lips. On any other day of listening in, his hard-on would instantly go down hearing his brother but what he says to you through these thin as fuck walls has Mark choking back his own whimper.

 “You like being stuffed with two?” Mark heard at first, followed by another whimper from you. “You’re so wet, it slid right in beside me–”

             Mark can’t even imagine what’s being done to you right now but he can tell you’re loving it in the way your whimpers turn to full-fledged moans that he’s never heard before. 

 “Oh, fuck–” Mark groans out towards himself, looking down at his painfully hard cock against your panties. He starts to move his hand this time, faster than what his hips were doing. Only part of him is trying to match the sounds of skin slapping skin, moving his hand much faster than what he’s hearing happen to you. He’s sure you’d moan like that for him too. Wouldn’t even need two to make you be so loud, surely. 

             And then he’s starting to shake, rolling his head a bit to where his forehead is against the wall. Shamelessly, he whispers his own words to you as he begins to release against your panties. Words of, ‘yeah, you like that?’ and “Better than him, right?” 

             When Mark backs away from the wall, allowing the muffled sound of your loud moaning to be further and further from his ear, he collapses on his bed in a deep breath and then trails his eyes back over towards the wall. You’re right there. You know exactly what he was doing in here but now he can’t tell if you were actually being loud because you told him you would, or if it’s because Doyoung really is that good. 

             The jealousy hits again. It isn’t fair.

 ~

                        It’s been days since your anniversary and now that work is finished, you get to head back over for your regular weekend with Doyoung. Except you wonder how awkward it’s going to be. The soreness between your legs has gotten better but the guilt of how Mark avoided you the next morning got worse. 

             You think you should leave it be, you should just let him have those panties and pretend it never happened, pretend you never flirted with him, and pretend you didn’t tell him that you listen to him masturbate too. You went too far on your fucking anniversary then proceeded to fall even more in love with Doyoung.

             Thankfully, you didn’t go far enough to where it couldn’t be salvaged, so when you leave today, you have the promise in your head that you will leave it alone. You will leave Mark alone and go back to what you were with Doyoung before you ever fantasized about his little brother.

             Except that doesn’t happen because the moment you walk in and see Mark lounging by himself on the couch, shirtless, you find yourself avoiding him more than he was avoiding you. Though he immediately got up with a small apology and rushed towards his room, you had to stop yourself from turning around and going straight back home. Doyoung is there though, back turned towards you as he stirs something in a bowl. 

 “Hey, can you come to help me?” He asks, glancing at you from over his shoulder and showing the smallest glimpse of something smeared against his cheek. 

             Your heart warms at how domestic he looks right now, kicking your shoes off and heading towards him with your weekend bag. 

 “I'll be back in a minute, let me put my bag in your room.” You say, coming up behind him and planting a kiss on his shoulder. He nods to you before you walk out and towards his room.

             Mark’s door is closed and you’re thankful for it as the image of his stupidly attractive shirtless body appears in your mind again. It’s stupid, honestly, you have a whole Doyoung in the kitchen waiting for you, who will probably make you come a minimum of three times tonight, and you’re panic-walking past his little brother’s bedroom because you’re incredibly fucking attracted to him. 

             Stupid. 

 ~

             The self-control you once had is no longer present in your head. The plan to leave it be is less and less attractive in your brain the more you take in the image of Mark in front of you at the table texting away on his phone. You watch him shamelessly as Doyoung goes back and forth in the kitchen. You’re almost completely skewed from his view as you sit here across from Mark. He’s wearing a shirt now, and only glancing at you from time to time but still not saying anything.

             What happened to you avoiding him? No, what happened to him avoiding you? 

             From under the table, you gently kick against his leg to get his attention and his eyes snap up toward you. You look down though, ignoring him instead. But your leg stays there, occasionally kicking against him just to see how long it takes for him to stop reacting to it. 

             Scrolling through your own phone now, you’re swiping through videos, listening to Doyoung clattering through the cupboards, and feeling incredibly warm sitting in front of Mark. You don’t know what’s gotten into you when it comes to him, honestly. (It’s not like you knew how hard he came during your anniversary celebration.) 

             Finally, you slowly trail your eyes back up to his face and note that he does the same, at the exact same time. The two of you share a moment of silence looking at each other. You could almost feel his eyes pull you in without intent. It feels dangerous just to look at him, seeing him in a newer light than what you’d seen in him when it was just amusement on your end. You wonder if he can tell. Probably not.

             He doesn’t look away from you, and you’re not sure why. He just stays still, silent, blinking back at you. Maybe he’s being pulled in too, like a secret agreement communicated just through eye contact. The electricity in the space between the two of you is nothing short of dangerous. Your body almost acts on its own when you raise your lips into a half smile at him and plant your foot on the chair between his legs.

             Still keeping eye contact, you watch him jump at the action but he doesn’t move or push your foot away. Instead, he’s breaking eye contact and looking down, staring down, really, at how your socked foot is planted directly between his legs.

             He doesn’t move, trailing his eyes back to you now with a curious look. You continue, pressing your foot forward just slightly. Mark jumps again and shoots his eyes to the opening of the kitchen. Doyoung is still facing away, stirring something in a pot on the stove. 

             Mark doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, or why he does it, but it’s like his hips press forward out of need rather than want. He knows it’s wrong to have you touching him in any way, even if it’s just your foot. 

             You smile wider, watching the way his face tries to stay casual as he gently scoots forward and presses himself further against your foot. Only now, satisfied, do you look back down to your phone as if you didn’t just do what you did, and like you’re not keeping your foot in place for Mark to grind against. 

             The fact that he’s actually doing that alone is enough for you to feel warm on the inside. All you were going to do was experimentally cross a line to see what would happen. This was a much better outcome than him rushing out of the room in a panic. 

             Offering more pressure against his weak grinds, you can tell he’s looking at you in disbelief and shifting his eyes to keep checking for Doyoung. Mostly because he grinds his hips forward a little harder when he notes that Doyoung doesn’t see anything, and when he moves more weakly, you assume your boyfriend must be moving around and able to easily see Mark fall apart. Alerting him that something is happening, even if he can’t see under the table due to the clean cloth he has draped over the table. 

             You smirk as you scroll to watch another video, feeling his cock harden against your foot, and god, he’s really that desperate? You hate how much you like it, and hate even more that you’re so fucking attracted to him doing this right now. 

             When you glance up, you note that Mark is really trying to concentrate on looking normal, but you can see him so clearly shifting his lower half and you speak up. 

 “Mark, have you seen this meme?” You fake laugh out loud, mostly to stop him from getting too into it and blowing the cover. 

             He jerks his hips back with an annoyed groan, realizes where he is and what’s between his legs, and then jumps into an act.

 “N-no, I don’t think so,” He says nervously, leaning forward to see your phone. 

             You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer over the table, lifting him from his seat and whispering. 

 “You need to stop being obvious–” You whisper before releasing him and turning your phone to show him the video.

             Mark lets out a fake laugh at the video  before seating himself and looking dead into your eyes. Then he feels you adjust your foot again, this time further into his chair and seated directly against his painfully hard erection.

             He doesn’t think he can just sit here and let this go on for too long but he doesn’t want you to stop either. It’s the first time you’ve actually come onto him and Doyoung is right fucking there. Mark decides to take what he can get, even if it’s just out of pity from you. 

             You’re shocked when you feel his hand grab your foot and hold it in place before very harshly  grinding against it. Watching him from across the table, he’s somehow manages to make it not look obvious that he’s practically fucking one part of you, still, you find yourself falling apart at the way he parts his lips and bites the bottom one harshly. He’s focused solely on his phone, brows furrowed, but you can tell his eyes are vacant and he’s only focusing on how he’s feeling between his legs. 

             Just as quickly as he started, you feel him push your foot away and he’s scooting back in his chair. 

 “I left something in my room. I’ll be back.” Mark says sheepishly, looking to the floor and rushing into the hallway.

             You watch him rush out of the room confused, so you look behind you hoping Doyoung didn’t like, make eye contact with him or something. It doesn’t appear he did though, because you see him waist-deep bent over in the fridge looking for something. 

             Mark needed to like, not come in his pants from that. He doesn’t fucking like feet, but he likes you. You offered pressure and he fucking took it. He needed to finish himself off and not have to sit there in cum-soiled pants pretending like it didn’t just happen. Naturally, he came to his room to finish himself off out of frustration. Thankfully he’s close enough to reach climax within two to three strokes, right there leaning against his door. 

             Embarrassed by the small sob he let out during his orgasm, he’s quick to rush to the bathroom and clean up before grabbing a hoodie from his room and throwing it on over the t-shirt, mostly so it does look like he came in here to grab something.

             Not even five minutes pass before he’s sitting in front of you again. Mark feels helpless in the way he can no longer bring himself to avoid looking at you, all the way up until Doyoung peeks into the room and announces that he thinks he’s perfected the soup recipe, and is ready for you guys to come try it. 

             You, on the other hand, didn’t look at Mark after he came back. Not much, anyway. It’s not that you didn’t want to, it’s mostly just that you’re coming to terms with the fact that you just crossed a line and you’re not sorry about it. Even after Doyoung places a spoon at your lips and the soup was definitely the most delicious he’s ever made, and even after he’s got his arm around you at the table, across from his little brother who just eye fucked you while grinding against your foot. 

 ~

             The events of yesterday stayed fresh on your mind even as Doyoung lays next to you half-awake and scratching against his arm before cuddling in closer to you. He was so warm, and all you can do is wonder why you're risking this comfort to have fun with his little brother. You’ve already crossed a line and gone too far. You did exactly what you said you weren’t going to do and exactly what you never thought you could do. You’re probably not going to be able to stop even if you wanted to try again, so you opt to just–not think about when it’s gonna happen again or if it’s gonna happen again. 

             Saturday almost flies by and before you know it, all three of you are lounging in the living room to watch a movie. Usually, Mark isn’t as present when you’re with Doyoung but since everything started, he makes himself known much more. He includes himself in things and engages in more conversation. You wonder if it’s because he’s waiting for you to do something again. The worst part about all of it is that you can tell Doyoung is enjoying the time he’s spending with you and Mark together. 

             Even during this movie, Doyoung doesn’t think twice when you lean against him and throw your legs over Mark’s lap to get comfortable. Alternatively, Mark thinks three to four times over when you do it, opting to keep his hands at his sides when he steals a glance at you and notes that you’re comfortable under his brother’s arm. 

             The movie goes on like that and Mark can’t help but feel like it’s taking forever to be over with. Then again, he’s staring at your legs on his lap more than the movie on the screen. It gets worse when there's a jumpscare and your legs are tensing up and moving around against him. At least this time it’s not your fucking foot and he’s got a calf muscle to work with. 

             You did it both intentionally and unintentionally. You weren’t exactly throwing your legs on him to get him to rub against them or anything, it was mostly just to fluster him, but Mark proves himself as someone with zero self-control once again. You feel him twitch under your legs and shamefully, it makes you wet. Like, incredibly wet actually. And in your defense, it’s not like Mark hasn’t seen this happen before, never in an intimate setting like this, but you really can’t help yourself knowing that if you want to get fucked, you’ve got Doyoung right here to do it for you. 

             Adjusting yourself, you pull your legs from Mark and take a second to focus on his lap. The tent in his pants was obvious, but Doyoung pays no mind as his eyes stay on the screen. You watch the way Mark covers himself quickly and looks at you. As he looks at you, you move a bit to look at Doyoung.

             Without warning, your boyfriend is thrown off guard by you suddenly kissing his neck. Mark doesn’t have self-control, and neither do you. You’re not trying to dangle your relationship in front of him, really, you’re not. It’s not your fault that Mark got hard and that caused a chain reaction in getting you wet. 

             Doyoung pulls back to look at you in confusion, smiling but also trying to dodge your kisses against his neck. 

 “Hey, hey slow down–” He turns his face to whisper into your hair. “It’s weird with Mark here.”

             You ignore his whispers and continue to kiss against him, moving your hand dangerously close to his upper thigh. 

             In a way, Doyoung can’t believe that you’re really acting like this in front of Mark. Sure, the two of you have kissed in front of him, and Mark has walked in on some steamy makeout sessions, but it was never intended to be in front of him. Then again, Doyoung knows how needy you can get and how selfish you can be when you’re wanting something specific from him. 

 “Okay, okay–” Doyoung whispers out again, gently pulling himself from the couch and grabbing your hand. 

 “Hey Mark, I think she’s getting tired.” Doyoung laughs with the obvious lie. “Can we finish the movie another time?” 

 “Uh, sure.” Mark responds, knowing full fucking well that you’re turned on because of him. The movie hadn’t played even one sexy scene to get you all riled up. 

 ~

             Come Sunday morning, you were just as turned on as you were the night before. You can feel your body heating the moment you even think of Mark, but Doyoung satiates you well enough. Even there against the bathroom wall as the two of you take a shower. 

             Doyoung took note the night before that you enjoyed it when he humiliated you for doing those things in front of Mark. Asking you if you were really so desperate that you’d let just anyone see you acting the way you did. He plays off of that today too. 

             Waking up hard wasn’t anything weird for Doyoung, and usually the morning showers end up as morning sex sessions anyway. You seemed more willing and awake this morning than any other time, and he’s thankful for it. 

             When he’s got you pressed against the wall as the warm water runs down your back, he doesn’t hesitate to plunge into you all the way with a comment of how much wetter you get when he degrades you. In a way, the punishment and degradation feels deserved, because you are embarrassed by how much you want to touch Mark.

 “You love when other people can see how much you want me, don’t you?” 

             You nod against the cold bathroom tiles, feeling his cock pressing deeply inside of you and making your legs feel weak. You do love when other people can see, but what you mean by that is you love when his little brother can see. 

             Mark, from across the hall, once again hears it all because it wakes him up. Doyoung hadn’t even attempted to keep his voice down while talking to you. 

 “Going so far as letting Mark see? How desperate were you?” 

             Mark’s ears perk up at the sound of his brother saying that, already stirring in his pants at the very idea of you getting off to that. How desperate were you? He wonders how you answer, or if you do. He wonders if you were desperate for him or if it was really for Doyoung.

             Without much more thought, Mark can’t go another day with you here right now. It’s becoming a bit too much, a bit too real, and honestly, he thinks he’s the desperate one right now. Wanting to barge into the bathroom, shove his brother away, and have his way with you. He could never. You’d never let him go that far surely. 

             And by the time it’s all said and done, you leave the bathroom lightheaded and Mark appears to have left the house to do something else.

 ~

             The week passes normally up until Thursday night. You’re rummaging through your cabinets for something to make for dinner when your phone goes off. Assuming it’s Doyoung again, complaining that Friday never comes fast enough, it’s Mark sending you something through instagram, and he’s drunk. 

             MarkLee99_ sent a photo: 

 MarkLee99_ : guess who got drunk on a thursday night and is regretting the fact that i wanna talk to you? 

             Never did you want a paper trail or some type of proof that you and Mark are involved in this weird….thing together. His message isn’t even sexual, it's just a bit intimate that your boyfriend’s brother is sending you selfies while drunk even though you came onto him first. He’s attractive, and entirely too cute right now trying to approach you via fucking Instagram because he won’t do it to your face. Then again, Doyoung is always around. 

 You: let me guess, you’re the one drunk on a thursday night and will probably say some shit that will make you not be able to look me in the eye tomorrow?

 MarkLee99_ : ding ding ding! what’re you doing? 

You: texting you and trying to find food, im hungry. what about you?

MarkLee99_ : bout to make another drink and pretend i don’t have your panties under my pillow

MarkLee99_ : …because i do

             Wow, Mark is bold and confident when he’s drunk. You find yourself smiling over it. You’d never guess or even assume he would try to make conversation with you about that of all things.

 You: oh yeah, you’re definitely drunk

MarkLee99_ : am i being too weird? 

MarkLee99_ : because you’re the one who started it

You: me? I started it? You stole my underwear! 

MarkLee99_ : you’re the one who let me keep them

You: that’s……fair….

MarkLee99_ : so… :) 

             Shy boy is no more at this moment and you almost feel caught off guard. Reminding yourself that he’s drunk, you try to set a boundary in your head and change the subject.

 You: what are you drinking?

MarkLee99_ : found some of my brother’s expensive whiskey, gonna tell him you drank it, he wont be mad then

You: you’re gonna tell him that I drank his whiskey, when he knows I don’t even like whiskey?

MarkLee99_ : yep

             You laugh at his stupidity, finally finding a snack for yourself and settling on the couch with your phone in hand. 

 You: and you’re drinking on a weeknight again, why?

MarkLee99_ : because i want you 

             Oh.

 MarkLee99_ : and i know im not allowed to, but it’s really hard to like, not, i guess

MarkLee99_ : i know im being weird and im sorry, just really drunk rn and wanna talk to you thats all

MarkLee99_ : or we can pretend i never message you and you can delete the messages

You: no, i think you’re being cute. You can calm down, it’s okay

             It’s definitely not okay, but you want it to be. You’re about to do some not okay things too, and cross those boundaries you literally just now set.

 You: so, they’re still under your pillow? 

MarkLee99_ : yea

You: when was the last time you didn’t have them under there?

MarkLee99_ : yesterday

You: oh yeah? 

MarkLee99_ : yea i washed them when doyoung was at work…um

MarkLee99_ : can you maybe wear them again

             God, he really is that desperate. 

 MarkLee99_ : please? you can leave them in the laundry like last time and ill just grab them

You: i’ll think about it 

MarkLee99_ : okay…so…uh….did you like the selfie 

You: i like seeing you in person more, it’s fun when you’re all flustered and stuff, trying to pretend you don’t like it

             Mark is giggling to himself like a schoolgirl, focusing on your messages and hoping to god he doesn’t forget the things you’re saying to him. He’s going to have to delete these messages as soon as it’s over though, for sure. At least he’s not drunk enough to forget the glaring issue at hand here.

 MarkLee99_ : i don’t like it because i always have a boner now lol i feel gross always having to go to my room and take care of it so things dont get weird

You: maybe ill take care of it for you someday, who knows?

MarkLee99_ : wait what

             You’re cheating. As if you haven’t been already. This is blatantly against your moral code and you literally do not care. 

 You: are you all flustered now?

MarkLee99_ : maybe,,,,

You: would you want me to? instead of you having to always run off to your room where I can’t see? 

MarkLee99_ : you’re doing this on purpose, you wouldn’t actually wanna

MarkLee99_ : would you?

You: guess you’ll just have to find out eventually

You: flustered now?

MarkLee99_ : yea, wanna see?

MarkLee99_  sent a photo: 

You:  jesus christ

You: you’re like, really big. I mean, I knew from feeling it last weekend but like, that was my foot lol

MarkLee99_ : yeah what even was that about? i felt so stupid doing that

You: you looked hot when you did it tho

MarkLee99_ : am i really that big? 

You: mark, look at it. im shocked you don’t already have a girl to bury it into yet

MarkLee99_ : could have one ;) 

You: ….yeah

MarkLee99_ : yeah? 

MarkLee99_  sent a photo: 

             Okay, it’s getting to be too much now. You can feel the warmth pooling into your panties already and you wonder if he would be just as eager to lick it up as he is to text you right now. You spread your legs wide, deciding on if you should do it. You’re already cheating, the guilt couldn’t get any worse anyway. 

 You sent a photo: 

 MarkLee99_ : oh fuck 

MarkLee99_ : you’re wet?

MarkLee99_ : sorry i wasnt expecting that

MarkLee99_ : can i save it

You:  :) 

 You sent a photo: 

 MarkLee99_ : you should give me those panties instead

You: okay, ill put them in the basket tomorrow night 

MarkLee99_ : will you still wear the other ones too?

You: you want //two// pairs?

MarkLee99_ : yeah :( 

You:  if it’ll make you keep being cute like this 

             Mark is blushing, flushing, and shaking all at once, one hand on his length  and the other texting you. He’s saved the photos anyway, boring holes into them with the thought of what must be behind that thin layer of sticky and wet fabric. He wants to put his face there, he wants to smell you and swallow you up. 

 MarkLee99_ : can i call you?

             A sharp feeling of fear but an even bigger feeling of arousal hits you. 

 You: I’m waiting. 

             You didn’t have to wait long, watching the bubble of him typing something to you disappear and instead getting a phone call. You know Mark had your number, and you had his, mostly for communication purposes for Doyoung. Never was this supposed to happen. 

             When you answer the phone after taking a deep breath, your eyes are nearly popping out of your head. Mark is shameless. All those nights of hearing him muffled through the wall now coming through crisp and clear on the speaker. If you close your eyes, it’s like you’re in his room with him. 

             You don’t speak, and instead listen. You had expected him to answer the phone stuttering, trying to dirty talk but ultimately failing. It appears his drunken state offers him more than just liquid courage, but liquid lust as well. For a moment you stop and contemplate hanging up. Mark is drunk and you can’t help but feel as though you’re taking advantage of him. Then again, previously sober he basically fucked himself against your foot at the dinner table. 

 “Feel good?” You ask with a chuckle. You can hear the movement of his body through the speaker and you’re aware that through the lack of slapping sounds that your panties are probably silencing what his hand is doing. 

             Mark barely answers. A quick “mhm” ringing through your ears with his deep breaths. This isn’t typically how phone sex would go, considering dirty talking is what gets a person there. Maybe Mark has never done this before, then again, maybe he gets off on knowing you’re listening to him while also alone. 

 “Can you–talk?” Mark asks weakly,  his hand stilling for a moment to focus solely on the image he has pulled up over your phone call. He can barely comprehend that you’re on the other line and he’s looking at your pussy pressing against slick panties.

 “I like hearing you do this,” You say quickly, not very good at this type of thing yourself despite knowing how it should usually go. You slowly start to trace your fingers against your panties, wondering if Mark would be gentle like this too, nervous even. 

 “Yeah?” He asks with a small, choked moan as he begins to move his hand again. “You’re not weirded out?”

 “If I was weirded out I wouldn’t have sent you photos.” You snap, frustrated suddenly with the whole situation that this is your boyfriend’s brother. “Stop calling it weird–” You trail off, listening intently to the shifting sounds you hear through the speaker. 

 “Doyoung isn’t home right now,” Mark suddenly admits, and you can feel the arousal disappear almost instantly as you hear his name. The reality hitting you, but still not caring enough to stop.

 “Don’t talk about him right now, This isn’t right but–”

 “But what?” Mark asks, this time pulling his hand away completely and wondering if you realized you fucked up. Hoping you won’t tell Doyoung, hoping this never gets found out. 

 “I can’t stop thinking about you.” You let out, finally pressing your fingers beneath the lining of your panties. “I know it’s wrong.”

             Like music to Mark’s ears, he feels the eagerness in his body swell to the point that it’s difficult to maintain. Doyoung has everything that Mark wants. A good career, a nice house, needed life skills. All of those things could be obtained with hard work and effort for Mark, but you. You were the one thing he was never supposed to have. You were the one aspect of Doyoung’s life that Mark wouldn’t have the ability to work his way towards, but he did. He has you right now, in this moment, and he feels like nothing could break him. He knows it’s wrong just like you do, but Mark is selfish too. 

             He doesn’t think you meant to feel this way, because he always sees the good in people, and if you were doing this with any other man he would definitely snitch on you if he found out. But you’re doing it with him and he doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt at this moment that he wants to fuck his big brother’s girlfriend, and it appears she wants to fuck him too. 

             A small part of Mark’s brain is anxious though. That little still-sober sliver of his moral code trying to fight its way to the front. Does he go with his heart or with his brain? Should he stop? Will he be able to look you in the eye tomorrow? Will he be able to ever look his brother in the eye? He isn’t sure. Both his heart and his brain tells him to go for you, the only thing telling him not to is the thought of his brother. The good news about that is, with you on the other end of this line, Doyoung doesn’t exist to him any longer as he goes to speak.

 “You can have me, you know.” He almost whispers, staring down at his heavy cock resting against his belly, panties left dangling off the tip. “I wouldn’t say no.”

             Those were dangerous words. Words you know you shouldn’t accept or be turned on by. 

 “I bet you wouldn’t–” You cut yourself off in a deep breath, pressing against your clit and rubbing harshly. Mark isn’t even talking much, just offering himself on a fucking platter to you.

 “Oh, shit, are you?” Mark swallows hard, the reality that you might actually be touching yourself on the other line sending waves of heat down his body in waves. He thought it was just him and only had the hopes that you wouldn’t start making fun of him for it. 

 “Oh shit, oh fuck.” He says, quickly moving his hand to grip against his cock and already feeling too sensitive from the short moments of neglect. “Where are your hands?” He adds.

 “In my panties.”

             Mark groans, dropping his phone by his ear on the pillow and using his other hand to grip something, anything as he opts to imagine your fingers sliding beneath the panties you’d shown him in the photo.

             You can tell he’s holding his breath, focusing on feeling good in the way he releases short, quick groans every now and then. You keep yourself silent though, trying to hear him, trying to imagine what he’s doing while thinking of you. 

             The wetness between your legs is being spread by your fingers as you scissor your lips open easily, letting a small groan roll off your tongue for him to hear. Satisfied by his responsive deep breath and sigh, you finally plunge your fingers in. 

 “Can you hear it, Mark?” You ask, lowering the phone a bit so that he can hear your fingers slide in and out of you with a wet sound. 

             He chokes on his end at that, swiping the panties off of him to replace the feeling of fabric with the feeling of his closed fist. His precum smears beautifully, offering him the sensation that if he squeezes hard enough, he can imagine that he’s fucking into your warm and wet pussy. He can hear how wet you sound and it’s driving him up a fucking wall not being able to physically see you do it in front of him. 

 “This is all I'm going to think about tomorrow–” He groans out, tightening his fist even more and bucking his hips into it. “You sound so,”

 “Wet for you?”

             That’s all it takes before Mark is gasping out a string of curses, the orgasm both sending him into a sobering world of pleasure and an even drunker state of wanting you to himself. Strings of white spurting all along his belly and going as far as his chin, he throws his other hand up and bites hard against the skin on his knuckle as he works through it. He doesn’t want to moan, he wants to hear how fast your fingers are moving. He wants to think about how you must be imagining him right now, feeling good and breaking the rules for him. 

             Finally, after an embarrassingly long orgasm from Mark, his room goes silent and his ears tune in to the speaker on his phone. You’re cooing, letting out pretty little breaths between the smacking sounds of your palms coming into contact with your clit as you work yourself through it. He can’t believe you’re doing this with him, and even after his own orgasm he’s still incredibly aroused despite his cock softening. 

 “You still there?” You groan out. He can tell the phone is closer to what your hands are doing than it is to your face, but he doesn’t mind.

 “I’m still here–” He swallows hard, catching his breath as he practically studies the audio you’re feeding to him. 

 “I bet that felt good,” You compliment his orgasm that was glaringly obvious on your end. You imagine he doesn’t even recognize that his hand was audible against his cock, and the sheer speed you heard of what he was doing made your clenching walls ache with everything you shouldn’t be wanting.”Wish I could see you right now–” 

             Mark did contemplate face timing you instead, but that was crossing more of a line in his head than just calling you. Plus, he would have probably hidden himself from view the entire time. It’s not like he expected to actually have you fucking yourself on the other end of the line, but here you are, and here he is, cum all over him. 

             He snaps a quick photo for you, and in your head you whimper a small yes, because you can hear the shutter from his phone.

 “Send it,” You demand softly, pulling your phone from your stomach and holding it in front of your face. 

             He does as you ask and feels embarrassed by the pools of cum all over his stomach. The photo consists mostly of his chest down. You can see his plush and bitten lips at the top of the photo though, and his quite big softening cock lying spent against his stomach, smearing some of the cum across his belly. 

             Mark listens to your reaction and hum of approval when you look at the photo, a small blush fanning his cheeks out of pure adoration for you rather than lust at this moment. He listens intently, unsure of if you’re going to work yourself to orgasm or hang up on him before he gets the chance to hear it. 

             The point is, Mark is getting a part of you that only Doyoung should have, and he will be damned to pretend he doesn’t like it. 

 ~

             Waking up with an immense amount of guilt in your head, you almost bail at going to Doyoung’s house this weekend. You’ve already called out of work simply because you find yourself thinking of Mark more than you should, and the guilt only wavers from you feeling like a piece of shit, to almost being a thought that you can push aside. 

             Doyoung would kill Mark if he found out, and you, what would he even do with you? Break up with you? Insult you? The thought of him finding out is the only reason you feel guilty. Because you still don’t regret showing Mark, letting him hear you, or hearing and seeing him. In fact, you don’t intend to stop either. You want him too much at this point, and he seems to be in the same place as you when it comes to this situation. Mark wouldn’t tell on you because then he would be telling on himself. 

             After all, he only moved in with Doyoung so he could taste freedom outside of his parent’s house. The strict curfews, the password protected websites despite him being a fucking adult, the supervision of his own money and belongings. Doyoung knew the pain of living there, and that’s why he accepted Mark with open arms. 

             Doyoung was a good brother and an even better boyfriend. You and Mark on the other hand. Mark’s an awful brother and you’re an even worse girlfriend. He didn’t deserve any of this, and he doesn’t deserve any of what’s to come either. You’re in too deep with Mark now, and the glaring attraction is too strong to ignore. 

             Never in your life did you think you could find yourself being unfaithful, let alone with your own boyfriend’s sibling, yet here you are. Only guilty if you get caught. 

             Mark had texted you at least three thousand times with apologies. Admitting that his head hurt too much this morning to be realizing what the two of you did. He said he wouldn’t approach you when you come over, apologized again, and then promised to never tell Doyoung and to never hold it against you if you think he’s weird for doing all of that to you.

             Reading over his string of messages, you realize that Mark is blaming himself. He feels like he’s taking advantage of you and wanting you to feel secure and safe in something you did without a second thought. 

             On his end though, Mark is in his room staring at the two photos you sent to him the night before. Partially wondering if it was all just a dream at first, those pictures of you were the truth of how you felt towards him. And when you never text him back he doesn’t think too hard about why.

             When you still show up at that day, he doesn’t question that you’re not eye fucking him the second you walk in through the door either. 

             Mark was once again lounging on the couch when you walked in and Doyoung was nowhere in sight. He hadn’t texted you either. Awkwardly, Mark speaks up before you can question it.

 “He told me to let you know that he was gonna be late again. Said something about knowing you’d spam him with needy text messages while he’s in a last-minute work meeting.”

             You look to the floor for a second, wondering if the real reason Doyoung didn’t text you personally like he always did is because he found out somehow. 

“Oh,” You sigh, slipping off your shoes and feeling a wave of anxiety wash over you. 

 “He doesn’t know, don’t worry–” Mark assures you as he stands to his feet and heads towards his room. “Sorry about last night, I won't do that again.”

 ~

             You’ve been slouched against Doyoung’s couch for at least an hour by now and your mind is still doing a back and forth between taking advantage of this alone time with Mark, or worrying about how you shouldn’t be left alone with him at all.

             The glaringly obvious issue in your head right now is the fact that you’re alone with Mark and you’re not upset about it. Mark assured you that Doyoung didn’t find out, and the fact that Mark is the best source of finding out exactly what Doyoung knows is more of a comfort than anything to you right now. 

             Thinking back to the night before, you remember releasing your orgasm on the phone and hearing him compliment you through it. You have the photo of him saved within your gallery, hidden from your too-trusting boyfriend’s eyes. It was the first time you’ve ever seen Mark’s lower half bare. He really was huge. 

             It’s not even shocking to you at this point that you can feel guilty and anxious one moment and immediately switch into some sex-starved beast at the very thought of Mark. 

 “maybe ill take care of it for you someday, who knows?” The text message you sent to him spreads across your thoughts, knowing full well that you’re probably going to get intimate with Doyoung later, the least you can do is let Mark have some first if he wants it, right? 

 You cautiously stand to your feet with a deep breath. The fact that you allow yourself to continuously dig the hole deeper for you to never be able to pull yourself out from inside. Maybe it's just what Mark does to your thoughts? The images of him are too good to be able to ignore, the guilt not nearly enough to make you stop wanting him. 

 Doyoung isn’t in your mind when you reach into your bag and grab the soiled panties you had soaked completely the night before, and Doyoung barely exists at all in your thoughts when you make your way down the hall and lean against Mark’s closed door. 

 “I wouldn’t say no.” was what Mark had messaged you before, guess now is the time to find out. 

 Opening his door without so much as a knock, Mark doesn't appear to notice you at all as his back stays turned and he focuses on the screen in front of him. The large headset is sitting comfortably on his ears and you’re sure that the volume is up far too loud to be healthy. You can hear his friend’s yelling directions, where enemies are hiding and where they’re headed next. 

 You smirk for a moment, noting how much of a typical college boy Mark is. Messy room, messy hair, messy relationship with his brother’s girlfriend. You can imagine he feels pride in what he was able to do with you, and that’s not even an ego boost on your end. You wonder if he’s told his friends anything at all. Not about who he likes or who he’s been getting intimate with even if not too-directly, but like, that he’s been getting fed sexual fantasies by someone in general. You wonder if he talks you up, then again, what if he hasn’t mentioned it at all.

 “Where were you last night anyway?” You hear over the too-loud headset as you come up behind Mark with the panties in your hand. 

 “Busy getting laid, unlike you losers.” Mark boasts, but you snicker at how he’s both lying and telling the truth.

 “Bullshit–” You hear another insult coming through his headset before you finally are right behind him. 

             Part of you wants to prove him right so his friend’s think he’s cool or something, but then again, what if they recognize your voice? Surely these are his friends from back home, some two to three hours from this city. Surely they don’t know you, right?

 “No, really.” You lean down against Mark’s headset and speak in a tone that isn’t too common for you,  and he freezes. 

 “No fucking way,” A deeper voice sounds through his headset and you can’t help but feel happy for him in the way they, for some reason, can’t believe Mark’s got some girl in this city interested in him. 

             When Mark tries to turn his body to look at you, you hold the chair in place. Knowing yourself how headsets work, you lift his mic until it clicks, hoping to god the mute function works like it’s supposed to and start talking.

 “Don’t move, keep playing if you want.” You say, dangling the panties over his head and lowering them in front of his face.

             More arousing than gross, you watch Mark’s face fall forward against them. Part of him can’t believe you’re really doing this right now despite leaving his messages on read. But you are, and these are the panties that he thought about all last night and most of today. He really meant it when he said that would be the only thing he would be thinking about, and here you are, keeping the promise of giving them to him.

             Reaching up and clutching the panties, Mark tries to turn towards you again. 

“Stay,” You say. “And don’t be loud.” You lower his mic into place where he is no longer muted and listen as his friends go from talking shit to starting up another game. 

             From behind his chair, you’re a little shocked at how good he is at following what you say. He doesn’t move, but you can hear his breathing and the way he struggles to balance it in order to remain some-what normal sounding to his friends when they address him. His fingers are shaking against his keyboard as the game starts, and you think he’s probably thought about this happening to him hundreds of times before. 

             Gamer boys always want this kind of thing. Some girl prodding and tugging at them, sucking them off under the table as they boast to their friends how they can be getting head and still getting gold damage by the time the match is over. 

             All you can think about right now is being the person to fulfill his fantasies. More turned on by the idea that Mark must want it so badly from you. When you reach around him, lying your hand against his lap, he’s already incredibly hard and stares down at it as the countdown screen on his game begins. 

             From out of sight, you don’t want Mark to see you. You want to see how badly he does through this, because it’s not only cute but actually fucking hilarious. It’s the first time you’re moving on him rather than him grinding against whatever you have to offer.

             Ignoring the call outs of enemies in game through his head set, both of you spiral into a world of your own again when you grab his length from over his sweatpants and just–you just hold him for a moment. The weight of it grows much heavier as he somehow manages to get insanely hard at the fact that you’re in the room with him and your incredibly used panties are sitting right there too.

 “Jesus–” Mark groans when you grab him, but his friends seem to pay no mind to it. Gamer talk and all. 

 “Jesus is right, you haven’t moved from that fucking building you cuck-” Some guy shouts from his head set.

 “Shut the fuck up Haechan, you’re literally in bronze,” Another man shouts.

             Mark is silent save for a sharp inhale when you squeeze your palm around him. He knows if he even tries to talk shit right now that all of his friends would just fucking know how desperate and embarrassing he is around you. That’s the last thing he needs.

             Finally, after a few moments of palming him through his pants, you dip right in. He doesn’t shy away from it either, spreading his legs from under his desk and lifting his ass up slightly so you can pull the pants down to release his length. 

             Even bigger than the photos, thicker than you genuinely imagined now that you see it from over his shoulder. Mark tries to turn his head this time to look at you, but you’re quick to catch his cheek and turn it back to the screen. 

             Gripping him again, Mark sighs into his mic and his friend’s screaming goes silent. You’re quick to lift his mic into the muted position just to offer some sort of escape from embarrassment now seeing that he’s incredibly willing to let you do this while his ego is on the line.

 “You want them to hear?” You ask, feeling his hips slightly buck into your grip. That sends shivers down your spine, finally feeling it for the first time.

 “I don’t care–” He sighs again, thrusting his hips up harder. “Just touch me,”

             The way he says it, for some reason, sounds so fucking broken that you could honestly swirl this chair around and impale yourself on him without so much as a second thought. But you contain yourself, now moving your grip up his length and thumbing over the head to feel the little beads of pre-cum. 

 “Alright, sweetheart,” You compliment, lowering his mic for the last time and wondering just how much he’s going to let his shithead friends hear.

             For a few moments, you gently jerk him off just to see his hips chase your fist. He’s needy in the way he moves his body but very fucking good at acting as you start to count each kill he manages to get through this. 

             By the time you hear his friends praise him, you feel a little competitive yourself. Shy, needy, desperate little Mark thinks he can get through a game the very first time you actually touch him? Perhaps he thinks he is giving you what you want, but what you want is to see him fall apart. 

             You move your hand faster, watching him from behind as he chokes up and slams his head against the headrest of his chair, nearly knocking the headphones off of him. 

 “Fuck,” Mark moans, knowing full well that his friends wouldn’t suspect anything if he says such a thing. 

             You know that was for you though, so you continue. The rhythm of your hand moving from a slow drag to something painfully fast and unfathomably good. Mark’s head is spinning, thrusting his hips up and gripping his computer mouse so tightly that he thinks he could crush it in his grip. 

             When his pre-cum is offering more lubricant for an easy slide up and down, your pace remains fast and you can squeeze harder. 

             Mark can’t hold himself back anymore, slamming his head against the headrest of his seat yet again, this time his headset sliding off of his head and falling into the floor. He lols his head from side to side as he finally lets out a moan, shooting a hand to your wrist and holding it in place so that he can fuck up into it. 

             You gasp at that, his grip harsh and far less gentle than you’d expect. The muffled screams of his friends are blatantly obvious and you can’t bring yourself to care if the mic muted itself during its descent to the floor or not. 

             He’s choking back little groans, releasing your wrist and staring down, then grabbing it again before fucking up harder. You can tell he has no idea what to do, what he should do, or what he’s going to do and it’s so fucking endearing. 

             He tries to turn to see you again, but you do your best to remain behind him as you grab the base of his cock and cause him to groan in pain.

 “Let me see you,” He nearly sobs in a frustrated way, and for a moment you contemplate letting him. 

 “Let me hear you.” You respond, keeping that same, painfully tight, grip against him and dragging it up to his head, enveloping it and sending sensitive shocks throughout his body. 

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Mark wiggles under the painful grasp, but his hips still chase when you drag your hand back down. He’s no longer being quiet, no longer pretending to care about his dead character on the screen, re-spawning and dying every few seconds. He’s a free kill for any enemy player right now and you can tell his friend’s are pissed in the way the screaming from the headset gets louder despite the distance. The chat box on screen is being spammed just as aggressively, and Mark can barely even open his eyes to process it. 

 “You were playing so well,” You coo out, shifting forward a bit and placing your chin on his shoulder. “What happened, Markie?” 

             He softly moans at the nickname, eyes half open as he glances down at how fast your hand is moving compared to your soft, balanced voice against his ear. He turns his head quickly, trying to catch you off guard, but you pull away.

 “So needy to see me,” You chuckle, working him up and knowing that he’s got to be close with the way she shamelessly moans in the most annoyed, frustrated way. 

 “Let me kiss you.” He grunts, bucking his hips aggressively, now chasing in full that painful grip you’re keeping against him so well. “I’ll keep my eyes closed, please,”

             You contemplate again giving him what he wants, but you figure he’s already getting more than enough. 

 “Oh? You’ll keep your eyes closed? Don’t you want to look at me?” 

             Mark is desperate now, hands moving to the armrests of his chair as he grips them hard, hips wildly stuttering in your grasp. 

 “Fuck, yes.” He lets out, dropping his head with a deep breath and then throwing his head back with an even longer moan. 

             You can’t tell if that was him answering you, or simply reacting to what his body is feeling, and you don’t really care. He’s already there, walking on the thin line of orgasm and willing to take whatever it is you give him. He no longer wants anything, he’s just experiencing. 

             You watch him from behind very closely, the shiver running from his toes straight to his ears was obvious enough.

 “That’s it,” You whisper from behind. “I know you want to.”

             Mark’s entire body tenses against the chair, you can feel it stress from the way his legs spread wider and his hips go from quick thrusts to short, drawn out drags against your palm. The image of him doing that between your legs washes over every single one of your thoughts. He would do that, burying himself so deeply as he spills out inside of you, thrusting in and slowly dragging his hips out, just to thrust in again to push his seed impossibly deeper.

 “That’s so hot,” Mark comments with a deep breath, and only then do you realize the small moan you’d let out during that intense thought of him. His come is spilling out in loads and all you can do is watch him get through it. 

             Finally, after making a mess of him, you smile to yourself. A job well done. 

             You opt to make a grand exit, saying nothing after releasing his cock and sauntering out of the room in silence to leave him to his thoughts. You could still hear his friends screaming through the microphone, and he doesn’t even call out after you. Mark must feel on top of the world right now, because you know that you do.

 ~

             Doyoung came home later than last time, tired and droopy. He found himself drawn to you more than usual, noting that your eyes were sparkling a little brighter upon walking through his door. 

             You put Mark in the back of your head much like you always tried to do when Doyoung was around you these days. Your love for your boyfriend is still blatant and honest when you’re next to him, not at all feeling pity for Mark having to see it. Mark should know who it is you love, despite the fact that you jerked him off a mere few hours ago.

             When Doyoung is next to you, when his arm is around you and his eyes are on you, you don’t question for a second that everything you’ve been doing behind his back will come back on you, and it’ll be well deserved pain. But there’s still a part of you that hopes you can keep Doyoung forever and always be happy beside him. You’re actively betraying him, his own flesh and blood is helping you dig this hole deeper and deeper. So deep that Doyoung can’t even see the bottom where Mark’s got his hands on you. 

             Fully intending to keep them both, you find yourself feeling more fulfilled despite the awful moral. Doyoung isn’t willing to share, but Mark is. And you, you don’t have to share.

 ~

             Saturday was as normal as always. Mark pops in and out of his room, not even once acting as if something suspicious is going on. If anything, Doyoung is a little more happy to see you spend time with Mark when he’s not in his room. It was awkward at first. Mark’s always been shy but it seems like he’s loosened up after realizing you’re a permanent part of the picture for as long as you’re with Doyoung. He’s endeared by the way you bully his brother the same way he does. 

             Even that little crush Mark had on you when he first met you appears to have fallen into more of a sibling-like relationship to Doyoung. He thought it was cute that Mark had a crush, after all, it’s you. Doyoung fucking fell head over heels when you gave him attention and wouldn’t be caught dead releasing his grip on you once he asked you to be his girlfriend. The point is, Doyoung knew Mark had a small crush but was pleased to see it turn into something more casual and comfortable. He likes his life, loves his girlfriend, and loves his brother. Nothing could get better than spending time with the two of you, even if Mark jumps up to go be a recluse in his room from time to time.

 ~

 “Mark,” Haechan grits through the mic. 

 “What?” Mark responds, throwing his arms behind his head as he smiles to himself through the webcam.

 “You should be embarrassed.” Haechan argues. “We didn’t wanna hear that shit.”

 “I muted him.” Jeno says with a shrug through his webcam. 

 “Yeah, me too.” Jaemin follows up, all eyes now falling to Haechan with a red face.

 “I was in a tight situation! I couldn’t tab out!” Haechan defends himself easily, still a darker shade than usual.

 “I think she wanted you guys to hear,” Mark laughs quietly, whispering. 

 “Why are you whispering?” Jeno asks, leaning forward towards his camera as if Mark was about to whisper out again, this time with a deeper secret. 

             Instead, Mark shifts his eyes and changes the subject. As much as he would love to tell his friends that he’s managed to get a handjob (not the foot thing) from his brother’s girlfriend, he’s sure they’d have a little more respect for him. But it feels like a betrayal to say it out loud, regardless of how hot the idea is in his head.

 “Because my brother is with his girlfriend and it’s weird if they know what happens when they’re not here.” Mark deadpans out to his friends, who nod their heads in agreement. 

 “She left her panties,” Mark goes to say, removing his hands from behind his head and sitting up from his relaxed position. “Wanna see?”

             Haechan was, obviously, the first to nod his head and Mark didn’t really need the others to agree anyway, because they’re a group of college guys who are always either talking about getting laid or how to raise their rank when playing competitive games.

 “Damn,” Jeno laughs as he sees the thin fabric come into view. “Are they dirty?” 

 “Oh yeah,” Mark boasts, spreading out the fabric and bringing them close to the camera. 

 “Y’all are gross.” Haechan waves them off, averting his eyes and trying to pretend he’s not interested.

 “Mark’s full of shit, he probably bought those and was being weird with them. That’s definitely his load we’re looking at, guys.” Jeno cuts in. 

 “You heard her talk to him through the mic, there’s no way he’s lying.” Haechan, for some reason, argues for Mark.

 “Uh, no I didn’t. I had him muted the second I saw his hero standing in the middle of the map without moving.” Jeno argues back.

“I lied, I didn’t mute him.” Jaemin finally admits. 

             Mark can’t stop smiling. The fact that he can barely believe what happened himself is enough not to argue. They’re your panties, that’s your scent in them, and that was your hand wrapped around him yesterday. 

 ~

             Waking up on Sunday felt, again, normal. You hadn’t heard Mark through the walls the night before but Doyoung sure did. He mostly drowned out the sounds by putting in his headphones though, unlike what you would have done. Doyoung did, however, wake up hard considering the two of you passed out the night before without so much as a lingering hand.

             To his dismay, you groan at his roaming hands as he wakes you up. Doyoung knew you loved being woken up this way, but he knew to stop if you made a sound like that.

 “What’s wrong?” He says, pulling his hand back and instead, placing it in your waist so that way he can pull you closer.

             You don’t respond, cracking an eye open and immediately feeling your head pound at the sunlight shining through the windows. You feel bad that since thursday, the only intimacy you’ve had has been with Mark despite being in love with the man against you. Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that you immediately, physically, feel like shit this morning, you’d be jumping Doyoung’s bones. 

 “Head is pounding.” 

 “Ah,” Doyoung smiles, hugging you against him and rubbing circles against your skin with his thumb. “It’s okay, you can sleep in. I’m gonna go make some breakfast.”

             Your boyfriend’s good mood doesn’t go unnoticed, nor does your headache. You take him up on that offer and immediately fall back to sleep.

             Later, you wake to Doyoung gently patting your cheek. 

 “You want some food? Might help?” 

             You nod, squinting your eyes and sitting up a little too quickly. You glance around as he turns away and heads back towards the kitchen, and then you stretch your arms out. Things feel too fucking normal for you to be doing what you’ve been doing. This headache is well fucking deserved, surely. 

             Making your way into the kitchen, you note that Mark’s bedroom door was open and he wasn’t in there. He also wasn’t in the kitchen or living room. 

“Where’s Mark?” You ask casually, sitting down at the table and rubbing your temples.

 “Said something about one of his friends coming to a city nearby and wanting to go hang out with him. Probably Haechan.” 

             Your heart starts beating in your ears at the thought that you really thought Doyoung wouldn’t know any of Mark’s friends? Sure, you thought that maybe they were just online friends, or maybe people Mark met after Doyoung moved out of his parent’s house, but you recognize that fucking name. Thankfully, you had changed your voice just slightly as you spoke to Mark the other day. Surely this isn’t what would ruin the entire arrangement.

 “Ah,” You groan. “Finally we have the house to ourselves and I have to wake up with a migraine?” 

 “It’s okay, really.” Doyoung smiles, sitting a plate of food down in front of you. “Besides, we both know you like the thrill of needing to be quiet.” 

             He’s joking, you know he is, but it was the truth before this whole thing with Mark started. 

 “If we really wanted to be alone, I'd be at your apartment every weekend.”Your boyfriend adds, planting a kiss to the top of your head and heading towards the medicine cabinet. “Little weird that it has to be my brother that we are keeping quiet from, but whatever.”

 “Didn’t know i’d be this into it, honestly.” You admit, feeling open enough to at least tell him that you’re very into the idea of someone hearing you. You just won't admit that you want it to be Mark.

 “I mean, I personally am not into this type of thing. It’s a little uncomfortable for me.” Doyoung sits down and hands you two painkillers. “But I doubt he’s actually listening. I apologized after the first time and he said he usually just puts in headphones and goes to sleep.”

             You hold back the smile of Mark’s blatant lies towards Doyoung. 

 “So I guess I don’t entirely mind feeding into your little fantasies of being heard, or caught, or whatever.”

             Your boyfriend waves off the conversation with a smile, ultimately willing the fact that it is weird to him out of his head. If that was a new thing you realized you liked, the only way you would have found out is by having someone else in the house when the two of you do those things. Unfortunately, it was Mark. In Doyoung’s head, he was mature enough to discuss it like an adult with his brother. Guidelines and rules, moving Mark in wasn’t going to change his sex life with you, if anything, he had already told Mark to invest in some decent headphones or earplugs because he’s gonna hear some shit. 

             You allow the conversation to die as you work up an appetite. Thankfully Doyoung was an amazing cook, though he only did it one or two nights a week considering how spent his job makes him feel. You’re thankful he cooked this morning, and even more thankful for these two little pills that will hopefully knock your headache out within the hour.

 ~

             Come Monday, you’re thankful you get to work from home. You sleep in and try your best not to think about the fact that Doyoung knows the friends that heard you be intimate with Mark. You’re even more thankful for this week away from your boyfriend’s house because, even though you’ve processed everything, you feel like you should probably be alone for a while and really think about what you’re doing.

             When Mark is around or texting you, it’s hard to think straight because you genuinely want him so fucking bad. And when Doyoung is beside you, or texting you, all you can do is imagine a future with him.

             The once bright, clear future of Doyoung in a tuxedo standing in front of you at some extravagant altar becomes a little more foggy at the thought of where Mark would fit into it. Would he be behind Doyoung, watching him marry you to start a real life together? Would he be somewhere in the crowd, waiting to object and expose you for the awful girlfriend you are? Or even worse, would he not be there at all? Running away and disappearing never to insert himself into your life or his brother’s life ever again?

             You don’t want to think about the future right now. Everything you’ve been doing has been so selfish and so fucking fulfilling that you can’t bring yourself to feel any amount of pity for Doyoung and the way he trusts you fully. You never once gave him a reason to not trust you, and you think maybe Mark hasn’t given him a reason. 

             But god, he shouldn’t trust either of you at all. He’s at work, making money, living his life with a supposed loving girlfriend all while offering his little brother an ounce of freedom. What does he get in response to his hard work and kindness? His brother wanting to tongue fuck his girlfriend? And worse yet, his girlfriend wants it even more than his brother does? 

             Your mind is burning through scenarios all day if you have it in you to feel bad. Another scenario involves you, married to Doyoung and sneaking Mark out of your bed when Doyoung returns from work. Even more scenarios of Doyoung finding out and hating you forever, leaving you and meeting someone better. How could you have them both and keep it going? Is something like that even possible?

             Then you get a text.The glaring reality blows right past your head when you’re expecting it to be Mark but you see Doyoung’s name on the screen. You still feel just as excited though. 

 Doie: good news and great news

You: oh? :o 

Doie: Good news: co worker has family issues and had to drop out of the business trip coming up.

             You were about to question why that’s good news, but then Doyoung quickly texts again.

 Doie: great news: i am now being asked to attend the event and it could get me a pretty big promotion. 

You: You’re gonna go right?? When is it?

 Honestly, the way your heart swells at your boyfriend moving up in the world could knock anyone on their feet. No one would ever guess what you do behind his back, because again, you haven’t lost an ounce of love for this man and you probably never will.

 Doie: I leave tomorrow if I accept.

You: how long is it? do you need help packing since it’s such short notice?

Doie: only three days, so i’d be back on friday and still get to see you this weekend

You: it’s a win/win! i can come over tonight since i’m working from home today.

Doie: you good to sleep over and drop me off in the morning at the airport? i can give them an answer now so they can work out the transport and get the tickets transferred to me. 

You: you didn’t need to even ask me first!! you should have immediately said yes! I’ll be over tonight, i’m proud of you

Doie: love you babe :) 

             And so there it is. The glaring issue about to become a blatant, full blown affair. And like, you don’t want to get it twisted. You are so fucking proud of Doyoung and so fucking glad that everything in his life appears to be rushing him straight to major success, but also, he’s going to be gone for three days and that’s three days to try and get over this whole Mark phase(which is unlikely). By using Mark. By fucking him, specifically.

             It doesn’t help that just a few moments later, presumably after Doyoung lets Mark know the plan, Mark is texting you.

 Mark: Doyoung’s leaving for 3 days

You: yep :) 

Mark: ….do i even need to say it

You: nope

Mark: gonna clean my room

 ~

             Dropping Doyoung off was weirdly bitter sweet. His confidence was through the roof as he kissed you goodbye. He even  asked for a second kiss for good luck after rushing back to you a few seconds later. You knew he’d do amazing for this event, even with it so last minute. Everything Doyoung did was with effort and thought put into it. 

             That was the sweet part anyway. The bitter part is the guilt finally coming to you like it should have weeks ago. The fact that Doyoung is walking off to get on an airplane and Mark is at home cleaning his room to fuck you in it. It’s obvious that you don’t deserve either of them. 

             Still, the guilt hitting you now is unnerving. It took so long to come, and only consumes you when Doyoung isn’t around to nearly witness the infidelity? Shaking yourself of disgust, you head out of the airport and still find yourself pulling into Doyoung’s driveway.

             You sit in your car for a moment. Thinking back on all of those small moments with Mark, wondering now if you still want him or if those moments were enough to satisfy the curiosity of your boyfriend’s brother. Even through the guilt, you still want him. 

             Stepping out of your car and walking up to the door felt too unfamiliar and nerve wracking, hearing your heart skip beats and your body melt away into the hole you fucking dug for yourself. However, the moment Mark opens the door and looks at you, before you could even unlock it yourself, every single guilt ridden thought disappears. 

             You don’t know what it is about him, and surely you’ve never felt this way before, because goddamn is it a blinding kind of feeling. Thinking back as you look at him, he seems different now despite having the same face and body language. Before, Mark was cute with his little crush. Weird even, with the way he lingered for too long to see you kiss his brother. Now, when you look at him, he looks like he isn’t at all the cute, shy little brother. He’s Mark, a man with wants and needs that have your name written all over them. You can’t fucking help yourself, and now being able to indulge yourself fully along side him, Doyoung is drowned out in the back of your mind.

             Mark is still shy and timid in the way he moves but he knows just as well as you do what’s about to happen and isn’t at all shying away from the fact that he’s about to fulfill every dirty little thought he’s had about you since he met you. Hell, since he saw photos of you that Doyoung sent before he ever met you.

             On cloud nine, Mark is timid when he, for the first time, makes a move on you. It’s shocking that he did it at all, if you’re being honest, but you lean into him. All he does is grab your hand, a touch that wouldn’t raise suspicions at all in Doyoung if he were to see it, but to you it’s the most intimate thing he could do at this moment. Because he’s leading you, and his eyes are hungry and unable to pull from you. 

             Not a single fucking word is said, everything already spoken and understood with nothing more than the look when he opened that fucking door. Mark leads you to his room, and the energy in the air is so electrifying it scares you. Never has a touch to your hand, or a leading pull to a bedroom made you feel so weightless. You think back to when you held his length in your hand, you had all of the power that day. Now, you don’t think Mark realizes what he could get away with. You’re falling into the same mindset you have with Doyoung, one where you want, need, and could beg to be touched, but you still yourself from falling too far into it. 

             Mark is even more gentle when he lets your hand go and turns towards you with a deep sigh, as if he’s preparing his entire being for what’s coming. Both of you like a deer in headlights, as if this wasn’t intentional or planned, you smile at him. 

             Mark lets out a nervous laugh at your smile, shaking his head and looking down. He’s already stiff beneath his pants, which are conveniently unbuttoned and unzipped. Even you, shamelessly wearing a dress with no panties. Doyoung thought it was for him, and he damn well did fuck you this morning while on a confident-high before you took him to the airport.

             You knew Mark could hear it, and he didn’t appear to care. Because in all fairness, Mark did not give a fuck. Because he knew you weren’t his at that moment, but you fucking would be before the night is up. The next three days, you’re his. Even if he never has you again.

             That deer-in-the-headlights look from Mark fades as his eyes take you in without hiding it for the first time. You imagine he will fall apart if he were to trace his hands under your dress and find that you are completely bare, you imagine you would fall apart much faster if he touched you at all.

             It happens so fast. Too fast, almost with the way he steps up to you confidently. You just now realize that he’s taller than you when he skews his head and looks down at your lips. His breathing is uneven and you can tell he’s doing his best to be confident because you haven’t made a move towards him at all like you usually would. 

             Looking up at him, you want to reach up and grip his hair. His lips are so plush, clearly freshly coated with chapstick. His skin is practically glowing save for the few blemishes that the fringe on his forehead covers, you find yourself wondering if he’s taking this moment to study you too.

 “I’m having a really hard time holding back,” Mark whispers out, inches from your face. 

 “Then don’t.” You encourage him without doubt, hoping that he can break past that last little boundary the two of you haven’t crossed yet. The one where he can kiss you, touch you, have you. Only because you can’t bring yourself to do it at this moment, for some reason.

             The feeling of his lips touching yours was more bruising than you think he intended them to be, but the desperate feeling was all the same as your own, you think. Never had you actually stopped to think of kissing him or how he would go about it. Like running in blind, you’re learning that Mark knows what to do with his tongue, how to pace himself despite not wanting to, and how to reach up and hold your fucking face in a dreamy way. 

             His hands are cupping your face, kissing you like you’re his girlfriend. He still moves his lips in a hungry and desperate way though, in a way that has you struggling to breathe by the force of it alone. 

             When his hands drop from your face and fall to your waist. Every new place he touches feels like it’s set ablaze. You press forward against his chest, walking him back as you continue to kiss, all the way until he falls back on his bed with an ‘oof’ sound. 

             Still, his face is slack as he stares up at you now, eyes struggling to stay trained on your face for too long as you begin to take off your jacket and reach over to pull at his shirt. 

             So badly you want to see him shirtless again, but he doesn’t argue, eagerly lifting it off of his body and lying back again. 

             Now that the initial intimacy has been established, you finally feel you coming back to yourself, thinking more clearly and finding a small list in your head of things you want and need to do for him. Starting with letting him really look at you.

 “I know how much you like my panties, but–” You smile, standing in front of him and trying to keep your eyes averted from his length threatening to break through his pants. 

 “Let me see,” Mark urges you, tilting his head with a swallow and training his eyes on your thighs. 

             He thinks you must be wearing the prettiest pair today, for him, not for his brother. But when you lift your leg and straddle him, his face contorts to confusion and then to pleasure when you sit against his cock. Of course, with the fabric covering his length, he still can’t tell that you’re not actually wearing any panties at all.

 “You wanna see?” You ask for his clarification, bunching your dress up in your hands and preparing to lift it so he can see your bare folds sitting against him. 

             Mark blinks at you, nodding his head and nibbling on his bottom lip. He’s doing everything in his power not to reach up and grab your waist just to guide you on him. He’s afraid to move too fast, he’s afraid to embarrass himself with how fucking desperate he is for you right now.

 “Look,” You say, nodding between your legs and lifting your dress.

 “Goddamn,” Mark gasps as his eyes focus on the fact that you’re leaving a small wet spot against his pants. That’s your pussy on him. 

            Without a second thought his hands are on your waist, pushing and pulling you forward and backwards against his length. You blink hard at the sensation of the fabric rubbing against your lips harshly, and then open your eyes to look at him again.

             He is still staring between your legs, almost losing himself to this alone. Then again, it’s the first time he’s ever seen you bare and he cannot get past the fact that Doyoung gets to see it whenever he fucking wants. 

 “I can feel it–” Mark chokes, referring to your wetness seeping through his pants and onto him. 

             You smile at him, now moving your hips on your own as you pull his hands away and push them to lay above his head. If he thinks this is good, you want to see how fast he reaches for you again.

             It’s so easy when you lift yourself up, and incredibly cute in the way his eyes follow your core when you lift. He doesn’t even realize that you shove his sweats down and sit right back down, this time coating him in full with your slippery juices. 

 “God, fuck,” He moans in disbelief, and just as expected his hands shoot to your waist and hold you down against him. You’re not sure if it’s intentional or not, but he’s incredibly sexy in the way he moves without thinking. 

 “Fuck?” You question cutely, forcing your hips to slide up his length despite him trying to hold you there. 

 “How are you always so wet?” He questions in a whimper, letting you move and instead grabbing the hem of your dress himself and holding it up so he can watch you slide against him. 

 “How are you so big?” You try to compliment, feeling him between your folds and wondering just how deep he could fuck you if he so wanted to. “So, so big.” You groan out this time, feeling the head of his cock bumping against your clit every few seconds.

             Mark obviously doesn’t answer, his fingers are gripping your dress so tightly and his eyes are burning the image of you doing this into his head. He never wants to forget this moment of feeling you against him for probably the first and last time, because in all realness, this can’t happen again if he thinks too hard about it. 

 “I want to fuck you so bad,” He admits. “Just this once, please.” 

             You nod cutely, swiping his hands away from your dress and lifting it off of you in full.       His eyes are now glued to your tits and whatever it was he was saying is long forgotten as he watches them move when you slide up against him again.

             The way he shuts up is entirely too arousing. You can see him thinking about you, practically able to see him process every part of your body on top of him. 

 “Take your pants off, quickly.” You finally say, frustrated when you slide back and off of him. 

             He does as he’s told when you stand to your feet in wait, and instantly he’s lifting himself and grabbing you, pulling you right back on him. 

 “You’re so fucking hot,” Mark whines, pushing your hips against him and keeping himself upright, careful not to fall back against the mattress so he can plant his lips against your neck. 

             You feel a bite and pull back from him, hips stilling.

“You can’t leave any bruises–” You scold him, and he simply nods and goes back to kissing against your neck and shoulder.

 “Right, wouldn’t want him knowing that I fuck you better, right?” Mark mocks the situation as a whole, using reality as a form of ego boost, hoping to god that you lean into it rather than run from it.

 It makes you a little angry, but you get it. Mark’s confidence must be through the roof because never would you have imagined him speaking to you like this, or mentioning his brother at all.

 “Prove it and maybe i’ll play along.” You try to challenge him, but you know that he might actually be right. His size is definitely bigger than Doyoung’s, but can he work it the same way, or better? Can the shy, timid little brother actually satisfy you the way your boyfriend does?

 Mark pulls back from kissing your neck only for a moment, moving to your lips and wincing at the feeling of your folds sliding against him still, maybe he did get a little too cocky there. 

 “Prove it?” He breathes against your lips, gripping your waist tighter and guiding you up. 

 You already know what he’s doing and don’t shy away from it. Usually there’s foreplay, and you’re sure he wanted to do more than just fuck you, but too little too late. You’re hungry for it and so is he, if the sounds between you are enough to go by. 

 Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lift yourself and allow his hand to disappear between the two of you. You can feel him position himself right at your entrance and all you need to do is sink down. You don’t yet though and instead look at him.

 He stares back at you with anticipation, and when you sink down just a tiny bit, he’s lunging his lips forward and kissing you again. Continuously as you sink down inch by inch, feeling him stretch you out in a searing type of pleasure, Mark just groans into your mouth. You can feel his chest heave against you as he feels your walls start to envelop him and when you’re finally seated, he pulls you down with him as he falls against the mattress.

 There, in a hug, his mindless kissing becomes even more vacant as he holds you in place, fucking his hips up and into you in an aggressive pace. His lips release from yours and his moans come out strangled, breathless, and entirely desperate for you.

 He’s deeper inside of you than any man has ever been able to reach without the aid of a toy, and the head and thickness of it is far better than any plastic could ever be. You imagine you sound just as desperate as he does right now. Unable to wiggle in his grasp, you just take it. You were well versed in that, at least.

 Mark holds you there for at least a full moment, feeling you clenching and drenching his cock in a way that makes the slide easy and pleasurable for him. His hips can move much faster this way, but the fear of coming too quickly forces him to slow his movements and open his eyes.

 Your legs are spred out over his own, his cock is buried into you completely, and you fucking just take it? God, No wonder Doyoung is in love with you. 

 Mark’s arms release you from the hug and he uses one hand to lift your face.

 “Sorry,” He says before getting a look at your face, but he ends up losing any thought in his head when he notes how blown your pupils are, face still contorted in a silent moan as you bounce yourself against him now.  

             What he was gonna say was that he was sorry he lost control for a second, but what he ends up saying now is “Oh my god, I want this so bad.” 

             Despite that Mark is getting everything he wants at this moment, all he can do is look at you and watch you grind your clit against his pelvic bone chasing a pleasure that he knows you’re feeling intensely right now. He thinks of himself in pity, all those nights of wanting exactly this and never knowing that he actually fucking gets to do it.

             Without thinking, Mark doesn’t even know why he does it, but he keeps his cock buried deeply into you and knocks you over. He follows your body, adjusting himself behind you and pulling your leg up and draping it over his hip. There, he slips out of you only slightly to hear you whine at the loss. You’ve gone so silent save for moaning and he thinks he’s in love with you. Stuffing you again, he smiles at the way you throw your head back and look at him from behind you. 

             One hand now reaches around you and cradles one of your tits, the other snaking between your legs and experimentally tapping against your clit. 

 “Damn, Mark,” You manage to say in a more stable voice, realizing that he’s really fucking you in the spooning position now? Of course he fucking would. It’s such an intimate position, and the angle, you could argue, is one of the best you think you’ve ever felt. 

 “Hm?” He hums against your shoulder, feeling your body jerk as he fucks his length into you repeatedly. “Feels good, right?” He asks, moaning himself this time at the way you close your legs around his hand and grind back against him.

             He’s quick to abandon your clit to push your legs open again, draping it right back in the same spot over his own legs. He can imagine how spread out you look, despite not being able to see it in this position. He’s heard time and time that women like this angle, and now’s the chance to test it.

             This time, when you reach back and pull his face to yours, now kissing him with more force than you had before, he imagines the rumors were true. His fingers find their way back to your clit. 

             Mark’s moving his hips with intent now, trying his best to control how good he feels so that way he can focus on yours, and after one particularly deep thrust, he notices that you jolt and shiver.

 “Oh my god, did I find it?” He asks, experimentally pressing his hips up the same way. 

 “Fuck-” You choke out, your body jolting without intent again and feeling shockwaves of what you can only describe as mini orgasms shooting throughout your muscles. “Right there, keep doing that,” You frantically encourage him, mouth falling slack against his lips. 

             He does, pressing his hips harder this time in the same pay. Repeatedly hitting the soft spot inside of you and ultimately sending you into a world of something you’ve, strangely, never felt before in terms of sex. 

             Mark watches you roll your head back, moaning out with a slack and somewhat pained face as he does it. He cannot fucking believe he found your g-spot on the first try and he will be damned to stop now. 

             He focuses now, grunting at the way your walls clench him so tightly each time he hits your spot with the head of his cock. He’s determined to make you come, make you babble out strings of his name and how good he feels. He needs you to feel so good that you’ll never think twice of letting him do this again, and again, and again, no matter how close you could be to getting caught. 

             His hips are going at a pace faster now than he thought possible, and with his fingers working your clit paired with his cock driving into the single most pleasurable spot inside of you, you find your body tensing up and your mind erasing every thought and memory. It’s so much to feel at once but you feel too weak to stop him for just the smallest moment of collecting yourself. 

 “Are you going to?” He asks, broken with his own moans and deep breaths as he does his best to keep pace and work you through it. “I know you want to.” He manages to breathe out, mimicking your own words from the time you had him in the palm of your hand. 

             And you do want to. So you fucking do. You come hard around him, clenching him so tightly that Mark stills his hips in disbelief at the way your body moves when you release. He can barely get the words out when he speaks, feeling you drench him with liquid fire. “You’re squeezing me so tight–” He chokes out, jerking his hips back and trying to pull out of you for his own release.

 “Do not pull out,” You groan as your orgasm continues to choke you of your breath. “Let me feel it, do it.” You demand, pressing yourself back and enveloping the inches of him that he had pulled from you.

 “Fuck. fuck.” He moans out louder this time, hands gripping your waist and holding you against him as he shakes behind you. You can feel him twitch inside of you as he shoots those thick, white ropes of cum against your walls. For a brief moment you remembered when he released from your hand, pressing himself slowly and roughly into your first. You were right. 

             Mark buries himself as deep as he can go, only grinding back a few centimeters before pressing himself flush against you as another spurt paints the flesh inside of you. You feel so full, and he’s packed so tightly in you  that you genuinely think this is the first time you’ve ever actually felt a man come inside of you. Like really feel it. 

             When he’s done, he’s so fucking fast to pull out of you. It shocks you, actually.

 “Where are you going?” You ask, looking behind you as he backs away from you momentarily in a panic. 

 “I–” He pauses, looking at you and the way your eyes look back at him in a different type of panic. “Don’t know.” He says, getting back onto the bed and reluctantly putting his arms around you in a hug.

 “I don’t know how to like, end this.” He admits against your shoulder, still reeling from the fact that it happened, but now in a post-nut state of mind and kind of scared of how much he loved doing that with you. 

 “End it?” You ask, pulling away from him. “You want to stop?”

 “You don’t?” He asks, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. 

 “I mean, we both know what we are doing…” You trail off, sitting yourself up and fully aware that the guilt will always hit you at random times, but still, you want Mark. “And we still kept doing it.”

 “Yeah, but–” 

 “But?” You ask, turning your body to face him as he sits himself up now. The nakedness of your bodies is not at all embarrassing at this moment. 

 “Mark, I don’t think I can like, not want you if you still want me.”

             He nods his head reluctantly, wondering if this is you offering the fact that you’re willing to straight up, blatantly, and shamelessly cheat on Doyoung with him.

 “Ugh,” Mark puts his face in his hands and then runs his fingers through his hair. “This is so fucked up.”

 “Yeah, it is.” You admit, leaning towards him. “But If you never tell anyone,”

 “No, no! I wouldn’t.” Mark throws his hands up defensively. “I only feel bad when you’re not here.” He says questioning himself. “I don’t think I’d be able to like, not ever do this again.”

 “So we are both in this same little fucked up boat?” You ask. 

 “I guess so.” He laughs at himself, and then at you. “If he ever finds out, you know i’ll be found in a ditch somewhere, right?”

             You laugh, despite it being the worse fucking joke in the world. Running hand in hand with Mark into a fire that you both fucking searched for. 

 “Well, I’m not gonna fucking tell him.” You say, pressing the important matter at hand. “The point is, Mark, I need you to understand that I’ve never cheated on anyone.”

             Somehow, he lightens the mood.

 “Damn, I must be special.”

             You guess he is.

  ~

#mark lee smut #mark smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #neo-hub #nct-writers #nct dream smut #mark lee fic

[lowkeychenle]

HELLO MY DEAR I WOULD LIKE TO MAKE A REQUEST PLEASE 🌹 thought abt this classic scenario w chenle and immediately thought of ur writing hehe so like.... a fic where y'all go to your parents' house to visit and you stay the night and chenle's been eyeing you all day and now ofc he's horny as hell and the cliche of fucking when ur parents are right next door and trying not to be heard commences 😈 bonus points when ur jokingly trying to put up a front of "noooo its so wrong" but chenle knowsss you'll fold eventually and melt bc of his kisses and be putty in his hands.... also when his dirty talk is all like "i knew u wanted this" and how ur so dirty for seducing him and doing this when ur parents are right in the next room and can hear u and he has to put his hand over ur mouth to cover the noise (when its literally his fault like 🤨) anyways i know you'll come out w something amazing as always so thank you in advance my love 💓

- mari

oh my god hello this took me thirty freaking years I'm SOOOO sorry but I'm here and I tried to write this so plzzzz let me know if this is awful :D (plz I wrote this in like an hour last night i haven't written chenle smut in so long i was going through withdrawals)

Description: You and Chenle visit your family, and things get frisky idk y'all lol this was a request :D

Genre: Smut *MDNI*

Word Count: 2,165

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader

Content Warnings: Chenle says pretty girl, slut, mentions of the possibility of being caught by parents, orgasm denial, a mirror is involved, teasing, yk the drill LOL it's all here yay

Juliet's Masterlist | thoughts are appreciated loll

smut below the cut!

All you wanted to do was have a seamless visit with your parents. You and Chenle were going to stay there for the weekend since you hadn’t seen your family in a while, so you figured your boyfriend would be on his best behavior. Oh, how wrong you were.

It started off simple—quick smacks on your ass, resting his warm hand on your thigh while his thumb rubs your skin. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing his attempts to turn you on are working, so you opt to ignore him completely.

It doesn’t work. He pushes and pushes your limits until you have to swat him away from you. Your last straw was when his touch trailed over to your inner thigh, up, up, up until his fingertips brushed your clothed core. You jolted so hard, you startled your parents at the dinner table. Chenle, of course, thought it was hilarious. He’d been wanting you bad all day, and it wasn’t his fault you wore a skirt.

What’s worse, is that when he was preparing to finger you under the table, he held a steady and respectful conversation with your dad. As much as you hate to admit it, the two sides of Chenle on display for you drove you crazy.

Your father leaves the table to answer an important call, and your mom chooses then to get up and grab the desert.

“C’mon, babe,” Chenle murmurs, tapping your leg. “Let me make you feel good.”

“Are you crazy? We’re with my parents, Chenle.”

He hums, dropping his head on your shoulder to easily press his lips to your neck. “I know you. You want me.”

“(Y/N), can you help me?” your mom calls from the kitchen.

“Coming!” you yell, quickly pulling yourself from Chenle and glaring at him the whole way out of the room.

You hate how right he is—how damp your panties are at the thought of him taking you here when your parents might hear. It should repulse you, but instead, you feel your entire body heat up at the thought.

Desert drags, and Chenle rubs the top of your leg where it meets your hip, back and forth while you squirm at the contact. If your parents notice how erratic you’ve become, they don’t mention it.

“Mom, did you, um, did you need any help cleaning up?”

“Oh, honey, that’s okay.” Your mother waves you off. “It’s getting late. You two have been traveling all day, we’ll get this and you get some rest.”

Chenle doesn’t even hide the smug look on his face when he intertwines your fingers together. “Thanks, I am exhausted.”

Bullshit. He wants to get you alone as soon as possible.

Next thing you know, you’re leading him upstairs to get him undressed. Although, you didn’t expect for it to lead you to your current predicament.

Chenle’s slender fingers slide into you easily with how wet you are. After teasing you all day, he’s got you dripping down onto the sheets. He moves slowly, staring at you smugly with his other hand covering your mouth. Your eyes roll back, and you fist the sheets as if that’ll stop the overwhelming need.

The walls of your childhood bedroom close in on you like yours close in around Chenle’s fingers, and everything starts to spin. He reaches deep inside, curling to find your spot. With his palm firm on your lips, your moan doesn’t make it past his skin. He chuckles, leaning close to your ear without messing with his pace.

“See, pretty girl? I knew you wanted it. Can’t stay off my cock even with your parents down the hall, huh?”

You mutter incoherently in your best attempt to spur him forward, to get him to fuck you as soon as possible, but it seems his evening of teasing is far from over. He places his thumb on your mouth instead, and you instinctively open up and swirl your tongue around it.

“Little fucking slut,” he tsks. “Can you stay quiet for me while I make you feel good?”

You nod fervently, lifting your hips to match his pace. Desperate to reach your end, you clench the bedspread harder to ground yourself. If you make a sound, you know he won’t continue.

He uses the wetness of your saliva to trail down from your mouth to your collarbone down to your breasts, watching you in a mix of wonder and awe as your nipples harden further beneath his touch. You let out a shaky sigh, but luckily for you, he doesn’t count that against you.

Despite his distraction, his fingers still brush against your spot with every steady thrust, and your mind reels from the pleasure, your orgasm just out of reach. He knows your body like the back of his hand at this point, so he’s well aware of what you need.

As he continues his venture down, the cold air sends chills all over you. He stops at your lower abdomen, rubbing his thumb against your skin.

“Remember,” he whispers. “Keep it down, alright?”

You don’t have time to reassure him before he nudges your clit. Inhaling sharply, you slap your own hand over your mouth.

“No.” He grabs your wrist and pulls your arm away. “Just fucking be good, you brat. Make a noise and you don’t get to cum.”

And he continues his work, rubbing your clit in steady, perfect circles while he pumps his fingers in and out of you. His self-control surprises even you, with the way he hasn’t fucked you yet. The bulge in his boxers strain, and you can practically taste the precum dripping from his tip already. You crave it so fucking badly, you almost forget you’re supposed to be quiet.

When you let out a low curse, the determined look on Chenle’s face turns to stone, and he stops his circles to land a smack on your sensitive bud instead. “Shut the fuck up, slut.”

Your body jerks, tears forming in your eyes, but you nod, so close to the brink it’s like you’re already there. The knot ties in your stomach almost as soon as his thumb is back on your clit, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip hard.

You’re so close, the warning signs of your orgasm becoming far too real to ignore. Lifting your hips, you’re desperate to match his pace, desperate to cum over and over again solely from his touch.

But just before the band of pleasure snaps, he abruptly removes his touch from you, leaving you to clench around nothing. You want to whine, to cry out for his attention, but you don’t dare when he warned you already.

“Get on the floor,” he tells you.

“The floor?” you ask breathlessly.

“Ass in the air, gonna show you how sluts get fucked when they don’t fucking listen.” He grips your thigh. “Hurry up, we don’t have all night.”

You leap up from your bed, eager to please the man who holds the key to your euphoria. The carpet digs uncomfortably into your knees as you arch your back, putting yourself on display for him. Your bed is much too creaky for anything other than missionary, and sometimes, even that’s enough to cause it to squeak if Chenle has anything to say about it.

His hands squeeze your ass, massaging you while he studies you. A quick smack has you shuddering again. His shuffle to take off the last of the clothing covering him is music to your ears, and you wiggle back against him to try to entice him further.

He grabs a pillow and tosses it to you, and you already know what it’s for. You take it gratefully, but you bite down on it in preparation of what’s to come. The thought of getting caught has wetness leaking down your thighs, and as he rubs his hard cock along your entrance to collect it, you’re already shaking. Being denied an orgasm already has every inch of you craving release. His tip brushes your clit, and you push back with a muffled whine.

“What if I just leave you like this?” he asks, dragging his nails along your back.

You shake your head and repeat over and over, “Please. Please.”

“How disappointed would your parents be if they saw you like this, huh? Just down the hall begging to be fucked like a whore…” He slides his tip in, his breath catching at the sensation.

Your chorus of pleas are muffled by the pillow, but you push yourself back, making him slide another inch inside you. Legs wobbling already, you ignore the burn of the carpet against your knees.

Finally, he gives you some reprieve. As slowly as he can manage, he opens you up with his cock. You whimper, eyes watering as you bury your head in the plush fabric below you, already slick with your saliva.

“You sure you’re ready, baby?” he asks breathlessly, nails digging into your hips. “One sound and we stop, got it?”

You can’t manage a response, not with the way he fills you so completely. Whatever he’s gonna give you, you need it.

The choice to move to the floor makes more sense as he gives you one reassuring squeeze to your waist. He thrusts slowly twice, groaning quietly at the feeling.

And then he really starts. His hips slam into yours, the sound of his skin slapping against yours is obvious and impossible to mask. You can barely breathe while he fucks you, your body jolting and the carpet rubbing against your knees. The pillow is drenched with your spit, and you’re biting down so hard your jaw starts to hurt. He pants behind you, his tip reaching your cervix with every rough thrust.

His cock pulses inside you, like he’s ready to burst at any given second. It’s so overwhelmingly good, tears stream down your face. Next thing you know, he’s wrapping his fingers around your neck and pulling you up until your back is against his chest. He squeezes tight enough to make sure no noises will escape you, but your brain clears long enough to see his motive.

The mirror stands in front of you, displaying your body as Chenle slides in and out of you at a steady pace. He leans forward, tightening his grip on your neck.

“See the mess you made?” He licks the shell of your ear. “You’re taking me so fucking easy right now, slut. Don’t think you’ve earned the right to cum.”

Whatever escapes your lips is muffled gibberish.

“I guess I’ll be nice.” His condescending tone sends a chill down your spine as his hand dips between your legs. All it takes is the slight brush of his fingertips to send you reeling over the edge, your body jerking as your orgasm takes you full-force. He doesn’t stop there, though, applying pressure to your clit and rubbing fast. Your vision blurs as a burst of wetness soaks your thighs.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, breaking his rough facade for the briefest moment while he processes what just happened.

He pulls out of you, much to your protest, and turns you on your back. Propping your legs up on his shoulders, he slides back inside with ease, his own eyes fluttering shut. He leans down and takes your mouth with his, the stretch in your legs almost as delicious as he tastes.

“Need to see that pretty face when I cum.” He nips your ear lobe, rocking his hips hard against yours.

Mind hazy from your orgasm, you stare at him in awe as his face contorts with pleasure with every thrust. When his pace becomes erratic, you know he’s close.

He moans lowly in your ear, pushing himself as deep as possible before he spills his load. Panting, he wastes no time in kissing you sweetly, gently as he releases your legs from their uncomfortable position. He rubs your thigh, humming into your mouth.

“You did so well,” he whispers. “You feeling okay? Was it too much?”

You still can’t speak, so with a smile, you shake your head and place a hand flat on his chest.

He pulls out slowly, a shaky breath escaping his lips as he does. A sheen of sweat covers him, the gentle starlight from the windows illuminating him just enough for you to see. He stands, puts his boxers on, and walks over to grab your towel.

You’re oversensitive, and as he spreads your legs again to clean you up, the rough fabric against your clit makes you jolt.

“I love you.” He kisses your forehead in an attempt to distract you from the mess he made. “You’re so perfect, you know that?”

You weakly smack his shoulder. “You did all of this at my parents’ house?”

He grins, scooping you up to help you onto your bed. “Don’t complain. The wet spot on the ground says you liked it.”

#nct dream #chenle #nct #nct dream smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #chenle smut #nct smut #nct dream chenle #chenle imagine #chenle scenario #chenle x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream scenario #nct dream imagines #nct hard hours

[jiveyuncle]

"Lance," Keith sounds breathless. "Back when we found my lion - the glowing symbols. What did you say about it?"

Lance is still staring hard at where Keith's hand rests on the control panel's screen, face scrunched in disbelief. "That is was written in code?"

Keith shakes his head. "No, no, about the Galra not being able to find it because of something to do with quintessence."

Lance's brow furrows further as he tries to recall what all he said so long ago, then his eyes flick up to meet Keith's. "Um? They were directions - quintessence infused." His lips purse as he tries to list everything. "The inscriptions would only be revealed in the presence of an Altean."

Keith removes his hand from the panel and the stars wink out. He strides toward Lance, mind racing. "Lance," Keith exhales. "I saw similar symbols back on Earth. Back when Hunk, Shiro, Pidge and I found the Green Lion in the cave."

Lance's eyes are flicking rapid-fire between Keith's, "But I wasn't there with you that time."

Keith grips Lance by the arms, hands squeezing tight. "Then why did the cave still light up?"

Lance almost looks as if he's stopped breathing.

Keith shifts his hold from Lance's arms, to hold his face. "The whole time I've been amazed at how much a couple of aliens look like us humans," Keith presses his forehead to Lance's, "but maybe I should've been thinking about how much we look like you."

And Keith can see it - in Lance's face - the moment the full meaning of everything clicks, and then Keith's being crushed in a bone-breaking hug. A wet laugh finds its way into the crook of Keith's neck. "Allura and I weren't the only ones to survive."

Keith raises his arms to squeeze Lance back just as tightly and buries his nose in his hair. "I think we're gonna need another look at the cave back on Earth."

A little glimpse at the Humans-are-the-crossbreed-descendants-of-Alteans-that-fled storyline reveal. I tried to layer so many hints and foreshadowing throughout the fic, and the reveal was just so satisfying to write. Idk if it’s been done before (probably) as I joined this fandom wayyy late but this AU is clogging all my brain space. I’m feral. If you ask me, I will scream your ear off about how this fills a ton of plot holes in canon and strengthens some of the choices made by different characters. Actually, I’ll rant about it on the next post since it’ll be the last batch of artwork for the fic. I’m so excited to draw more stuff within the AU. I just have so many thoughtsssss about how everything connectsssss ahhh

Fic: Sure and Indelible on AO3:

#klance #keith kogane #lance mcclain #altean lance #voltron #vld #voltron legendary defender #black paladin lance #fanart #fanfic #sure and indelible

[ahegato]

Hey ahegato! I hope you are well :) I've just discovered your account and I love your posts (especially the fill you up post and how they act around children which was so cute!!). I was wondering whether you could write about how the brothers and mains are like when its their first time with a female MC who had been a virgin?

I can't wait to read more of your posts!

author note: Oh my gosh, my first request, I’m so nervous and excited!! Pretty fitting that my first request is about something being the first time. I’m sooo sorry that it’s so late, I’ve been balls deep in other fandoms

SUPER IMPORTANT SIDE NOTE: so I decided to do it like this, and I might keep doing that with all requests I receive: I’ll write for the characters requested, BUT I won’t post them all at the same time, or else you guys are gonna have to wait for like 84 years to get the finished product 😭

So instead I’ll post them all individually (UNLESS the headcanons are very short and don’t include fics) and just link the other ones in it when they get finished. that way you guys still get some kind of content every now and then!

[NSFW] Obey Me - fem!MC first time with Mammon

m.list

TW: nsfw, first time sex, loss of virginity, swearing Characters: Mammoney Writer: ahegato

Context:  The MC would probably be pretty nervous since it’s the first time and stuff like that. Idk I lost my virginity when I was like 17 and now I’m really old, so I barely remember it. I just recall worrying about the pain while also knowing it was common, that’s about it lol

You/your pronouns, so basically gender neutral, bUT MC will have female bits.

Anyway, have an awesome day (that’s an order) and I hope you enjoy it!

lucifer (cumming soon) | mammon (ur here) | leviathan (cumming soon) | satan (cumming soon) | asmodeus (cumming soon) | beelzebub (cumming soon) | belphegor (cumming soon) | diavolo (cumming soon) | barbatos (cumming soon) | simeon (cumming soon) | solomon (cumming soon)

MAMMON:

turns out that “bad boy mammon” is actually super romantic

huh who knew? literally everyone in the whole devildom

if you weren’t aware of how much of a softie he is, you clearly missed him in the entire story

when he finds out you’re a virgin, he gets a little excited

he’s really going to be your first man, huh?

mammon is incredibly nervous about your first time together

but instead of freezing up and not daring to do anything *cough* levi *cough*, he instead just gets reallllllly sensitive to touch

give him a handjob or oral, he’ll tremble and moan like a pornstar

really just kiss him and he won’t know what to do with himself

he wants you to be in control of the pace to be extra safe, so he’ll ask you to be on top

also because it’s hot, but he won’t tell you that (you’ll figure it out eventually anyway)

you start with both of you sitting up and you on his lap

will at some point take one of your hands and refuse to let go

if you cry from the pain, he’ll instantly go into comfort mode

wrapping his arms around you and stroke your back, telling you that you’re doing great and to just wait for a bit longer

he gets extremely lovey dovey and emotional when he’s about to finish, it’s so obvious that he wouldn’t even have to say anything for you to notice, but he still will

even after finishing, he won’t let go of you

doesn’t matter if you’re all sticky from the sweat, you’re his and he’s yours now

might as well be glued together, because he sure is acting like that’s the case

he feels very embarrassed afterwards because he’s not used to being so vulnerable, so pls reassure him

As you finally sink down onto him, he lets out a long, breathy, high-pitched moan. His nails are pressing into your waist, not so hard to draw blood but enough to turn you on even more. The way you’re squeezing him while sitting on his lap, your hands on his shoulders to support yourself, is addictive. But despite that, what’s taking up the most space in his mind is the love he’s feeling for you, as cheesy as it sounds, and the intimate moment you’re experiencing together. He almost gets a little teary at the thought. However, he gets snapped out of it when you begin to move, lifting yourself off of him before sinking back down again, and he lets out a surprised groan. He looks down between your bodies, watching as his cock disappears into you, moaning at the sight. His hands on your waist travel down to your hips, assisting you in your movements. He never wants to let go of you, and he pulls you closer, leaning over to breathe in your scent, causing his dick to twitch inside of you. Mammon has no shame at this point, he’ll bare his neck for you to bite and suck on. If you don’t get the point he’ll literally beg for it, and if he walks out of there without even a single mark, he’ll whine like a baby. He wants physical proof that he’s yours and you’re his. If you let him mark you, he’ll moan long and high-pitched as he does it. If you mark him, he’s legit whimpering and twitching underneath you. He’s drowning in you, kissing any part of your body that he can reach, meeting your movements with his own, and sometimes just gazing at you with a look of pure love. “MC I... I love you... I love you so much...” he huffs, pulling you as close to him as possible. He looks you in the eyes, mere inches away from each other. “I...I’m about to cum...” As he finally gets pushed over the edge, he sinks you down onto his cock as far as he can, holding onto you tightly as he whimpers words of affection in your ear. Once he’s down from his high, the memories of what he said and did return to his brain, and he gets super flustered. “I-I did not just say all that, ya hear me? Don’t tell anyone!” he stutters, suddenly all worried about this so-called reputation. “Of course I won’t tell anyone! But you did say all that, and I loved it.” you reply with a smile. “Y-you did?” the demon asks, looking back at you with a surprised expression on his face. “Of course I did! I loved seeing this side of you, and I love you.” The blush on his cheeks intensifies, but the demon visibly relaxes, a smile forming on his face in return. He cuddles up to you, fully intending to hold you hostage in his bed for the rest of the night.

✦ 30/11/2023 (Im so sorry lmao) - 16/04/2024 ✦ ahegato ✦

#headcanons #obey me mammon #om! mammon #mammon x reader #mammon #smut #mammon smut #mammoney #obey me #obey me shall we date

[nanaslutt]

THANK YOU GUYS FOR ALL THE LOVE RECENTLY N TYSM FOR ALL THOSE LOVIN MY SMAUS :,) ive been so busy lately n its hard to write long fics more often but smaus are so quick and fun to write and you guys love them sm it makes me so happy n takes a lot of stress off <333

as for the last ask, i just always have a lot of ideas/ headcannons of characters at all times idk how they get into my head lol. i sometimes use inspo from art or something that happened in the show canonically (ex: nanami pulling hair) n it plants a fic sprout in my brain

ofc i use as looooooot of asks from my inbox as well, id say abt 95% of my fic ideas come from there :]] so thank you. and i google synonyms for different words frequently… maybe 10+ a day, i just like being able to be literate when i need to be and learning new things is interesting to me :3

sorry i don’t have a ton of tips :( ive been reading and writing for 12+ years so i just naturally learned how to structure a story and know how to extend certain parts of it. it wasn’t easy but over time you’ll learn to do the same!!

(i still have 15 mini picture books i made when i was 8 and they’re actually coherent lol. art, plot, rising action, conflict, resolution, the whole shebang)

#yapper alert #ily guys

[jubiilee13]

hi babes I saw you begging for requests for mike schmidt so I decided to send my own request to you… as cliche as it is, could you write an angsty misunderstanding fic where basically mike is over-working himself to death and barely making time for you and you think you did something wrong but it turns out mike was just tired af. It can be smut or fluff since I don’t know what you really like to write. Sorry if this request is bad I’m not good at asking for things😭😭

-anon

anon ily ty for the request 😻😻

this may be a lil bad bc I’m sick rn but I hope u still enjoy 🫶

warnings: tiny mention of blood, angst, angy mike, sad reader, alludes to a little smut at the end but yeah

lets just say for this abby is at a um... sleepover or smth idk i forgot to include her

didnt check this for grammatical errors so my bad if it sucks lmao

—

you and mike didn’t fight often

i mean you never really had reason to

but lately mike had been weird, he had been… distant.

mike often had his rough days, as did you, but this time was different.

every morning when he returned home instead of his usual warm embraces, you’d been receiving the cold shoulder, at most a few sentences spoken between the two of you before he dragged himself off to bed.

you were worried to say the least, you knew you had done nothing wrong, yet something in your gut made you wonder if you did.

so you decided today was the day you were going to talk to him about it.

boy was that a bad idea...

the moment mike stepped out of his bedroom he spotted you, anxiously fidgeting as your eyes met his own

"we need to talk mike" you mumble, clearly not looking forward to having this conversation.

mike rolls his eyes, "what y/n" he replies, attitude evident in his tone, yet the attitude is weak, and you note his face is just a bit paler than usual, the bags under his eyes more evident, something was off.

"whats been going on with us mike?" you ask, voice trembling "did... did i do something? you- you've been so distant..."

"its nothing y/n, stop worrying" he says with a scoff, and you bite your lip.

"mike you dont have to lie to me" you say softly, extending your hand out to him to soothe him.

Then something inside him snaps, that movement- that feeling. he couldnt take it.

"God damn it y/n i said nothing is wrong! you never listen! just leave me alone! you clearly only make things worse!" he cries out, and your body freezes.

"o-oh" is all you can say, retracting your trembling hand, clearly in shock

"o-okay um... um i-i'll leave you be..." you mumble under your breath, trying to hide your emotions until you were out of his sight.

you scurry away, biting your lip so hard it draws blood, and the moment you enter your bedroom the tears escape.

you shut the door behind you, leaning against it and sliding to your knees, hand reaching to cover your mouth to hide the sobs.

what had you done?

did you upset him?

is he gonna leave?

so many questions flooded your mind all at once

it was so overwhelming, all you wanted was him... but right now that was the one thing you couldnt have.

so you sat there, leaning against the door of your room for god knows how long.

eventually when no more tears could fall, you lead yourself to your bed, a bed that had been untouched for a few months now due to you always sleeping with mike, and after a few more shaky breaths, you slipped into a uneasy slumber.

As you slept, mike took himself for a drive, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles faded to white.

he was angry

he was tired

he just wanted to be home

it slowly started to dawn on him that upon his arrival home earlier, his anger had been misdirected.

he wasnt mad at you

he loved you

god- you just wanted to help

why couldnt he see that?

he lets out a shaky sigh, punching his steering wheel as he lets out a few grunts of anger (much to the dismay of the car infront of him)

he decides to leave you be for the time being, and he leads him self on down the winding road, until he comes across an empty parking lot.

he lets himself settle there for a while, staring into the dark abyss in front of him.

eventually he decides to call you, and when you dont pick up... he calls again.

and again.

and... again....

and 12 more times.

he was worried to say the least, what if you left him? what. if you didnt love him anymore?

after the final call he places his phone in his pocket, running a hand through his hair as he starts up the car again and heads home.

in the meantime you were at home, tossing and turning, unable to find a true sense of saftey in your own sheets and god was it horrible.

you didnt notice the buzzing of your phone, nor the vibration any time left another voicemaiil.

so you lay on your back, your teary eyes staring up at the ceiling.

thats when you heard the front door open, the jingling of mikes house keys alongside his work ones

maybe he didnt leave

did he come back for you?

maybe he-

your thoughts are interrupted however by a gentle, almost silent knock at your door. you want to open it, you really do, but you're scared.

for once you put aside your fear and you sit up, quietly tiptoeing over to the door and cracking it open just enough to meet mikes eyes.

both of your teary eyes meet one another, and something snaps within both of you

your grip on the handle goes slack as mike gently pushes further on the door, and the moment it opens enough for him to enter, youre surrounded by him

he kisses you gently, his hands wrapping around you, and you two hold the kiss until you eventually pull away to gasp for air

"im so sorry- i never meant to snap at you baby- i-i- im just so exhausted- work is so hard- i-i never meant to take it out on you- i love you so muc y/n- i"

you cut him off by kissing him again, this kiss growing more heated, your body pressing against his

"its ok" you whisper when you pull away, your foreheads resting against one another

"we'll be ok" you whisper

those 3 words are repeated for the rest of the night, along with other words of praise and affirmation.

the two of you love each other, and tonight it shows.

just as youre about to fall into a warm, peaceful sleep, mike presses a kiss against your damp forehead.

"i love you"

that was all you needed to hear in order to slip into slumber in his embrace.

--

yayayayya mike

i hope that was good

ok ily

bye pookster

#mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #michael afton x reader #michael afton

[supertrxshwrites]

This is a continuation of my angsty Jason Todd x Reader fic post ..this isn’t all of it idk if I’m going to write the rest lemme know what yall think. I listened to “ceilings” by Lizzy McAlpine several times while writing this so I recommend doing that anyway enjoy the angst.

𓆩♡𓆪

During the fall and winter Jay always made it a point to drive me home from school instead of us walking. Something about shitheads waiting in the shadows. We finally pulled up to my house, he had been super excited that day, he kept telling me how Bruce was gonna let him do something he’d been begging for, for like ever. Before I got out of the car it was different with us though. When I turned to say bye he had this look in his eyes. It was serious but half joking almost like he was going off to war. I didn’t take it seriously..I probably should have.

“ I’m gonna be gone for about a week..don’t forget about me while I’m gone” he says with a laugh his eyes and nose crinkling as he smiles

‘ I’d never’ I say softly punching him in the shoulder

“Good..because there’s something I want to talk to you about when I get back but I don’t wanna spoil it by leaving” he says with a grin before looking down

“Just promise me you’ll be okay while I’m gone” his eyes were staring into my soul like he was searching for something more than an answer

‘I’ll be fine Jay promise’ I held my fist up for him to bump it

“You’re doing Knucks so that means you can’t break it” he says before fist bumping me

‘I know I know..alright I gotta go before my mom starts calling me’ I say before getting out of the car.

‘Be safe..’ I say as I grab my backpack and head inside.

Jay was so excited about his trip with Bruce, hell I wish I knew where he was going. But I guess it’s like a father son bonding thing. I didn’t want to ruin his excitement I just have a weird feeling about it.

I smile and wave as he drives off down the road, his tires kicking up slush.

I kick the snow from my boots and head inside before going to work on homework.

The next week felt like years, I mean I have other friends but when your best friend isn’t around nothings the same. Eating lunch was boring, the classes we had together weren’t interesting anymore and even after school. I took the bus because I knew Jason would lose his shit if I walked home.

After the first few days I started to feel this funk, something worse than seasonal depression. Something deeper, something scarring.

I found myself in my bed staring up at the ceiling, its old and dusty and peely. The fan going slowly. I can’t help but replay the car ride from school before Jay left.

‘He wanted to tell me something..’ I say sitting up

I shake my head before plopping back down on the bed.

“He’ll tell me when he gets back.”

Thursday felt like Christmas Eve so excited for what’s to come I had been waiting and waiting for Jay to finally get back. The school day went by fast and when I got home I actually ate instead of sulking by the window like a sad puppy.

“Friday was the day! Friday Jason will be back and everything won’t be so boring” I say as I wash my face in the bathroom.

I pull on some shorts and an old Tshirt and climb into bed. Too excited to sleep I scroll online for a bit before dozing off.

The next morning I got ready as fast as I could. Grabbed my backpack and rushed out the door expecting to see Jason’s red Nissan sitting on the curb.

But nothing.

I took the bus, still excited. I got to class early and saved a spot for him.

Nothing.

“Okay maybe he’s coming back late from his trip” I say a bit nervous but I brush it off

As the rest of the day goes on I feel a hard pang of disappointment in my chest. Crushing my heart like a soda can.

I waited at lunch.

Nothing

Even at the end of the day I waiting for him to pull up. I missed the bus I waited so long.

Nothing.

I found myself walking home. I knew Jason would be mad about it but he’d be here cussing me out as he slowly drove next to me.

Nothing.

I step in a big puddle, my shoes and socks aresoaked the entire time of me walking home.

I get home and drop my backpack at the door, I kick my shoes and socks off and run upstairs slamming the door.

“A week..my ass” I say angrily going to sleep.

The next day felt worse, then it was days and then another week. Until one day there was a knock at the door after school.

“JASON!” I run down the stairs almost breaking my neck getting down them. To finally open the door.

“Where have you been oh my god dude-“ my excitement is cut off when I’m met with a familiar frame in all black.

“..Bruce?” My stomach twists it feels sour. That same bad feeling from before when I got out of the car the day him and Jason left for their trip.

“Y/N” he sounds cold and robotic. More than usual. Almost hurt

I yell for my mom and we all sit down in the living room.

“Where’s Jason? It’s been three weeks!” I say crossing my arms angrily

“Uhm..look..y/n” there’s fear in his voice

“What is he sick or something?..spit it out Bruce!” I say impatiently

“Jason’s…gone.”

His words felt like a trigger. I felt my heart burst into a billion pieces in my chest like an airbag. This car crash got worse because Bruce got up and left. No explanation, nothing just.

“Jason’s gone.”

#jason todd x reader #supes writes #jason todd #jason Todd angst #supes speaks #supertrxshwrites #dc comics #batfam

[gunmetal-ring]

anon again. i'm sorry that i keep coming to you with this depressing messages but you seem like one of the few sane ppl in this fandom and i appreciate your honesty.

truth is im feeling really disillusioned with hellcheer lately. we don't have a lot of "canon" content so after a while, it gets tiring going thru the same 2 scenes over and over again (especially when one of them involves chrissy's death). ive been relying on fandom but it seems like it's slowed down. fics arent updated as frequently, not a lot of new artwork.

heck, even joe and grace have moved on. joe's career is taking off. grace is leaving acting. it just feels like everything that happened last summer has come to an end :(

Aw anon thats okay. Ty for thinking of my feelings though 💓 (and also im flattered that you think im sane lmao)

Unfortunately its the way things go, especially with small ships, especially especially in a fandom as hostile as this one is. People come together and build community and share their love for characters and then g(r)o(w) their separate ways again.

But not everybody does! You and me, for example. And ive got plenty of hellcheer mutuals that seem perfectly content to draw, write, and rb their little hearts out.

I for one am absolutely astounded that theres even a fandom for hellcheer, let alone one with such talent and breadth and depth of love! Our characters had 2 scenes. Our girl was killed just as it all began. Our boy died with her name on his lips. In all likelihood we will never see them together on our screens again.

But somehow. Those ~10 minutes managed to foster an entire community of people and keep us engaged and in love w the characters for almost a year at this point! With no dangling promises or false hope or anything! Like we all know the score and we still go hard for hellcheer. Incredible.

Idk maybe it's just bc ive only had brainworms like this for 2 other ships and 1 of them is even smaller and the other one is a clusterfuck of unimaginable proportions, so im a little biased in terms of community/fandom, but im just like... idk. I think its really incredible thats all. And a testament to the very real power and truth of hellcheer 🥰

All i can say anon is that the best way to keep a fandom/ship going is engagement. Likes on tumblr and kudos on ao3 are great. But whats even better and more motivating (and i say this as a fic writer/meme shitposter so im speaking the total truth lol) is reblogs and comments. Tell people how much you love their work and how much it means to you, it goes a very long way. And on the flip side of that - stay out of the infighting. All it does is sap your mental energy and the fandom infighting bullshit is a major contributor to why people leave. The negativity and bitterness warp your perspective and make it really hard to remember what we're here for - it's not anti-st*ddie or anti-qu*nn stans or anti-anti-hellcheer or what the fuck ever. We're here for hellcheer!

Sorry my $0.02 is now $2.00 bc i ramble lol its a fatal flaw of mine. Anyway im sorry if this is annoyingly positive or dismissive but im in a strangely upbeat mood rn so there you have it

#im not getting into the whole joe/grace career stuff bc ive talked abt it a million times and i dont want to invite more bad faith anons #op #hellcheer #ask #anon

[theold-ultraviolence]

Hey besties! I debated whether or not I should make a post about it cause I don't want to seem dramatic lfjlskgsjdg, but I figured a lot of people follow me for my writing, and well, there hasn't been any writing going on lately (lol) and I don't even know if there will be, at least for a long while. I think I just might go into a little bit of a hiatus there because, I don't feel like writing anymore for a number of reasons, mostly because this year has been incredibly tough for me and my brain is absolutely mush. I want to write, but I can't physically bring myself to do it, even if the will is there and the ideas are overflowing. I'll still be here and everything (I have never made a side blog, all my silliness goes into one same place lmao), and if questions about my aus come up and stuff, I'll love to reply to those and brainstorm/fangirl about ideas together, but I can't say the same about actually posting fully formed stories.

Another thing is that I'm kinda burned out from fandom. Life is hard as it is and while fandom in general is amazing there are just parts of that suck, even from a distance. The discourse, the cliquey-ness, the hate people are receiving, the drop in interaction... I've always been cruising through different fandoms and avoid drama because I'm always in my little corner, but even while keeping to my corner, this is the first time that without even engaging in it, its found me? An interaction I had some months ago with someone just left a really bad taste and a weird feeling about posting stuff and not knowing with whom I could talk to, so I just distanced myself from it. Which is also kind of a bummer because I don't think I even had that much of a presence in the beginning? I don't want to seem like I'm whining, but, the reality is that my name rarely ever gets brought up in rec lists/posts and such, so it's kinda daunting to think that my work may not have as much transcendence in the fandom anyway when I've been here for a long while, and it does feel a little bit like, feeling left out, which bums me out. But ultimately, worrying about being active and posting fics regularly is just, such a silly thing to worry about when there are other things happening in life anyway.

This is not to say that I'm not acknowledging the people that have supported me from the beginning and continue to do so. If you've reblogged my stuff, or contacted me via dm or ye old inbox, know I freaking love and adore and appreciate you and that's what's exactly what's given me the motivation to write when things were tougher for me this year. It truly, truly means the world to me, and I consider you a bestie. It's so freaking special to me, every single time, when you reach out to let me know you enjoyed something I posted or that you're having fun with my ocs. So this part of it all is why I wished I was more active and that I had the energy to keep writing to interact with you, but I'm just not in the headspace for it right now.

And idk I just might be feeling a bit sensitive these days and becoming a bigger hermit each day, Ewan Mitchell style (lol), but I had it in the back of my mind that there are people that follow me for my writing, and that have even requested fics after I closed them, so I wanted to give these moots a heads up. I do have a lot of ideas I was excited about, not to mention tons of wips that have been left gathering dust so maybe in the near future I can find some time to write. I'm just not feeling inspired or motivated at all these days. If you're sticking around despite my blog being a whole mish-mash of spooky things and whatever blorbo is rotting my brain at the moment, you're seriously the best and I love you for it.

#don't reblog

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

2, 9, 15 for end of year asks?

okay IM DOING IT !!! ugh I’m so sorry I always answer these so late and so LONG but here I am. let’s do this…

2. favorite fic of the year

oh this is HARD I read such good fic this year it’s not fair. WAIT. are we talking a fic I’ve written or a fic I’ve read? I’m doing both to be safe. for both fandoms TWICE! here we go…

gravity falls

written? midnight’s call, of course, as well as the beginnings of its sequel. it’s just so detectable and whumpish and ‘ford wants/should be the main character here but honestly he isnt’ energy that it’s not funny. it’s also the longest wip that I’ve completed thus far (though it’s looking to be easily surpassed) AND it was my first wip ever AND one of the first fics I put on ao3 at all! so! it’s pretty special to me!! :))

as for read, god you can’t make me choose. what had me squealing the most…. it’s been a while and yet there are some that immediately come to mind. do I have to pick?? UHHHHH I’ll have to go between Another World, Another Time by jikanet_tanaka and Interproximal Gradations by callipraxia, which is the third part of the For Want Of A Jailbreak series (sorry, I really couldn’t choose mshdhsh) they both have similar vibes yet such different plots that I can’t help but group them in my head sometimes but they are ALSO some of the most high-quality heartbreaking emotionally investing fiction I’ve ingested on this mortal coil. like BRO. it’s been like six months since I’ve read both and I can still remember certain scenes and the plot and other things I loved so CLEARLY. for example: in another world, they hit ford over the head a LOT. like I can remember three individual times lmao, and two of them were by the same person! the first was entering the strange dimension in the beginning to jumpstart the plot, the second was overexertion/being wacked by a blinded ex-jheselbraum disciple after escaping an attempted to be built PORTAL ROOM in a high tech bill-esque fortress, and the third was during an unsuccessful raid for parts for a resistance the people of the dimension he and the pines have ended up by the same ex-disciple. does that make sense? possibly not! but don’t you want to read to find out? ;) /lh

good omens

written? it would’ve been do you remember hanging up the stars had it been completed by now (which is Impossible lmao) so I’m gonna have to with an angel who goes along with heaven, because 1) it’s my favorite era *medieval/wessex 537* 2) it’s heavy crowley whump 3) I wrote it over two months ago and I can still read it without wanting to die. like I see the flaws, but they are easily overlooked because CROWLEY WHUMP!!!!! I WROTE THAT!!! it’s the ultimate ‘writing what I want to read’ assortment. augh

read? well I haven’t actually gotten to the life-changing longfic on par with the gf fic. I have them marked for later, definitely, but I haven’t read anything past 30k in this fandom yet so I suspect there’s more earth shattering shit out there. atm, though, Ithink I’m going with The Ark by rfsmiley. holy fuck, where do I begin. I have a love/hate relationship with dystopia—love because we get to think about the inevitability of failure, death, and humanity degraded down to pure survival and the things that make us human are a luxury, and hate because we have to think about the inevitability of failure, death, and humanity degraded down to pure survival and the things that make us human are a luxury. it’s just so bleak yet colorful at the same time. media like tlou is triple s tier. so reading a fic like that… safe to say it broke me. they made it to the stars!!!! they cherish every orange slice! every book! they still love each other!! they knew this was gonna happen and they stuck around!!! UGH!!!!! AND THE FACT THE THING’S CALLED THE FUCKINGGGGG ARK. THE ARK. IRONY. IRONY. JAIL FOR AUTHOR RFSMILEY! JAIL FOR A THOUSAND YEARS!

9. favorite creator of the year

okay back to something more soft. first off; I can’t pick. firstly bc idk if it means a fan artist or writer or professional people like filmmakers and show runners. secondly bc there are so many ! how could I pick! also I’d feel back for picking one person over another thats just my brain is wired, and for that I apologize. so moving on ! ty for asking though <3

15. favorite headcanon of the year

god how do you PICK that!!!! thinking…….. AGAIN, it’s between ‘ford is autistic’ and (i’m sorry if this small and silly) ‘aziraphale and crowley like holding hands’ (though that’s fucking canon, but I’m headcanoning it). just. they’re both so important to me. ford is me and aziraphale and crowley love each other. ugh. UGH. thanks for the ask dude, and I’m gonna go jump into a hole now ✨

#ask game #hath are perceived #more proof that I love talking about fic more than anything

[silk-scarlet-ribbons]

I binge-read (which, I'll admit, doesn't do your pacing justice. Planning on rereading it slower lol) your work "children of the stars" and i have. so many (positive) thoughts

I don't usually read sa recovery fics coz I feel like it's common for authors to emphasize the pain more than the recovery-- which, coz fanfic is usually used to vent, isn't bad per se, its just not my thing -- but i was really pleasantly surprised by yours. I love how you express how fucked Tim's situation is while in Jason's POV coz you never really take away from it, while still portraying the distress that he feels and the forced (by law) compliance that often comes with SA by authority figures. How Jason has to walk himself through putting the kid over his anger is gut-wrenchingly amazing (esp with taking the Pit into account), and how Jason works on himself and is generally happier for/because of Tim genuinely made me have to stand up in certain parts. It shows how much Jason doesn't want his own experiences to repeat (both with his alluded to childhood, and with Bruce) and proves how different he is to the character Tim's initially been threatened with. That eventually crescendoing into him calling the exact person he's so cautious of being like??? Actually made me want to die (in a good way).

You also make sure to still express that Tim is a child, which I really appreciated coz i feel like when younger people go through that, it tends to be made into a "step into maturity". Tim just. God, I cried so hard at the "I'll be brave until you get there". The idea that he thinks it'll happen again contrasted with the trust he has in Jason is so aauuuugggghh

Also?? I really really related to Dick in this particular work because of how you portrayed his own reactions and experiences. Coping by taking on responsibility and then having to shed that abruptly when someone else has experienced a similar situation was something I really really liked your approach to. Especially after he finds that Tim has the same/similar trigger to him?? Every different experience with SA that you wrote hit so hard. Definitely one of my favorite reps so far. God. I love all of your character writing. DUDE ALSO WITH BRUCE?? ALFRED?? MARCO?? You described all of the bat's grief and longing for what was so welllll.

Just. Really really refreshing read, 100% gonna go through the rest of your works. Sorry if this was long winded or annoying lol, feel free to disregard if you want to. Either way, thank you so much for posting that (for free!) and I look forward to future chapters if you write any more :)

in case you were wondering, anon, this reply is so late because i spent the last week crying over it <3 /lh

Ohhh man oh man. OH MAN. OH MAN! this is honestly so kind,,, jkjkjdfkjdf Jason and Tim's journeys in CotS as they try to rationalize with what happened to them while still allowing themselves to be juvenile, somehow, was basically a cornerstone in the fic, and I'm so beyond excited and grateful that there are people who genuinely enjoyed that aspect of it. AND DICK, MY BELOVED.... I could never leave him out of it either, I love that guy.

It just means the world to me that you enjoyed this so much? Idk it's like the horrors of being perceived but they're not horrors, they're joys. The joys of having my fic perceived. Grief is one of my favorite things to write for how powerful it is, and getting this kind of feedback only makes me want to keep going (especially now, when I've been hitting a dearth of creativity, lol).

I have one more official chapter planned for CotS--- it's proving to be the hardest to write, because on my life I hate finishing things. Sometimes I can't finish things. But this makes me want to finish it just to give this fic's wonderful, wonderful readers a conclusion.

This was not annoying at all-- I genuinely read it, like, seven-eight times. It was an absolute light for my entire week. Never apologize for doing this for the works you love, I promise you we are reading and we are cherishing.

#fic talk #children of the stars art #anon ask #ask scar #thank you so much op #you are genuinely a light #<3333

[possibilistfanfiction]

i love that you've been making a lot of ur avatrice fics a subtle (or very UNSUBTLE) ode to mascs/butch lesbians. and an ode to being queer in general. i think my fave things to read lately have been works like that; where the characters aren't just queer, but happy to be queer, relieved to be queer, or saved by being queer. and in terms of gender expression and queerness its something that i've had a hard time reconciling with myself, but the way you explore it through bea is refreshing and helpful for me, someone who's been out for 8 years and still sweats when deciding what shirts to buy myself, or sometimes how to even just walk when i go outside

honestly i never know what like general reactions will be but everyone has been so lovely! i think it's like — fundamentally so important to me that bea was never ever made to be femme! like canonically she's attractive to women in the show!! she has her little slacks!! & she's not like masc/butch explicitly but at the same time i'm like... she's never gotten to choose for herself either! & maybe she would! she could if she wanted! a little knight at the campfire, you know

& yah it's hard!! i've been out for over a decade & have gotten to have top surgery & be in a generally v safe & queer city + a wonderful marriage & community & like... i still cry over pants!! it's hard to be in a world that wasn't built for you, no matter how happy it is

BUT that being said yes to me queerness is the holiest thing in the whole world!! like whew, queerness DOES save the world; it is a relief & it is a joy & it is a miracle!

& i think, for me, at least, when i write bea, it's rly important to use the word lesbian for sure, but i also think like... there is something so so so beautiful about butches & dykes!!! & at least part of my journey has been falling in love with those words & that history & that deep joy. so in my fics i love writing bea getting to have some of that freedom & healing very specifically around like... not being femme!! she's a lesbian!!! maybe one day she would love the word dyke & all the gentle power it has held for so long. i don't really want it to be subtle bc i don't actually think after a few years of therapy & the world's most enthusiastic partner that bea would ever want anyone to think she's straight lol

& like god... i made myself emotional w a suit or a pair of pants & an older dyke where u just are like... oh. i can exist like this, so happy & so myself & so loved, for so long. & ava is wonderful so it's just kind of lovely to imagine bea just like... getting a masc haircut w the full freedom to love it or hate it bc ava is just :) i love you!!!!! & bea has never gotten to see if she would even Like that on herself before. bea trying on men's ("men's") clothes, picking out cologne bc she likes the way it smells better than perfume, etc etc etc. & in addition to her little button downs & slacks like... what would she want to wear during a lazy day at home? what would she want to wear to brunch on a sunday morning? ava is just in love so there's so, so many choices that open up to her!! she gets to just settle into what makes her happy & all the ways that's fluid & graceful & changing, none of which are defined by expectations of shutting the queer part of yourself off. all the beautiful expansiveness of queerness & this really gorgeous masculinity that's just There to explore. idk, it's wonderful lol & i feel like that freedom is just, for me, really nice to get to write. obviously if other ppl feel differently, that's also totally cool, but yeah, soft butch beatrice in all those variations forever

#give beatrice a hoodie 2k23 #honestly i feel like any aesthetic bea has or explores ava is so into lol