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#what IS quickly in the time span of your life
simpjaes · 3 months
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paid in & paid off
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Jay made the mistake of paying his best friend to date you, it was a big mistake. He only did it to get you away from a different man who wasn’t treating you right, and because he couldn’t do it himself. The fact that his best friend breaks the rules and decides to catch feelings drives him up a fucking wall. Why? Because Jake should know better than to go as far as sleeping with his girl, or rather...erm, his step-sister.
 ៸៸៸ sim jake x afab reader | park jongseong x afab reader 
 ៸៸៸ minors dni
 ៸៸៸ wordcount: 30k
 ៸៸៸ genre: college break au, summer setting , smut, stepcest 
 ៸៸៸ content tags: angst, smut, fluff, more dominant jay, inexperienced jake, infidelity(?), jealous and possessive behavior, risky sex, jay is mean, jake is a total loser posing as a dude who knows how to pick up girls. reader has hair that can be grabbed and pulled during smut scenes.
 ៸៸៸ !WARNINGS!: dub-con, step-cest, jay is a narcissist, manipulation, possessive behavior, use of degrading names such as: dumb, stupid, whore, and slut. i am not responsible for your inability to consume the right content for you. 
 ៸៸៸ side characters: sunghoon as your ex boyfriend, heeseung as your ex boyfriend’s best friend 
 ៸៸៸ a/n: thank u for 1k followers <3 lets just call this one a late new years gift and a thank u for indulging me! btw, this isn’t edited!
៸៸៸ nsfw tags under cut
៸៸៸ nsfw tags: jake is a boob guy, big dick jake, thick dick jay, degradation, finger fucking, doggy style, mating press, unprotected sex, hair pulling, pussy eating, crying, being pinned down, but also!!!, soft and passionate fucking, riding, marking out, blowjob/deepthroating
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jay knew his dad was quick to love, but quick to marry wasn’t really something he was expecting. It took the span of a single semester for him to not only learn that his father had a new girlfriend, but that he was eloping with her, meaning, Jay would be coming home for the summer to an entirely different home life.
He knew nothing of this woman and barely even knew what her name was but it’s not that big of a deal to him, considering he’s out of the house anyway save for holidays and summer breaks. It’s not like he’s going to have to deal with it too often. Afterall, he’s an adult, and so is his father. If anything, the man deserves to feel some love after sending Jay away to one of the best colleges around. Why does it matter that the marriage happened so quickly? 
It doesn’t. 
It’s much the same for you, if not the exact same thought process on the way your mother calls you and dotes on her new husband as if she’s one of your best friends calling you after a hook-up. You’re even a bit excited to head home once finals are over to see your much-missed mother and her new husband. 
Your mother is more detailed in her descriptions of the new life though. Her husband is tall, he’s handsome, he has money, he has a son with the highest GPA on his campus. You weren’t too inclined to process the information at the time though, considering she had called you dead in the middle of crunch time for finals. 
All you know is, your mother is happy and you’re happy for her. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Why the fuck are you here?” Jay asks upon returning home and walking through the front door.
The first thing he noted was that there is a girl sitting on his father’s couch, and she’s far too young to be his new wife. Upon her turning to face him, presumably to see who is walking into the house, he notes that it’s you. 
“No fucking way.” You start, standing up and brushing off your legs of imaginary dust. “You’re the son my mom mentioned?”
Jay looks at you with a bit of shock unable to be hidden within his expression.
“I have a fucking sister? And it’s you, of all people?” Jay huffs in an annoyed way, ultimately because, what kind of shitty luck in life is he set up for? 
The only reason this is his reaction is because, well, the two of you have history. Kind of. To him, at least, probably not to you. 
He remembers the first time he ever saw you, bright eyed and bushy tailed during his freshman year on campus. He thought you were pretty, but it’s not like that thought would go anywhere further. It’s the fact that he found everyone beautiful on campus, solely because he knew he must have been surrounded by people as smart as he is, or perhaps as well off financially as his father is. 
The day he decided that you’re really pretty was during a gen ed class that year. A class that he really could have done with his eyes closed if he’s being honest, but still, his eyes stayed open due to being paired with you for a simple single-class project. Where the two of you were to separate from the other pairs and come up with some sort of argument on a whim regarding a given topic. 
You were great at arguing, even better than him perhaps. 
And from that moment forward, he noticed you more and more through the semesters as you grew as students, despite only having one other class together during that time. 
He noted during that single other class period he shared with you some year and a half into his educational journey that you were one of the only students who didn’t boast about their GPA, which led him to believe you’re probably a little bit dumber than the other students. 
He also noted that you’d hang around the hockey team a lot as time went on, specifically Sunghoon and his friend Heeseung. Those two were rowdy, loud, and always threw the best parties. Or so he’s heard, it’s not like Jay ever showed up to them or anything. His GPA was far too important to not prioritize. 
Eventually, he’d end up noting that you would always be all over Sunghoon. A clear indication that he should keep his eyes to himself, especially with the way Sunghoon would occasionally make eye contact with him after eying his presumed girlfriend for too long. 
Dating Sunghoon though? Yeah, you’re probably a little more than a little bit dumb.
Still, it was just a little college crush that would never turn into anything further. He didn’t need more than the ability to glance at you from time to time and remember how well you argued in that first semester of college. After all, there are tons of other pretty girls on campus too, some that are also probably far more intelligent and not wasting their time on the meat-heads that barely keep their GPA up enough to attend the school. 
That’s why he’s shocked to walk into his father’s house, happy to be home, to find none other than you sitting on that couch. 
And now you’re standing up, facing him, and looking at him for probably the first time in several semesters. He’s actually a little shocked that you remember him at all. 
“Did–” You pause, looking at him confused. “Did your dad not tell you?”
Jay slowly shakes his head, dropping his bag and slipping off his shoes. 
“Probably didn’t think it was too important.” He finally says, shrugging and stretching his arms out above his head after the long drive. 
“It’s pretty important, actually.” You laugh awkwardly, having just gotten to your new home yourself, waiting for your mother to come out of her shower. “This is fucking awkward.”
Jay nods and then walks past you. 
“Hey wait, where are you going?” You ask, confused by the atmosphere in the room. 
“To my room?” He says back in a sarcastic tone, internally conflicted over the fact that his father forced him into crush-hood with someone he is now related to by marriage. 
Still, that’s something he will keep to himself. After all, it was just a small crush that never went away due to not having a reason to stop thinking you’re pretty.
He has a reason now, and he’s still happy to be home despite the awkwardness that’s now living beside him. If anything, he can fill his free time with his old friends rather than becoming friends with you. And he does, entering his room, locking it, and immediately sending a text to his long-time friend that he hasn’t seen since last summer. 
Speaking of said long-time friend. Jake grew up down the street from Jay and as expected, chose to stay home with his family rather than travel for college. He loved them too much to leave them, plus the college here was good. Not as good as the one Jay goes to, but still a great accomplishment nonetheless. 
Jake has a perfect GPA, a perfect family, perfect hair, and a very imperfect way of living up to his own accomplishments. 
For instance, not going with Jay to university despite having a high chance of making it in. He didn’t even try, didn’t even fucking consider it. Jake is the type who is both entirely lost in the world and one hundred percent okay with it. He doesn’t know who he is, who he wants to be, or what to do about it outside of following the general rules of life. 
Be born, learn to talk, learn to walk, go to school, go to college, work, die. 
Still, he is Jay’s best friend, which is why he is the first person he texts upon returning home. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The first dinner with your new family felt strange at best. You have a brother figure now, a father figure, and your mother is smiling for reasons that aren’t you or her new favorite show on tv. It’s both nice and insanely weird to experience sitting at a dinner table with more than just yourself. 
Things were always casual with your mother. Dinner is whenever, eat wherever. But as you look at her, you see her trying to fill a role for the handsome man she’s now married to. You don’t dislike the guy but as her daughter, who she raised almost entirely on her own, you’re cautious about him. 
And looking at Jay? It’s a little bit strange for you. He was so quiet on campus, which is a stark contrast to his loud and vibrant father. The two of them are still alike in some way when it comes to their ice cold stare that can’t be as icy as it appears. 
You remember working with Jay maybe once or twice throughout your semesters, and he was very well spoken. To the point that it almost felt as if you were working directly with a professor rather than a college student. He was clean back then, and somewhat brooding in his own way. It still rings true today if you remind yourself of his attitude upon meeting you in the living room. 
“Jongseong,” His father clears his throat with his son’s name, a smile forming as he places his cutlery to the side. “How did your finals go?”
Jay perks up at the ability to talk about himself and his accomplishments as he looks to your mother. He smiles at her, and you can’t help but think he’s putting on some sort of act. He never smiled too often when you did see him. 
You snort. 
“Jongseong?” You say, laughing at the way his father is so formal. “I thought your name was Jay?” 
Jay was mid-sentence when you so rudely interrupted him and his shiny GPA, as he shot his head to you. 
“Okay,” He says shortly. “What’s your GPA then?”
His father and your mother share a quick glance at each other, seemingly worried that the two of you appear to already be acting like siblings that do not get along. 
“Pfft,” You snort, rolling your eyes. “My GPA is just fine, Jongseong.” 
You’re just kidding around, but you can’t help but press when you note his, almost immediate, annoyance. Which to you is a bit too uptight if you’re being honest.
“So what is it then?” He glares, huffing out through his nose. “Because mine is a weighted 4.7.” 
It’s the fact that you already hate that he’s challenging you. You had no idea that his GPA was so high already, revealing that he must take extra honors classes and advanced courses by this point. Probably making straight A’s in most of them, if not all of them. 
You swallow around your spoon, your cheeky smirk falling almost instantly. 
“Point taken.” You roll your eyes. 
“What is your GPA?” He asks again with a smug smile. 
“I told you, my GPA is fine.” You argue. 
Jay thinks you must have fallen off of your ability to argue, because you’re really not putting up a fight like you did during that first semester. 
“Doesn’t seem fine.” He laughs, grabbing his cup and glaring at you from over it. “Probably just hiding that you’re failing,  just like that boyfriend of yours.”
You pause, actually mad now. 
“Excuse me?” You stare at him, dropping your spoon and clenching your fist. 
“Jongseong!” His father raises his voice at the family mishap, taking your mother’s hand on top of the table. 
Both you and Jay shoot your heads to him.
“That is your sister, don’t be rude.” His father says in a booming voice, reminding Jay that he can’t be petty like this to you. 
Despite wanting to. Mad that he still thinks you’re pretty even with the new discovery, even more mad that he enjoyed pushing your buttons just now. 
What’s worse is the way he glances at you and sees you snicker at his scolding before flinching as if your mother kicked you from under the table. 
He grimaces at the situation, at you, and then smiles at his father. 
“Sorry,” He says, scratching his forehead before grabbing his cup again. “Would have been nice to know I was coming home to a sister though.” 
His dad’s eyes widened before narrowing at his son, annoyed that his own flesh and blood is acting like such a child over this matter. 
“Jongseong–” He warns, and then your mother is speaking up.
“Wait, you didn’t even tell him that I have a daughter?”
The apologetic look that takes over your new step-father’s face is interesting because, honestly, it is a weighted question. You’d like to know why he didn’t tell Jay too, then again, maybe it wasn’t intentional. 
With that, you watch as Jay stands up and leaves the kitchen, leaving his plate there presumably for someone else to clean and can’t help but do the same.
You can see that familiar look of hurt on your mother’s face and feel it best that you sink away into your own room, which still needs to be set up and rearranged anyway. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
A week and a half since you’ve been to your new home, a week and a half of awkward family dinners, a week and a half of being shunned by your new step brother, and a week and a half of your boyfriend not texting you back.
Safe to say, this summer is starting off on the wrong foot for you and you’re already wanting it to be over so that you can at least focus on schoolwork, rather than the fact that it feels like everyone on this earth must hate you. 
You sit in your room once again after an awkward dinner, hearing your mother and Jay’s father talk quietly in the living room about being in love or something, you’re not sure, you don’t really care. 
At this point, being here rather than your mother’s old house just makes it worse. None of your friends are close enough to just up and visit you, Sunghoon certainly isn’t going to come un-bore you, and it appears that the only form of entertainment you can focus on is your own self-doubt at this moment. 
Why not go hang out with Jay? At least pushing his buttons would be more fun than wallowing in boredom and self-pity. Surely it would be more fun, surely he’d probably have some fun too, since he seems so fond of pissing you off already.
Up you go, onto your socked feet as you head for the door and just across the hallway to his cracked door. 
You don’t even knock before stepping inside as if it’s your own room.
You note that he jumps, startled at your presence. That split second of seeing him before, from behind, it seemed like he was quite focused on his pc, but his little surprised jump leads you to believe he was a bit too focused on it. 
“Sup bro,” You smile, flopping down on his bed in a grand entrance. “Watching porn?” 
Jay rolls his eyes, closing out his tabs because, well, he was gonna but hadn’t yet opened the website or closed his door. 
“Why are you in my room?” He asks, not turning to face you yet.
“I’m bored.” You admit, eyes looking at how messy his bedroom is. Posters on the wall, clothes thrown all around, abandoned dumbbells lying in the corner.
 If anything, you’re a little shocked that Jay is so messy. He appeared so clean cut and well-put together back before you were forced into close proximity with him, his room is a huge mismatch in your head right now. Like, wow, he has personality? His clothes aren’t all boring tones of white, beige, and gray? He likes music? Arguably pretty decent music if the posters are anything to go by.
“Your room is disgusting.”
“Then leave.”
You pause, sitting yourself up and staring at the back of his head.
“Why are you so fucking rude?” You ask, glaring a hole through the mess of hair on his head. 
“Because you’re incapable of having an intelligent discussion and still try to talk to me.” 
God, he’s so robotic when he speaks to you, it’s so disheartening. So emotionless, so boring.
“Jongseong.” You say, mostly to try and elicit some type of emotion out of him. 
He swivels his chair around to look at you, just as annoyed as you expected him to be.
“Stop calling me that.” He warns, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes. “Why are you bothering me right now?”
You shrug, eyes looking up and around his cluttered room again before sighing. 
“I’m bored,” You try to say nonchalantly. “And lonely now that my mom is too busy with your dad.”
Jay tilts his head at you in curiosity, almost seeming interested in your issues before smirking. 
“Yeah, well,” He chuckles, turning back to his computer. “What makes you think I’m not busy?”
You stand to your feet, huffing in defeat. 
“Listen,” You say, nearly tripping on a neglected shirt on the ground and grabbing his chair to force him to turn around. You see that it’s annoying him, which is great. “We should at least try to get along.”
Jay stays silent, looking past you and to his skewed bedroom door before sighing. 
“So, I guess you’re not as stupid as you seem then?” He offers, looking up at you from his chair with a stupid smirk on his face. Seemingly proud of how much he intends to talk his shit at you. “Smartest thing i’ve ever heard you say.”
God, he’s so fucking annoying. Why does he act like that? So pompous with such an ego. Which is really pathetic when you think about it and all of the times you never once noticed him on campus. Sure, there were a few times that you did, but what gives him the right to act so high and mighty? No one even knows who he is save for the professors who deal with his constant ass kissing.
“It’s embarrassing for you to think that your high GPA is all that's worthy of a person. You’re so stuck up, you know that, Jongseong?” You argue immediately, backing away and sitting right back on his bed. “It’s no wonder you’re such an asshole, you should go get your dick sucked or something because this is ridiculous.”
Jay pauses. 
“I’ve had my dick sucked plenty.” He laughs, because he’s not lying. “Still, sex doesn’t make me that dumb.”
The way he looks down on you is demeaning and offensive, if you’re being honest. And somehow, you’re shocked by those words, like entirely floored that he’d even say such a thing to you. You told him to get his dick sucked to loosen up that up-tight shitty personality, not because you wanted to fucking know that he’s not the virgin he parades around looking like. 
Still, you’re floored that he’s focusing on that single aspect of your comment. Simmering on it, insulting you for having sex. Calling you cock-stupid basically. 
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 
“You think half the school doesn’t see you practically ride Sunghoon in the hallways?” He rolls his eyes. 
“Maybe you’d have a brain in that little head of yours if you weren’t too busy letting him fuck it out of you.”
You lean back in disgust at him, reminding yourself that not even Sunghoon wants to talk to you right now. Sad that he’s almost right about it. Sunghoon does fuck you stupid, and you probably are fairly obvious about it considering there have been more times than you can count that he’s been just as hot and bothered mid-class day with you.
That doesn’t matter now though, considering he won’t fucking text you back. 
“Well, maybe you’d feel better knowing that I’m about to break up with him.” You huff. “Again. So maybe then, you’ll stop basing my entire existence on the fact that I get fucked like any normal person.”
Jay stops for a moment, seemingly pleased with what you just said. 
“Hmm,” He hums out, looking at you with a less annoyed gaze. “Maybe he hasn’t rendered you completely incompetent then.”
And with that, you’re done. You stand to your feet with a scoff and immediately head for his door. Only to bring Jay’s attention further to you. He presses your buttons on purpose, of course, but it’s fun for him. It’s not like you weren’t doing the same thing. He really thought you’d at least fight him a little more in this argument, and he finds himself confused as to why you’re actually offended. 
Soft, gullible, and stupid?
“Wait, hold on.” Jay says, noting the way you stop. “What did he do?” 
Of course he’s nosy, of course he wants the details, you think. And of course you’re going to stay and give them to him considering your mother is too wrapped up with someone else to hear about your relationship problems anyway. 
“I don’t know.” You give in immediately, prancing back on his bed as if you’re in a girl’s room and hugging one of his pillows. Which, mind you, somehow smells good despite the room looking like it should smell like dried sweat and cum. You’re pleased with the aroma as you breathe in to continue.  “He hasn’t texted me back since the last day of class, and I already know what that means.”
Jay leans forward in interest, for the first time listening to you rather than complaining about you. If anything, he’s invested in the break up solely because his past-self did find himself a little jealous that you wasted your time on such a man. 
“What does it mean, then?” He asks. 
“He’s probably with that girl he was with last summer.” You admit, voice cracking only a little bit. “He promised he wouldn’t but this would be the third time if it’s true.”
Jay was going to say something, but you cut him off.
“I broke up with him last summer too, and just a few days before the semester started he called me and begged for me to take him back. Something about how it won’t happen again this time, that he promises he will block her for good, and that he’s sorry.” 
Man, you are dumb. Which is a shame, because even for someone like you he doesn’t think that’s very fair. He knew Sunghoon was an asshole by his appearance alone, but like, cheating? On someone that’s as hot as you? With a body like yours? Really? 
“Huh.” He says, pinching the sides of his chin as he thinks. 
“Last time, he didn’t even respond when I broke up with him. I was finally feeling better when he decided to come back.”
“Then, just don’t let him this time?” 
You sit for a moment, thinking about if you’d have the ability to actually stay away from Sunghoon. He’s hot, and good fucking lord is he good at pleasuring you. Part of you was okay with the kind of, like, fling thing you had going on with him. The first two times he ignored you for someone else hurt, but you’re not hurting as much now.
You’re just annoyed now, because if Sunghoon would just be honest, maybe the two of you could work out something. How come he is rendered single during the summer but you’re not? After all, if you so much as mention another guy to him he gets mad. Hell, he even argued with Heeseung in front of you simply for hugging you around the waist rather than over the shoulders. 
“You know,” You start, trying to come up with some sort of solution. “I always think I won’t, but he always says the right things to make me believe him, even just in the moment.” You pause to take a breath in. “Things are so good during the semester, then he’s just gone when we are away.”
Jay thinks hard about this, and even harder about the crush he had on you previously, knowing that it’s still there despite trying to pretend it isn't. Knowing that he’s glad you and Sunghoon are in this back and forth. He’s happy you’re going to leave him, and not entirely because he’s cheating on you.
It’s partially because he doesn’t want to have to look at you with him. As wrong as that is. It didn’t hurt too bad before he knew you. After all, you were just a pretty girl to look at. But now? Seeing you around the house? Knowing your daily routine? Forced to be close to you and loving it despite pretending he hates it? 
It’s sad, really, that Jay immediately became more interested in you the moment he knew it was not only against the rules, but morally wrong. Still, ss dumb as you are, he knows he’d treat you right. 
And you know, if he could, he would. He would try and swoop in considering he’s around you during your breaks and has the full ability to be there on campus as well, unlike Sunghoon. Never would either of you have to be apart from each other. 
There are several issues with this though. Obviously. And he has to keep reminding himself each time he thinks about it. He doesn’t fucking see you as his step-sister. You’re still just that pretty girl with the pretty lips, who wastes her body on men who don’t want her. You’re not his type at all, and yet? You’re entirely the girl of his dreams.
Logically, he clearly isn’t your type either, if Sunghoon is anything to go by. 
By marriage, he is now your brother. By marriage, he is now barred from openly glancing at you and your body. By fucking marriage, Jay is forced into a guilty mindset of wanting to disobey every moral direction in his head involving you.
The good news? By marriage, he is now obligated to protect you as your brother. So, is it really a taboo that he’s happy to see you think about leaving Sunghoon? Of course it isn’t.
And he’s gonna keep telling himself that. 
“Then maybe, since you’re away from him and he’s out doing his thing, you should–” He internally panics for a second, knowing he’s talking too quickly to stop himself. “Maybe you should go out and have some fun too.”
He immediately regrets it upon saying it. Why the fuck would he insinuate you should go out and fuck more dudes who would probably treat you just like Sunghoon does? He has to think fast, and he has to think now.
You watch him, amazed by the fact that he isn’t arguing with you. He’s actually helping you, and offering some pretty solid advice. 
“Like, I should just cheat on him?” You stare. 
“Well, no. You’re breaking up with him, aren’t you?”  He continues, tuning out to what you’re saying and tuning in to his head in order to figure out how to bar you from actually heeding the advice. 
You take a moment before nodding, it’s not like this would be anything new to Sunghoon anyway. 
“I’m sure you’ll meet someone here that’ll be better.” He finally adds to his advice, entirely half-assing it because you’d better not. Unless that person is him.  “Perhaps you wouldn’t want Sunghoon back by the time fall semester starts.”
And with that confirmation, you smile at him. 
“Aw,” You say snidely. “Look at us, getting along and shit.”
He stares forward, narrows his eyes just like before, and then turns back to his PC. 
“Now get out.” 
And for the first time, you don’t argue. Feeling a little better about joining his family now. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“A hundred dollars a month.”  Jay emphasizes in a hushed tone to Jake. “Just hear me out, she’s hot.”
“Jay, that’s your sister.”
“Okay? Are you going to do it or not?” 
“Make it two hundred.” Jake counters, leaning close and staring his best friend in the face. “I gotta say, it’s a little weird that you’re paying me to do this. I’m only just finding out you have a sister, dude.”
Jay keeps his face calm, trying to appear like this is simply to help out his lonely step sister. In reality, he’s doing this solely so he knows what is happening with your relationship status, and he is absolutely praying for Sunghoon’s downfall. 
Plus, if he pays someone to date you, it makes up for the fact that he can’t give it a shot himself. Jake can easily get your focus off of Sunghoon for even just a little while, he’s sure of it and considering he’s his best friend, he knows Jake wont cross any boundaries and keep this to strictly business. After all, Jake can just break up with you by the time you’re over Sunghoon, and who will be there to comfort you?
Exactly. Jay will be there. 
Essentially, your step-brother will have full control over your love life for a mere two hundred dollars a month. 
All so you don’t go out and actually meet someone else. All so he doesn’t have the jealousy in the back of his brain nagging at him. All so he can, kind of, in his head, keep you to himself. 
“Well, to be fair –” Jay offers to Jake, noting how long his hair has gotten. “I’m just finding out I have a step sister too. But listen, she’s got this asshole going back and forth with her and I can’t let him keep doing it.”
“So, what you’re saying is that, you’re paying me to get your sister’s mind off of him?” Jake raises a brow, stunned by the fact that he hasn’t seen Jay all year and this is the first thing they talk about upon meeting up again. “Why me?”
Jay smiles.
“You’re my best friend, anyone else would cross a boundary. Just date her ‘til she moves on or something, I don’t know. I don’t want to watch her be taken advantage of by someone like him.” He explains, as if he’s not trying to take advantage of the situation himself.
Jake nods, not really needing to think too much about how good of a deal this is. 
“What makes you think I could pull her though? You just said that she’s hot. Since when can I pull hot girls?”
“Well, you probably can’t,” Jay laughs, “But you could probably play the part pretty well if you act like your GPA is garbage and like, i don’t know? Act cool? She seems to like the idiot edgy guys.”
Jay is pleased with the way Jake instantly accepts, and doesn’t focus on the fact any longer that he called his step sister hot, or at least, until he does.
“Okay. Act cool, maybe paint my nails–” Jake’s eyes light up. “Oh! Do you think she’s into, like, band guys? I can pull out your old guitar and say you’re teaching me to play so I can get bitches.”
Jay smacks him across the head for already acting about as dumb as you’d probably like, then actually considers the fact that it’s a great idea.
“Wait, yeah actually.” Jay smiles. “Would probably be best if she doesn’t know we are friends too. Use that as an excuse to come over and hangout and stuff.” He trails off momentarily before Jake speaks again.
“So, is she actually hot though?” 
Jay freezes, because yeah. But he really can’t just say that again considering the circumstances. Plus, why the fuck should Jake care? He only said it before as a means to convince him to take the deal.
“You’ll like her.” He avoids saying anything else, ignoring the feeling in his gut that he knows Jake is going to be all over you the second he gets the chance. “Just–listen, there are rules involved in this.” Jay finally warns, tapping his wallet.
“Rules? Okay, go on.” 
“For two hundred a month, take her out. Just dates. Talk to her and hang out with her, I don’t know.” He starts, waving his hands around as if he’s trying to think about what he’s saying, and ultimately, beating around the bush. He notes quite quickly though, how Jake looks at him as if he just stated the obvious.
“I mean, like, don’t fuck her. Don’t kiss her, don’t be weird.”
Because that, somehow, feels worse than knowing you’re already wasting your body on Sunghoon. 
Jake tilts his head in confusion.
“How exactly are you going to pay me to date her and not act like I’m interested?” He asks, furrowing his brows. “What if she tries to kiss me? What if she tries to fuck me?”
Jay laughs, or snorts, really.
“Please.” He waves him off. “I doubt that will be an issue but if, for some insane reason it does come up– just tell her you’re saving yourself or something.”
And at the end of the day, Jake accepts the terms of the deal, not yet pocketing the money because Jay tells him that he needs to go home before you come home. 
Why? Because he’s not looking the part. If you walk in and see this loser sitting in front of him, you’ll automatically know that Jake is a close friend of Jay’s. You need to not know that. 
So, with that, Jake goes home with a plan to come over for “guitar lessons” the following day, at a time where Jay knows you’ll be home. And then? After the initial meeting, he will get his first payment. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He knew it. Jay fucking knew you were a slut. 
Jake didn’t even have to try that hard. Honestly, it’s almost pathetic to watch. If anyone on campus found out, if Sunghoon found out how you’re acting right now, he thinks your reputation would spiral straight into the gutter. 
And while he shames you for unintentionally falling into the trap, he feels proud. Proud that his best friend is able to play a part so well. 
Jake came over, dark hair unbrushed but somehow intentionally styled, flannel hanging off his shoulder, where a ratty black tank covered his chest underneath. Ripped jeans just tight enough to show off, just loose enough to make it look like he knows how to wear these kinds of clothes, and he wears them well. Nails painted, and it even appears that he intentionally chipped them. 
Hell, he barely recognized his own best friend when he walked through the door. 
“Holy shit.” Jay had said upon sizing him up. “What the fuck?” 
And Jake just smiled at him, with the same loser-filled dopey grin as he always had before the two of them went to Jay’s room, made sure the door was open, and plugged in the guitar for maximum noise level.
After all, His father and your mother go on date nights like three times a week it seems. There’s plenty of time to be rowdy college kids if need be. 
And the need is definitely here. 
It wasn’t long by the time you came home, curious as to why you were hearing the sound of guitar strings being plucked terribly. When the fuck did Jay play a guitar? Arguably, if this is what he does when no one is home, maybe he’s a little more likable in the fact that his hobbies aren’t sitting around and jerking off while staring at his GPA. 
When you walked into the room though, prepared to annoy the fuck out of your step-brother, you stopped upon seeing him look the same as ever while sitting just in front of….some guy.
Just, some fucking guy. 
A hot fucking guy. 
With a guitar on his lap, with your step brother offering direction to him.
Jay looked at you, noted your curiosity of his best friend-turned-pretend-stranger, and then glared. 
“Can I help you?” He had said, taking the guitar from the guy and propping it up on his lap.
You stood there, feeling the eyes of the other dude staring you up and down before shaking your head 
“Uh, no.” You had responded before awkwardly slinking away and into your own room.
And honestly, it would have ended there if it weren’t for the fact that Jake was immediately whisper shouting at Jay about how you really are hot. Making plans on how to get you back in the room, or perhaps how to get Jake out of it and beside you.
It wasn’t hard really, as Jay reminds himself how it all went down. His own discomfort aside at how Jake appears to act much like he does in his own head. 
“Just finished up the lesson, you wanna come eat something with us?” He had said, far too out of character.
“You give fucking guitar lessons?” You responded, entirely confused by the fact that….Jay was the one who played the nice sounding strums, not the guy in front of him, the one that appeared to be the type to be the one giving the lesson.
“Yeah? Are you coming or not?”
You paused, and ultimately joined them upon Jay stating that you could starve for all he cares. 
And that’s when Jake started his act. 
Sitting next to you, looking at you, asking about your interests, telling you that Jay is helping him learn the guitar because he has dreams of forming his own band someday. That he’s in college but doesn’t really care much for it, that his dreams lie in the stars still and no desk or nine to five job would bring them down for him.
Jay did want to smack his best friend across the head for that lame line, but you seemed to think it was poetic, or romantic, or some shit. It only further reminded him that you’re entirely too dumb and he needs to be here to make sure you don’t get all caught up again with a guy who doesn’t look at you the way he does. 
The way he can’t stop looking at you, actually. 
Jay watched as you fell in tune with his best friend’s pretend-persona, and arguably Jake was far more charismatic than usual. If he chose to really dress like this, or act like this, Jay thinks he could probably pull any girl he wants. 
And he watched, and he watched, and he watched. Up until the third time Jake pretended he was going to leave so as to not intrude in the home any further. 
Jay didn’t have to make the excuse that time. It was you. 
And that’s when he noted that you are, absolutely, unmistakably, a fucking slut. 
Why? Well, it could be due to the fact that after having a quick meal, you ran to your room and came back out dawning your own fucking tank top, showing off a pair of nice tits that you seemed to hide from him. Which, his head shouldn’t be in the gutter about that but man. He and Jake were both stunned at how you decided to present yourself. 
Could be due to the fact that it’s like, you met Jake for a solid hour and immediately started sucking up. Using a cute voice that Jay knows for a fact is fake as hell. You whine about Sunghoon, like you’d struggle to truly break up with him, but you’re still all over Jake like you’ve been flirting for fucking years.
It could also be due to the fact that you invited Jake to stay longer by inviting him into your room under the guise of “checking out your music selection.”
Jay was left to his devices by that point, where you led his best friend to your room and closed the door in his face with the argument of, “Jongseong, since when were you so interested in what I listen to anyway?”
He huffed in annoyance at you saying his name and then slamming the door on him, he huffs in even more annoyance as he steps back and leans against the wall thinking hard about the plan he’s come up with. 
The fact that he’s living with a total skank who never once looked at him the way you did to Jake all fucking day. Is he that boring? Really? He knew you liked edgy guys based on Sunghoon. Such a pretty boy, despite getting rowdy and dirty during hockey practice and matches. Jay never understood how he kept his face pristine, and also never understood why girls liked him at all when it came to how much of an asshole he was. 
And then there’s Jake, playing the part of someone Jay assumed you’d like. It’s the fact that you do like it, and it’s entirely different from himself. Even if you weren’t now related by marriage, he probably never would have had a fucking chance with you to begin with.
Even with all of that clicking in his head, he still finds himself wanting you more now than he ever did before. With that fucking tank top, and that stupid fake voice you were using, and with your stupid interest in his stupid best friend.
This was probably a bad idea. After all, he could have just left it alone but no. He just had to be in control of who you’re dating. At the very least though, Jake knows to keep his hands to himself, and that’s the only thing that comforts Jay in regards to this deal.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Jongseong?” Jake laughs when you close the door and trap him in your room with him. Eyes glued to you and the sweet deal Jay offered up. “I’ve never heard him called that before.”
He’s lying, of course. Jake has been in and out of this house since he was a child. He’s heard the name hundreds of times, if not thousands. 
“I know, right? I couldn’t help but laugh when I heard it the first time.” You snicker, putting on a show when you head to your unpacked box of disks and vinyls. “I don’t think he likes it when I call him that, so I try to do it as much as possible.”
Jake offers you a crooked smile, messy hair dangling in front of his eyes as if they were somewhat….shy? Like he’s being bashful in this room with you, but you try not to think about that because, well, look at him. 
He doesn’t seem like the shy type. 
“Maybe I’ll start doing it too then.” Jake laughs, standing awkwardly behind you when you bend over to pick up the box. Immediately he chokes up, stepping closer unintentionally because honestly, who wouldn’t think with their dick at this point? 
And when you stand back up, turning with the box, you jump at how close he’s gotten. 
“Oh!” You breathe in surprise, looking away shyly for a moment, wondering how lucky you must be for your boring ass step brother to invite such a nice looking guy into the home. “Um, you have a nice smile.” You add out of nowhere, and then immediately feel embarrassed. 
“You have nice tits,” is what Jake would say in response if he were for one, allowed to, and two, not a nervous mess about being alone in a room with such a pretty girl.
Only now does he realize how difficult this might be to get through. For two hundred dollars? Well, it’s a sweet deal if you actually want to go on a date with him, and given the persona he’s given himself, he thinks he could probably get away with asking tonight. Which is insane, because he really thought he’d be paid another two hundred just to get to that point. You’re entirely into him though, and he hates to admit that he might be entirely into you too. Jay would kick his ass if he knew what’s going through his head right now.
“I like your tank top,” Jake says instead, wanting to reach forward and snap the strap of it solely because he feels confident enough to do it, but he doesn’t. The words are actually quite lame, and are a blatant show at how bad he is at talking to girls. Thankfully though, you know, since he’s supposed to sound like a guy with two brain cells, it kinda works out. 
“It matches mine.” 
You smile shyly yet again, entirely in tune with the idea of taking Jay’s advice and having some fun yourself. Perhaps with this guy. But for now? You have to at least pretend you actually want to show him your music collection.
And of course, Jake has to pretend he actually cares about it when you sit down on your bed and start sifting through the boxes. 
“Huh, you like some pretty heavy stuff. I wasn’t expecting that.” Jake compliments, though uninterested in a music taste that isn’t his own, it’s insane how the two of you do listen to some of the same bands. 
“Oh yeah? Why not?” You ask, sitting up straight and making sure your chest looks good enough to keep his eyes glancing down at them.
Because he hasn’t stopped looking, really. 
“I dunno,” Jake shrugs, watching how your tits squeeze together and he can’t tell if it’s intentional or not. No girl has ever tried to show off for him like this, and he’s enjoying it a bit too much. “I, um,” He loses his train of thought when you lean back, letting your breasts fall into their natural position as you look at him. 
“My eyes are up here, Jake.” You smile, watching him tear his eyes away and swallow around a lump in his throat. 
“Oh, right.” He lends a nervous chuckle, one that he feels is entirely out of character given the personality he’s supposed to have. “Can’t really help it, they’re nice.”
Ah, right back into the act, perfect. 
He almost panicked at the forwardness too, because Jake would never have the confidence to say such a thing to a woman on any other day. 
“Oh? You can’t?” You smile, leaning back up and pushing the box from your lap. “Maybe I should cover up then?” You add, staring right at his flannel. 
Jake notes your line of sight and then looks down at his own shirt. 
“What?” He says, pinching the collar of the flannel and shaking it. “You already wanna wear my clothes?” He smiles. 
“If you wanna see me in them.” You comment shortly, sizing him up for the billionth time. “Or out of them.”
Well, it’s safe to say Jake wasn’t prepared for that. This deal is going a bit too smoothly, and he just knows that Jay must not have any idea of this side of you. His sister, right here, insinuating Jake should like, take her clothes off. Or rather, take his clothes off of you.
It’s against the rules but goddamn is he feeling the spark with you. Right in his pants, actually. Embarrassingly. 
“I’ll give it to you right now if you go out with me tomorrow night.” Jake avoids the situation smoothly, while offering an alternative. “Then, we can talk about getting my clothes off of you.”
You nod, feeling your heart skip beats at flirting with a man that isn’t Sunghoon. 
“Hand it over then.” You reach out, leaning in real close to him. “But, I’d still rather you keep staring at my tits.”
Man, following the rules Jay set in place is gonna be way, way, harder than he thought. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake could get used to this, really. Taking you on dates, anyway. What he can’t get used to? Dodging anything more than dirty talk and then coming over just the next day to see the confusion on your face as to why he isn’t picking up your hints. 
He wants to, like really, he really, really, fucking wants to. You’re so blatant with him on dates, rubbing up on him, whispering slutty little words that only drive his cock to pulse and beg to be used. He can’t bear it, especially knowing that these very dates are paid for by your own step brother.
 Still, if he were allowed, he probably could have gotten himself between your legs on the very first day he met you. 
“No, dude, she was all over me this time, even more than usual.” Jake explains to Jay during another guitar lesson, pleased that he’s actually learning how to play. “She even mentioned that guy Sunghoon and said I was way cooler than him.”
Jay was pleased, he could say. Save for the jealousy that only grows each time he watches you take Jake away from his lesson to hang out with, without him. Save for the fact that you only continue to prove that you like any guy who isn’t him. In reality, why would you? He knows there is logic to this situation, but he is finding it harder and harder every day to think logically around you. 
Jealous. He’s jealous. He’s mad at how bad you want it from Jake. Hell, you’d probably take it from anyone at this point as he eyes his best friend and his new found fashion sense. It matches him, and acting like an idiot seems to match him too. Maybe Jay should consider not brushing his hair and dumbing down a little bit too. 
Then again, this could just be the resentment in him building up. He’s the only reason Jake has a girl throwing herself at him. Both you and Jake should be far more thankful for what Jay has brought upon the three of you. 
Still, he’s pissed about how good the plan is working, and before long, he’s hoping that Sunghoon will be long forgotten when Jake finally asks you to be his girlfriend. Then he can toy around for a bit before breaking up with you under the guise that “you’re just not his type.”
“I had the idea that she was easy,” Jay explains, rolling his eyes at his best friend. “No wonder Sunghoon kept coming back, it’s like he knew she would throw herself at him at the drop of a hat.” 
Jake pauses, furrowing his brow. 
“Why would you even say something like that?” Jake asks, tilting his head. “Aren’t we doing this to like, help her?”
Jay shakes his thoughts out, realizing how awful that must have sounded. 
“Yeah, yeah.” He waves off his edgy best friend. “Of course. I was just saying.”
There's some awkward silence in the room now as Jay’s internal panic takes over. He doesn’t want his reputation on the line for this. Even just to Jake. Perhaps he’s being too resentful with his words, only able to offer passive-aggressive remarks out loud when it comes to you. 
“I just thought that if we got her away from him, maybe she’d stop throwing herself at guys that don’t care about her, is all.”
Jake gives him a look of further confusion, maybe even some concern. “Um, isn’t that what we’re doing right now?” 
Damn, Jay really should’ve thought that through. Is he losing his touch? Is your stupidity rubbing off on him now?
“Yeah, but you’re not touching her so, maybe it’ll help her learn some fucking self restraint? I don’t know dude, just be a good boyfriend, fuck.” 
Jake raises his hands in defense, realizing he basically interrogated Jay of his choice of words, and perhaps thought too deeply into them. Still, he can’t help but feel like Jay holds some type of hatred within him for you, which is weird, considering the lengths he is going to try and “help” you. 
“God, relax.” Jake reaches forward to grab his best friend by the shoulders. “As much as she throws herself at me, I guess I can kind of understand what you mean.” 
Jake understands far too well, having gone through one too many dates while trying to contain himself to give in to your every hint or insinuation of at least kissing. 
He happens to miss the way Jay glares at him for his words though. Because in all honesty, no one is allowed to talk about you like that but him, and there was something in him that broke to hear Jake insinuate that you’re a slut. Like Jake isn’t the luckiest guy in the world right now to have you throwing yourself at him? 
Bullshit.
“I’ll be a good boyfriend, I promise.” Jake finally adds, checking his watch. “She’s gonna be home soon too. I’ll try and get her to hang out in the living room this time so you can see what I mean though.”
Jay wants to refuse the option to watch even more than he already has to, but there’s something in him that kind of can’t resist it. 
“She likes horror movies, you know?” Jake continues, giving Jay information that he probably should have already known, but somehow doesn’t. “I’ll tell her that you wanted to watch the new one, and I’ll pay to rent it since, you know, you’re paying me to do this.”
Jay shrugs casually, anticipating the image of you and his best friend all tangled up on the couch, while he’s stuck at the end by himself. With no one. Alone. 
“Yeah, that’s fine. Dad’s probably gonna be home but I can ask for the living room.” 
“Oh shit, wait–” Jake thinks hard. “What if he sees me looking like this? Acting like this? She’s gonna find out that I've been lying this entire time about us being friends and shit.”
Jake only panics because he believes he’s acting more with Jay than he is with you. If you were to find out that he’s been lying, you’d be so angry at him. But do you know what scares him more? Jay finding out that he maybe kind of actually likes you more than he’s supposed to.
Jay sighs in defeat because his best friend is right, if his father finds out that Jake is running around acting like this, dressing like this, he’ll definitely say something about it.
“You know…” Jake finally says, staring at Jay’s TV. 
“No.” Jay immediately shuts the idea down, not at all wanting to experience the two of you tangled together on his own bed. 
“Dude, come on. Why not?”
Jay rolls his eyes in an annoyed huff, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stands to put the guitar away, ignoring that there was no practicing at all today. It’s just been hours of talking about you. And how you’ve managed to find yourself a summer job so fast, and how you’re entirely horny for Jake, and how–
“I don’t want to see my own sister try and get in your pants in my room.” Jay tries to explain as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Then, immediately he gives in. Solely because the sudden thought of you lying in his bed at all again is something that….might help later.
“Jake, so help me god if you so much as brush your hand across her tit I’m going to slice your tires.”
Jake smiles in victory, nodding to his best friend with the promise that, at least tonight, he wouldn’t do such a thing. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Every day you find yourself wondering why it is that Jake appears to be so into you, yet constantly shooting you down. 
When you try to kiss him, he leans in, his eyes start to close, sometimes you can even feel his breath on your lips then, he just– pulls away?
When you try to insinuate that you want to touch him, or want him to touch you, you can physically see his reaction. The way his ears go red, his eyes go dark, and occasionally you even catch a glimpse of what’s in his pants growing heavy and strained. 
It’s driving you crazy, really. With the way he talks all that shit but doesn’t live up to it. He’ll say some of the nicest things, he’ll dirty talk you in the middle of a restaurant, he’ll even make promises to follow through with it too. But he never does. You find yourself wondering why you even continue to text him back, or why you consistently keep this fucking flannel he offered up to you on the first day of meeting. 
Every single date, you’ve worn it, just to see if he’s got the nerve to take it off of you. And every single date he pretends like it wasn’t his flannel to begin with, despite his hungry stare constantly staying on you. 
So now, as you awkwardly half-lay on Jay’s bed with him, Jay separated and on his computer chair, you wonder why he’s even here. 
Sure, Jay gives him lessons but as far as you know, it’s a little strange that he stayed over to watch a movie with you presumably, only to invite Jay, and to you know, watch it inside of Jay’s room.
Are they like, friends now or something? Well, arguably they had to have at least been friends on some level, but still. It feels awkward hanging out with Jay when you’re trying to get his “friend” to rail you. 
Either way, you guess you don’t mind too much when Jake is actually next to you. Most doubt sinks into the back of your head and the confusion is replaced with that of extreme arousal. Something about this guy, Jake, is alluring and feels…right? Is that the right word for it? Like, correct? Or maybe, meant to be? 
You know, maybe he’s waiting on sleeping with you because despite his edgy appearance and his dead-beat goals in life, maybe he really is just a big softie and wants this to work out long-term. God, you hope you’re right about that.
Doesn’t stop you from trying though, as the movie reaches its climax and you move your hand under the covers against Jake’s legs, feeling the rips of his jeans and sliding your hand through one of them. Gently, attempting to feel the warmth of his skin in a discreet and somewhat cheeky way. 
You hear his intake of breath at the touch, his shoulders stiffening as he stares forward to try and focus on the movie. Still, you feel his hand move lower, lying it directly on yours with only his thin, ripped denim separating the touch. 
“Oops.” You whisper to him, slowly massaging the thick of his thigh with your finger tips, toying with the way he reacts.
You don’t notice the way his eyes shift to Jay, who was already glaring at the movement he noted under the covers, on his fucking bed.
Jake, on the other hand, feels like he’s between a rock and a hard place right now. 
He’s being paid to pretend to like you, being paid to not genuinely like you, being paid to not touch you, and practically being paid to ask you to be his girlfriend only to break up with you.
Which fucking sucks because he maybe, kind of, likes you? A little bit?
A lot, actually, especially with your cheeky little whispers and sneaky little hands. 
Arguably though, Jay should have known better than to expect Jake to not feel some type of way towards a girl like you. To Jake, it’s insane anyone could simply pretend to be into you without actually falling in deep. You’re not only hot, but you’re fucking funny too? You laugh at his jokes? You cuddle up with him? You’re actually a lot smarter than Jay gives you credit for? And you appear to want to kiss and touch him just as bad as he does.
So, it’s torture really, that he’s so close to breaking. So fucking close to kicking Jay out of his own room just to feel what your hands alone could do for him but, he refrains. 
He suffers, sitting here with this not very good horror movie, pretending his cock doesn’t ache for you. Pretending his own best friend doesn’t see how much he wants it. Yet, still hoping you see. 
And you do. You do see it. 
You feel it too, as you shift your hands out of his ripped jeans and move them upwards as silently and secretly as you can while remaining focused on the movie. You brush your pinky up and against the dick you clearly want so badly at this point. And the way Jake flexes it, almost intentionally lifting his cock up for you to know he likes it, despite the risk of Jay seeing. Despite the fact that he hasn’t done this at any point when the two of you were alone. 
You smile to yourself, pushing your hand closer, closer, closer, until you grab it.
There goes his stiff shoulders again, there goes a soft sigh, and you’re fucking beaming.
Jay sees the way the covers are moving over the lap of his best friend, and honestly? He’s appalled over the fact that Jake was right. You fucking throw yourself at him with no shame, to the point that not even being in the same room as your step-brother would stop you enough to have some fucking self-restraint. 
He watches for a while, about five minutes or so. Studies the way Jake makes attempts to arch away from your touch as if he’s following the rules of the deal but, Jay isn’t stupid. Jake, of all people, should know that. He can fucking see the way he also arches into your touch too, despite it all being under the blanket he sleeps under at night. 
It’s not until Jay sees you throw your leg over Jake’s, and you lean in really close to him to the point your face is hidden in his neck and Jake appears to be listening to something you’re saying, that he decides to put a stop to this. 
Neither of you are even watching this movie. You’re encouraging Jake, surely. You’re trying to snake your hand down his pants. You’re trying to fuck his best friend, right in front of him. 
It feels like an insult, or perhaps an intentional act of defiance and god knows Jake wouldn’t be able to resist if Jay himself feels a twitch in his pants at the scene unfolding, even through this frustration. 
Why are you like this? Why do you just–do this to yourself? To him? To his best friend? Why do you seem to know how irresistible you are? It’s almost at the point that Jay wouldn’t even want to put a stop to it solely to see what your hands could to for him if this life wasn’t so fucked up. 
Still, he has to put an end to it. Jake is breaking the rules. 
“Are you really trying to do that right now?” Jay asks out, and he watches the way you snap your hand back and lean away from Jake. 
Both heads turn to him, and he huffs out a sigh of frustration that shows you crossed a line. 
“What do you mean?” You ask, trying to pretend that you weren’t doing anything at all to the pretty boy sitting next to you. 
“God–” Jay grimaces. “You’re really gonna play dumb after arguing with me that you’re not?”
You lift past Jake, staring at him. 
“You can be a whore all you want, but to assume I want to see it? You’re disgusting. I’m your fucking step-brother.” He finally says, as if it’s final, and as if to convince himself that every word he spits is true. 
Jake remains silent as he listens to the way Jay speaks to you, quite offended for you, maybe even a bit pissed off about it himself. Then again, it could just be because Jay is dead set on cock-blocking him. 
You though? You feel silenced, a little embarrassed, and entirely turned on by the fact that Jake’s first time letting you actually touch him, was right here. Maybe he’s into that. You know, like, being caught or something. Still, the quickness in which Jay shames you isn’t shocking at all but for him to have an ego to the point of assuming you did this for him to watch? Insane, he’s so fucking stuck in his head to believe that everything a person does, is because of him. 
A fucking text-book narcissist.
“And you.” Jay says, shifting his eyes over to Jake. “You could do better.”
Ouch. That stings a little bit, as your eyes avoid looking towards Jay and fall onto Jake, who only swallows at his words. 
Without another word, you shift from the bed, stand to your feet, and walk out, leaving the two in the room alone.
Jake feels, uh, bad? 
Or rather, he knows he’s supposed to but he simply doesn’t. After all, it’s been two paychecks from Jay now and he still hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend solely because he finds himself wanting it to last. 
Even without the sex. Even with the intense edging he’s being put through. Even with the fact that he’s hard as a rock as Jay attempts to scold him, he doesn’t feel bad.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jay finally offers to the silence of the room upon turning off the movie. “Did we not agree that you’d–”
Jake huffs out, annoyed for the first time.
“Dude, shut up already.” He rolls his eyes as he turns to his friend, wincing at the way his cock is going soft and sensitive. “Don’t tell me you didn’t fucking see me try to stop her.”
Jay thinks that through for a moment. Not entirely blaming Jake for like, eventually giving up and letting you touch him but also entirely pissed that it’s happening for Jake, and not for himself. 
“You did a bad fucking job of it.” He gripes back to him. “If you give in to the fact that she has no self-respect, you’re just as bad as Sunghoon and I’ll just go find someone else to take care of her.” 
Jake pauses because he's right in terms of the deal but god. It’s not like he can just out and say “hey, so i think i actually like her and wouldn’t be against actually dating her, like for real, also i hate the way you talk to her so if you don’t stop i might have to punch you in the face.” 
“I’m not going to give in.” Jake lies, knowing for a fact that it’s only a matter of time before he does. “She still cries over Sunghoon and I’m genuinely trying to make this situation better here, Jay, so fucking relax.”
Jay wants to believe him, but truly, he doesn’t. Solely because there’s no way he won't give in considering what he’s just witnessed. At this point, you might actually end up wanting to be with Jake for good, and Jay will lose his control of the whole situation. 
“Plus, you can’t just go find some stranger to do this, they’d definitely fuck her, day one.” Jake makes a good point to his friend, reminding him that he isn’t the dumb guy he’s parading as. 
Jay does take those words into account. Honestly, he really would have the entire control taken from him if he paid someone else to do this. At least he can threaten Jake with friendship, or guilt him or something if he does step over the line.
“Hurry it up then, I don’t want this shit to last all summer.” Jay finally huffs out, slightly defeated that this is his fault anyway, but still trusting his best friend and understanding him on some level. 
“Okay, I’ll go ask her to be my girlfriend right now.” Jake smiles. “The sooner I ask, the sooner she gets over him, and the sooner all of this can be over with, right?”
He hopes he’s wrong.
Jay nods reluctantly, and Jake is instantly out of the room and able to breathe the biggest sigh of relief in his life. It’s insane how he’d rather be with you over his own childhood best friend, but whatever. Life works in mysterious ways or something. 
And as Jay sits in silence, glaring at the spot on the bed where you had his best friend’s dick in your hand, all he can do is feel angry.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You hear the soft knock on your door and already know exactly who it is. It’s not Jay, it’s not his father, and it’s certainly not your mother. 
The knock is gentle, almost reluctant despite knowing he’s allowed to walk into your room at any point, without so much as asking. 
“Come in.” You smile to yourself, trying to push the awkward situation that just happened out of your mind. 
The door opens and Jake steps inside, looking to the floor and seemingly avoiding eye contact with you. Part of you wonders if it’s because he finally had the balls to let you touch his dick, but another part of you knows it’s probably because Jay just chewed his ass out for letting you do it right in front of him.
“Sorry about doing that,” You look away now, trying to deafen the silence in your room into a numbness that doesn’t feel nearly as awkward as it does right now. “I shouldn’t have done that in front of Jongseo-”
Jake immediately shakes his head at your words, sitting down on your bed and grabbing your face in his hands. 
It’s a shock, actually, that only now he acts the way you expected from the beginning. 
“It’s my fault.” Jake explains, holding your face to look at him. “I wanted to make you my girlfriend before we did anything more–” He continues, already leaning in to kiss you for the first time without shying away from it. “I didn’t want you to think I was just trying to fuck you.” 
And man, that hit you right in the heart, especially because he said it, and then immediately kissed you before letting you answer him. As if he was afraid you’d say no or something. As if he’s trying to prove something right now. 
He certainly is proving it too, surprising you in the way he’s a decent kisser though not entirely great at it. Such a confident and pretty boy seems to not have nearly as much experience with girls as he lets on. That alone was something you picked up on, because let’s be honest. 
No one but Jake would get that obviously hard at a restaurant over spilled water on your tits. 
And when he pulls back from the kiss, he feels elated in the way he just lied straight to Jay’s face. Promising to follow through with the deal, which also held the promise of no physical contact with you. 
He really walked straight out of his best friend’s room, went to your room, and kissed you. He couldn’t be prouder of it when he pulls back, heart pounding in defiance, and looking at you for an answer. 
“You want me to be your girlfriend?” Is the first thing you ask, feeling his hands fall from your face and land against both sides of your hips as you look at him. “And that’s why you let me make a fool of myself trying to get in your pants?”
You both smile before chuckling and looking away from each other at how blatant that question was, because you both know how true it is. 
Only Jake knows how true it isn’t supposed to be though. 
“Yeah,” He answers, looking away from you and ignoring the chill on his shoulders from the air in your room. He really should stop trying to dress like a slutty man for you, honestly. It’s no wonder you were all over him.
“I kind of don’t think it would be a good idea if I fuck my guitar teacher’s sister without at least taking her on a few date’s first, you know?”
“Hah,” You roll your eyes briefly before flopping back against your pillows and feeling the way his hands fall lower to the top of your thighs. They’re warm, and big. “You’re always around and I can’t say Jongseong has that many friends to begin with.”
Jake almost feels bad that he knows you’re right. 
“Arguably, you’re probably his only friend and he would feel embarrassed knowing you don’t even see him as one to begin with.” You laugh at how sad Jay really is as a person. “Just your guitar teacher, huh?”
Someone so entitled, so fucking rude. If anything, he should know by now that his lack of friends are determined entirely by his shitty personality. 
“I can see that,” Jake nods, staying put as you blink up at him from the pillows. “I mean, I like hanging out with him but I don’t necessarily like the way he talks to you. I can imagine he’d kill me if he knew I kissed you.”
You roll your eyes.
“I can assure you, Jake. He doesn’t give two fucks about me.” Your arms reach out for him, and immediately he intertwines his fingers with yours.
And it feels good for him to do. To have a girlfriend in some way, despite it not technically being real to anyone but himself and you. After all, a relationship built on a lie can’t last, can it? 
Maybe he really should just stick to the plan and pull back before it’s too late. Maybe you wouldn’t even be interested in him if he didn’t act this way. Or if he didn’t dress this way. Or talk this way. Or play guitar. 
How could he ever think he’s even in the right to do this to begin with? What? For two hundred a month? God, he fucked up yet, he doesn’t want to turn back now. 
There’s a chance it can still work, right? He can at least enjoy the time he has with you before he inevitably has to break up with you, right? 
You don’t have to know about the deal, and Jay doesn’t have to know about how he intends to break the terms of it. 
…Right? 
“So,” Jake finally says, looking away from you before turning and falling forward over you, keeping his fingers tightly locked with yours above your head as he lands his face in front of yours. “Will you be my girlfriend then?” 
You smile shyly, looking down before making direct eye contact with him again. Noting how his lips constantly form a natural pout in silence, and the way his eyes are always so bright. 
“What about when my break is over and I have to go back to campus?” You ask reluctantly, hoping that he isn’t like Sunghoon. “Are you just going to stop talking to me?”
Jake hates that he is in a position where he has to lie, going back and forth in his mind of whether to betray himself or his own best friend.
“I like you, you know?” He says, not breaking eye contact. Trying to will his words now to stick with you through the inevitable break up if that's what it comes down to. “I’d come see you every weekend.” 
You smile. 
“So, what? You think I’m just gonna let you be so far away all the time?” He continues, instilling a sense of comfort in your chest. “You think I’d be able to stay away from you for a whole semester? I can barely make it a few days as is.”
The way he chuckles at how silly your question sounds makes you feel…wanted? Almost needed?
And as you look up at him, with that mess of fluffy hair and big, sparkling eyes, all you can think about is how lucky you feel to have so many new people in your life this summer. Even Jay. You appreciate the fact that he brought Jake into your life, even if accidental. 
You’re happy your mom is in love, happy that his father appears to be good for her, happy that Jake is here right now, treating you like a goddamn person. 
Happy that Sunghoon hasn’t texted you. 
Happy that even Jay encourages you to keep your break-up status with the man, showing that he cares on some level for your well being. 
“You’re too good to be true, you know?” You say, sending Jake into an absolute world or happiness.
He’s never had a girl tell him that. Let alone a girl so fucking pretty.
“That still doesn’t answer the question, babe.” He finally says, ticking his tongue as if he’s being cheeky. 
“Oh, right.” You roll your eyes with a smile. “I thought I was being obvious with my answer, but I forgot that you’re kind of dumb.” You add with a smile, lifting your head to kiss against his nose. 
“I am kinda dumb, aren’t I?”
If only you knew how true that statement is. No GPA can explain why he feels so stupidly attracted and attached to you. He can’t explain it to anyone but you. 
Jay would kill him if he knew how real he wants this to be. 
“A little, yeah.” You laugh, kissing his cheek this time. 
“For you, at least.” He whispers, feeling like he’s being far more real than he should be and loving every second of it. “So, be my girlfriend.”
You roll your eyes again, lending him an even brighter laugh.
“You seriously think I wouldn’t?” 
And he just smiles, dipping down to kiss you again for the second time. 
You can’t help but feel elated by it, and the way he seems to break how eager he’s been for this. Elated by the fact that he waited, and he has done nothing but respect you as a person. 
Arguably, you don’t think you could ever refuse to be his girlfriend. With that rough fashion sense and entirely too-soft personality. It’s such a stark contrast when you think about it.
All of the cocky dirty talk, all of his boldness? It was clearly just a front that would make you like him because this is not at all what you expected. If anything, it’s a pleasant surprise that he did that for you. Showing off, trying to get your attention, then flipping on a dime when you give him the time of day. 
“You’re a lot sweeter than I thought you’d be.” You finally whisper out. “Honestly, I expected you to fuck the lights out of me and never call back the first day we met.”
Jake chuckles, trying to avoid how much that statement turns him on because on instinct he knows he shouldn’t be doing this.
“Can I be honest?” He asks against your lips, lending a small lick to the bottom one with a nod. “I really, really, wanted to.”
You pause, opening your eyes and seeing that he’s already looking at you. 
“I would have called you though.” He smiles, calming the immediate insecurity you felt about his statement.
Now though? The thought of knowing Jake wanted to fuck you since day one only drives you to like him more than you already did. 
“Oh yeah?” You smile, feeling his fingers release from yours and move right back to your hips. “Does it make me a bad person to say I would have let you?”
Jay would have called you a slut again over that. 
“No, babe.” He shakes his head with an amazed chuckle. “If that makes you a bad person, wouldn’t it make me a bad person too?”
Wow, the first man to ever speak to you as an equal. 
Jay would probably call him a slut too. 
“What about now, then?”
God, Jake really can’t resist. He’s already waited so long, and now that you’re officially his girlfriend…kind of, why should he? Jay doesn’t need to know that he’s trying to think up some way to get out of the deal. Really, Jay should be happy that you’ll be with someone who actually cares for you, right? 
After all, this whole plan was to help you. 
Why should it matter if it ends a little bit differently? All he needs to do is sit him down and talk to him. All he needs to do is not accept any more money, right? Technically, Jay isn’t the type to be that bad of a person. Like, he wouldn’t actually be mad that Jake caught feelings, right?
He’s not breaking the rules if it’s true. 
“If you can be quiet–” Jake says, leaning back and glancing around the room. “Jay was really mad about what happened in his room, I don’t want him to kick my ass thinking I came in here and railed his sister.”
You roll your eyes.
“Jay doesn’t give a shit. He probably thinks we’ve already been fucking.”
God, the dynamic between you and your step brother is so fucking weird, Jake thinks. You have such a weird view of him, and he seems to have such a weird view of you. You really think Jay doesn’t give a shit while he’s the one who seems entirely too protective of you while also being an absolute scum-bag towards you. 
“Still,” Jake pauses, pulling back entirely and sitting over you. “I’d rather your parents not walk in.”
“Then, lock the door?” You offer, eyes scanning his body and noting the way he’s always hard when he’s with you. Those tight jeans do nothing to save him the embarrassment, and part of you wonders how often he wore them on purpose. 
Plus, you can imagine he’s probably suffering after having already played with him briefly in Jay’s room. 
“Right. Doors have locks on them.” Jake dead-pans, standing up and wincing at the way his cock is entirely too obvious about what he wants to do right now. “I’ll just–” He points his thumb to your door before locking it and practically leaps back on the bed with you, laughing all the way.
And you know, the last thing Jake expected today was to share his first real touch with you, first real kiss with you, or his first time actually, like, pushing to break the rules. He’s a little nervous, seeing as how he’s maybe had sex with two girls in his entire life, but still.
He can’t possibly be bad at it, right? 
It doesn’t process in his mind how he’s absolutely breaking boundaries right now, and even if he did, he wouldn’t care. The way you laugh along with him sets his heart aflame, and the way you look at him shows him that this could be real. He could truly be your boyfriend, slowly reverting back to his normal self under the guise of a “bad boy” phase or something. 
And now, as you look at him, you note how soft he truly is despite all of those dirty words he said previously. He’s really just sitting on your bed, laughing like a boy in love and it makes you feel entirely different than how Sunghoon makes you feel.
“It’s nice, you know?” You say, glancing down when you reach out to him again, mostly to resume the position and pull him back on top of you.
“Hm?” He hums, following the pull and landing both of his hands on either side of your head, staring down at you as if he could eat straight through your chest and to your heart. “What is?”
“The fact that there’s someone here for me, I guess?” 
Ah, he’s a goner. Sorry Jay, the deal is over. 
“Do you think Sunghoon will try to get you back again?” Jake follows up. “You know I won’t let him, right? You’re my girlfriend now.” 
You smile, lifting your head a bit to kiss his plush top lip before shaking your head. 
“I’m sure he’ll try, but I don’t think I’m interested in him anymore,” You start, hearing the buzzing in the air due to the pure electric feeling in the room. “Now that I’ve met you, anyway.”
This is the point in which Jake is supposed to move back from you. This is when he’s supposed to whisper to Jay that the deal is done, and that Sunghoon is no longer an issue. This is the point that Jake absolutely shouldn’t be rolling off you, feeling your soft pillows hug around his head, and pulling you on top of him instead.
It’s like you’re meant to straddle him with how perfect you look right now.
“Oh yeah?” He smiles, losing the persona he’s supposed to have, unable to pretend like he isn’t smitten at this moment. 
“Yeah.” You say, smiling on top of him and feeling his length pulse beneath you.
You’ve wanted to get on him like this so bad, since the very first night you met him. He waited, he respected you, and now? He’s your boyfriend. He’d let you, right?
“You seem happy,” You rock back on him without warning, listening closely to the way he sighs out at the pressure you offer. “You said if I can be quiet, right?” 
He nods eagerly, unable to speak as he watches you move on him, hands reaching to brush the tufts of his dark hair out of his face. 
“Can’t make any promises, Jake–” You add, reaching down to the hem of your shirt and lifting it off of you in one motion. “What about you?”
Jake is stunned audibly. You heard his breathing hitch when your shirt blinded you from looking at him for a split second. And who could blame him? He knows he’s staring at the way your tits bounce with just the small lift of your shirt, bulging only partly over the lining of one of the cups.
 Immediately he throws one hand up, cupping one in his hand and bucking his hips upward at the ping of arousal centering itself in his body. 
“Can you be quiet?” You continue playfully, placing your hand over his and the other behind you, unclasping the bra with ease and letting it fall onto his chest. 
Jake immediately shakes his head because, no. Absolutely not. He will not be able to be quiet if any of his jerk off sessions regarding you are anything to go by. In fact, this situation could be quite telling about his lack of experience with women. This situation could be quite fucking telling to anyone outside of this room, actually.
“I thought not,” You smile, reaching down and lifting slightly to remove his ratty old t-shirt. “I don’t care if Jongseong hears anyway. He’s a weirdo, would probably be jealous.”
Jake would like to think you’re wrong about that, but something inside of him agrees with you. The way Jay reacts towards you is fucking weird and ultimately uncalled for. Then again, if Jake had to come home to a brand new sister, who is like– really hot, Jake would probably have a dilemma on his own.
Still, that’s kinda gross if it’s the case, so he tries not to think about it. 
“Let him hear then.” Jake finally says, confidence boosted solely because he is now thinking with his dick. 
His hands fall straight to your waist once you get his shirt off of him, his eyes stay glued to your tits, and all he can do is push and pull you over his length, praying that these tight jeans don’t rub him raw before he gets to pull it out. 
You can tell his body is acting on its own too, with the way he seems entirely gone for you over something so basic in terms of foreplay. After all, this is just grinding. It’s just tits. But you get it, as you stare directly at his toned body that has remained partially hidden from you until now. 
And it’s the way you’re just as shameless as he is when it gets hot and heavy. Your lips don’t leave his for the most part after that, at least until you hear his muffled moans as you’re soaking straight through your shorts and onto him. 
Both of you are kind of moaning into the kiss actually, and to you it sounds so loud, but you’re sure no one in the home has realized yet. Plus, locks. Doors have locks, so even if they did, you wouldn’t stop anyway. 
You can feel the way Jake wants to push, how he’s thinking a mile a minute in the way he kisses you. His tongue seems eager and messy, trying to kiss every part of you, trying to lick and taste your mouth in ways Sunghoon wouldn’t even do. 
Arguably, it’s sexy that he does this. So messy and dominating in the kiss despite being worse at it than he was when he came into the room. There’s something about the confidence in being bad at living life that turns you on. He could be bad at everything and you think you’d still want this with him. 
Even the way he moves you on his length is messy and not at all thought out. It’s jerky and almost frantic in the way he thrusts up out of time with your movements, like he’s chasing a consistent pressure on the whole of his cock. And like, if he wants that, maybe he should just pull it out for you. 
After all, even with the messy boy lying under you, kissing you like he’s desperate for it, you’re still wetter than you’ve ever been with another person.That’s an honest truth you can come to terms with too. Someone obviously so inexperienced? How does he make it feel better than Sunghoon’s expert hands? Fuck if you know, but you can’t help but love every second of how Jake writhes under you.
He acts like he’s never felt so good in his life, and that alone makes you feel entirely needed.
“Let me,” You say in a wet whisper against his lips, sliding your hand down between your bodies and attempting to undo his pants. “Jake, take them off.” You whine shortly after, unsuccessful with unbuttoning them on your own. 
“God, fuck, yeah, okay.” He responds frantically, out of breath. 
He lifts up, feeling you shift on his lap as you stay in place to your best ability and his eyes don’t leave yours when he undoes his own pants, blinking up with a pretty, glassy gaze and messy dark hair. 
All you can do in that moment is hug his head into your chest due to the sheer amount of endearment he gives you, brushing your fingers through his hair and halting his hands where they stay on his undone jeans. There, you grind, hiccuping what resembles a moan solely because he is genuinely just so fucking attractive. You can’t help it, you really can’t.
He’s in awe of the way you use him, hugging his face against your tits, which only allows him to attach his mouth to one of them and moan himself at what you’re doing to him. God, sign him up if this is how you fuck. Holding a person in place, grinding against them, smothering them with your pretty tits, moaning the whole time? He could give you everything. He wants to give you everything. All of him, all of the world, every shiny trinket that’s ever been made. 
Honestly? It doesn’t even matter that he couldn’t get his cock out yet, this is something he’s never had a girl do to him and it makes him feel entirely wanted. It’s an addicting feeling too, knowing that you’re chasing the feeling of what he has to offer under these restricting pants, and not being able to wait for it. 
“Babe–” Jake mumbles around your nipple, trying to fumble his pants down but being unable to, considering you’re grinding on his lap right now. “Baby, let me get it out–”
It’s kind of insane how you could have gotten off from doing this, fully clothed, fully ready to do it. But, he’s right, and that deep register of his raspy voice only drives you to pull off of him as quickly as you can.
“Mm, sorry, you’re just so,” You start, falling off of his lap and spreading your legs open to show him the wet spot on your shorts. “Shit.” You stop yourself, seeing the way he freezes upon seeing how you display yourself to him. 
“Shit.” Jake follows up the same words, not even caring how stupid he must look trying to kick these death-grip skinny jeans off of him. 
You do stifle a little chuckle at that blatant show of arousal from him, and you do him a solid by removing your shorts too, heart pounding and face warm when you see his cock spring free once he finally gets the pants down his thighs. 
Honestly, you don’t even let him take them off in full before you’re shoving him back to your pillows and smiling at the way he gives you a kind of half-drowsy smirk. You watch his eyes stare you down and you can tell he likes what he sees probably about as much as you do. 
“You look so nice in my bed,” You start, crawling over him and grabbing his hand, putting it straight between your legs. “I’ve thought about you every night.”
His eyes roll back in a glorious show of how much of a loser he truly is. A loser for you in full right now, as he feels the wettest part of you yearn for him. His fingers slip and slide so easy, and he plays with your folds in an instant. Drenching his fingers to the point that his own leaking cock wishes you’d do the same for him. 
“Me too.” He says, unable to string together a full sentence. “All night.”
You tick your tongue and coo out at him, feeling the way his fingers are gentle, staring down at the way his cock flexes every few seconds. 
“What do you think about?” You ask now, crawling over his legs and leaning down to blow against his cock. You see it twitch and stand proudly at the feeling of your warm breath hitting it. “I’ll tell you, if you tell me.”
His fingers can no longer reach the wettest part of you with the way you’ve moved on him, but he doesn’t mind considering when he looks down, you’re smiling at him with his length inches from your face. He chews against his bottom lip at the image before slipping his fingers into his mouth, tasting what could be if you’d let him. 
“Nothing as good as this.” He manages to get out from around his fingers as he stares down at you, elated by how he would never let another man experience this from you. 
You smile, nodding at the way he doesn’t lie before you lightly tap two fingers at the head of his cock, feeling the precum dribble with each tap enough that it’s almost dripping down his length. You focus on it only for a moment before you use the wet to coat his length in one long stroke. 
Another beautiful groan from him, fingers still wedged in his mouth as his eyes roll back again. Then, he’s rolling his head forward, looking down at how your hands grip him, and how your lips look so pretty when you kiss the underside of his length. God, it feels like he’s neglected himself despite jerking off every night to this exact image. Or rather, something that resembles this but could never feel as heavenly. 
And when you trail your lips down, kissing against his heavy and cum-filled sack, you feel his entire body flinch in sensitivity and a chuckled moan come from him. 
“Sorry–” he mumbles, reaching a hand down to brush against your cheek when you come back up to look at him. “No one has ever done that to m-”
“I’d do just about anything to you right now.” You cut him off, licking against the head of his cock and enveloping his entire length. 
He has no words, but so, so many thoughts. Would you really? Anything? Goddamn, he would do anything to you too. Not just right now, but any time. All you’d need to do is ask. All you’d need to do is push him down and sit on him. 
And it’s kind of cute really, how he speaks with his body alone. The way his hands grip anything he can get ahold of when you continue to take his cock further and further into your mouth. Up until the size of it is restricting your airways and he’s stuttering against the sheets with a death grip.
He could come right now if he isn’t careful, and he does his best to hold off. 
His grip stays tight against your sheets when you breathe through your nose and flex your tongue against the underside of his cock, the weight of his length making it nearly impossible to do. It’s great, actually, how he doesn’t fuck into your throat and render you unable to utilize your own skills to please him. 
The sweet, salty flavor of his precum is constant until you take him in too deep to taste it, and when you flick your eyes up, you can see that he’s amazed by how you do this. Part of you wonders if he’s ever been deepthroated at all, with the way he appears to breathe through it and tries to feel each clench of your throat.
God, your mouth is so tight around him too. So warm, tight, and perfect for him. With the way your lips stretch and your cheeks hollow out. He can’t bear to stare at you for too long when you’re doing this. Already he’s trying to hold in moans far too loud, already he knows that one right clench around him, he’s not going to last. 
And you love it. Quite literally, you are in love with the way he seems to struggle through the pleasure. So blatant and unashamed of how much he likes what you’re doing. Because honestly? Most men act like you could do more, most act as if you’ll never give the best head of their life.
Jake though? He makes you feel like you’re the only person who could render him a whimpering mess. Part of you wonders if he even knows how loud he’s already being. With his rasps and grunts, with his higher pitched sounds coming from his chest and forcing their way out of his wet and bitten lips. 
He really looks like this is where he belongs. Against your pillows, in your bed, cock out, eyes rolled back, hair cute and fluffed out against your pillows. 
You pull back slightly when your eyes threaten to become too wet to see him, easing the tension in your throat with each inch of his length that leaves you. And when you fully pull off of him with a pretty and wet little “pop!” sound, he regains all of his composure and stares right at you. 
“Holy fuck–” He says with a heaving breath. 
“Jake,” You start, clearing your throat before using your hand to gently jerk him off, lips landing against the head of his cock again as you speak. “You kind of act like a virgin, which is funny considering all of the things you said to me before.”
You smile as you say the words, precum still coating your lips.
He lends you a crooked smile, feeling entirely like himself in this moment and not at all ashamed of his lack of experience. He would think that comment would scare him, like he’s doing bad or something. But the way your hand works his cock is just enough to tell him that you love it. 
“‘M not a virgin.” He says, voice uneven. “But I can’t say I’ve fucked that many girls.”
That elates you. The fact that he’s so real about it. The idea that he held off with you for a reason that didn’t involve disinterest. It’s almost like he prefers sex to mean something, which is a long forgotten concept to you and anyone else in your life it seems. 
“That’s hot.” You comment, halting your hand at the base of his cock before releasing it entirely and crawling further up to straddle him right where you want him.
If he wasn’t already gone for you, he is now. He can feel the warmth of your pussy sit against his already sensitive and needy cock and it takes everything in him not to groan out. 
And well, he appears to have zero control of his volume because he does, in fact, groan out. 
Loud enough to probably alert the person who he wishes didn’t exist right now. 
You moan back at his desperate action, wiggling your hips as if to dig his cock into your thigh, smearing the mess seeping through your panties onto him. 
“All this time, I thought about how you could hold me down,” You start, noting how he is nothing like how you imagined he would be. “How you could fuck me hard, and deep,” You slide forward and back a little quicker now, letting the head of his cock bump your clit. “How you could ruin me if you wanted to.”
You’re the one ruining him though. You both know it. 
“It looks like I was wrong about those thoughts though, wasn’t I?” You smile at his panic when he shoots his eyes open. 
“No!” Jake half-moans, louder than he meant to once again. “I can do that.”
You wouldn’t have believed him if it weren’t for the fact that he definitely tries, lifting from your pillows and tipping you back onto your mattress. Before you even know it, your panties are off of you and he’s grabbing your legs, moving them to wrap around his waist.
Then he just stares at you with flushed cheeks and wet lips.
“I can do anything you want.” He continues, snaking his hands under your ass just to lift your lower half against the underside of his cock. “You want me to hold you down? Fuck you hard?” 
You nod, eyes sparkling up at him with a pleased sound at how he shifts who he is entirely for you. Thirty seconds ago you wouldn’t have expected him to change up like this, and it’s only lends you more to like about him. 
“Hold onto me, then.” He gives a gentle warning, wishing he could have like, ate you out first or something, but he’s too far gone now to imagine doing anything other than what you ask of him. He can get his head between your thighs another time, yes. He can lick you clean, making sure you know how much he wants you. 
And you do, you hold onto him, legs around his waist, hands in his hair, feeling the weight of his cock sit against your wet folds while his hands hold you in place.
And it’s like, woah. Okay, you already experienced how big he is but feeling it there is another thing. He’s quick to stuff your blanket up under you to keep you lifted, and then he’s immediately using one free hand to press down on your stomach, and the other holding his cock as he slides it himself through your folds.
He stares down at the way his length looks between your heat, so wet and glistening from the mix of arousal the two of you drip out. You wish you could see it too, with the way he wets his lips and keeps the bottom one caught between his teeth. 
And when you moan, his eyes flick up to your face, so innocent looking at this moment despite your kissed lips and heaving breath. Tits on full display, pussy spread out around his cock, god. He’s in heaven. He can most definitely hold you down and fuck you deep, it’s like he was born to do it, if he’s being honest. 
And then, in one movement, he pushes his cock down with his thumb and slides in, bottoming out in one motion while keeping his eyes on your face. With the way your jaw is slack, and your eyes close in pleasure. 
He does much the same, holding his breath as he feels the way your soft walls hug around him, strangling his length in a way he truly needed. You’re so tight, god, so, so, so wet. At this point, he’s not even doing it because you are asking him to, he’s doing it because he can’t help it. His body loses composure the second he bottoms out and feels the entirety of how much this pussy wants him. 
Jake doesn’t let you adjust, hell, barely even lets himself adjust before there's an echo of his thighs meeting the flesh of your ass. Consistent, deep, hard. Just like you wanted. 
Just like he needed.
And it gets to the point where Jake is burying himself so deep, that you can barely make out words. Moaning his name in hiccups, trying to say something but always stopping short of it. 
“J-Ja-J.” You hiccup through each thrust, waiting for him to kiss you, wanting him to kiss you, wanting him to ruin you like you asked, like he promised.
And when Jake is out of breath, listening to that pretty little stuttered mantra of his name, he does lean down to kiss you. Tongue immediately licking against yours to the point that he swears he feels little dribbles of desperate saliva leave the corners of his mouth.
All of it is hot breath, wet, wet, fucking wet. All over. 
His hips move faster, and he drives his cock in deeper, his moans only come out louder with each stutter of his name, and honestly? The death grip your legs have on him, keeping him from pulling out of you too far? He has no idea how he’s lasted this long already, but he loves himself a little more knowing that he’s making you feel good. 
“Yeah,” He grunts out, pulling one hand back to hold your leg tightly against him, and the other falling on his elbow above your head. He makes direct eye contact with you here, just inches from your face as he speaks with full confidence. “Say my name,” He says almost defiantly. Hoping Jay hears it and knows how good he can be for you. “I’ve been dying to hear you say it like this.” 
His thrusts somehow remain consistent as you shoot your hand to your clit, rubbing harshly at his words. You give him exactly what he wants, moaning his name in full against his lips with a desperate and bitten kiss from you, all while your pussy practically strangles the base of his cock with each deep thrust. 
His moan sounds relieved when you repeat his name, he swallows your hiccups up, proud that despite how fucking bad he probably is at fucking, you seem to love it. 
And when you rub against your clit just right, feeling his abdomen press your fingers against it harder, you continue his name. 
Breathing it out in a gasp before your orgasm hits you and he somehow manages to fuck you straight through it. His stuttered name coming out with each slam, never quite able to moan it in full again once you’re seeing stars. 
And when your ears pop, and your eyes feel tired, you look at him.
You feel him.
His cock moving desperately in and out of you, the sweat on his brow proving to you how much he wanted to do this to you and for you. 
He wants it so bad.
He wants you so bad. 
You reach up, feeling the sweat in his hairline when you run your fingers through the mess of hair on his head and push his face down. Your legs fall from around him, and instantly he’s moaning. 
“You don’t need to pull out.”
“Fuck–” He stutters, hips meeting your thighs once more before you feel him release strings of thick cum in you. Amazed by that single sentence, half-not even realizing a condom was nowhere in sight anyway. He doesn’t know if he could have pulled out to begin with but the words of encouragement shoot his orgasm straight through him. 
And the way he moans through it with uneven breaths? Perfect. He sounds perfect. The way saliva dribbles from the sides of his mouth as his lips desperately kiss against your neck and shoulders? More perfect. 
The way he pulls back to look at you after the fact? Twitching inside of you, unmoving, and not pulling out? God.
The two of you lay like this for a while, his cum bubbling out of you from around his sensitive and softened length by the time he finally decides to pull out. Which saddens him a little bit because he hates that he can’t have his cock in you at all times, but still.
And then the panic washes over him. There’s no fucking way Jay doesn’t know what he just did, and the fact that there were no harsh knocks on your door? That’s even more scary. 
His heart rate picks up instantly, but you somehow calm him as you continue running your hands through his hair, down to the back of his neck and scratching.
It’s like he mewls at the feeling, nuzzling against you as close as he can get before sighing. 
“Jay is going to kill me.” He mumbles against your skin with closed eyes. 
You hum out a small chuckle, feeling the sticky mess between your legs and somehow not feeling as grossed out as you normally would by this. 
“Jongseong isn’t going to do shit.” You smile, shifting to sit up and feeling more cum drip out of you. “I actually can’t wait to see the look on his face when I drag you to shower with me.”
Jake panics internally but he can’t stop himself from smiling at you with a nod. 
And he does follow you into the bathroom. Straight past the bedroom of his glaring best friend with the wide open door. 
He pretends to not hear the way the door slams when the two of you get into the bathroom, and desperately begins thinking of a way to make this work out for the better. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jay heard all of it. Every slap of a cock driving into you, every breath, moan, giggle, and every fucking dirty word the two of you shared.
He tries not to think of the way he slouched against his bedroom door, straining his ears to hear all of it too. He tries not to think of how his hand could never live up to whatever the fuck you were doing to Jake either. 
Time and time again he could get off to the thought of you, but each time it just becomes more and more unbearable to see you face to face after. This time? Having to hear you with someone else? Someone that he, himself, was supposed to trust? It’s the most unbearable, and it hurts him inside to know that you liked it. 
It isn’t fair that he was stuck, alone against his door, biting back moans of a situation he hated more than anything. His best friend was in there fucking the daylights out of the only girl Jay has ever wanted like this, and all he could do was fuck his fist and release a half-sobbed moan in his own silence over it?
Honestly, the orgasm hit him harder than he’s ever felt when he heard you moaning the name of his best friend. The stuttered breaths of Jake’s unfinished name sounded just like his name, and his brain went insane wondering if that’s what you’d sound like if his cock was pounding you. 
Would you stutter like that for him? Would you moan out his name in such a pretty way too? 
“Jay! Jay! Jay!” 
It replayed in his mind over and over again up until he saw the two of you in the hallway. Jake appeared to be ashamed to look at him, avoiding his gaze. 
Jay felt pathetic, angry, and entirely empty. Jake fucked up big time, betraying his trust just minutes after promising the opposite. There is so much shame within him right now, but none of it lives up to the fucking rage he feels towards Jake.
Never in his life has he ever felt so betrayed by not one person, but two. As if you knew you had such a hold on him to betray him at all, but still. It pisses him off more than anything that he still has to hear the two of you in the bathroom now, unashamed of what just happened behind your closed bedroom door like your parents aren’t just downstairs and probably aware of what their slut child was doing. 
He seethes for what feels like hours. All the way until Jake slinks out of your room after the parents went to bed, and into the night without a word to him. 
Days, even. As the sounds of you fucking Jake haunts him. 
What’s worse? Jake ignores his texts even when he’s being nice. Inviting him over for a “lesson”, begging him to come talk, saying he isn’t angry he just wants to know where the deal stands. He ignores him even on his payday, which arguably, Jay wasn’t going to pay him this time but as a bribe to get him to talk to him? Of course he texted him again.
And with the way you’re leaving every other night, Jay can tell it’s because you’re going to see him outside of his control. Likely because Jake suggested it, and no part of him feels thankful that he can’t hear what the two of you are up to behind his back.
He could rip his hair out at this point, when each family dinner feels empty and filled with disgust. Looking at you and wondering what it must have felt like for Jake to get between those thighs that seem to open for just any man that would lie to you. You eat quietly, sometimes shooting him a happy smile as if you can’t tell that he’s rotting in front of you over the fact that you’re happy with someone that isn’t him.
He can barely look at you when you’re home without the thoughts flooding his brain, rendering him jealous and resentful of everyone in his life whether they’re involved in this situation or not. He doesn’t hold back remarks each time you come back home either, bright eyes with a sex glow surrounding you.
“Out spreading your legs again, I take it?” or  “Can never get fucked enough, can you?”
He says them proudly to you, as if it’s any indication that he likes you far more than Jake ever could. But, to his dismay, you look happier and brush him off without a single furrowed brow or argument. You’ve been nicer, and you even walk with better posture now. 
He wishes you would argue with him about how untrue his words are, but you don’t. Which renders him only further angry because you don’t deny it, and that you agree with him. The issue is that Jake is on the receiving end of why those words are true.
Jay only wants them to be true if he is on the receiving end.
He wants you to spread your legs every other day for him. He wants you to never be fucked enough….by him. Not by Sunghoon. Not by fucking Jake.
And then? Three long and agonizing days after Jake’s payday, he finally texts.
Jake: we need to talk. 
Jay: come over then
Jake: no, i’m not coming back to your house until we talk. 
Jay: yours then?
Jake: yeah
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Things were instantly awkward for Jay when he stepped through Jake’s door. It’s like he could tell you’ve been here recently by the feeling in the room alone. You always leave a room so alluring, so stupidly bright. 
Jake even appears happier, much like you do when he manages to take note of how you act back at home. 
Still, Jay doesn’t come too far into the house out of fear he may very well end up breaking things if it comes down to it. Instead, he stands in the doorway, shoes still tied on his feet, eyes still heavy with an exhaustion that only he can explain. 
“I know you know what’s been going on,” Jake starts, raising his hands in defense as if to try and save both his friendship and new relationship. “I want you to know that I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but it did, and I want to at least tell you that I’d treat her right.”
Jay stares forward, feeling his imaginary monarchy fall. His gaze goes straight through Jake and to the room behind him as he listens to him say words that any sibling would love to hear. All he can feel right now is buzzing, goosebumps on his skin threatening his sanity over the fact that he's always gotten everything he ever wanted, except for you. 
And he didn’t even want you like this until he knew he couldn’t have you.
“You promised me.” Jay starts with a harsh tone in his voice. “You went straight into her room and started fucking her? And now you have the audacity to ask me if you can date her?!” He bites out with angry brows, now clenching his fists.
Jake should have known better than to think he would be reasonable about this, given how he’s acted throughout the entire situation. Still, he’ll never stop thinking how fucking weird it is. How Jay is entirely protective over you despite consistently making sexual remarks, staring for a little too long, paying a stranger to date you just so you get away from your ex boyfriend. 
For all Jake knows, if it wasn’t for you confirming the situation, he could argue Jay would have made up lies about Sunghoon being a bad boyfriend too. 
Jay is jealous and Jake fucking sees it. 
“You literally paid me to date her. So what if I actually want to be with her now? Why is that such a bad thing?!” Jake retorts, throwing his hands up as if everything Jay is saying doesn’t make any sense to a normal person.
Which is true.
“I paid you to pretend, not to actually want her!” Jay raises his voice again, despite being in Jake’s home, despite being his long time childhood friend. Over all, trying to appear more threatening as a means to regain his control. 
“I don’t understand why you’re not okay with this.” Jake starts, much calmer than Jay. “What? You're gonna keep her from dating anyone ever again?”
Jay stands down at those words, knowing that if he could he would. Knowing that it must be incredibly telling to Jake, who isn’t as stupid as he acts.
“Why? You’re mad because you can’t be with her? And if you can’t, then no one can?” Jake adds with a smile. 
Immediately Jay storms up to him, fisting Jake’s shirt collar in his hand. 
“You think I want to be with trash like her?” He seethes out in a hot whisper, body telling on him in the way his words don’t match the defensive stance he takes. “I just don’t want you fucking my sister.”
“The deal is off, Jay.” Jake says in an even calmer tone, almost smiling. “Besides, I already fucked her.”
Jay intensely stares at him, anticipating the next word Jake says ending in a swift punch to the jaw.
“Multiple times.”
That breaks him. 
What he thought would end in a physical altercation appears to be ending in his own begging. His own self-pity at how sad he is for himself over this overtakes every thought in his head. He is desperate to get you, and desperate to make sure Jake leaves and never comes back.
“I’ll pay you double what i’ve already paid to break up with her.” He bribes. “Triple.”
“You can’t just keep her, she doesn’t want you.” Jake continues, pressing all of the buttons of a friend he used to trust with his life. “She doesn’t even like you.” 
Jay stands there, releasing the grip on Jake’s shirt and taking a step back. He knows Jake is right, and he hasn’t done anything to make you like him either, but still. Why does everyone else get parts of you that he can’t have? 
“Jake, you’re misunderstanding.” He tries to reply in a calmer voice. “I’ve known her since freshman year and I’ve watched her get hurt. I don’t want anyone around her.”
Jake laughs at him. And honestly? It shocks Jay with the way his friend has changed in just a matter of weeks. It’s the fact that it’s his fault. 
“You’re fucking weird, dude.” Jake continues to laugh. “You know me better than anyone and you don’t even want her to be with me? Of all people?”
Jay listens, trying to ignore how his truth has to come about another way. If Jake wants a fight over you, so be it.
“Sunghoon? Yeah, I get it but, the fact that you won’t even let me be with her? When is it what she wants?” 
“Break up with her, this is my final warning.” Jay dead-pans.
“Or what?”
Jay stands there, directly in front of a friend he just threw away over a girl. Staring at him with such immense hate in his eyes that even Jake feels a shiver run down his spine.
He says nothing when he shoves past Jake and walks straight out the front door, only speaking before closing it with a “You have a week to break it off.”
Jake rolls his eyes at the words, shrugging at the situation despite knowing the sadness of losing a friend will hit sooner or later. Really though? Deep down, Jake knew that Jay had a thing for you after the way he’s been acting. 
And it’s like, Jake knew he was bad at talking to girls but at least he doesn’t call them sluts and whores, or make them think he would rather be run over by a fucking tank than to say anything nice to them. 
What’s worse is that he gets it. You’re entirely likable, lovable even, and it’s going to take a lot more than a couple of threats to pull Jake away from you. Likewise for Jay it seems. Step-siblings aside, there’s no way Jay didn’t have a crush on you before you became his step sister. Anyone would have a crush on you.
Still. That’s weird, and there’s nothing Jay can do to have you. With or without Jake, you’d never want him after the way he spoke to you. You’d never fuck family, nor would you ever be interested in a guy like him anyway.
At least with Jake’s false persona, he acted more like his true self than he meant to when he was around you. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
A week goes by and there is no word of Jake ending it with you. 
In fact, you’re still leaving every other night to see him, coming home with a little bounce in your step and a stupid fucking smile on your face. Jay can’t stand it anymore. 
He thought a week was him being nice. Giving Jake, who he still cares about, mind you, enough time to come to terms that this will never work if Jay is around. Once again though, Jake didn’t listen. The once lost and intelligent guy now appears to know exactly what he wants in life and it’s so fucked up to Jay that it just so happens to be his girl. 
A girl that isn’t really even his, and the only ownership he has over you is a title that makes him want to gag.
Step-sister.
Jay has come to terms by now that he is willing to end his longest friendship over you. He is willing to defy his own moral standards for you. He is willing to love you, touch you, and be anything you need. The only issue is the fact that he’s already fucked it up for himself.
Jake was right in saying you don’t even like him. Not as a friend, not as a step-brother, and certainly not as a boyfriend. It truly is his own fault too, but things can change. 
And they will change. 
“Why do you act like Jake is the best thing that’s ever happened to you?” Jay asks, leaning against the frame of your bedroom door with his arms crossed. 
“Oh, am I?” You look down shyly, smiling because you can’t stop. “I guess I didn’t notice.”
Jay lends a short nod and a smile to himself, feeling more and more calm as the seconds pass and he steps into your room. 
You, on the other hand, are elated tonight solely because of the date Jake took you on just the day before. He was so sweet, and so nice. Even going as far as eating you out in his car simply because he couldn’t resist, and missed you too much in the twenty four hour span of not seeing you previously. 
You wish you could talk about it with Jay, you wish you could thank him for bringing Jake into your life and let whatever fucked-up relationship you have with him die so that it can be replaced with something more pleasant. 
“Thank you, by the way.” You say meekly as he enters and wanders around your room, staring at several of Jake’s shirts hanging in your closet. 
“Hm?” Jay responds off handedly, reaching into the closet to feel one of your soft t-shirts. 
“Thank you for letting me meet Jake. I was shocked that day you invited me to eat with you guys, so I assumed it was to help with the whole Sunghoon situation. It did help, you know?” You smile fondly, thinking of your boyfriend and how nice he looks when he’s holding your hand.
“Ah–” Jay turns to look at you, letting one of your soft shirts fall from a hanger so that he can run his fingers through his hair with a stressed look up at your ceiling. 
You watch as he takes in a deep sigh before hanging his head.
“Listen, I have something to tell you about Jake.” He finally says, walking to your door and closing it before sitting on your bed and looking at you with a serious expression. 
“What is it?” You tilt your head at him.
He watches your face of confusion, seeing how heavy the feelings are that you’ve managed to grow for a man you were never meant to have feelings for. The way you swallow around a lump in your throat shows him that you’re going to listen to him, and possibly believe him.
For the first time, Jay isn’t going to be lying to you about Jake either.
“Jake is only dating you for the money I give to him every month.” Jay admits, knowing you’re about to bombard him with questions as to why he’s paying Jake to do it. 
“What?” You question again, dead-pan staring at him.
“I paid him to date you because I trusted him not to be like Sunghoon, and you seemed really hurt by what happened.”
“What?!” You echo yourself, furrowing your brows at Jay and the way it’s the first time he’s ever looked at you in such a soft way. “How much?!” 
“Two hundred a month. I dropped off his last payment last Sunday.” He lies.
You pause, reminding yourself that just the Saturday before he was holding you close to him on his couch, telling you all sorts of nice things that made your heart double in size. 
“He only learned to play guitar because we thought it would be your type. Jake is more of a loser than I am. If you had met him just a day earlier, you wouldn’t have looked at him twice.”
You remain silent, listening to all of this fucked up information.
“Here pretty soon, he’s supposed to break up with you.” 
And now your face is hot, and your eyes are burning. All of those words Jake said to you felt entirely genuine. The way he kissed you, touched you, and even the way he looked at you felt so real and electrifying. 
There’s a part of you that doesn’t believe a word Jay is saying, but there’s also a part of you that wonders how much of it is true. You’ve seen Jake’s room and his selection of monotone and earth tone clothing that you’ve never seen him wear before. 
“I don’t believe you.” You say, crossing your arms, looking away from Jay, then sniffling. “It would be so fucked up if you really paid some guy to pretend he liked me.” 
Jay shakes his head in mock sadness for you.
“I set rules, you know? He wasn’t supposed to let it get so bad. He wasn’t supposed to sleep with you or even kiss you, I know that he did though.” Jay says, reaching a hand out to yours. “I keep seeing how happy you look and can’t stand that he’s doing this to you. I just wanted to help.”
You blink up at Jay. 
“Why did you care so much to help me get over Sunghoon? So much that you’d pay Jake to do this?”
“Because I didn’t want to see you be taken advantage of. I see that it was a bad idea now though, because Jake definitely took advantage of you when he could.” He looks down, still in mock sorrow for you. “I wanted to punch him so bad when I paid him last time, with his stupid shit eating grin like he’s won the lottery or something.”
“Do you–” You pause, trying to process the information. “have proof?”
Jay nods, pulling up the few text messages he and Jake have sent about the situation. 
Jay: do you think she fell for it? you completely changed vibes bro
Jake: yeah for sure i got a date tomorrow with her
Jay: if i knew it would be this easy i wouldn’t be paying you so much
Jake: money AND a girl? best deal ever.
Right then and there, upon reading those texts, the crying really does start. You question your ability to read feelings, body language, and words. You really thought Jake meant everything he said, and over all you’re just learning that…well, he’s a great liar.
“I know what I did was wrong, but I’m trying to make it right.” Jay soothes, scooting closer to you and hugging you against his chest. “I’m here whether you’re mad at me or not.”
You shove him away from you initially, but he uses his strength against you to hold you against him tightly. It’s the first time Jay has ever hugged you, the first time he’s ever comforted you while simultaneously being the cause of your shattered heart right now. 
“Why are you like this?” You ask in a truly pathetic voice, raspy and full of overwhelming emotion that you don’t know what to do with. “Why did you have to do that?” 
Jay takes in a deep breath, readying himself for whatever reaction you could possibly give to his next, very carefully thought out words. 
“Because I’ve liked you since freshman year, and now you’re my sister.” He says in a sweet whisper against the top of your head. “Because you never noticed me before, and you barely do now, but I wanted to help your situation somehow without making it weird.”
He feels you cry harder against him now, your hands gripping his shirt without intention as you try and work through the even bigger flood of information now. It’s true that you didn’t notice Jay too much, and he never indicated any type of feeling for you. He could have been your type, if he had made an attempt to get to know you, but he never did. He became your step-brother instead. One who would do nothing but ridicule you and pay men to fuck you, apparently. 
And as you cry, all you can do is raise that same gripping hand and land it harshly against his chest in a punch that feels weak to him. Over and over again, and he just takes it. Sitting there hugging you against him in a way that keeps your abuse weak and pathetic as you release the emotion on him. 
“I would have been able to do more for you if it wasn’t for Jake taking advantage of my own weakness.” Jay now says, trying to land the final nail in Jake’s coffin for you. “In some way, I think I would have made you happier.”
Your attempts to hit the anger out of you fall short with each passing moment as your fingers find purchase back in his shirt, and the feeling of being enveloped by an apology overtakes you in full.
You can taste your tears against his shirt, feeling sorry for yourself for dampening him like this. Feeling sorry that he likes you and knowing you don’t like him back. Feeling sorry that the only person you’ve ever felt strongly for like this, never felt a thing back for you. 
You’re worth two hundred dollars to both of them. 
And when you pull back, feeling Jay allow you to pull away, you just stare at him with an empty and broken expression. 
Jay can’t help but think you look even prettier with a broken heart. Mostly because he knows he’s the only person here who can fix it for you. He knows exactly what’s going through his mind when he leans forward and kisses you without hesitation. 
You are shocked by the action, feeling unfamiliar lips on yours for just a moment before you’re shoving him back with a grimace.
“What the fuck?!” You yelp, baffled and entirely disgusted. 
Jay says nothing as he stares at you as if he’s lost his mind. His mouth is slack when he looks at you and it’s a face that very nearly scares you. Especially when he takes your face in both of his hands and does it again.
A harsher kiss, with him holding you there against his lips, running his hands down to keep your body from pushing him away again. 
“Let me make it better.” He pleads in a desperate whisper between his forced kisses. “Just this once.”
You’re not sure what’s happening right now, as you sit stiffly in his grasp, feeling him plead and kiss against you like a mad man. Wondering why you’re not fighting after hearing his broken voice. Wondering if he feels just as broken as you do right now. 
This is your sibling by marriage, trying to give you something that he should not be giving you. Indulging you in truth, too much truth. And maybe you’re going a little crazy too, because you just let him.
And you let him, and let him, until he’s releasing his grip on your body forcing you to stay close to him, and gently caressing your face through his one sided kisses. 
“Please.” He whispers just against your lips, pulling back a few inches to look at you. 
And when you look at him this time, it feels raw. That’s the only way you can describe this situation of immense loss inside of you. Forced away from someone while being totally suffocated by another who only seemed to want to hurt you before all of this. 
“Jongseong, no.” You warn, not entirely understanding why you don’t fully agree with your own words right now.
Maybe it’s because you want to be wanted, or needed, or loved at this moment. 
“Don’t call me that.” He whispers, leaning forward again, kissing you on the corner of your mouth. “Why won’t you let me try?” 
You take in a deep breath, wondering the same thing.
Because he’s your brother?
Because he paid Jake to break you more than Sunghoon ever has?
Because you want to let him try, solely to numb yourself from everything else for the night?
“I–” You start, staring forward and straight through him. “I don’t know.”
He smiles, spreading his legs wide beside you to adjust himself solely because he got to feel your lips on his. His hands stay against your face as he looks at you through this, and notes only slightly the way you reach your hands up to grip his biceps. 
“You don’t?” He asks. “Why do you throw yourself at everyone but me then?”
Those are words that should hurt you more than he already has, but they don’t. He’s not wrong. If you were more careful of the people you lend your body to for pleasure, maybe you wouldn’t continue to get hurt. Maybe everything he’s done really has taught you how to pick and choose better people.
Sunghoon, Jake, and now him. 
Now him.
It feels so final, like a last hurrah of hating yourself before you decide to never let another man into your heart again. You won’t date Jay, you won’t even think of him as someone you could be with solely due to the circumstances.
But for some reason, there is something you will do and that happens to be living up to all of those insults he threw at you before. Dumb, whore, slut. 
And you’ll do those things solely to make yourself feel better right now. Sex isn’t healing but when a person appears to want you this badly, it kind of is in its own way. A reminder that at least you’re wanted on some level, especially when you’re running circles in your head over what it could be that you keep doing wrong. 
This time, Jay is shocked when you’re the one who leans forward, your hands falling from his biceps straight to his hands over your face. You cry when you kiss him, feeling utterly insane that you’re doing this, not knowing why you’re going to keep pushing, and absolutely ignoring that you’ll regret it. 
“If you want to fuck me so bad, just do it then.” You say, more as an insult to him, yourself, and the entire situation. 
What’s worse is, you said that so Jay would pull back and come back to his senses. Anyone who hears those words should know that it’s an all or nothing question. Any decent person, any selfless person would deny fucking you in this state. 
And while you want him to fuck you at this point, just to prove how badly he’s wanted to, you equally wanted him to just be here for you in the way he was supposed to.
Jay doesn’t pick up on the cue though, and instead jumps right in. Kissing you back and pulling you down with him against your mattress. 
The bed feels less pretty with Jay lying in it with you, but his lips work better than Jake’s did the first time he kissed you so messily. You don’t mind only because you don’t care about a single outcome at this point. 
Everything bad that could happen to you has already happened. 
Jay wants you to like it though. He wants you to like everything about him. Even the aspects about himself that he can’t stand. And he kisses you in a way to try and force this outcome. 
Jake is still in the front of his mind though, as he takes his girl back on the same bed where Jake presumably took you away to begin with. 
And you’re so pretty too, with your tear stained cheeks kissing him in an angry way. Jay couldn’t be happier that you’ll take this out on him. He deserves it, doesn’t he? To be hated? Hated enough to be kissed by you? It’s wonderful, really. 
He stays like this with you for as long as he can, the fear of it stopping fizzling out with each passing minute that you only kiss harder, harder, harder. Up until he can’t stand the feeling of his cock in his pants, up until he can’t help but feel you up, relishing in your hot skin and the way you still shiver probably through the chill in your heart right now. 
His hand lands under your shirt, pulling your bra down just so he can eagerly circle his fingers around one of your nipples. Thinking so hard about the tits he’s wanted to see bare for so long, feeling it perk up against his finger in reaction. 
He throbs at it, even if you won’t make eye contact with him between kisses. Even if you kiss him like you mean it but clearly don’t. He’s taking what he can get, taking what you’ll give to him. 
“I heard you guys, you know.” Jay says, pinching your nipple before rolling on top of you just to dig his length against your leg. “You seemed so happy to gag on him, why aren’t you like that for me?”
You ignore his words, trying not to moan at the thickness you feel in his pants. Never once have you thought about what Jay could be packing, but it’s…bigger than you probably would have expected. Feeling it against you breaks that final barrier in your brain keeping you from being entirely turned on by the lack of morals you’re sharing with him.
This is the first thing you’ve ever shared with Jay outside of an argument. 
“Can you stop talking?” You ask in a huff, breath hitching when he adjusts his hips between your legs and rubs himself against the center of your heat. “It’s pissing me off.”
“Mm, I bet.” He smiles, using both hands to push your shirt and bra up to your collarbones, revealing your chest to him. He grabs both of them without hesitation, and studies the way they fit in his hand. “I’m trying to fix this right now though.” He nods to himself, smirking the same smirk he always gives you when he’s being an asshole and squeezing the tit that rests above your heart. 
You’re angry that you like it. You enjoy the way he grips tighter, and ruts himself harsher against you. Almost more desperately than Jake did. Rougher, so much rougher. 
“You can’t fix what’s happened.” You groan out, annoyed and equally as aroused. “So, stop trying.”
“Getting you wet can fix it.” He says, leaning back and placing both hands on your knees, spreading your legs wide. He stares at you and the dismay on your face, then down between your legs. It doesn’t take much convincing from him though, to have you bucking your hips up against your own will. 
You never knew Jay could be so confident or dirty. 
And when he backs up just to take off your bottoms in one swift motion, you don’t even hide your face. Because you don’t care what you look like right now, or what he sees. You’re already past the boundary and at this point your body wants what it wants. 
Quite frankly, you hope he fucks the morals right out of you. You hope he fucks the emotion out of you, and renders you a shell of a person that can no longer feel pain in any capacity. 
“Well, well, well.” Jay gloats as he gets back between your legs, noting how you’re already wet. Not entirely wet, but definitely turned on. “Can’t believe you’re wet for your own brother.” 
You roll your eyes, wishing he’d stop focusing on that. You’re barely related. Just by marriage, anyway. 
“Stop talking.” You argue. 
And, well, for the first time he listens to you. 
If you knew you could shut him up by putting a pussy in his mouth, perhaps you would have done this sooner. Then again, you likely wouldn’t have considered it before now. 
Anything he could say to you right now is muffled, and all you can hear are groans and grunts each time he tries to lick straight into you. Through you almost. His tongue is just as harsh as everything else, neglecting your clit and going straight for what he wants in his mouth. 
He licks and laps at you without shame, knees planted on the floor and fingers spreading you open against his lips. His eyes stay open though, staring up at you, only blinking slowly when he gets a taste of something particularly sweet. 
You try not to reach down like you always seem to do for Jake. You really do try, but it’s like an instinct thing, you guess. You find your fingers in his hair, gripping the strands much harsher than you usually would this time. 
If he’s rough, you can be rough too, right? 
You drag him up by his hair, listening to his shameless moan of pleasure at how you treat him. You plant his face directly against your clit, and he’s just as harsh with his tongue against it. Flicking it, swirling his tongue around it, side to side, up and down, before he circles his lips around it and sucks with another one of his embarrassingly sexy moans. 
Something about him liking this to the full extent is so good. It’s so wrong, but it’s so, so, fucking good. 
And as you hold him there, his fingers slide into you as if he knows exactly how to do it. You’re shocked that he does, actually. With someone so invisible to the world to anyone but himself, he must have gotten plenty of practice in with all of the snooty book-smart girls back on campus. 
You hate to admit that they’re kind of lucky. Jay is clean with it. Goes straight for the pleasure spots and doesn’t fuck around at all. Sunghoon was always messy with his fingers, smiling and playing with you and the way you’d whine for him to hit a particular spot again. Jake, on the other hand, would never know where to land his fingers, but he’d find it and keep hitting it when you’d make that one specific sound. 
Jay knows where it is, and he knows he does. 
You know he does.
To the point that you can’t help the moans that fall from your lips. Almost as shameless as he is, avoiding the fact that you do like this. You do like the entire situation that surrounds it. After all, you’d never get fucked like this is it wasn’t from Jay, right? If he didn’t go off and set you up for failure first, right? 
Fuck Jay.
Quite literally. Fuck him for being so good at ruining everyone. 
“I hate you.” You whisper between moans, already feeling the tears bubble up again. You hate him so much, and you hate everything about how he really could have been something had he tried before. 
You hate that it feels so good.
You hate that he chuckles at your words, vibrating his voice against your clit and making you shiver.
You can’t stand that he can fit three fingers into you with ease, proving how wet you are for him. 
And even more do you hate the way he pulls back, staring up at you as he quickens his fingers, hitting that same spot, over and over again with a filthy smirk on his glistening lips. 
“Hate me all you want,” He says in a smooth voice, listening to the sounds of how wet you are gushing out and against his palm. “You seem to love what I can do for you.”
You groan out again, from deep in your chest as you try to close your legs around him, as if to push him out of you but you can feel the way he easily keeps one of your legs spread out and open, preventing the act. 
And as he listens to the sounds of your body, it all clicks in his head. It’s no wonder Jake wanted to be with you so bad. The taste of you, the smell, the sounds your body emits to be fucked? He wouldn’t let anyone take you from him. Sunghoon too, no wonder he kept coming back. That girl he always fucks during the summers surely doesn’t stand a chance against you. 
No one could look so sweet and sound so arousing like this but you. Not a single other person in this world could have his cock straining against his pants like this over the act of giving head. If anything, Jay hates giving head. But you’re clean.
You taste sweet. 
He could eat you out for days. 
“God, just fucking look at you.” He groans to himself when he stares at his three fingers plunging into you, hitting that same spot since he started. 
He can feel the squeeze of your pussy around his fingers each time he drives them in deep, pushing them together. And you only squeeze more and more as he does it. He knows exactly what this means. 
“Already?” He asks snidely. “Just from my fingers?”
You stay silent only because you couldn’t speak if you wanted to. Never has a man assaulted your g-spot so well before, and you’ve felt it building up this entire time. Your whole body feels weak, your eyes feel fogged over, your brain is going numb as you relish in the pleasure rather than the reality just outside of it. 
“Fuck, Jay.” You manage to get out, not even shocked that you just said his name in regards to this situation.
Nothing shocks you anymore.
And it’s like music to his ears to hear you sing his name in pleasure. It’s not a stutter of Jake’s name this time. It’s really his name, and he feels so fucking elated by it. He fucks his fingers in faster through the eagerness of hearing you willingly say that to him. He even dips down, his shoulders keeping your legs open just so he can lick around the same hole his fingers are stretching out, and right there is where he wills for you to come.
He wants to feel it drip against his tongue, he wants his fingers and face to be fucking soaked in you and all of that hate you claim you have for him. 
It’s not a shocker to him that you do, either. He knows how to touch a pussy, you’re not a puzzle for him. But at least your cum is sweeter than he’s ever tasted. He laps it up like a fucking dog, moaning through it as you hold your breath. Your legs shake, your cunt clenches, your clit throbs, and he’s the reason for all of it. 
He works you through it so well, to the point that you’re out of breath and looking at him as if he is your boyfriend. Only now do you wish that your mother didn’t have to go off and marry his dad. You could have easily dated this asshole just for the way he gives head and uses his fingers alone.
Yeah, maybe you are a slut. 
“Mm, I heard that.” He coos out, licking up the last of your orgasm before lifting and resting his head just below your belly button. “You moaned my name.” 
You’ve never seen him smile like this. His eyes have never looked so bright before. You’re mad that he looks attractive between your legs, with his lips dripping in your own arousal. You hate that you like it. 
“I did.” You say, leaving no room for him to respond. 
After all, he probably said that just to try and get a rise out of you. 
“You’re going to do it again, you know.” He responds anyway, now standing and reaching for the button on his pants. “And again.” 
You watch him, not wanting to believe that you’ll be moaning his name again tonight. Thinking that this is the end of it, though you should have known better. He’s going all the way. 
“Roll over.” He says now, almost demanding in a way that makes you immediately follow the direction.
You roll over perfectly for him, presenting an already fucked and pulsing hole for him to rub up and against. He actually has to blink up at the ceiling with a deep breath before really getting a good look at this angle. 
A perfect ass, perfect cunt, all wet and willing for him of all people. You’re right where you belong at this moment. Against your bed, with his cock out and ready to fuck you until you forget Jake ever existed. 
“Damn.” He comments, thumbing at your pussy lips and gripping himself with the other hand. “Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror like this?”
That’s a weird question, but yeah. 
Still, you don’t nod or answer. You just stuff your face into the very same pillow that Jake laid against the day you straddled him. If you breathe in hard enough, you can almost smell him on it. 
“I’m sure you have.” Jay answers for himself, now spreading your cheeks and getting a good look at both holes. 
Then, he leans forward, takes off his shirt, and slaps his cock against your swollen lips. Over and over again, watching the strings of your previous orgasm connect him to you. He pushes, and pushes, rubbing it between your lips and relishing in the image of his cock against you.
Where it fucking belongs.
And then he’s releasing a string of saliva, letting it drop directly onto the head of his length before he pushes the tip in. 
God, he’s thick. Just the head alone feels so much bigger than you’ve had before and it’s a bit unfamiliar. Because, of fucking course it is. 
Still, he stays like that. Pushing his tip in, out, in, out. 
Over and over again, giving you small sighs from his throat at the feeling until you can’t fucking stand it anymore.
You’re the one who pushes back, slipping another inch of him into your tight and wet walls, gripping your sheets much the same way Jake did when you went down on him.
“Fuuuuck,” Jay moans out slowly, using both hands to spread your cheeks and get a good look at the way you’re the one who wants more. “Didn’t expect you to be this tight, baby.”
You ignore his words, knowing they’re more insulting than you need to hear right now. 
And then, you feel his hand move to the small of your back and push a perfect arch out of you, his other hand pushing forward to grip your tit. He slides all the way in this time, bottoming out before staying in place just to feel you adjust around him.
“Let me feel how tight you really are then,” He smiles from behind you, finger flicking your nipple and flexing his cock inside of you. “Squeeze it.” 
You clench on demand, not because he asked for it, but because the feeling of his fingers on your nipple forces you to do it. It’s a slight pleasure that always shoots straight to your pussy and you can’t fucking help the moan. You’ve always been weak to have your nipples played with, and Jake really indulges you in that. Jay is doing the same without even fucking knowing what it does to you. 
“Goddamn, I just know they’ll miss you.” Jay breaks out in a moan, boasting about having his cock in you and feeling the way your perfect cunt jerks it off for him. “Wouldn’t let anyone fuck this pussy again,” He continues to ramble to you, spilling out his filthy desires. “My pretty slut of a sister, giving it to me like this?”
You gasp when he finally moves, pulling out nearly all the way before stuffing you full again.
“Finally letting me see what all the hype was about?” He degrades, keeping his pace slow just to hear you give into his words with each moan. “I’ll give it to you, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”
You nod against your will, never realizing that maybe you like being called these names. Jay, once so quiet and stoic, now talking to you in a way you never could have imagined. You don’t know why it’s so hot. You won’t think too hard into it, nor will you ever bring this shit up again either. 
“Wouldn’t you?” He repeats, leaning down against your ear. “I’ll be the one to fuck you the way you need, won’t I?”
His hips pick up at that point, driving those long and languid strokes into you at a quicker pace, with so much ease and confidence that you almost find it hard to think he’s lying. Maybe the only person you shouldn’t be fucking really is the only one who could fuck you the way you need it. 
“Jay,” You hiccup against your pillows, trying to lift, but his hand only pushes you further down, keeping that perfect arch for him to hit your g-spot much like he did with his fingers. “Jay,” You try again, wanting to say something and not yet having the ability. 
“That’s right.” He encourages you through his own stifled grunt, putting all the force in his body behind his thrusts now. “Say it.” He continues, now moving the hand from your tit to your hair, forcing your head back and your arch to reach pure agony. 
God, that slight change in position nearly does him in. The way you gasp out and let him force you into a shape that only a gymnast could achieve. So flexible. So slutty. You’re perfect. 
“God, Just fucking say it again.” He groans, now releasing your hair and gripping your ass, forcing you to ride back on him, trying to memorize the way your pussy walls hug around him, trying to memorize the way you moan for him, the way you’re wet for him, the way he’s finally fucking you. 
“Jay–” You moan out, lifting on your arms yourself this time, ruining the arch but pleasing him all the same when you bounce back, to the point that he’s chuckling out his groans and biting his bottom lip to the point he may actually be bleeding. 
You are truly so unbelievable to him.
“So needy for dick.” He tuts, trying to keep his composure as he stares down at the scene of you riding against him. “Just gonna ride me like the filthy slut I always knew you were?” 
You hiccup, chasing the pleasure for yourself and you alone. Loving the numbness in your brain right now, and the way his cock pulses inside of you. You feel like you could burst with every color of emotion you’ve ever felt in your life, but you refrain. 
You bounce back harder, harder, harder, until your knees buckle and he slips out of you when you fall flat back onto your stomach. 
He thinks it’s cute though, in the way you fucked against him until you couldn’t anymore. Rendering your body a melted mess of a woman, where he can easily move you to roll over, and take you for all your worth. So he can fuck you better than anyone ever has, so he can remind you that while you’re dirty, and give yourself to just about anyone, you’re proud to have given it to him too. 
And as you lay there, staring up at him when he pushes your legs up to your chest, slipping right back into you with a pornographic moan of his own, you can’t help but see him as anyone other than Jay. 
He’s too attractive, he fucks too good. 
Except it is Jay. You’ve moaned his name. It’s his cock inside of you, he’s the reason you’re so close to your second orgasm. 
And goddamn, do you need it. 
You need it so much that your fingers leave marks against his shoulders as you try to hold onto him. All you can hear are his breaths of the words “Yes.” and “Mhm.” encouraging you to scratch him harder and deeper as he fucks into you.
He knows you feel good, mostly because of the way you finally make eye contact with him, and the way you look at him as if you want him to be the one fucking you right now over anyone else. 
“You really are just–” He starts, in awe at how pretty. “So fucking pretty.” He laughs this time, slamming his hips into you at a pace that forces small moans out of you with each pointed thrust. 
And you are shocked by his sudden kind words. This whole time you never could have guessed he had some weird little crush on you, and event through him fucking you, you couldn’t tell. But now he suddenly wants to say you’re pretty? 
You don’t get him. Nor do you even care to understand, because what he’s doing right now is enough to distract you from the inevitable situation that will follow. 
You remain silent save for the few moans you offer, trying to focus solely on the way his cock splits you open. And man, he really does fuck hard. Each slam into you feels like you’re seeing stars, to the point that you can feel your throat go dry from your slacked lips.
To the point your tits are squished under your legs painfully. 
To the fucking point that the saliva that does collect in your mouth only falls out of the corners of your mouth.
Jay is so quick to catch it too, leaning down and squishing your tits even more painfully as he licks up each dribble and revels in the warmth of your mouth. He doesn’t kiss you though, no, no. He likes seeing you cock-drunk for him too much.
You’re really letting him fuck you, and you’re really just letting him do whatever he wants? All it took was losing Jake as a friend? He’d do it over and over again just to experience this in all the different ways he could imagine. 
And as he thinks about it, with your pussy clenching him so tightly, he finally releases your legs and focuses on getting you off once more. He lands his fingers right between your legs, aggressively rubbing your clit in time with each of his breathless thrusts.
He’s out of breath by this point, sweating, and his hair is falling against his face only to stick to his forehead as he gives it to you the way you deserve. He wills it out of you, unsatisfied if he can’t get you to come at least twice on him.
Then, he encourages it. 
“Come on, baby–you’re close, right?” He grunts, already feeling dangerously close to his own orgasm. “Let me feel it,” He continues, staring straight into your eyes as if he’s telepathically forcing the orgasm out of you. And it works, he can feel the clench become suffocating around his length, forcing his own eager orgasm to the surface.
“Fuck, yeah, this is what you wanted.” He nods to himself frantically, fingers stuttering against your clit as he grinds his cock into you as deep as he can manage, holding it there as he witnesses your second orgasm along with his own. 
And both of you are whispering moans and strings of “fuck” and “goddamn” and even a few of his name. 
It only drove his orgasm to keep spurting out of him far past your own high. You feel it, and you watched him do it. He didn’t pull out, nor did he even ask if he needed to. He fills you to the brim and only keeps going, lending short thrusts as if to push the cum deeper and deeper into you until he’s entirely drained and spent. 
There, he pulls out without a single glance to you before he falls onto your bed, letting the mess on his cock seep into your sheets. That’s when he looks at you, out of breath and sparkly eyed as he pushes his hair out of his face. 
He fucking smiles at you. 
“Feel better?” He asks through deep breaths, reaching his hand up to your cheek and caressing it as if he actually cares.
“No.” You say numbly, feeling more hollow than you did before giving in to the temptation of a situation so fucked up. “I feel worse now.” 
“Aww,” He coos, lifting on his elbow to look at you. “You should’ve told me, I could have kept going.”
You stare at him, unsure of how you feel about any of this. Certainly not wanting it to happen again, but somehow knowing that it very well might. 
On your terms. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Things are weird after Jay goes back to his room. He even cleaned you up a little bit using one of Jake’s old shirts with a chuckle. Even nodded to you, saying you should give it back to him unwashed when he inevitably breaks up with you. 
It made you cry the instant he finally left you alone. Which is so fucked up because you couldn’t even tell if you wanted to be alone or not. You almost wanted him to stay and pretend to love you for a little longer despite how wrong it was. 
At the end of the day though, Jay got what he wanted, and you’re still here having to clean up the trail of destruction he leaves behind him. 
The first thing you need to do is talk to Jake and lay it out straight to him. You want to tell him you know the truth, but most of all you want to ask why he did it. You want to know why he was so good at lying, and you deserve to know if any of it at all was real.
Because if he so much as nods his head that any of it was real, you’d never talk to Jay again. In fact, you’d never even look at him again. Especially after what just happened. Regardless of if you liked it, regardless of if Jake really did lie to you, you’d tell Jake everything.
Even if it makes you weird for letting Jay fuck you. Even if it’s weird that you fucked yourself against him.
You’d give everything to Jake if he’d accept it, and all you can do now is hope that somehow this situation is flipped on its head. 
Though there’s no way it could be. 
So, you lay there, alone in your bed wishing so much that you had someone to tell you that everything will be okay.
The last thing you needed was for that person to be fucking Sunghoon. 
The bright and unknowing text makes you cry harder, but you still respond to it. 
Because at the end of the day, you really are dumb. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Approaching Jake the next day felt like a whirlwind of emotion in your chest. Wondering if everything Jay said was true, wondering if it’s a lie. 
You don’t think you’ve ever hoped more for anything. For Jake to explain it all, for him to make promises and never break them. For him to still want you even if you don’t want yourself. 
He sees your face fall the second you look at him. You look nervous, scared, maybe even a bit broken. Which is insane compared to how you normally look at him, or act around him. He immediately panics too, especially when you don’t lift up and kiss him like usual.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, sitting with you in his driveway after a silent drive over. “Things feel really weird and I’d rather you just tell me now because I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“Jay told me everything.” You say, voice breaking throughout each word as you try your damndest to keep the tears from falling and making you look more pathetic than you already do. 
Jake is silent when he hears you say that. Reminding himself of the threats Jay threw at him last week, and wondering why he, himself, didn’t try to work things out further with Jay so the truth wouldn’t have come out this way. 
You probably hate him. After all, this whole relationship is based on a lie, but that doesn’t mean he lied about his feelings. Because he fucking meant everything. 
“Can we go inside to talk about it?” Jake asks gently, turning to you in a timid stance, seemingly curling in on himself. He reaches out to you, but you flinch away, not wanting to be touched by anyone. “Please?” 
You try to look at him but the second you do, the tears well up to the point you’d rather just go back home. You feel so tired. Your legs are sore from what Jay did with you, your heart is sore from what Jay told you, and your really, really, just want to sleep it all away. 
“Did he really pay you?” You ask through your tears, shifting closer and closer to the door just to create distance so you can breathe. 
“Please, just come inside.” Jake pleads, face flushed and heart buzzing at the fear of losing you. 
Angry over the fact that Jay would really stoop so low. 
“No.” You dead-pan, staring out the window. “I don’t want to go inside with you.”
That really shatters Jake. Entirely, actually, in the way you say it so confidently. He knows you deserve answers though, and you’re probably sick of people toying with you and your little frail heart strings. 
“Okay.” He says in a sigh, breathing out and pushing himself against the back of his driver’s seat before turning to look at you again. “He did pay me, but I need you to tell me what he said to you.”
You feel that last bit of hope dissolve with his confirmation. Why does it matter now what Jay said? It’s probably true, right?
It takes you a few minutes to regain composure, crying hot and salty tears next to a man on the verge of breaking someone’s arm over this. 
“He said he paid you to get me away from Sunghoon. That you lied the whole time, and that you were planning to break up with me soon.”
In that instance, Jake sees red. 
You can hear him breathe through his nose trying to control how badly he wants to raise his voice, not at you, but at Jay. Jay isn’t here though, no. Jay is at home, daydreaming about how he had you once and for all, and the way he set it up for Jake to have no room to wiggle again. 
You hear Jake call your name, trying to get you to look at him, but you can’t. You try to keep your eyes out the window, solely because you refuse to look at him if he can’t come up with some type of excuse for you to cling onto. 
Jake is good at lying though, you remind yourself. 
“I didn’t lie the whole time.” He starts, leaning himself back against the seat of his car and trying to think up a way to explain it that doesn’t make him look worse than he already does. “There’s no way I can explain this without it making me look bad but–” He stops, lifting in his seat and reaching for you, forcing you to look at him. “I only lied to you about wanting to start a band, everything else was real. I stopped taking his money. I tried to tell him the deal is off because I want to be with you, I–”
You look at him this time, letting the information sit right in the center of your brain.
“He got mad when I told him I didn’t want to break up. He offered to pay me triple to do it, then threatened me when I ignored him.” 
Maybe he’s not lying. 
“I’ve known him since childhood, I only took this deal because I thought he was genuinely just trying to get you away from some asshole. But when he didn’t even want me to be with you, I realized–”
“He fucked me, you know?” You say, shaking your head with a sad laugh. “I let him. I don’t know why but,  I did.” 
Jake freezes, his apologetic tone leaving his body in an instant.
“Are you fucking joking right now?” He asks, clenching his fists before loosening them to grab your face on both sides. “I need you to understand that I lied to you before I knew you. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
You stare forward in a numb way, feeling his warm hands caress your cheek like it doesn’t look like he wants to murder someone right now. 
“I don’t care if you slept with him. He’s the one who took advantage of you, not me.”
Only now do you think your tears dry up, choosing to believe Jake, choosing to hate Jay. Both with all of your being. 
“I need you to promise me not to tell anyone.” You say with a hollow voice. “I need you to make a lot of promises to me after this if you still want me.”
“Wha-” Jake is dumbfounded by your words. “If I still want you?!” He continues, that angry expression now turned at you. “You think I don’t want you now? Because my own best friend decided to become a piece of shit? This isn’t your fault.” 
You feel lighter at those words, your legs feel less sore, your heart starts beating at a pace that you can hear. 
“I let him though.” You say, trying to look away but feeling Jake hold your face and keep it from moving. “I believed him over you.”
Jake nods, softening his features in an instant when he lunges forward to kiss you. 
“Let’s just– let’s go inside, okay?”
You nod slowly, feeling slightly dissociated about all of this, especially with the way your entire life and moral status shattered within the span of a day and a half. 
And when Jake walks you inside, he sits with you on the couch with no indication of taking advantage of you. He looks just as hurt and confused as you do despite being Jay’s co-conspirator at one point.
“Sunghoon texted me.” You add to the whirlwind of mishaps. “I responded, but then he ghosted me again.”
Jake nods, listening to you before the room falls heavy and silent. The only comfort you feel comes from the warmth of his side pressed against yours. 
“I really hope you believe me when I say I meant all of what I’ve said to you. If I was really going to break up with you and do what he wanted me to do, I wouldn’t have slept with you.” 
You pause.
“You wouldn’t have?”
Jake shakes his head, proving to you time and time again that he is nothing but a man who cares about how other people feel. If he were to continue the deal and have no feelings for you by the end of it, you genuinely believe the blow would have hurt less because he would have made sure of it. 
“As much as I wanted to sleep with you from day one, I wouldn’t have if I wasn’t as attached to you as I was, or still am.”
Everything always feels better when Jake is the one talking, explaining, navigating. It’s like there’s nothing in the world he can’t do. A situation that felt like it couldn’t be fixed, suddenly feels mended and unbelievably stupid to you.
Jay is pathetic, and you gave in to the way he spoke to you, you gave him what he wanted, and what did he do? Smile because he got his way? Chuckle at your pain? Get off on it, even? God, you’re so stupid. 
“I believe you.” You finally breathe out, feeling an immense amount of weight lifting off of you. “What should we do, then?” 
“Piss him off? What? He doesn’t have anything on me after this anyway. He isn’t gonna run and tell your mom he slept with you or anything, I know for a fact his dad would beat his ass.” 
You chuckle, which feels morbidly uncanny to do right now, but you worried you’d never be able to crack a smile again. 
“So, what else then? What else did you lie to me about?” You ask, blinking away lighter tears now. 
“My gpa isn’t a 2.1.” He looks away, feeling bad that he lied to you at all. “It’s a 4.3.”
Oh. A smart boy. 
“I don’t usually paint my nails or wear ripped clothes, and I’m kind of a loser. I’ve only slept with like two girls before you.” He continues, looking at you with sparkling eyes. “I think I like this look on me though, so in a way I wasn’t even lying about my fashion sense past the first day, if I’m being honest.”
You smile, reminding yourself of how genuine he felt when you were with him back then. 
“Only two girls?” You pin point that quick statement he made. “I definitely wouldn’t have guessed.” You laugh sarcastically, sniffling a bit due to the sheer amount of crying you’ve been doing. 
Jake rolls his eyes at you. 
“Isn’t that proof enough to know I wouldn’t have done any of this with bad intentions?”
You smile, nodding, feeling like you’re worlds away from the pain you felt this morning. 
“I can’t believe he did that.” You finally let out, leaning closer to Jake and gripping onto his arm as if you need more balance. He lets you, feeling happy but still angry at the man who used to be his most beloved friend. 
“I’d like to say the same, but unfortunately I’m not shocked.” Jake shakes his head in pity a Jay, the guy who thinks he has it all. “He’s always been awful to other people, but never to me until now.”
You nod in agreement.
“I barely noticed him before my mom decided to marry his dad. It’s going to be hard going back to campus without you. He’s probably going to sabotage me more or something.” 
“Nah,” Jake shakes his head languidly. “4.3 GPA remember?” He continues, wrapping both arms around you and hugging. “I could transfer.”
And for some reason, you can’t help but feel excited knowing Jay may have had you once, but he will never have you again. You can’t wait to see the look on his face with Jake rolls up on campus, tainting any plan to get close to you. Even more? You know Sunghoon will be fuming to know he fucked around and found out.
After all, with your mother so lovey dovey with Jay’s dad, you could always spend the summer with Jake instead. Leaving Jay all alone, where he fucking belongs.
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merchen-aeravellae · 3 months
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Deep in the Forest
Yandere Enemy x Reader
Warning: decapitation, death, war mentions
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Two kingdoms engulfed in a conflict that spans generations, peace is no longer an option, and the thirst for revenge permeates the entire surrounding land. But battles are no longer the darkest things you can encounter in this desolate place.
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Yandere Enemy, who is a warrior, trains day and night with the purpose of protecting his rulers and his people from the threat posed by the neighboring kingdom.
Yandere Enemy, like the rest of the inhabitants of Nocheblanca kingdom, grew up with the idea that the Rosazul kingdom was eternal enemies of Nocheblanca and should be eliminated, but they are currently in a temporary ceasefire.
Yandere Enemy was training deep in the forest that connects both kingdoms, as he did every day, when he heard a noise behind a tree.
Yandere Enemy was surprised to find another person outside the grounds of the kingdom but quickly shifted to a battle stance when he noticed that it was a person from Rosazul.
Yandere Enemy expected to fight you, but all you did was raise your hands in a peaceful gesture and stepped back to give him space.
Yandere Enemy examined you from head to toe, and by your attire, he could tell you were a type of healer. He lowered his sword slightly but remained alert in case you made any movements that could indicate a fight.
Yandere Enemy only looked at you for a few more minutes, and when he realized you weren't leaving, he decided to leave first to break the awkwardness that had enveloped both of you. However, that wouldn't be the last time you two would encounter each other.
Yandere Enemy began to notice your presence every time he went to the forest to train, and no matter how much he changed his location, you always seemed to find him. At first, he threatened to kill you to be left alone, but when that didn't seem to work, he simply ignored you.
Yandere Enemy injured his hand one day while training but decided to continue as if nothing had happened. When you noticed this, you decided to help him. He refused at first, but when he realized you wouldn't take no for an answer, he had no choice but to accept.
Yandere Enemy, after a few weeks of this event, started tolerating you a bit more, and even had a couple of conversations that weren't threats. Unbeknownst to him, he was starting to feel comfortable with your presence.
Yandere Enemy, who began to hate himself, after months of interacting with you, came to the conclusion that he had developed romantic feelings for you. These feelings were forbidden, but he couldn't stop them he didn't want them to stop and they grew with each passing day.
Yandere Enemy knows that this would be considered treason to his homeland, but every time he saw you smile, that thought faded from his mind.
Yandere Enemy gathered the courage to confess his feelings to you, fearing rejection or the possibility that you might never want to see him again. He became the happiest man in the world when you admitted to having feelings for him too.
Yandere Enemy no longer went to the forest to improve his fighting skills; now his reason for going was you. He always brought an object that might interest you, or he would wait for you with a picnic.
Yandere Enemy was surprised when you told him that you had knowledge of healing and medicinal herbs because it had been a practice in your family for generations. It was also the reason why you were in the forest the first time you met.
Yandere Enemy, knowing you two couldn't hide forever and fearing what would happen if both were discovered, he asked begged you to escape together. Far away from both kingdoms, far from the fear of being separated, he wanted to find a place where you could create a life in peace, a place where you could be happy.
Yandere Enemy jumped for joy when you accepted his proposal. He couldn't help but embrace you, and for that brief moment, everything was happiness, until it wasn't.
Yandere Enemy returned to his home in Nocheblanca to start packing all his valuable belongings and clothes for the long journey ahead for both of you. However, halfway through packing, screams and lamentations were heard outside his house.
Yandere Enemy discovered that the heir of Nocheblanca and his guards had been killed while they were out hunting, including Yandere Enemy's brother, who was one of the personal guards of the Prince.
Yandere Enemy saw red the moment he learned that his brother had been murdered, probably by warriors from Rosazul. At that moment, all the hatred he had for them, which had been buried deep in his mind because you had occupied it, resurfaced.
Yandere Enemy, who began to plan his revenge, completely forgetting the plan to escape with you. His brother was one of the few people important to him, and now he was gone. Convincing the population of Nocheblanca to attack Rosazul was not difficult for him, and by the dawn of the sixth day, Rosazul had fallen. The royal family was in the dungeons, awaiting execution, but not before being tortured in the cruelest manner possible.
Yandere Enemy had a reality check at that moment. In his pursuit of revenge, he left you standing on the same day you two were supposed to escape together. Panic and terror consumed him as he searched for you among the prisoners, in the forest, and in the place he feared the most—among the corpses. But there was no trace of you.
Yandere Enemy became a war hero; now he had enough power to save you from the cruel fate of the rest of the inhabitants of Rosazul but it seemed like you had vanished into the air. He searched for you for two months and as more time passed, madness began to take hold of his mind, and regret consumed his bones.
Yandere Enemy decided to kill the heir to the throne, wanting to take revenge on the person "responsible" for keeping him away from you. If it weren't for the prince and his guards, the two of you would be living your best lives in a distant place.
Yandere Enemy didn't stop there. To make him suffer more, he decided that his entire family should witness his inevitable death. The guillotine and the prince were ready, with all other family members in a row, bound arms and sacks over their heads.
Yandere Enemy, who witnessed the exact moment when the heir's head was severed and when the sacks were removed from the heads of the royalty, he wanted to die at that moment. Now he understood why he never found your whereabouts, why he couldn't locate you—because you were with your family, in the dungeon.
Yandere Enemy never imagined that you were a member of the royalty of Rosazul, but he couldn't be angry with you for that. He knows that everyone makes mistakes, and he forgives you for not telling him earlier, just as you will forgive him for what he did to your kingdom and family.
Yandere Enemy, who went to the dungeons in the middle of the night to see you, found only a pitiful sight. You were handcuffed to the wall, beaten and wearing dirty and torn clothes, your gaze lost somewhere on the grimy wall.
Yandere Enemy approached you with the intention of hugging you, but he didn't expect you to scream. Every attempt he made to touch you ended in screams and your lamentations. The few words you spoke were filled with anger and hatred directed towards him.
Yandere Enemy is convinced that you only need a new place far away from others. He tries to talk to you about the plans you two had before to lift your spirits, but it doesn't seem to be working.
Yandere Enemy knows that the longer you stay here, the more likely it is that you'll be killed, so he steals you away while everyone is asleep, taking you far away to a hidden place where no one will find you both. He is sure that this will bring back the old you, the one who was deeply in love with him. He had to knock you out, tie you up, and cover your mouth in case you wake up early, but it will be worth it.
Yandere Enemy who found a cabin deep in the forest connecting to another kingdom, "mysteriously" the former owners disappeared, and now it belongs to the two of you.
Yandere Enemy knows that you still fear him, but not for long. He will make you love him again, and if it still doesn't work, he won't let you go. He prefers to have you even if you hate him for the rest of your life than not have you at all.
Yandere Enemy "I refuse to let you go, I don't care if you hate me, curse me, or hit me. We will always be together, whether you want it or not."
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Extra information, Nocheblanca is known for its warriors while Rosazul for its healers.
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chaedomi · 5 months
Text
AGRICHE TO PEDELIAN
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SUMMARY . flowers don't attract butterflies alone. suddenly, others are gravitating to you, expanding your long list of obsessive admirers. pt. 1
CHARACTERS . THE BLUE PEDELIAN
WARNINGS . YANDERE, female child reader, platonic, ooc, kidnapping, mild injury, implied violence, unhealthy relationships (if i missed any, kindly alert me)
WORDCOUNT . 2.4k+ / MASTERLIST.
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HOW DID it end up like this? It all happened in the span of one night while you were asleep. And when you reopened your eyes, you quickly discovered that you were no longer inside your bedroom. You had time to explore every place in your manor, so when you couldn’t identify which part of the manor you were in, you began to panic and overthink.
Your distress got worse when a silver-haired female burst into the room and grabbed you into a hug as if there wasn’t some problem with this. At this point, you began to cry, fully convinced that you were kidnapped, pushing the woman away from you, and startling her. It was in chaos for a while, your screams mixing with your words as you wailed for your freedom. The woman tried to reassure you with sweet words, inclusive of the maids present who stepped in to assist by dangling pretty jewelry in front of your face to distract you.
Unfortunately, their efforts to appease you only increased your wails. When a masculine figure barged into the room this time, it was only then you stopped crying, in favor of blinking at him while the stray tears fell from the corner of your eyes. Staring at the male, you knew he looked familiar, your panicked mind just couldn’t identify who. 
When he approached you with a gentle smile, patted your head, and began this monologue of ‘protecting’ you, you finally put the pieces together; this male was no other than the heir of The Blue Pedelian, CASSIS. Oh, boy…
In truth, your kidnapping was all ROXANA's fault, and she had no choice but to admit that. God forbid if her family found out that she was the whole reason for your disappearance, it would even make her kind-hearted mother hold some form of grudge against her and result in her execution. Luckily, no one was able to trace the doings back to her… except her red-eyed freak of an older brother.
Satisfying her curiosity was not worth it. As they say, it killed the cat. Now, she was stuck reaping the consequences of her stupidity; distraught over your disappearance, and additional work that could have been avoided, in her plan.
…If her life didn't depend on his, you bet she would have already retaliated without mercy. How foolish, she gave him an inch and he took a mile.
But, who is to blame other than herself? To explain, it was a fleeting thought that crossed her mind one morning to which she initially paid no mind… till it stubbornly stuck inside her brain. From what she remembered, in The Abysmal Flower, Sylvia displayed extreme and obsessive feelings toward you, despite being the enemy, willing to risk her safety to keep you by her side. Due to her intervention, however, Sylvia remained out of the picture. Still, she began to wonder.
If Sylvia wasn’t immune to your adorable charms, could it possibly be the same for Cassis? And thus, it marked the beginning of her little experiment. It came as no surprise to her that Cassis was on guard when she first introduced you to him. After all, almost every Agriche child was a demon spawn.
Regardless of the precautions Cassis took, his guard quickly crumbled once he was exposed to your innocence and purity, much to Roxana’s amusement. His hostile attitude quickly evaporated, he even held you on his lap (with Roxana’s permission), reciting stories that would intrigue a child your age. …She wished he was that cooperative with her as well.
She continued this pattern for a few weeks… every day, she would spare some time to take you to Cassis and observe how it played out in the distance. And each time, it never failed to entertain her. A righteous and kept man like him becomes nothing more than a slave for a child, an enemy’s child. She was long satisfied with her discovery, it’s just that Cassis was always in a better mood and more willing to listen after he spent his time with you.
But the day Cassis got too comfortable and had the guts to refer to you as one of his SIBLINGS, she realized, she may have spoiled him too much. She never had a problem when Sylvia referred to you as her ‘little sister.’ However, that was BEFORE she was thrown into the novel world. Now that she had the opportunity to experience your kindness herself, anyone who tried to make their claim on you outside the family is nothing LESS aggravating. And that was the end of your little visits.
That’s when it went downhill. Of course, Cassis was quick to pick up on your sudden absence throughout the days. He tried to ask, but once Roxana's tone progressively got more aggressive the longer he persisted, he finally got the hint. He wasn't seeing you again.
Roxana was grateful that Cassis had shut his mouth after a while. But, she found it odd how compliant he remained without your presence. More so, she hated the way he stared at her, a hidden intent she couldn't figure out in his eyes. It intensified when she gave him a map of the manor, a faint sighting of a smirk ghosting his lips. …Out of all people, Roxana would have never expected Cassis to kidnap someone. Trust no one, as they say. What an arse… Repaying her good deeds with this.
And so, the manor of The Black Agriche was thrown into a frenzy, having lost something very precious. Unless Roxana wanted to stir more trouble with hasty actions, she must sit quietly for now. …At the very least she didn’t need to worry about your safety. Unlike The Black Agriche, The Blue Pedelian will never torture their captives, let alone a young child like you…
Meanwhile, you were having your own crisis. This was a very drastic change. Although the violent nature of your family often terrifies you, you have grown used to it… kind of. Now, with the serene environment of The Blue Pedelians, you've grown antsy, anticipating some form of chaos to arise.
Ignoring how he took you without your agreement (no matter how hard he tried to justify his actions in a good light), you felt more comfortable being around CASSIS than the rest of the family. You weren’t sure if the times spent together back in your manor contributed to your lack of fear around him or relieved over the fact that your situation could have been very worse, and you didn’t care all that much. Cassis's attitude toward you didn’t change from when he was held prisoner, instead, his doting habits only increased now that his actions were not limited and monitored. He spoils you a lot, more than he spoils his younger sister. He will try his hardest to provide whatever you want, as long as it stays within the 'reasonable' range.
And by 'reasonable' he means, stop asking him to return you home. Suddenly, he understood Roxana's frustration. Is this what she felt when he continuously persisted? He doesn't get why you would want to return home out of all places; your family is vile.
It's not like you wanted to return, you had to. Although you wished to run away and never return, the odds were still not in your favor for you to make your escape plan. Something also told you that residing in The Blue Pedelian Manor was its own kind of hell…
The possible feud that can brew if your whereabouts were revealed made your skin crawl with fear. Knowing your value between the two families as well, you would be caught in the crossfire, and who knows what would happen to you then… You were trying to make things better for you, not destroy all your chances.
Cassis still didn't listen to your concerns (he never does), shutting down your complaints with a stern glare. …You just hope whatever war was to break out, it would happen later rather than sooner…
Just what was wrong with you? He’s trying his hardest to get you accustomed to your new surroundings, spoiling you with gifts, spending time with you along with his sister, anything to put you at ease. Yet, you just didn’t care! All you did was flush his efforts down the drain. He thought he was making progress with you, so he would never expected it, hell, even imagined it. But, when he caught you creeping around the exit gates, your freaked-out expression said it all. Now, here you were, leg chained to the bedpost back inside your prison-like bedroom. Seeing you chained up reminded him of himself, and it was interesting to see the roles switch to some extent. Truthfully, your tears pained him, but, he didn’t see the point in you crying. He wasn’t doing anything bad and he wished that you’d stop acting as if he was.
"Why can’t you understand that this is for your benefit?"
Oh? SYLVIA adores you? Why, that's no secret and is obvious to anyone who witnesses the interaction between you and her. Why wouldn't she love you!? You're everything she ever wanted in a younger sister… well, minus the looks, but, she can get past that!
MORE doting than Cassis, it's overbearing, honestly. Ever since your first encounter, you don't remember a time when you were left alone; it's always some lousy excuse to be around you. She hugs, kisses, cuddles, squishes, and any affectionate gesture she can think of, she does it to you. It was like she was trying to merge herself with you.
Honestly, her compassion spooked you. Her behavior reminded you a lot of your second stepmother, Maria. So, you weren't surprised when she had some hostile reaction whenever a maid would unintentionally interrupt your 'bonding' time. The sweeter they are, the more aggressive. Well, at least there weren't any dead bodies scattered on the ground…
Have you ever been so upset that you began to cry? Sylvia is a perfect demonstration of that. Perhaps you were right to compare her to Maria, the rage evident on her face was akin to the deadly glare your stepmother wore when she was furious. Flashbacks clouded your mind of how Maria snapped when a servant accidentally spilled milk on your gown. This situation was much different; a maid somehow cut your hand with the teacup. The one time Sylvia thought it was a good idea to let you get some fresh air outside your room, the fun atmosphere was ruined by something silly as this. It’s no surprise if your family lashed out, but to see a sophisticated woman such as Sylvia spew out words of profanity and behave so hostile was unexpected. At the very least, you appreciated she held back for your sake. With the way her hands shook with rage the longer she chewed out the maid, you had the impression Sylvia wanted to do much more than a stern talking to.
“There you are! I looked for you everywhere. I was beginning to worry that you’ve run away, but, you won’t do that to me, right?”
Your fear of RISCHEL was reasonable. Given his position inside his household, you two never met that often. However, the rare times you do meet, his piercing gaze never fails to make you shrink back on yourself. If you think about it, his hateful attitude made sense. You were one of the many offsprings of his biggest enemy, Lante, and said enemy kidnapped his son and tormented him mercilessly. Some of his son’s many torturers included Lante’s children, so you could just imagine the many scenarios that went through his mind. You don’t blame him if he was tempted to torment you, solely for Lante having a taste of his own medicine.
While Rischel’s expression came across as wanting to bury you six feet under, in truth, he was very much intrigued by your existence. It was confusing to see his son return with an unconscious child after escaping. And for a moment he feared that his son went mad when the child held in his arms was an Agriche and pleaded for your protection.
He was hesitant (for good reason) but ultimately agreed in the end. If his son saw something valuable in you, then there must be some worth in keeping you around. However, it didn’t mean he automatically trusted you. Without your knowledge, he monitored you, planting eyes everywhere. Any suspicious activity he was informed of would be enough validation for him to throw you out with no hesitation.
…So how exactly did his wariness morph into overwhelming softness toward you? (like father like son) The feeling just dawned upon him and he noticed it all: your mannerisms, your innocence, it slowly rubbed on him in a positive light. This was strange. He wonders if you had used a spell on him, no one should fall under anyone’s whims so suddenly as if you possessed this charm that melts even the hearts of the cold-blooded. But, oh, did the feeling around you feel so nice. And soon, he simply gave in to the desire to love you and protect you.
You realized how much more tolerable he became of your presence, to your relief. Even so, the feelings you saw on the outside couldn’t begin to compare to the rapidly developing obsessive feelings he harbored for you. And by the time you began to pick up on the dangerous signals, the damage was already done.
You were beyond speechless when you looked into the reflection of the mirror, staring at someone else entirely. Her hair was a shade of pure silver, and her eyes resembled the golden rays of the sun. As you reached your hand out to touch the glass, your body froze as reality sunk in. This was not another person, but rather you, with a new appearance and identity you were forced to carry. Looking over your shoulder, you glanced at the faces of Rischel, Cassis, and Sylvia, hoping for all of this to be one big joke. But, the pleased glances they returned alerted you that this situation was far from a joke, and you had to accept your new fate.
“Sylvia was correct. This look suits you perfectly.”
You were stressed and rightfully so. How could all of this happen? And why did it have to be you? You were still young and didn’t deserve to deal with these problems. In such a short amount of time, along with new obsessors formed, you temporarily resigned to a new lifestyle, switching from agriche to pedelian.
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©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.
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markresonates · 6 months
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two hot
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summary: for some reason, your body requires more than one alpha to satiate your needs in heat, leading Mark to seek assistance from his best friend when you unexpectedly start going into heat in public.
pairing: alpha bf!Mark x omega!fem reader x alpha!Haechan
other: alphas Jen & Jis lil voy
genre/trope: porn w/ lil plot, tiny fluff bc i'm soft; omegaverse, fake medical conditions as a plot device; (eventual poly, not jealous love tri)
word count: 8.8k
a/n: so here's that markhyuck omega heat sex threesome idea i mentioned a while ago...per usual, it’s longer than i said why am i the way i am i'm splitting it into two parts w/ pt 2 up soon!
warnings: rough unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), cock warming, manhandling, exhibitionism & extremely public, voyeurism, humiliation, lil dumbification, overstimulation, degradation & praise, spitting, stomach bulge, cum inflation, knotting, oral fixation reader, breeding & creampie kinks; sweet hard dom Mark & hard dom Haechan, super sub reader [ note – heat sex is categorized as dubcon; therefore, read at your own discretion ]
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You thought you had more time. You should have had more time. 
About an hour into your new Introduction to Astronomy lecture, your waning attention span is fully disrupted by a suspicious wetness you feel between your thighs. You uncross your legs and casually glance down, heart dropping when you discover a small pool of glossy slick in the middle of your lecture hall seat, heralding the start of your heat.
it’s official: life fucking hates you. 
Rationally, you’re aware of the fact that you need to formulate a plan but as you shift in your seat, your train of thought is derailed by the sensation sparked between your legs. You clench your jaw and grind your teeth together, forbidding your mouth from vocalizing the shred of gratification you get from squirming in your seat. 
Of all the damn days to pair a bodysuit and a pleated mini skirt, this day has got to be the absolute worst. But of course it had to be warm enough today that you felt comfortable showing more skin. In your mind, it made sense to seize the favorable weather before the last remnants of Summer disappeared into a chilly Autumn, but now you’d rather be bundled in three thick layers and sweating buckets than vulnerable in your current attire.
While you arch your back and discreetly grind against the messy chair, the bodysuit stretches, progressively sliding up your abdomen, and bunching at your waist. The damp material tugs on your hood, a second later, your clit is subjected to rough stimulation directly. Intense tingles ripple through your core from the sensitive spot. Even with your lips pressed together, you can’t suppress the tiny high-pitched squeak in your throat.
Renjun angles his laptop towards you, quickly typing out are you okay? 
You freeze your body. Giving him a terse nod, you rid yourself of the unwanted attention and resume the lewd activity. It takes a mere 30 seconds for your folds to eat up the narrow strips of material that once covered your intimate parts, giving your slick pussy a wedgie. It’s uncomfortably restrictive, and yet, simultaneously a massive turn on. 
You should be more concerned but the torturous pressure feels too good to stop, restraint briefly suspended again in a pleasured daze, chasing the desired pulsating sensation. Your eyes pop out of your head hearing the small metal snap of your bodysuit’s crotch region pop open, exposing your panties underneath and instantly bringing you back to reality. 
Jisung ducks his head near your ear. “Hey, what’s that-?”
“What’s what?” you immediately cut him off, worried he heard the same noise.
He hums, pursing his lips. “What’s that smell?”
“uh, well…” 
You gulp, so mortified that it’s impossible to meet his eyes, embarrassment warming your cheeks, your heat cranking up the bubbling sensation within you.
This shouldn’t be happening. You’ve documented your heat cycle since the day you started taking suppressants years ago. If you left it up to nature, your heat would be a seasonal affair. Now, thanks to the convenience of modern-day medicine, taking one daily pill significantly lowers your heat cycle frequency to biannually.
It’s always been consistent enough that you could pinpoint the exact 48 hour period in which it would start. In fact, a series of predetermined dates are highlighted on your desk calendar for when you’re supposed to be in heat: over four months from now.
Your scent is detectable in two ways: if someone were to press their nose directly to your scent gland, or the significantly more potent way, through the profuse slick secretion omegas produce in heat. 
And given the fact that you’re practically sitting in a puddle of slick at the moment, panic is knocking at your front door with fever. Any alpha in a ten foot radius will soon smell the arousing nectar leaking out of you. 
Fortunately, you’re in the last row of a half empty lecture hall. Rather than a dozen alphas, it’s a handful of the closest ones that’ll be raising their noses to get a whiff of the fragrant aroma floating through the air, two of those alphas being your friends.
Jisung sniffs around curiously, even going so far as to lean forward, over where Jeno is sitting directly in front of you.
“Hmm, it’s, like, sweet and fruity. Do you smell it? Like raspberries…or maybe strawberries?”
Renjun stops typing notes on his laptop. “I don’t smell anything.”
Figures; betas like Renjun don’t detect omega scents until they are at the absolute peak of their heat, and even then it wouldn’t be very strong. 
“Also, for your information, raspberries and strawberries aren’t berries.”
“Wha- Really!?” 
“Yeah. Most fruits that end in ‘berry’ aren’t actually berries, botanically speaking.”
“Um, Renjun?” you try to grab his attention in a hushed voice, failing as a result of Jisung talking over you at the same instant.
Besides your first heat, you’ve always been well prepared. You take preventative measures against potential alphas who may smell you and want to take advantage of a heat-drunk omega. 
Your typical protocol entails remaining holed up in your dark room. The mini fridge by your desk is fully stocked with four days worth of food and beverages, the air conditioner is on full blast, curtains and blinds drawn closed. Your door is secured shut with three bolted locks too.
For your past few heats, Mark has locked himself up with you as well. Being an omega, it was of vital importance to find a trustworthy alpha that wouldn’t savagely take advantage of your heat-induced instinctual nature to follow an alpha’s orders. The whole reason you submit to Mark is because you know he would never take things too far. For your past two heats, Mark was knotting you until his exhaustion proved overwhelming, and he physically couldn’t use his big dick any longer. Basically, your alpha can’t go far enough, for some indiscernible reason.
Based on the increasing amount of slick and the new ache in your core, you’d estimate you have less than an hour before your heat will seriously start affecting your senses. There’s a reason you keep track of your heat cycle, and it’s to avoid horrendous situations like this one. 
You’re struck with uncertainty and a minor sense of helplessness, facing your worst nightmare alone. At the moment, you don’t have Mark by your side, protecting you from other predatory alphas, ensuring you eat and drink something when you’re too out of it to do so yourself; and most importantly, pleasuring you to take away the pain that comes with your extreme heat cramps. 
You need Mark. 
Mouth beginning to water, deep in your filthy thoughts, you don’t register the conversation around you. You imagine him taking care of you in this very lecture hall, bent over the sturdy wooden podium at the front of the class.
You’re preoccupied and perplexed, a fraction of you developing a peculiarly strong craving for a knot – any knot. Considering how fast your heat crept up on you in the first place, you have every reason to believe this craving will continue to intensify. You feel ashamed to admit it, but at this rate, you might just find yourself allowing any alpha to knot you. 
Jisungs face scrunches up in disbelief, hearing another botanical fun fact. “No way. You’re trying to tell me bananas are berries? I don’t believe you.”
Jeno snorts, barely peering over his shoulder to throw his two cents into the hushed conversation. “Why are you arguing with Renjun? When was the last time you ate a fruit?”
“I don’t know. When was the last time you didn’t fall asleep at 6 am?” Jisung grumbles, not-so-quietly as he intended. 
If they weren’t in a classroom setting, Jisung would’ve hidden behind Renjun or grabbed something to shield himself from the other alpha’s wrath. Jeno fully twists his torso around, dawning a toothy grin that spells trouble for the youngest in the near future. He opens his mouth to speak but ultimately falls silent.
The lecture hall’s desks are the type that flip down to hover over half of your lap. With only your right thigh covered, Jeno’s eyes flick down to where you've been looking. 
He zeros in on the source of the fruity scent Jisung was referencing. He drops his smile, licking his lips, dark pupils flashing candy apple red. The other two shift their attention to your lap in quick succession.
Initially, Jisung doesn’t see what they do from his position. His curiosity then leads the naive boy to bend his upper body down and inch forward. Finally granted a vantage point to peer between your legs, his face turns a shade that matches the berries he spoke of a minute ago.  
“Uh, y/n? Are you, um, in-” Jisung stutters, his bright eyes locked between your parted thighs. 
Both alphas stare, mystified by the sight of your drenched panties, the thin white material now see-through and doing nothing to stop you from making a mess in the center of the lecture hall chair. Lifting your head, you see Jeno’s pupils fully dilated, swirling with lust, and you imagine Jisung isn’t too far off, mirroring the older alpha. 
You belatedly try to snap your thighs together but Jisung, of all people, latches onto your inner knee and keeps most of your seeping slit on display for them. His fingers digs into your soft skin in an uncharacteristically possessive manner, while Jeno quietly growls. 
They’re increasingly aroused hearing a spurt of your slick gush from your core, discovering you to be turned on by your own humiliation. You softly whine, embarrassed beyond all possible belief. 
“What happened to decorum, huh?” the beta scolds the younger alphas. 
Jisung snaps out of it and rips his hand away so fast it hits his desk. “Ow!”
“Acting like you just presented and never smelled slick before? Ugh. Get a fucking grip, you guys.” 
Renjun sets his phone on his desk, angling it towards you to show his screen and you tune out the apology from the frazzled boy on your right. “Hey, so I texted Mark. The good news is he’s on his way.” 
You exhale in relief. “Okay. Wait, what’s the bad news?”
Renjun winces, reluctant to kill your newly kindled hope. “Well…he said it’ll probably take him a half hour to get here.”
“A half hour?” 
You snap your tongue, loathing today’s dreaded turn of events. You squeeze your eyes shut to fight off the tears threatening to stain your burning cheeks.
“Oh, hold on.” Renjun scans the new message from your boyfriend, rereading it in his head, triple checking the text before delivering the additional details. “He said he’s…sending someone to get you? And they’ll be here in a dozen minutes or so.”
You furrow your brow, confused. “Who?” 
“Dunno, he didn't say.” Renjun shoots him another text, asking for the identity of this mystery person he’s referring to. 
You stare at his phone intently, beads of sweat forming on the back of your neck and haloing your hairline. Renjun taps the dim screen to keep it from turning off.
As you impatiently wait for an answer, your old nervous habit of picking and biting your nails resurfaces. You peel part of your nail off and fixate on the minor self-inflicted sting for the sake of a distraction from your intimate regions pulsating with arousal, not to mention the graphic, x-rated imagery about how easily you’d bend over for alphas in your vicinity.
Renjun lifts the back of his hand to your feverish forehead, the worry on his face deepening into his soft features. “Don’t take this the wrong way, y/n, but why did you come to class if you were in pre-heat?”
“When I left my apartment this morning, I didn’t fucking feel like I was in pre-heat,” you hiss through clenched teeth. 
You ring your head low and swallow your bad temperament as the harsh tone reaches your ears. You cringe, barely recognizing your own voice.
“I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated because I don’t know what’s going on. I shouldn’t take it out on you though.”
“No, it’s fine, I get it. You’re stressed out.” Renjun gives you a sympathetic look, equally as confused by your body as you are. “Well this explains why you wore that today.”
“What do you mean?”
Renjun clicks on the weather app to show you the temperature outside. “Because it’s cold today. But if you were really warm, the temperature outside wouldn’t have bothered you.”
“Ugh, oh my god. You’re right,” you reply, mentally slapping your forehead for not actually checking the forecast for today. Simply put, you believed you knew better, based on how warm your room felt when you got out of bed this morning.
You hold your abdomen and apply minimal pressure there, preparing for the onset of pain when your cramps start up, just like the bad habit responsible for the new drop of blood swelling at the tip of your finger. 
Jisung is quick to dig into his messy backpack and procure a quick fix for any minor injuries. It’s clear that he’s trying to be as helpful as possible, still feeling terribly guilty for holding your thighs open and preventing you from hiding what was visible to him and Jeno through your thin panties. 
You dab the blood with the folded tissue he hands you, and then wrap the blue and green, dinosaur themed band-aid around your finger. “Thank you,” you whisper to Jisung sincerely, touching his arm to express gratitude. 
You don’t blame the guilt-ridden alpha too much. After watching your pussy leak slick through the soaked white material, it was only in his nature to want to breed an omega on the verge of going into heat. The baby alpha Jisung you know and love wouldn’t do that.
Renjun lightly taps the back of your hand when you pick the finger next to the freshly bandaged one. He clasps your hands together, preventing you from doing more damage to that hand, at least. 
You frown at your hypocritical friend who himself hasn’t managed to kick the same bad habit as you. Nonetheless, you appreciate his comforting action. 
“You know, I keep thinking why me? What have I done to deserve this?” You gesture at your thighs with your free hand. “And how am I supposed to last another however many minutes?”
Renjun pauses and sighs. “On second thought, maybe you should go now. It’s way stuffier inside, so it might be a good idea to go splash some water on your face in the bathroom first before whoever Mark sent gets here.”
You hesitate for a second. You're troubled by not only the mess you've made in your seat, but the continual trickle of slick, potentially painting a colorful bullseye on your wet cunt. 
Alphas with practiced, keen olfactory systems can track a scent from a mile away, the express purpose to savagely use the needy omega they find simply because your kind is at its most vulnerable in heat. 
You always knew that omegas drew the short stick in life, but it was only after you had observed Mark’s rut in person that you officially became envious of alphas. An alpha’s number one priority during rut, above food and shelter and anything in between, is to breed omegas. 
They’ll brutally fuck a slick hole for multiple days, repeatedly knotting them until their bun-hungry alpha brain is sure that the omega will deliver them happy, healthy pups. 
Nearly every omega and most alphas take suppressants, making the chances of knocking up an omega less than 0.001% if both partners are medicated. Though, regardless of their incredibly slim chances of conceiving, that does not dissuade a stubborn alpha in rut from attempting to produce offspring. 
During Mark’s last rut, despite the primal need to dominate and fuck your brains out, oddly enough, his stamina weirdly didn’t match yours. 
“Whoever Mark’s sending is supposed to get here any minute, so there’s no real harm in leaving a minute earlier. No one would try anything with you if you’re in a public setting like school,” Renjun assures you and gives your hand one last squeeze. 
“Y/n?” Jisung works up the courage to gently tap your arm like you did his, giving you what remains of the travel size tissue packet that’s been in his backpack for nearly three years. “Don’t worry about the chair. We’ll wipe it off when you leave.”
Jeno guiltily turns around again and apologizes like the younger alpha. He then makes a generous offer to save you the trouble of waiting a second longer to leave for good. 
“I can drive you home now, if you want, y/n. And, you know, if you feel comfortable enough being alone with another alpha…no pressure. It’s just the least I can do.”
“Um, thank you. I think, uh…” 
Fifteen minutes ago, when you had no plan whatsoever and hadn’t been in contact with Mark, you would’ve taken him up on the offer, but Renjun is right. You know that a part of you is really craving a knot. However, you believe you’re lucid enough to handle going to the bathroom by yourself. 
You don’t see yourself jumping at the first opportunity to sit on a throbbing alpha cock, bouncing up and down, pathetically begging them to fill you up with an excessive amount of cum, like you did before. Plus, you don’t want to attract even more unwanted attention if two of you were to stand up and walk out in the middle of the lecture. 
“I think I’m good, Jeno. It’s just around the corner. I’ll be fine.” 
You pick up your bag, tying the varsity jacket that Jeno generously handed to you around your waist. You head for the door, walking at a reasonable speed to not attract more attention than your scent likely has. 
Jeno’s jacket conceals most of the slick running down your inner thighs, and you make a mental note to somehow make it up to him later.
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You have almost reached the bathroom when, out of nowhere, you’re ambushed by an alpha, pressed face first against the brick wall of the science building. 
Whoever it is had the sense to slip his hand in front of your heated forehead to break the blow against the wall and not crack your skull open on impact. Obviously, alphas don’t want a dead omega. 
You can’t breed something that’s not breathing.
That’s basic alpha 101.
Your heart rattles in your ribcage, racing a million miles per hour. You wish you were allotted enough time to wipe up your slick before being attacked. 
If only you had accepted Jeno’s offer to be safely escorted, then you wouldn’t be pinned to a wall, hands held behind your back by an alpha presumably relying purely on an animalistic desire.
To make matters worse, being dominated so aggressively triggers a surge of arousal from within your inner omega, the yearning for sexual fulfillment intensifying at a rate higher than in your lecture. 
On instinct, tremendously touch starved, you grind your hips back, pressing your ass against the half-hard cock hidden in the alpha’s pants. 
He leans closer to your ear, pulling the cherry lollipop out of his mouth to whisper in a deep, gravelly voice, “Did somebody miss me?” 
You whimper, timidly, and he chuckles. 
Something possesses you to tilt your head to the side, submissive and craving a knot so damn badly that you’re willing to bare your vulnerable neck for the alpha. 
He hesitates, before nosing at your scent gland, shakily exhaling through his mouth. Presented with such an alluring opportunity, the alpha almost loses his cool, tempted to accept your invitation and take advantage of your omega’s baseline reflex to submit. 
Practicing a degree of restraint that very, very few alphas in his unique position possess, he instead places a single soft kiss to the spot he knows is reserved for Mark’s teeth.
Mark…
You break out of your innate trance as lips that don’t belong to your alpha are still pressed to your neck, the gravity kicking in about what it means to allow a stranger to bite and claim you. 
You can’t imagine what your life would be like as a double claimed omega, shared by two alphas, belonging to both Mark and the mysterious, possessive person behind you. 
You catch him off guard by ripping away. You whip around, snapping your tongue when you finally discover the identity of your attacker. 
“Argh, what the fuck, Haechan?”
You lean back against the solid wall, holding a hand over your chest as if your heart is on the brink of bursting through the slats of your ribs. 
“Did you have to give me a heart attack? What happened to saying hello, hm?”
He snickers, a melodious, infectious laugh that makes you want to smile as well. This time, with tremendous effort, you hold your ground. 
“What’s the fun in that, sweetheart?” he says, sticking the candy back in his mouth.
You wish you could chase away the butterflies in your stomach that are consistently conjured up when his designated pet name for you rolls off his silver tongue. You’ve seen Haechan flirt with countless girls, yet he’s always reserved “sweetheart” and “sweetie” for his favorite omega. 
You can’t describe why hearing his pet names excites you, inappropriately so. Perhaps, you like feeling special to him in some way, his sugar-coated sweet tooth reserved for you and you only.
Mark knows all of this.
He would have to be both blind and deaf to not see Haechan’s effect on your body and pick up on the sound of your heart racing. His charming best friend is frustratingly swoon worthy, but Mark had never minded it much. A case can be made that Mark is the jealous type. It’s for this very reason you find it so curious that he allows Haechan to get away with openly flirting with his omega.
“Why are you even-?” 
You freeze as he wipes a tear from your cheek, trailing the back of his fingers along the side of your face and down your neck. He wraps his hand behind your neck with his thumb pressing into where your pulse is fluttering rapidly, tucking the lollipop into the side of his cheek to speak.
“Shh, take deep breaths for me, baby. In…out…in…out.” 
The alpha’s instruction marginally calms your nerves, your omega instincts compelling you to follow without question. You are obedient and malleable, most especially in heat, for Haechan and your own alpha, of course.
“Good girl.” His praise has you biting your lip, whining softly. “Renjun probably told you but Mark’s on his way. He sent me to take care of you first.”
“Oh,” you reply, dumbly. 
You should have suspected that Mark would send him to pick you up. It’s obvious in retrospect. He trusts Haechan with his life; by extension, he would have total faith in his best friend to handle you too.
“Yeah, oh,” he mimics with an annoyingly charming curl of his heart shaped lips. 
Haechan basically gets off on annoying people, although his form of teasing you differs from others. Plus, you never fail to give him the reaction he’s searching for, playfully rolling your eyes, quietly snapping your tongue, or throwing some weak comeback in return. 
“Are you disappointed to see me, y/n? I know you're Mark’s princess but you’ll just have to settle for me this time.”
“Wow, how noble of you. My hero,” you reply, sarcastically. “Can we go now?”
“By all means, lead the way, sweetheart.”
Right on queue, you roll your eyes, just like he knew you would. You take a few steps in the direction he gestures to before the first heat cramp punctures your core. Luckily, Haechan catches your body as your knees buckle, doubling over in pain. 
Haechan clears his throat. “Y/n, you should know that Mark didn’t just send me here to pick you up,” he says cryptically, unpocketing his phone. 
He proceeds to play a voicemail Mark left him. You listen with pursed lips, furrowing your brow as you take in your alpha’s words. 
You try to concentrate on the message, partially distracted by Haechan’s scent swirling around you, quickly permeating your skin and thoughts. 
“Hyuck, you’re the only alpha I completely trust to take care of y/n like that…and by that, you know what I mean. And don’t be surprised if she, like, starts to beg for it. She can be realllly needy, trust me.”
There’s a spike in Haechan’s scent, reminded of his personal mission to hear you beg. 
Despite not having kissed him, you can taste him on your lips. His all-encompassing spicy musk intensifies, melting into a subtle syrupy vanilla that clings to your tongue and stirs up a hunger for forbidden fruit. The cherry candy is no match to his natural scent.
“Oh! One more thing. y/n likes it a bit, um, rough when she’s in heat…so just keep that in mind. I’ll be there as soon as possible, dude. 40 minutes tops. Alright, see you then.”
Haechan looks at you, searching for a reaction, but instead, he sees your face contort painfully again. 
“Sweetie, look at me.” 
You turn your head, now within proximity to count all the pretty moles on his sun-kissed face, like sunflower seeds you’re tempted to taste and swallow by the handful until you’re physically ill. 
“Do you want…” 
You straighten your back again, a chill running up your spine as Haechan slowly reaches under your skirt. He drags his hand up the inside of your thigh. The tips of his fingers draw through the many lines of slick dripping down your legs.
“…my help?” he finishes in a tone deeper than you knew he could produce. 
Your cheeks and ears burn with embarrassment, feeling another mini rush of wetness soak the utterly useless material covering your throbbing core. There’s no denying that you’re incredibly aroused by Haechan. He knows you know he can smell the gush of new slick you involuntarily released.
A strong sexual desire pumps through your veins, driving you up the walls. You’ve always been curious about what it would be like to have the alpha ruin you and use your body like a toy, but you’re not certain how much of that can be attributed to being on the verge of heat. For better or for worse, you decide that that’s a problem for future you to determine, and present you to toss out the window. 
Tasting a mere crumb of Haechan’s touch wasn’t enough – you had to swallow him whole, and the only way you could do that is by giving him the pleasure of devouring you first. 
“y-yes, please.” 
Your answer is so faint that if he were any farther away, he wouldn’t have heard it. 
Haechan suppresses a smug smile, pleasantly surprised to get your first “please” this soon after catching up with you. 
“That’s what I thought, sweetheart.”
His skilled fingers touch where you want him most, grazing over your clothed pussy. Anticipating some kind of pleasured noise, he holds your body close and pops the lollipop inside your mouth. 
He scans your surroundings for a place nearby with any additional smidge of privacy. Locating a possible secluded destination, he steers your weak body in the direction of his choice. Haechan snakes a hand up the front of your skirt again, pressing his thick cock against your ass as you stumble forward. 
Imagining how dirty you must look turns you on, the debauchery of grinding on someone in broad daylight while they have your skirt flipped up to rub over your wet panties has your vision blurring momentarily. Modesty is nothing but a vague concept in the far off distance, seconds away from disappearing over the horizon. 
The next thing you know, your body is pressed against a cool hard surface, bleary eyed and craving the kind of high only a mind blowing orgasm can earn. 
You vaguely recognize you’re behind the science building you came out of before Haechan ambushed you, escaping the bright rays of burning sun that were beating down on you by slinking into the secluded shadows with the golden, silky voiced alpha.
Your skirt rides up as he shoves a knee between your legs. He gets a firm grip on your hips as you grind down against his thigh, soaking the material of his skinny jeans, creating a wet spot in the denim with your slick.
“Wow, would you look at that? Baby made a mess all over me already. I bet you wanted that, huh? Rubbing your slick on me so people know you’re fucking two alphas?”
You remove the lollipop to refute his provocative claim. “I-I’m not fucking two alphas.”
“Ha, maybe…not yet, anyways. But you want to. Isn’t that right, y/n?”
Your mouth goes dry, tongue rough, throat scratchy like sandpaper. You part your lips to argue with him but nothing comes out. Instead, you insert the lollipop again, sucking on the shrinking round candy, a poor attempt at covering up your original intention.
“Exactly…now, let’s see what we’ve got here.”
Haechan places your clammy hands on either side of his shoulders to ensure you won’t lose your balance, then he lowers himself to crouch in front of you.
“Hold.” He lifts up your skirt, giving you the bottom hem so he can get down to business.
Haechan’s fingers dig between your clothed folds, feeling your slick leak onto his hand. The thin material pushes into your entrance in an unsatisfying way and you whine. 
He tsks his tongue three times, shaking his head. “Just as I suspected.” 
You don’t need a reminder of how wet you are, and yet Haechan still brings his hand up for you to see the wet webbing clinging to the tips of his spread fingers anyways. A small embarrassed noise escapes your mouth. 
“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos, using his thumb to toy with your clit, “you look so adorable when you’re embarrassed. All rosy-cheeked and messy.”
Haechan slides your panties down your legs and you cooperate by stepping out of them, hands still anchored to his shoulders. He brings them to his face and licks off a great majority of the wetness that seeped out of you, peering into your soul as he does so. Your lips form a slight pout, missing his touch.
“Ha, Mark was right. You are a needy omega,” he teases and pockets your panties like a trophy he’ll proudly keep forever. 
“What would Mark say if he saw his precious omega barring her neck for a total stranger?” 
You softly moan a bit louder as he curls his fingers just right. Your knees wobble, struggling to stay upright. 
The image of the alpha ravaging your body while Mark watches the act unfold, makes it difficult to focus on your surroundings, distracting you from the minor degree of shame in your chest. 
You couldn’t care less about your indecent exposure at the moment either – you feel too good to care about anything. 
“H-haechan…I want you…want you so fucking bad,” you breathe out, words slightly slurred with the round candy in your mouth. 
Haechan’s cock twitches, picturing you in tears, your walls struggling to accommodate him. However, he is aware that behind a school building isn’t the most ideal place to take an omega in heat, especially considering the potency of your heavenly scent, steadily increasing. 
Since Mark isn’t here yet, the least he could do is take you inside the building.
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Your slick seeps into the frontside of Haechan’s clothes, clinging to his upper body for dear life as he carries you into an empty classroom. He sets you down on the lab table and observes the damage to his clothes.
“i-i’m sorry about that.” You lean back, peering down at your lap, nervously.
“Oh, baby…c’mere.”
Haechan cups over your knees and tilts forward to kiss your neck, sucking a dark hickey right next to your mating mark from his best friend. 
“I like collecting these little spots from you.” He pries your thighs apart and draws closer to your bare pussy.
“It’s cute that your body can’t help but mark me somehow.” 
He gets on his knees, darts his tongue out to swirl around your clit. His fingers prod your slick core and slide inside you, stroking your sensitive spot skillfully. The breathy noises he’s rewarded with are ones he’ll remember forever. 
It’s astonishing how quickly Haechan figures you out. 
He’s already in tune with your body, keenly aware of what makes you tick, knowing how to make you quiver and arch your back beautifully. 
Not before long, Haechan has you shaking uncontrollably, squeezing your eyes shut, your short stuttered breathing uneven and shallow as your orgasm peaks, and you topple into an abyss of intense pleasure. The lollipop falls out of your open mouth, rolling off the black table.
You might as well be outside, stargazing in the dead of night based on how many constellations and galaxies twinkle and swirl behind your fluttering eyelids. 
Haechan doesn’t let up on his efforts to overload your system with a tingly static sensation. Sobbing pathetically, you try to bat him away with what little strength you have, overstimulated and overcome with the sizzling heat frying your nerve endings. 
He huffs and retracts his hands, wiping his mouth and the mess of dripping juices on your inner thigh. 
“Okay, fine. I won’t touch you anymore!” he tosses his hands up in the air, melodramatic as ever.
“Finally,” you murmur, granted relief to catch your breath for the first time. 
You’re heavily panting, linking your fingers together and resting your hands atop your head to allow better airflow into your oxygen deprived lungs. He steps back and studies you like a unique specimen for medical observation. 
A few quiet moments pass before the dull cramps creep up inside you, not yet terribly painful but aching in a way that guarantees incoming sharp pains. You whimper for stimulation again, sending puppy dog eyes at Haechan. 
“More…please.”
The alpha’s face is painted with mischief, taunting you by reaching for your body then abruptly stepping back to watch you sniffle, and rock back and forth.
Upon noticing your eyes starting to well up with tears, he ultimately gives in. Haechan curls two and then three fingers inside you, opening you up for his throbbing cock. 
As much as he’d love to see you cry, he’s under strict instruction to satisfy and take care of you. He can’t threaten to not relieve the effects of your heat and tease you to the point of genuine distress.
“Aww, don’t cry, baby. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” 
You let out a breathy moan and make grabby motions to the tent in his pants. 
“Hm, does the cry baby want a knot?” You bite your bottom lip, nodding. “Yeah? Can you use your words? Or is there nothing going up there in that pretty little head of yours?” 
He lightly taps your forehead twice, then slides that hand up to tangle in your hair.
You smile, shy and small,  and, dare he say, adorable. “You- you think I’m pretty?”
One side of the alpha’s mouth curls up, amused that “pretty” was the only word that you clung onto. He rolls his eyes, teasingly. 
“Of course you’re pretty, y/n.” Haechan removes his hand from your hair to take out his thick cock. “And only the prettiest of girls get this.”
With a newly unveiled salivating incentive, you immediately pull yourself together, spine straight as an arrow. 
You stare at his shiny, precum-glossy cock with heart eyes, licking your lips as he gives himself a few jerks and produces more pearly droplets from his slit. He pushes you back against the lab table when you try to get to your feet for a taste.
“You can choke on my cock later, princess. I thought you wanted a knot? Or did you change your mind?”
“No! I-I do want it,” you frantically reply.
“You sure?”
“Yes, I really want it, Haechan, really badly.” He raises an eyebrow, expecting more. “Please…please, knot me. I wanna be filled with your cum. I’m begging you…breed me, Alpha.”
Breed me, Alpha rings in Haechan’s ears like wedding bells signifying the everlasting bond of a committed partnership. Hearing your sweet voice desperately begging for his seed, using the dominant title you only ever use with Mark, your real alpha, gets Haechan rock hard. 
He savors every second he gets to be your alpha. 
Satisfied with your eloquently worded, pitiful plea, he lines himself up. His shiny cockhead glides through your folds before breaching your dripping entrance. 
“That’s what I thought, sweetheart,” the alpha whispers against your scent gland, his mouth sucking it softly.
 You gasp as he drives his hips forward, forcefully pushing against your tiny hole until you’ve accepted his blunt tip, and sucked his fat cock inside. 
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Mark can smell you the second he drives on campus. He rolls his window down to take another alluring whiff, his right hand just barely gripping the bottom of the steering wheel while his left palms the bulge in his snug jeans, tenting obscenely. 
Mind preoccupied, his tunnel vision blinds him from focusing on a single thing besides seeking you out and filling you with loads of cum as soon as possible. He doesn’t recall pulling into the parking lot, getting out of his car, or locking it. All he knows is that, within the blink of an eye, he’s rushed across the campus, his feet landing just outside one of the science labs housed in the same building as your astronomy lecture.
Yanking the door wide open, his wild eyes dart to where his best friend’s knot is locked inside his omega, rubbing your clit so aggressively after your third orgasm that you’re reduced to a twitching mess. 
You don’t immediately recognize Mark’s presence, too lost in the intense buzzing sensation to even register that the alpha barged into the room.
Mark slams the door behind him and purposely leaves the door unlocked like Haechan did. There’s a certain reckless thrill that comes with the possibility of getting caught in a compromising position.
In contrast to the way he raced here, driving haphazardly and disobeying traffic laws, Mark slowly crosses the lab room towards your splayed body in a few, brisk strides. He removes his hard cock from his jeans with a lazy smile, stroking himself and licking his lips as you cry out.
Haechan flicks his chin up at Mark, greeting him happily. He makes a show out of pressing a slick-coated finger against your lips to silence you. 
“Sweetheart, you’ve gotta keep it down. You don’t want everyone next door to hear, right? They’d probably say ‘we should go check on whoever’s crying!’ Only to come in here and find their pretty classmate is a dumb little slut…with a cunt full of cum.” 
You whine, leading him to push two of his dirty fingers into your mouth to shut you up. His smirks as you mindlessly suck on them like a binkie, shutting your eyes and humming pleasantly. 
“She’s so pretty when she cries.”
“I know right?” 
Mark makes a growling noise in the back of his throat as he rubs his hand over where he can see the faint outline of Haechan’s thick knot buried inside you, making your abdomen bulge. Both you and Haechan shutter, feeling a tingly sensation from the pressure your boyfriend applies. 
“So, how’s she been?”
“Well, she-”
“Mar?” you weakly croak around Haechan’s fingers and he removes them.
“I’m here, y/n, I’m right here.” Mark wipes a lone tear of yours away and caresses your warm cheek. “How are you feeling, baby?” 
“I’m…hot.”
“No objection there,” Haechan jokes.
“Why did you send Haechan?” you continue like you didn’t hear the alpha currently plugging you up with cum.
“Oh, y/n. You remember how you were during your last heat.” Mark stops stroking his cock and takes out a tissue to dab away the sheen of sweat on your feverish forehead. 
“Actually, you were probably too far gone, huh?” 
You blink up at him, tilting your head into his hand when he tries to wipe your cheek. If you’re being honest with yourself, you only recall bits and pieces, and none of those memories are exceptionally vivid. 
“I didn’t know it was possible. Like, I looked it up and on average, omegas need to be knotted 5x before their heat breaks. But, y/n, seriously, I lost track of how many times I knotted you and it’s never enough. I couldn’t take care of you throughout all of your heat and it killed me to see you like that and not be able to help you more. You need more than I can give you, princess.” 
He offers you a small genuine smile, his hand trailing down to palm at your exposed breast. Mark gently rolls your nipple between his fingers, hearing you quietly purr. “So Haechan was nice enough to agree to help me help you.”
“But Mark-” 
“It’s for your own good, y/n,” Mark calmly tells you. “And didn’t Haechan make you feel nice?”
“Um, well, I-” 
You gulp, ruminating on how you want to answer, whether you should tell him that another alpha made you feel as amazing as Mark does.  
“Wanna tell me what it’s like to have his knot locked inside that tight little pussy of yours? I know you love being full of my cum. What about his cum? I bet you looove getting fucked full of his cum too, huh?”
“Y-yeah, I love being full of cum…your cum and-and Haechan’s cum.”
Mark smiles at your response and rewards you by pinching your perky nipple. “That’s what I like to hear, baby.”
You whine when Haechan wiggles his mostly deflated cock out of your tight core. “You really weren't lying when you said she gets super wet.”
“Hm, let me feel.” He hums, looking closer and dipping his fingers inside the dripping combination of your fluids. 
Mark widens his nostrils and takes in the aroma of Haechan’s cum mixed in with your juices, his eyes flashing blood red. 
It’s unfamiliar and vaguely off putting to smell his mate has been violated and fucked open by another alpha. Although, overall, the dominant sensation coursing through Mark is arousal, turned on by the thought of sharing your body. 
“Nah, man. It gets worse, you’ll see. Her heat hasn’t even peaked yet.”
Mark addresses Haechan like you aren’t even here. To be fair though, during your heat you’re not all here anyways. 
“W-worse?”
“By the end of her last heat, she had so much fucking cum in her, I don’t know where it was all going.”
 “Ha, we got ourselves a little cum dumpster here,” Haechan snickers, sliding his fingers inside your cum dribbling cunt again.
With such an overflowing amount of slick and cum, if someone told you that the obscene squelching that fills the room is a soundbite from some high quality pornography, you wouldn’t doubt it. You croon as he curls them up just right, taking a moment to stimulate your most sensitive spot skillfully. 
He retracts them sooner than you’d prefer and brings his fingers to your mouth. “Suck.” 
A fat droplet falls on your bottom lip. 
Mark rubs slow, comforting circles over your abdomen. “Go ahead, baby,” he encourages, leaning down to suckle on your neglected bud. 
Earning Mark’s blessing, you obediently suck your own berry wetness and Haechan’s cum off of the alpha’s fingers.
“God, what a filthy slut,” he says once you’ve fulfilled his wish. “She gives in so easily, she’d do anything to get another load of cum.” 
A weak sound of protest weasels up the back of your throat, disagreeing with the term he used to describe you. You expect Mark to disagree with his best friend’s crude statement, but he shockingly does the opposite.
“Tell me about it, dude. The whole time she’s always begging for a knot and more cum. I know a lot of omegas beg in the middle of their heat…” 
Mark pets your head gently for a second, then snakes his fingers into your hair, giving it a brief yank. 
If you weren’t on the precipice of your heat hitting full force, his sudden action would’ve caused you a decent amount of pain. But by now, your aching body welcomes any form of touch – the rougher the better. The demeaning terms trigger strobing excitement inside you.
“…but with y/n, it’s like where did my sweet omega go? Who’s this needy cumslut?” 
Your bottom lip quivers, internally conflicted by your budding arousal. Mark looks down at you with pity in his eyes.
“Aw, baby,” he coos, “don’t look at me like that. I’m not saying it to be mean, I’m just telling the truth. You don’t know what it’s like trying to take care of you.”
You whine softly, your foggy emotional state making you feel guilty, even if the fraction of you that’s still of sober mind knows that you have nothing to feel guilty for. The seeds of insecurity take root in your head, questioning if he secretly resents being with you, if you’re too much of a burden that he wishes he wasn’t your alpha.
Mark reads the emotional turmoil brewing on your precious face, and to soothe the distress, he quickly leans over to kiss it away. He kisses down your face, lips lightly kissing your forehead twice, between your eyebrows, the tip of your nose and finally to your lips, much gentler than the hand responsible for the arousing sting on your scalp. Mark tastes the other alpha and grins anyways.
“I don’t want you to feel bad about it, y/n.” He brushes a few stray tears away from where they began to spill from the corners of your wide, glossy eyes. “I just wanna make sure you’re well taken care of this time.”
“Even without you, I can take care of myself well enough,” you sniffle, lying through your teeth, fooling no one, not even yourself. 
Your hand twitches, wanting to prove a point but hesitating because you're not used to being watched by two sets of eyes. 
“Go ahead and touch yourself, princess. I know you want to,” Mark tells you.
“R-really? Like, um…” You swallow the lump in your throat. “...in front of him too?” 
You sneak a glance at Haechan, who, by the looks of it, is about ready to unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole any second now. You vaguely remember wanting him to do so not too long ago in your most fuzzy heated state.
“Yes, in front of me and Haechan.” 
“Aw, sweetheart. I just fucked your pretty cunt and yet you still feel embarrassed?” Haechan pouts in mock sympathy. “That’s adorable.”
Mark exchanges a look with his best friend before turning back to you. “Be a good girl for me and demonstrate how you used to do it before we met. You can do that, right, babe?” 
An adoring smile reaches his lips, eyes locking with yours. You could try to deny the lewd act, but above all else, you want to please your alpha. 
Mark wants you to be a good girl, and that is exactly what you will be. You gulp, releasing a shaky sigh, and nodding timidly. Your mouth twitches up to mirror his sincere smile as best as you can manage.
“That’s my girl,” Mark beams.
Mark knows how to comfort you, pushing two fingers into your mouth to give you something to wrap your lips around. He gently cups the back of your hand and guides it lower while you’re pleasantly suckling.  
You tilt back, propping your upper body up by extending your left hand behind your back. Folding your spread legs up and planting your heals on the edge of the wide black lab table, exposing your throbbing cunt to the alphas. 
You trace your fingers through your folds, rimming your freshly used entrance before sliding two of them inside, moaning around Mark’s fingers as you follow his instructions. 
Muscle memory of touching yourself on a frequent basis over the years takes charge, and within seconds, you locate your weak spot. 
“There you go. Good girl.”
You mewl, your legs trembling every so often as you draw your fingers up to stimulate your clit. The muscles in your face are equally as prone to a visceral jumpy reaction as your lower half is. 
Craving more, you lay your upper body back against the table, and switch hands to curl your left fingers in your abused pussy and rub quick circles over the hood of your clit, stroking up and down to stimulate every nerve around the electrifying spot. 
“M-mar…” you whimper, drool trailing from your stuffed mouth. “Fuck-fuck me. Please, I n-need your cum now.”
Mark bestows a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “How about you show me how bad you want it, eh?”
You hop off the table and lower to your knees obediently, folding your legs underneath you and sitting back on your feet, hands placed flat on your thighs, spine arched to show the round curve of your ass.
Haechan whistles. “You sure did train her well.”
“Nah, man. y/n didn’t need training. She’s just a perfect omega.” Mark smiles, happy to show you off. He pets your head as you start to squirm and quietly whimper. 
“Open your mouth, baby.” 
You part your lips, holding your tongue out to catch the spit that falls from Mark’s mouth. He hums, approvingly, watching you swallow it and open your mouth again. He pauses for a second before flicking his chin at Haechan. 
“You want Haechan’s spit too?”
You glance at Haechan and release an affirmative noise a second later. Your core aches for further rough filling again. You rub your slippery thighs together, feeling more slick gush from your throbbing pussy, increasingly aroused when Haechan steps up to the plate. 
He lets a string of saliva dangle from his tongue, slowly dripping into your mouth, and partially dribbling down your chin intentionally, simply because he wants to make a mess of your pretty face.
You're about to wrap your lips around Mark’s cockhead when all of a sudden, the sharpest pain stabs your abdomen. Your jaw drops in a silent scream, crumpling into a ball, squeezing your eyes shut, and nearly blacking out. 
Mark kneels down and rubs your shoulder, lifting your head to look you square in the face. Worry colors his sharp features and shatters the heated, public pornographic fantasy. 
“Shit. y/n’s cramps usually subside for an hour or so after getting a knot,” he mutters to Haechan. “I didn’t want to do this…but I don’t think we have much of a choice now…”
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[hint for pt 2]
additional warnings: double penetration, spitroasting, oral (fem & male), face sitting, throat fucking, choking, somnophilia, squirting, sex toys, nipple play...i think that's it.
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it’s 2023.
why did it take me this fucking long to write markhyuck x yn ?? i said i’d write for this pairing in FEB 20 FUCKING 21.
sorry for not posting in forever. since spring, i've been going through the trial and error phase of finding the right combination of medications for my fucked mental health 4x, and one of the biggest side effects i've experienced on all of them has been a loss of interest in things that used to excite me, which includes writing. that, paired with the lingering effects of long covid, has made it so that when i sit down to write, i often feel like i'm fighting with my own brain to construct a single linear thought.
the #1 motivation for writers is feedback and interaction. for me, knowing people enjoy my works and appreciate the time i put into something has a huge impact. i'd be really grateful if you shared this by giving it a reblog and would love to see you spam your thoughts/reactions in the tags or comments!
pt 2 is written out already, it just needs to be proofread. now...i'm not saying i WON'T post it next weekend, but comments, reblogs and feedback would definitely inspire me to finish it up on time.
okay 'tis all. thank you for reading and i hope you (yes, specifically YOU, beloved reader of mine who's reading this RIGHT NOW !) are doing well:))
stream 127's *FACT CHECK*
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➾my masterlist
© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.
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thewulf · 10 months
Text
Good News || Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Summary: So i saw somewhere where a woman got into trouble for "destruction of government property" but it's just her giving her military husband hickies, and i think this would be so hilarious with Jake Seresin.
A/N: This one came so quickly to me. It's just pure fluff. All the Jake Seresin fluff! Short but sweet. Hope you all enjoy :)
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N
Word Count: 2.3k +
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Your eyes flipped back to the calendar on the wall with a big red circle around today. You’d probably looked at that calendar a thousand times over the last six months as you waited. Waited agonizingly every single day praying you wouldn’t get a knock on your door or the dreaded phone call.
Jake had been deployed on a carrier off the coast of Israel in the Mediterranean Sea for the last six months. You knew it came with the territory when you started dating him all those years ago. It terrified you every single time he came to tell you he was off on a mission or going on orders overseas. You’d never show it, only your utmost support and confidence in the man. But you knew how dangerous it was. He told you about all the men and women he’s seen gone down and some never making it home in his short span as a pilot in the Navy. It didn’t just terrify you, it rocked you all the way down to your core. What if he didn’t make it home? He was a hell of a pilot, one of the best that was flying, but things didn’t always go your way. He knew that. You knew it. Everybody seemed to know it.
But today was the day. He was coming home. After the months of shitty less than communication and trying your best to stay distracted it was here. He was safe. He was alive. You’d talked to him just a few hours ago. Waiting.
Jake’s parents picked you up from your shared home just off base that’d been eerily quiet in his absence. They didn’t want you driving in your hyper-fixated state. They never wanted you driving when it came to these kinds of events. They knew how much it tore you up when he was gone on deployment. If you didn’t fly down to Texas they made sure to fly to you. Just to keep you company. You hadn’t a clue how you’d gotten so lucky to have them in your life. And hopefully in the future as family. You never pushed it though. You didn’t want him to panic and ran. And truth be told you’d be fine never marrying him so long as he was like this in your life. Your best friend and love wrapped up in one.
“Are you excited?” His mom asked seeing you nearly bouncing out of the backseat once the car rolled onto base.
“Oh Nancy,” you could only nod your head in confirmation, “I’m more than excited.” Your cheeks were starting to burn from the big cheesy grin you were wearing.
His dad, David, spoke up, “I know Jake is just as excited.” He smiled just feeling the excitement in the air. These days were truly the best. Six months was a long time to be away. The longest deployment he’d been on in years.
The three of you made small talk as David drove to the base. Once parked, you happily led the older couple over to where the sailors would stand before they waited to be dismissed. You watched as the hundred or so men and women aboard the ship departed to their designated formation. Your eyes scanned for your loved one. Your Jake.
Finally spotting him you waited anxiously as the rest of the crew lined up. You just had to wait it out another ten minutes or so. They had to officially be dismissed before they could break for the family reunions. These last few minutes always seemed to draw on for decades trying to be as patient as possible.
You kept your eyes on him as he kept his forward. You hadn’t a clue that he already spotted you moments before you did him. But he had to keep his attention forward. No matter how anxious he was to see his favorite girl again.
They second they were dismissed Jake made a beeline right for you. Your face lit up in surprise as he headed right at you. Your body responding by moving forward you jumped right into his arms once he got close enough. He was more than ready. He wrapped his arms right around you securing you tightly to his chest while your feet locked behind him.
“Jakey.” You grinned hugging him tightly, afraid he’d be gone from your arms again you cherished every second like this. It made you realize how much you really did love the man you were holding so tightly. How much you craved him, everything about him. You’d rather not have had him gone for six months though. That was far too long for your liking. As if you had any say.
“Honey.” He cooed gently rocking you side to side. One arm snaked around your waist, one arm gently cradling your head in his hands, “You’re so fucking pretty. How’d you get even more beautiful? God I missed your face.” Jake leaned down capturing your lips in his. As gentle as he normally was with you this was hungrier. He really had missed you. Giving your hip as squeeze you felt him smile into the kiss as you squirmed away from his grasp.
Once you stopped giggling you looked right into his eyes smiling dopily, “And I missed yours, handsome man.” You gave him a wicked smirk before doing the unthinkable. Jake had warned you time and time again how he couldn’t show visible marks on the skin, or the Navy could have his ass. And maybe even yours if they were angry enough. You’d known they were empty threats, but you’d never dreamed of potentially hurting his flying in anyway. So, you’d never leave any marks.
Sliding his collar to the side you decided to throw caution to the wind seeing everybody lost in their own world with their own families. Jake’s parents were even admiring all the reunions around them instead of having their eyes fixated on the two of you. They loved watching all the joy every time. Nancy always made sure that every sailor was feeling the love. That was just one of the reasons you’d fallen in love not only with Jake but his entire family. His mom was as sweet as they came. His dad just as caring but even more tough. It was no wonder Jake was the way he was. Albeit a little more of an asshole than either of them even combined.
“Ma’am. That is abhorrent.” A vaguely familiar voice made you focus on your surroundings once more, “This is Destruction of Government Property.” You heard a cough from behind Jake drawing you away from your boyfriends neck. The look you sent could’ve killed him if it were at all possible. Bradley fucking Bradshaw. Was he actually serious right now?
You felt Jake’s laughter in his chest before you heard it. Flicking your eyes up momentarily at him you kissed him on his cheek before flipping Bradley off, “I don’t care Bradley.” You continued flipping him off while Jake held you tightly to his chest.
“Sweetheart…” Jake tried to warn you. The government really did own his ass. But his Commanding Officer was cool. He wasn’t expected to be back on base for another few weeks… what did a few hickies hurt? You knew the drill, but it didn’t seem to matter as you clung to him like he was about to vanish at any second. He looked down at your doe eyed expression, “I missed you.” He finished realizing just how hard deployment really was on you. The two of you were going on year five together. He’d been a pilot for all of them. He’d flown his hardest missions during that time. Your support never wavered. But seeing you like this? Like you’d never see him again… it hurt him. It hurt knowing you were feeling like that.
“You’ll care when there are Naval Officers on your doorstep.” Bradley tried. He really did. But you really didn’t care. You missed him more than anything. You didn’t care that his parents were there watching. You just missed him. Missed his corny ass jokes and the soft touches he always threw your way. You missed the sweet smiles and laughter that came with being around him. 
“So be it. Worth it.” You giggled as Jake pinched your sides again bringing your attention back to the man you’d dreamed about every day.
“Eyes over here darling.” He made sure to flip Bradley off before holding you back in his arms once again. He wouldn’t let you drop your hold on him. He wanted you close. He didn’t care either. He’d craved you for those months. He’d forgotten just how bad deployment got. Bradley mumbled some incoherent words before disappearing off into the crowd.
Kissing his cheek once more you nodded, “Sorry Jakey.” Brushing your hands through his hair it felt like it really was just the two of you there. Like nobody else was around.
“No need to apologize.” He whispered in your ear sending immediate chills down your spine, “You didn’t answer my question though. How’d you seem to get even more beautiful while I was gone?”
You truly felt like a little schoolgirl was a nasty crush on a boy way out of your league. He was so sweet to you and only you. Not having a clue why. You loved watching him interact with everyone else. He was so different than the man who came home to you every night. But that was Jake. Tough as they come. Sweet as can be. The biggest fight the two of you had was when he came home and told you about the six month long deployment a year ago. You didn’t even fight you were just sad. Sad that he volunteered to go. Volunteered and didn’t tell you. The two of you worked through it though. You always did.
“Shush. You’ve just been trapped on a big boat for so long I’d be offended if you didn’t think I was pretty.” You wanted to kiss him so bad. You didn’t even remember the kiss you gave him once you spotted him walk off the ship. You blacked out, truly.
“Never ever.” He grinned, “I’ll never stop complementing my beautiful girl.”
You squeezed your arms around him pulling him so much closer. You’d melt into him if you could, “You’re too sweet to me Mr. Seresin.”
He shook his head, “Not enough, I’d say.” He took the lead this time leaning down to give you a soft, sweet kiss that was far too short for your liking.
“I love you.” You whispered to him feeling oh so happy. So beyond excited he was holding you in his arms once again. You tried to step away to give his parents a chance to say hello, but he only held you tighter. Shaking his head.
“Love you too, gorgeous girl.” He hummed placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “That was it, by the way.”
You scrunched your eyes together in confusion, “What?”
He nodded his head with that larger than life smile on his face, “You’re looking at Captain Jake Seresin. Command Ground Officer.” He emphasized ground with wide eyes.
“Jake! Congrats. You didn’t tell me! Does this mean you’re here? Permanently?” Looking at him expectedly. It hit you just how good it could really get once you knew he’d be sleeping by your side every night.
He nodded his head in excitement, “At least for this job. I’ll still be flying but more on the leadership side. Training. Preparing them.”
You didn’t think your heart could swell any larger in love. But there it went. Only Jake could do that. You knew it. He knew it, “You’re not kidding right? Like you’re being serious?”
“Yes sweetheart. So serious.” He kissed your nose this time. He missed you more than you could’ve imagined. It was an impossible six months. He didn’t want to do that anymore. He couldn’t be away from you anymore. Lucky for him he had options. They let him choose. He choose to ground himself from missions. It was time to grow up and move on. He’d accomplished everything he sought out to and more already in the air. Now he was on a mission to rise to the top. Admiral Jake Seresin had a ring to it. 
You wanted to squeal but knew you had eyes all over you. Anybody could’ve been watching, “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a while J.”
“Just you wait.” He grinned ear to ear leaning down once more, whispering into your ear, “Won’t even be the best news you’ve heard all day.” Leaning all the way down he kissed you with a little bit more but keeping it PG. His parents were standing there a little annoyed that he’d chosen to be with you for so long before he even acknowledged them. But they knew. They knew the raw power of love. How much it could sway and dissuade. How deeply Jake was in love with you and how much you were with him.
“Oh? Do tell.” You pulled away looking at him curiously.
“You’ll see.” He wiggled his eyebrows just to egg you on.
You narrowed your eyebrows in on the man you loved so dearly, “You know how much I hate surprises.”
He laughed gleefully, “Oh darling, I know.” He pulled you back into him momentarily, “Promise, it’ll be worth the wait.”
“Promise?” You knew he’d keep true to his word, but you wanted to hear him confirm it.
“I promise you darling. Just you wait.” Squeezing your hand, he finally walked over to his parents bringing you right along with him. Only dropping your hand as he went in for the hug with his mom.
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Taglist: @stuffingbuttsandshit @genius2050
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j-0ne25 · 8 months
Text
ALIEN — [18+!]
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“Remember… you’re my girlfriend,” he whispers into your ear.
It lets shivers run down your spine.
God, how you wished he said that in a real context to you.
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👽 SYNOPSIS: Spawned at the age of thirteen—on his mission as a spy on planet earth—Jisung is made to build a bond with a human, quickly developing a tie of friendship and trust. On his 25th birthday, he is supposed to bring said creature to his home. But there’s a problem—by now, he has fallen hopelessly in love with you and there’s only one way to escape the awful mission: you need to return those hopeless feelings.
💭 CONTENT INFO: jisung x afab reader, alien/demon jisung, human reader, childhood friends to lovers, fake dating au, angst/smut/fluff, dark romance, mutual pining (they are dumb idiots), demisexual reader, there’s only one bed, perv jisung but reader isn’t any better lmao, based on the meme of jisung “spawning” as a teenager and a dream about an alien abduction I had in 2020, also a huge thank you @ lotus for inspiring + encouraging me to continue working on this story so make sure to check out her fic otherwordly, warnings and smut tags under the cut
🫧 WORD COUNT: 10.9K
🛸 CONTENT WARNING: (heavier topics since it’s dark romance, also contains spoilers) kidnapping, alien abduction to experiment on humans, demon powers, mention of death threats, pervy behaviour (panty stealing)
⛓️ SMUT: dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, mind reading (consensual), slight bondage, praise kink, marking, slight spit play, creampie, name calling (baby, angel, good girl, love, slut, whore)
The characters do not portray any of the skz members in real life, the names are just used for fiction. Minors do not interact, this post contains mature topics. By reading you consent to nswf content and agree that you have read all the warnings above carefully.
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Three hours
“Sometimes I feel as if I don’t belong in this world.”
Jisung’s hand comes to a halt, stopping the motion on your head for a second. Your hair feels so soft colliding with his skin.
“Do you know that feeling, Sungie?”
He chuckles. Out of embarrassment. Nervousness. You name it.
“What do you mean?”
You get up from your position—your head in his lap—now, taking the seat next to him on the sofa instead.
“You know… like an alien almost.”
He believes his heart suddenly stops. 
“No,” Jisung exhales, “I-I don’t know what you mean.”
Suddenly, you scoot a little closer again and by now your best friend believes you will actually be able to listen to his pounding heart, basically pumping through his sweater. He looks adorable like this. It was a great idea to hide all the scissors in your shared apartment and Jisung is simply both too lazy and too introverted to make an appointment at a hairdresser which works quite well for your advantages.
But not for his.
Especially, when you once again look at him like this before bringing your hand to his head, disheveling the strands. His hair is even softer than that innocent look on his face—which is surprising for two reasons.
First, Jisung practically killed his hair by an endless cycle of bleaching and dyeing it black and bleaching it again in a way too short span of time, sending any hairstylist into cardiac arrest. But it’s still beautiful and not as fried as you would have expected it to be.
Second—and this is the part that you are unaware of—Jisung is anything but innocent. Quite frankly, he’s basically the polar opposite of that term.
Not by choice, though.
He’s a victim of his own destiny after all.
“You’re a nerd, a fucking weirdo like me, Sung. You can’t tell me you’ve never felt like an outsider,” you tell him with a smirk, nudging his shoulder in the process.
But he doesn’t really react the way he usually does.
Something seems to be off today. Strangely off. 
“You said alien, not outsider,” he says, keeping his gaze on the show that is playing on the bright screen in front of him.
You catch the remote in your hand, turning off the TV.
That’s when Jisung looks at you. But mostly because he’s pissed off that you’re switching his focus on the conversation now.
He doesn’t want to talk to you about this. Not now.
Any other day would have been fine but he gets even more nauseous thinking about the consequences of the clock reaching midnight will have.
“I meant the same,” you continue. You take a sip from your lemonade, before placing the bright pink strawberry beverage back on the table in front of you. “Don’t put too much thought into what words I choose to describe similar things.”
You can see Jisung rolling his eyes. His arms are crossed in front of his chest—his very much muscular chest that he’s hiding under the thick sweater. The fact he’s been hitting the gym regularly again these past weeks makes you almost start drooling at the thought right here. 
Yeah. That’s the other issue.
You don't only find your roommate and best friend absolutely attractive but also have a massive crush on him.
Something tells you that he feels the same. You suppose, at least, judging from the way he looks at you when he believes you don't notice. 
Or the fact he always buys that strawberry-kiwi flavoured lemonade for you from the convenience store right across the street.
Or how he always makes sure you drink enough water besides that, eat your meals, get enough sleep—including cuddles with him whenever another one of those awful nightmares is haunting you.
Jisung makes dinner—aka instant ramen—for you whenever you’re too exhausted after work.
He encourages you to make appointments at doctor’s offices that are long overdue.
He holds your hand when you cry, he holds your hand when you laugh.
Jisung picks up dandelions he sees on his way home, knowing they are your favourite flowers.
I don’t care that they are considered to be weeds. They can grow anywhere, no matter the surroundings. They don’t give a shit and I love that, you’d always explain. And the way they shapeshift, not caring what others think.
Your best friend takes care of the apartment whenever you’re too tired—although he’s the most chaotic person you know.
He does the laundry, even separating the colours—yeah, unbelievable, considering he’s a man!
Speaking of laundry.
That’s where another, darker hint of him possibly having a crush on you comes into play.
You believe it started a few years ago, some time during college, but it has happened more frequently the past few months.
It’s not a big deal, you know that washing machines sometimes swallow socks and other smaller, thinner stuff.
But it can’t be a coincidence that a lot of your panties go missing, can it? Or that they take a lot longer to be washed than other pieces of clothing, right?
Especially those tighter, prettier ones. The ones that are reserved for special occasions that, well, don’t really happen but they still make you feel absolutely attractive wearing them from time to time.
Just a couple of days ago—while doing the laundry this time—you went into Jisung’s room to grab his dirty clothes from his hamper and found three or four of your worn panties hidden between his sweaters and jeans.
In addition to that, some of them were possibly a bit different than how you remembered them to look like when you discarded them—now decorated in… well… his cum.
If it was anyone else, you’d be disgusted and it perhaps sounds problematic to an outside person but since you trust him so much, you don’t care.
You feel embarrassed to admit it but for some reason you feel flustered and may have, possibly, thought about him coating your used underwear in his juices while you were inches deep in your cunt with your own fingers.
Maybe. Just maybe.
However, that’s why you want him to make the first move. You want to know that he’s serious about it before you confess anything and either those accusations are wrong or he’s just generally… weird. Pervy. Whatever.
Or doesn’t want anything serious. Which is very reasonable.
But you’re not up for casual sex, never have been. You don’t judge people craving intimacy without a special bond but after trying it some time in college, you decided you live better with meaningful encounters.
Well. Those encounters have been non-existent for some years. To be specific—since you realised how much in love you are with your weirdo roommate.
“Can we just go on with the movie?”
Right. You’re still here with him.
God it’s fucking embarrassing that those little thoughts have your heart running a marathon and you intuitively pressing your thighs together.
But Jisung doesn’t notice.
“Yeah, you are weird. Weirder than me,” you reply.
Jisung doesn’t say anything but you’re not waiting for a reaction. He’s probably stressed from all the work. His new job has been sucking all the light and life out of his soul, almost turning him into a career demon.
Since you feel bad about that, you decide to grab the remote, continuing the movie.
You can practically feel the anxiety that is shooting out of his body, filling the whole living room in a tense atmosphere.
You’ve probably gone too far. Fuck.
“Sungie?”
He sighs, since he’s not really in the mood for any more questions from you today. He just wants to get this over with. “Yeah?”
You hear the annoyance, the constant stress that is crawling under his skin and how it’s reflected in his quiet voice. So, you make sure to be extra sensitive.
“I’m glad you’re here with me. I’m sorry if my words hurt you. I just wanted to tell you how comfortable and safe I feel around you since you never judge me for being… different.”
Fuck.
This just makes him feel even more horrible.
You probably won’t think that way anymore once the clock strikes midnight.
“I’m… I’m very glad to have you, too, Y/N.”
His heart aches.
He’s definitely the worst living being in this whole universe.
Thirty minutes
You’ve fallen into a deep slumber but Jisung doesn’t care. It’s quite the opposite. There’s nothing better on this planet than having you snuggled up in his lap, your quiet and peaceful little breaths filling the room.
You trust him with your whole heart. Whatever it is—you’ll always feel comfortable around him. He’s your anchor when the floods are dragging you away from the shore right into the deep ocean.
What a shame he will destroy everything in less than half an hour.
All those years.
Those years of trust. 
Of familiarity.
Of friendship.
Of something that could have become love, perhaps.
Jisung doesn’t need to worry anymore if you return his silly little feelings. Not if he’s the one to demolish that tight bond in the next hour.
He hears a vibrating sound coming from next to his seat on the couch. His eyes switch to his second phone, screen lightening up in the dark living room.
[Boss 23:32]: The ropes and chains and all you need are in the box we sent you. Any more questions?
He could burst out into tears at the spot. But Jisung will have enough opportunities to cry out his heart later.
He hates this.
He hates everything and everyone.
This whole universe is a shitshow for throwing him into a destiny like this.
Although he’s asked his evil boss a thousand times, Jisung won’t give up. He loves you too much for this. There has to be some type of escape.
So, he types, trying again.
[Jisung 23:34]: Can’t I just ask her to come with me?
He sees the three little dots appear and his heart might as well just rip his chest open.
Another message pops up, making his head all dizzy.
[Boss 23:34]: No. That is too risky. It has to be kidnapping just to make sure she really tags along.
Fuck.
There’s no way around this horrifying situation.
Twenty five minutes.
Twenty four minutes and fifty nine seconds.
Twenty four minutes and fifty eight seconds.
You suddenly stir around in your sleep, as you adjust your position to lay on your back and still very much on Jisung’s lap.
Your beautiful eyes open a little, just as much as they manage to do in this sleepy state and enough for you to see your best friend above you.
“Sung?”
God. His heart is built up again just to break into a tiny thousand splinters another time.
He will lose you.
If it’s not for you turning against him—which would be more than understandable—he will at least lose you to those evil bosses that have made gruesome plans with you as the main character.
And Jisung happens to be the deliverer.
“Y-You’re still awake?” you ask in your sleepy state.
Your best friend places a strand of your hair behind your ear, softly grazing over your cheek—one last time.
“Yeah, baby,” Jisung softly hums, “you fell asleep. It’s almost midnight. ‘M gonna bring you to bed, okay?”
You blink a few times, propping yourself up.
“Hm? W-What about your birthday, Sungie?”
Even in a situation like this, Jisung is all you care and think about.
“My birthday will be twenty four hours long, we’ll have enough time after sleeping,” he assures you, before he picks you up.
You fall asleep in his arms, as he carries you bridal style to your room. Luckily, you’re already in your—unfortunately very skimpy—pyjamas, so Jisung only has to tuck you under the covers and lay your little plush quokka next to you. His name is Peter. Jisung gave it to you as a present on your birthday last year.
He watches you another minute, saying goodbye to the peaceful atmosphere before it’ll vanish away.
Although you’re already deep in your slumber, you still witness your best friend placing the sweetest kiss on your cheek, before he leaves your room.
Three minutes
The door creaks open again a little later and Jisung curses himself for the noise.
Unfortunately, you notice the little sound, as you wake up and change in a seating position in your bed.
“Sung? Is it your birthday yet?” you ask, when you make out his silhouette in the distance.
“No, no,” he says, as he approaches you. You can tell by the increasing volume in his soft voice.
So soft.
So opposite to what he’s about to you.
Jisung is carrying all the supplies behind him.
In a box there’s enough chains, ropes and tapes to keep you quiet.
But he can’t do it to you.
At least not like that.
He can’t physically harm you when he already isn’t able to avert the mental hurt.
“Why are you here then? Can’t sleep? We can cuddle,” you offer.
Jisung is about to get nauseous. Fuck. This is the worst day ever.
But he can’t do anything against it. He can only try to ease the situation a little.
Well, but how do you make a kidnapping attempt comfortable for the victim?
“Don’t worry about me, baby,” Jisung says, when he reaches the edge of your bed. “Go back to sleep, yeah?”
You fall down on your back again.
“Alright… good night.”
Jisung feels bad for thinking that the position you're in enlightens two thoughts he shouldn’t have.
First, you look absolutely alluring like this. Your shorts have ridden up a bit, putting your thighs on full display for him. It’s a beautiful picture—one that lets his mind wander to the idea of having you under him, watching you drool in anticipation as you beg Jisung to kiss you, to touch you, to fuck you.
Second, you’re making it a little too easy for him to fulfill his awful mission. It’ll be anything but complicated to tie your wrists and feet together, shut your mouth with some tape to throw you over his shoulder.
There’s just one small issue.
Jisung will not be able to do this while you notice anything.
He can’t do that to you. He can’t traumatise you even more.
In all of his twelve years on this planet, Jisung has never used his demon powers against people that he loves.
Well, there’s a first for everything.
👽
You wake up on the backseat of a car. The windows are darkened, making it impossible to get even a glimpse of your surroundings. 
It’s insane how fast your heart is beating and how much trouble you have getting oxygen into your lungs—mostly caused by the utmost panic that is washing over you and the restraints around your hands, arms and legs aren’t making it any easier.
You figure out that the kidnapper forgot one important thing—he didn’t cover your mouth.
However, it still takes you at least five minutes, as you listen to the sound of the engine and a song on repeat with the title Driving Nowhere thundering from the speakers, to regain power over your voice.
“Sorry– uhm– w-who are you… why am I h-here?”
He doesn’t want to talk back. But the tears are stinging in his eyes when he hears the fear in your broken words.
How could he have done this to you?
He is your best friend. The person you’re the closest with, that means the most to him. He would literally kill for you.
And now he’s hurting you instead?
Well, it’s not as if he’s ever had the choice.
That was his destiny from the beginning.
Who would have thought he would first befriend his victim and then hopelessly fall in love with them?
Jisung is the worst demon to ever exist.
But he’s never wanted this life anyway.
Maybe he can somehow justify kidnapping you once he explains that the only other alternative would have been that both your lives end here. To be fair—that isn’t really an option.
“Y/N…” he decides to call out your name. He can’t lie to you. He’s been crying about this since the car ride, that’s supposed to bring you to the portal, started an hour ago.
When the sound of his voice enters your ears, your breath hitches.
What on earth is going on?
Does this have something to do with his birthday?
It could be. But why are you restricted by ropes and chains then?
“Sungie?” your voice is so small, almost inaudible, but he still catches that sweet but terrified melody.
“I’m… sorry…”
You break out into laughter then. More like a scoff. You don’t know what to say or do.
Maybe it’s a dream. You’ve been having a bunch of weird ones these past weeks.
But something tells you it’s not. Something tells you this is reality.
“So you’re… kidnapping me?” you decide to just ask him.
“I… am. Yeah.”
He’s not even denying it?
Is this one of those little fantasies he has?
Jisung doesn’t know about it but some time ago you accidentally scrolled through his browser history when you were borrowing his computer for a work project, finding a collection of ebooks, mangas and animes all including darker genres.
There was also some adult content revolving around helplessness, hypnosis and bondage as well. It wasn’t anything too alarming, all in a consensual context but putting two and two together it’s absolutely weird now.
And, yes. You watched those videos. Of course, only for scientific purposes. Although, you may have discovered some unknown kinks of yours in the process.
However, there’s a difference between having a fantasy about something and actually doing it.
“Jesus Christ, I told you to stop consuming those weird books and shows about demons and God knows what. It seriously fucks with your brain.”
Jisung thinks his body paralyses. It’s a miracle that he can still keep his eyes on the road and his hands on the steering wheel.
You’re sure there’s an explanation behind this.
You trust your best friend too much to believe he’s been leading you on for the past twelve years to then grab you and bring you somewhere unknown. It’s obvious that he hides some secret identity—maybe he’s a spy or working for secret services and can’t tell you more and therefore has to kidnap you to bring you along to his next mission.
Jisung has been behaving suspiciously his whole life, you’ve always thought it’s funny. Especially since he seems to not grasp that you’re aware of it.
Of course, it’s fucking toxic nonetheless. It doesn’t matter if his intentions are pure, he’s scared you for life.
So, the only logical consequence is to tease him as well.
With your own weapons.
“Besides that,” you start again, “if you wanted to fuck me, you could have just told me.”
The car comes to a halt when he suddenly hits the breaks. Jisung can be glad no one is driving behind you around that hour since he would have otherwise caused an accident.
“W-What?” he asks.
“Just kidding,” you say. “I’ll go back to sleep, wake me up once we’re at our destination.”
Jisung gulps. So loud that you must have heard it.
Maybe that’s why you open your eyes again, before you start speaking, “Also, before I forget it…”
He looks at your reflection in the rearview mirror.
“Huh?”
You click your tongue.
“Happy birthday, you weirdo.”
👽 
It’s a miracle but you actually manage to fall asleep again.
Well, you did. But before you were able to wake up, Jisung used his demon powers again to make sure it stays this way.
That’s how he manages to guide you through the portal unscathed and he’s so fucking glad about it, he’s close to tears again.
You’re only waking up a little while later, sitting on a bench next to none other than your best friend who's holding you in his arms. The restraints around your wrists and ankles are gone but you can still sense the tight feeling around them, no matter how careful Jisung was with you.
“Where am I?” you blurt out, hastily turning your head around, taking in your surroundings.
“Safe with me, I-I promise,” Jisung says.
The air tastes weird around here. You’re sure you’re inside a building but oxygen seems pure, as if you’re inhaling molecules at the beach—one that is far from any type of civilization. All natural.
People seem to be generally smaller here, Jisung being amongst the tallest.
Weird. You really can’t figure out which country you’re in.
You have a distant memory of the car ride earlier but what happened after that is wiped out. You suppose that Jisung brought you here, possibly by plane.
Earth seems to turn around faster, making you dizzy. Maybe you’re closer to the equator which would explain the intense speed.
But that shouldn’t be that much of a difference, right?
It’s almost as if you can feel the rotation of the massive rock that gravity glues you to spinning around.
Speaking of gravity—from time to time it’s almost as if a force is pulling you to the ground. Not strong enough for you to actually land on the floor, but you still feel it.
It’s all so… weird.
You seriously don’t know how else to word it.
But Jisung is here with you.
As ridiculous as it sounds, you feel safe with Jisung. Here in his arms. His warm breath tingles your skin whenever he pulls you closer.
You noticed the tears in his eyes minutes ago and maybe they are enough to tell you he didn’t want this oddinary situation either.
“I believe you,” you tell him.
His head snaps towards your face, as he stares at you in disbelief.
“Really?”
Well, even if you wouldn’t—it’s not like you have a choice anyway. You’re completely relying on him.
“I do. So, could you please explain to me what the fuck is going on?”
He gulps, then he nods and a few more tears spill from his beautiful dark brown eyes. God. They’ve always amazed and almost hypnotised you to some extent.
“Y-Yeah,” he hesitantly begins, “it’s gonna sound dumb and weird but please bear with me.”
When you nod, Jisung gains enough confidence to start explaining.
“We’re not on planet Earth but on an earth-like planet called ITEM 180325—yes, the name is dumb, humans chose that years ago—that is also part of our solar system.”
He watches your confused expression. You’re caught in a bad movie, you’re sure. But the first thing that comes to your mind is something else.
“Wait– isn’t our solar system made of Venus, Mars, Saturn and others?”
Jisung nods, “Yeah. ITEM 180325 is just a dwarf planet, even further away than Pluto and for some reason, humans on earth haven’t realised yet that there's oxygen and water and such here. There’s the theory that… we originated from earth, that ITEM collided with it or split apart from it years ago. I-It’s the planet where I am actually from.”
Your mouth falls agape. “What?!”
Jisung is not… human?
Your best friend chuckles, “I know, it sounds absolutely ridiculous. But it’s the truth. It explains why the habitants here look human-like, just smaller which is caused by the gravity that’s a lot more intense here.”
“And I’ve always thought you’re just not tall,” you say.
“Oh, I am tall here,” Jisung says, crossing his arms in front of his chest, earning a small nudge from you.
“Anyway, tell me more, Ji.”
He looks around, making sure no one listens to what you say. After all, the inhabitans of ITEM have mastered their skills in almost every language that is spoken on earth.
If you thought humans were great scientists and astronomers, you haven’t met ITEM’s people before. They’re much more advanced in anything technological, basically a thousand levels and years ahead.
That also explains what follows next.
He nods, “I’ve been a spy on planet earth since I was thirteen and, well, this will sound pretty bad but my main mission was to bring you here on my 25th birthday.”
You look at him with big eyes and Jisung takes one last deep breath, before he announces the worst part of this all.
“Please know that I didn’t h-have any choice to make. They threatened to k-kill both of us if I didn’t o-obey–“
“I believe you,” you cut him off.
But he instantly wents on with his rambling.
“They recruit humans h-here for… experiments. I don’t know exactly what they do but rumours say that it’s pretty bizarre and crucial. T-That’s why we’re here but– I already have a plan B how we will escape so please don’t–“
“Okay. I trust you,” you reassure him.
That’s when your words register.
You… trust him?
Seriously?
Never ever in this world he would have expected you to not detest him after what he did to you.
“Wow… I thought you would hate me after this.”
You understand him. You’ve always been an empath and you get that there was no other possibility than this.
And besides that…
He’s still Jisung.
Your Jisung.
Your best friend. Your other half. The person you trust the most in this world.
“I could never hate you.”
It’s the most inconvenient situation but you can’t control it. Your gaze flickers down to Jisung lips. God, those beautiful lips. How often you dreamt about laying your own on them…
And he notices you staring at him, as the thinnest layer of pink appears on his squishy cheeks.
But you can’t kiss him. Not here. Not now.
You still have so many questions and when the ideas start running around, doing parkour in your head, you just start speaking.
“Ji, is that… why you don’t have any… family?”
He instantly knows what you’re referring to.
Right. His alien identity.
You both still have to get used to the secret being revealed now.
“Yeah. I have relatives here but they… abandoned me. That’s why the government assigned me this horrible mission. I indeed spawned at the age of thirteen on Earth.”
You think back to how you two first met.
Eighth grade, a warm morning in early September. His tanned skin was glittering so beautifully in the autumn sun.
Jisung told you right from the start that he’s been living in an orphanage but he never seemed sad about it. It all makes sense now.
You can’t miss something that you’re not aware of.
Besides that, the love and trust he got from you and your relatives has always been enough to feed his heart.
His smile proves that he must be thinking about the same fond memories right now, you can tell—almost as if you’re communicating without any words.
“Han Jisung, Y/LN Y/N.”
A voice suddenly erupts from right beside you. It comes from a man wearing a name tag that says The President’s right hand man.
“Your appointment with the president is next.”
The man disappears again, leaving your best friend and you alone in the corridor, still sitting close together on the bench.
That’s when you see Jisung’s mood has suddenly shifted. It did a one hundred and eighty degree turn.
Fear. All over his face. You can practically feel it with your own heart.
He realises now that this might be over soon.
Fuck.
He hates himself now for never making a move on you.
Jisung could have spend hours, days, months and years kissing and loving you if he hadn’t been such a fucking coward.
“Okay, calm down, Sungie,” he hears you speak.
But he just looks at you.
“How the fuck am I supposed to calm down? How the fuck are you not stressed?!”
You grab both his arms, holding him, trying to ease his mind as much as possible.
“Because I trust you. I trust us. There must be something to stop that evil mission,” you say.
That’s when a lightbulb appears over his head, rushing away the dark clouds that had been above him just prior.
“There… there is… but I can’t expect that from you,” he says with a shy voice.
Yeah. As if you’d care.
You’d do anything to save the both of you. 
You would literally kill for Jisung.
“God, stop playing around. Whatever it is, I’ll do it,” you say all nonchalantly.
He takes a deep breath, as he catches a glimpse of the palms of his hands that are lying in his lap.
“They w-will be… less likely to do experiments on you if… if you’re my g-girlfriend.”
That’s it?
You were expecting some stuff including a billion won, your first born and a fucking unicorn.
“Alright. Let’s do this, then,” you tell him.
“Really?”
Don’t get your hopes up too high, Jisung.
“Sure, bro. If that’s what it takes for me to survive, I’ll play the best girlfriend you've ever had.”
Bro.
Yeah, he should in fact not get his hopes up too high.
In the meantime, you curse yourself for calling him that.
Bro.
Well, you don’t want him to believe you have a crush on him.
Which is dumb because you, in fact, have a crush on him.
But Jisung doesn’t. You’re sure.
He’s just the kindest person and always watching out for you because you’re friends.
This doesn’t explain the laundry-incident but that’s neither the right place nor time to debate this very much arousing disaster in your head right now.
There’s another thing that needs to be discussed beforehand.
“How do we get back?”
“Hm?”
“You know, back home,” you say.
The lightbulb turns on again.
“Oh I… there’s this guy I have to find at the ceremony tonight… he’s like a spy from earth, originally from ITEM as well but turned his back against them. He has been in a situation like this and will help us. His name is Minho. We met before.”
His words fully convince you that Jisung didn’t want this at all.
This time you hear the door next to you swing open, revealing the man from earlier.
You reach for your best friend, no, fake boyfriend’s hand, squeezing it a little.
It’s gonna be okay.
You’re gonna get out of here alive and well.
The man with the name tag is suddenly next to you again and coughs, drawing your attention to him.
“Sorry to announce this but the appointment will be postponed to tomorrow morning. The president invites you to the welcome party for all the humans tonight, though.”
Oh.
You don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing and judging from Jisung’s look on his face he doesn’t know how to categorise this either.
“Here is the key card for your room. Since you seem to be a couple, we assigned you a shared room.”
👽
The dress in a teal shade doesn’t only hug your body quite perfectly but also matches the tie that Jisung is wearing. It makes sense—the president must have chosen that for the both of you.
You’re already entering the party venue, when your mind is still occupied with the view of the hotel room they have given you.
Absolutely luxurious—to an amount that it looks nothing but pretentious—with a huge king size bed in the middle. Ornaments of pure gold, shimmering diamonds and real silk are embellishing the interior.
It’s not like Jisung and you haven’t slept in one bed before, you’ve been best friends for twelve years—going on camping trips during the summer months every year—and with your current nightmares occurring spontaneous cuddle sessions have been happening more frequently. 
However, this whole fake dating thing and the possibility of never seeing him again as of tomorrow, if the bosses decide to keep you for their psychopathic little experiments, it makes you wonder if this is the last possibility you get to finally do what you’ve been dreaming of for the past years.
You don’t even care anymore, you won’t let the chance slip again.
Not when you don’t know what follows tomorrow.
Or if tomorrow follows at all.
“Are you okay, baby?”
Jisung has called you by this name since some night in college when the nightmares started.
What you don’t know is that it was simultaneously when your best friend fell even harder for you. He’s always had a crush on you but his feelings hit harder on a random friday, when he picked you up from a party. You drank way too much after seeing your toxic ex at the frat house and just got emotional.
On autopilot, you dialed your best friend’s number and he immediately went there and brought you home to your shared apartment. He made sure you got sober again, made food for you and helped you get ready for bed—even brushing your teeth when you fell asleep in the middle of the process—and stayed by your side until the morning.
The first nightmare was probably caused by mixing beer, vodka and tequila together throughout the night. But the next ones followed for different reasons.
Those are the side effects of his demon powers.
Making someone he loves suffer in order to pull them closer to him. To make them cling to him.
So that he can take care of you.
It’s absolutely fucked up. But that’s how things are when you’re from ITEM.
“I’m okay, no worries,” you tell him.
You wonder if time stood still for a minute when your thoughts were running around again.
“Would you like something to drink?”
Your head snaps towards Jisung. God. You really have to calm down.
But how?
You’re fighting for your life, basically, and pretend to be Jisung’s significant other.
Being his lover is all you’ve ever dreamt of. After all, during nights of procrastination in college—which should have been spent with studying—it wasn’t unusual for you to create a sim of Jisung and one of you and make them marry each other, living their happily ever after.
Luckily, Jisung never caught you. That would have been the embarrassment of the century.
“Yeah… but water is fine,” you say.
“Of course.”
Jisung decides to copy your choice, as he tells you to wait. He walks towards the bar, asking for two glasses of iced cold water to keep you both awake.
Just when he’s about to grab the objects and head back towards you, someone stops him.
“Han Jisung?”
Strong arms instantly fill his vision. The guy isn’t much smaller than him, definitely one of the taller ones on this planet.
But how does he know his name?
“Yeah… that’s me. And you are?”
The buff man takes a sip from his bright pink glittering drink, the scents of pitaya entering Jisung’s nostrils. The liquid evaporates shimmering dust, drawing his attention to it.
Something like this would never happen on earth.
Maybe Jisung should have gotten a fancy beverage like this as well, but he needs to stay sober.
“I’m Changbin, nice to meet you.”
The name lets the lightbulb appear above Jisung’s head again.
This is good. Very good.
“Do you know if Minho is here?”
Changbin nods, “Oh, yeah. I saw him dancing with his spouse earlier. He should be somewhere around.”
“Thank you.”
Jisung takes the glasses in his hand, before he walks back to you and gives you one of them.
He doesn’t know what overtakes him—maybe the desperation, the hopelessness or his true love for you—but he gets dangerously close to you in a public setting.
All of a sudden, Jisung grabs your hand and for a second you get startled because of it.
“Remember… you’re my girlfriend,” he whispers into your ear.
It lets shivers run down your spine.
God, how you wished he said that in a real context to you.
You dearly hope your little lies will be successful enough to bring you back to earth and escape that shitshow. This whole setting is worth more than all your worst nightmares combined.
That’s when it clicks.
You’ve never cared about any label between the both of you.
Of course, you want to do things with Jisung that friends usually don’t do.
You’ve imagined him being the man next to you at the altar.
But you’ve always been okay with how everything has always been. It’s because you love Jisung so much that it doesn’t matter to you, what you two are.
You just want him close.
You just want him to be with you.
You just want him.
Maybe that’s true love after all.
Jisung’s been staring at you for a solid minute now, still holding your hand and pulling you closer. But complaining is the last thing you want to do.
It overcomes him right again.
All of a sudden, you feel a soft kiss on your cheek. It lasts a little longer than you would have expected.
“Everything’s gonna be okay, angel. I promise.”
Angel.
That’s unusual.
Jisung called you by this name only a few times.
The first one was when you fell off your bike when you two were fourteen. He rushed to you and even though he didn’t know anything about giving first aid, he still managed to make you feel better. Just him being there let the pain vanish away.
The second time was when your first boyfriend broke up with you in highschool, leaving you for the girl he told you not to worry about. When you called, Jisung was basically already at your house, bringing you a bag full of ice cream, candies and tissues without saying anything.
The third time was in college when you didn’t pass an exam you’ve been studying for for months but the professor didn’t like you. He assured you with the kindest and sweetest words, including this little pet name.
“Han Jisung, glad to have you here.”
The movie of nostalgic memories that is playing in front of your inner eyes suddenly comes to a halt.
You see your best friend taking a bow and you copy his movements.
“Mr Park. Thank you for the invitation.”
The man has a name tag on his suit jacket, saying The President’s right hand man. It’s the one from earlier.
“Oh, please, call me Jinyoung,” he says, shaking Jisung’s hands.
Jisung bows once more. Jinyoung gives you a warm smile, making you wonder how this person could possibly be involved in any of the deviant experiments.
“Your girlfriend is an asset to our whole planet. I can really imagine the two of you living happily ever after here,” he says, still keeping his gaze on you.
You thank him, feeling heat rise up to your head.
Then, Jinyoung comes a little closer to Jisung, aligning his mouth with your friend’s ear, making it impossible for you to catch his next words.
“What a shame your little fake relationship wasn’t convincing enough.”
You see Jisung freeze—his whole face and body paralyses.
“Baby?” he calls you.
“Hm?”
“Here,” he says, giving you the keycard, “why don’t you go to the hotel room, I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”
You simply nod, too confused to ask any questions. So, you just follow suit, leaving Jisung alone.
In the meantime, he gathers up all his strength and focus to do what he has to do—find the guy he is looking for.
Lee Minho.
He has a faded memory of what he looks like. They met some years ago at a meeting on earth.
Five minutes pass. Another ten minutes follow.
Jisung is giving up.
Although Changbin told him Minho will be here, he doubts it at this point. Maybe, he just didn’t want Jisung to feel any more hopeless.
“Why are you drinking water, when there’s plenty of fancy beverages to try here?”
The voice startles him. It sounds familiar.
Jisung turns his head around, staring right into the eyes of the man he’s been searching for.
“Is it you… Minho?”
“Yeah– Jisung?” he asks when he notices his old friend.
“Chan… told me to search for you,” Jisung explains.
That’s when it fully clicks. Minho realises what their older, shared friend told him.
They’ve all been in similar situations before. Minho brought his assigned human here roughly two years ago, on his 25th birthday. He fell in love with them as well, the same Netflix drama-like disaster Jisung is caught in now.
They weren’t dating either, Minho had the same stupid idea to just pretend, soon realising it’s not enough to fight against everything evil.
So, Minho is his last chance. He’s the only one who can tell him how to survive. After all, he saved his person and himself two years ago, too.
“Park said we… w-weren’t convincing. Does this m-mean the worst?”
Jisung’s palms are sweaty, his knees are getting weaker and weaker with every second.
“Well… there’s still time. I will explain the rules to you. But in order to get back to earth, you have to follow them exactly how I tell you. No chickening out,” Minho warns him.
It’s all or nothing.
“Sure. Whatever it is, I– we will do it,” Jisung says.
“You both have to work on it.”
Jisung nods, rubbing with his hands over the sides of his pants because his palms are still so sweaty. God. He’s so fucking nervous. Not about what Minho will tell him but about the whole situation and growing possibility of not being able to save you.
“So, what is it, Minho?”
The older one gets a little closer, making sure no one hears them.
“Your love wasn’t convincing enough… We had a few couples here pretending to be in a relationship or get married even. I did the same back then. But the evil force can’t be overpowered if it’s not real.”
Jisung nods, trying to catch all the words despite the deafening sound of his heart beating at the speed of light.
“This means,” Minho continues, “you should work on that, make it as authentic as possible and if you meet that expectation, the portal will open on its own. You still have a chance—at the very last when you’re at the meeting with the president tomorrow. But the sooner, the safer.”
He pulls Minho into a hug, clinging onto his friend.
“Thank you so much.”
The other man chuckles, “Not for that. See you on earth.”
👽
“So, it wasn’t enough,” you sum up Jisung’s five minute long hysterical monologue.
He came back with tears in his eyes, falling to his knees and begging you for forgiveness that he brought you into this. You shushed him up again, telling him to not be such a drama queen and that whatever’s going on can be solved.
Then, he poured his heart out, telling you about Jinyoung’s words and how he met Minho afterwards.
You have to do more than this. You have to be real.
“We weren’t authentic,” you repeat his words.
I am the most authentic, Y/N, because I am in love with you, Jisung thinks but he doesn’t say it out loud.
“Maybe… maybe not enough,” he adds.
Well. That still sounds very manageable.
You can act the best if it’s not acting, after all.
Showing Jisung affection isn’t the hardest thing in this world. Sure, you haven’t done it before, haven’t made a serious move so far because of your stupid crush on him but now it’s live or die and you can at least blame it on that.
A win-win situation.
Not really. But you keep telling yourself exactly that.
“We can work on that,” you say.
“H-How?” he shyly asks.
“We… could kiss. For instance,” you suggest, slowly nodding your head.
Jisung’s eyes are practically falling out.
“N-Now?”
If not now, when? Does he want to wait until tomorrow?
You doubt it’s a good idea to randomly start a make out session when meeting the president for the first time just to be escorted to the experiment building.
“Why not? You said the portal might open on its own when we’re convincing enough. We have no time to lose,” you remind him.
Jisung nods and just when he’s about to take a step towards you, he decides to take off his suit jacket as well as the tie.
He pulls at the teal fabric, loosening it before he throws it right on the chair a few meters away.
Oh, God.
You’re doomed.
With long strides he approaches you, before he grabs your face with both his hands.
“Are you sure you want this?”
It’s the only chance he’s got.
It’s the only chance you’ve got.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
For a second Jisung believes this isn’t about pretending anymore.
Especially, when he finally presses his lips against yours and you instantly give in, practically melt and then drown in his hold. Your hands copy his motions, as you pull him closer. He instead places his own on your hips, pulling you closer.
You can’t get enough. He hasn’t even done much yet but you’re already under his spell.
Jisung’s tongue grazes over your lips next, asking for entrance which you eagerly allow him. Your own starts dancing with his, swirling around at the same pace and rhythm of your heartbeats. 
He can’t hold back—his lips are leaving their place, very much against your preference, but he makes up for it when he attaches them to your jaw instead. The most beautiful patterns wander down your neck, before they decide to stay there for a little longer, drawing the prettiest flowers all over again, almost like a tattoo that’ll remind you of who you’ve belonged to all along.
When Jisung pulls back for a second, his eyes finding yours, you could swear they darkened by a thousand shades, almost looking—unreal, magical, demonic.
“Still not enough, huh?” he teases, like the menace he is.
His hand is keeping your head in place, index finger lifting up your chin so that you’re forced to look at him.
“Hm, we could try more, Sungie,” you playfully reply, clicking your tongue.
“More?” he asks, pretending he doesn’t know what you’re referring to.
After all, your request should be the most intimate form two souls can engage with, right?
Jisung hasn’t forgotten about the fact that you’re only sleeping with people you have a strong, romantic connection with. But he’s too shy to ask what this means and also doesn’t want to ruin the mood.
And well, in your case this shouldn’t be a hindrance anyway.
“Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about burying your cock inside me before,” you provoke him.
“H-How–“
There’s a reason Jisung hasn’t made a move on you before. It’s, well, let’s say connected to his identity of not being human.
At least he blames it on that and not the fact he’s an absolute coward.
“I caught you stealing my underwear, you creep.”
Well and that. Yeah. That was also something holding him back.
His guilty conscience.
But when he can’t be with you, he thought the idea of you would live up to it.
Spoiler: It didn't. Jisung got desperate over time and the fact he has all those deep and dark desires, a million times stronger caused by his hidden strength, didn’t make thinking logically any easier.
It did start innocently. At first, they were just thoughts. Then, you accidentally left one of your panties in his laundry basket when giving him his fresh clothes.
And well from there… it all went downhill. He tried to be as discreet about it as possible.
He always made sure to throw your panties into his own hamper after… using them for what they’re not intended to be used for.
Spoiler: He failed.
“Y/N– I’m sorry I–“
Your hand wanders up to his face now. He deserves a little teasing.
Was it wrong doing this? Absolutely.
Did it just turn you on even more? Maybe.
So, you brush over his cheeks with your fingers, as a pout appears on your face.
Jisung is terrified. He feels bad about it and you can definitely tell.
“You’re a bit of a pervert but it’s a good thing that I’m the same when it comes to you,” you whisper.
That’s when his eyes darken even further, almost making him look like a creature from another world.
Well…
“You like the idea, hm?”
Oh, fuck.
You underestimated this.
“You’re craving my hands all over you? Want me to touch you, to take care of you, angel?”
He kisses you again. A billion times more passionate than before, if that’s even possible. You give in, allow him to guide you through the movements, before you pull away.
“I want you,” you tell him and that’s all he needs to hear.
Jisung lets go for a second to switch off the big light and turn on the little lamps above the headboard instead, shrouding the room in a dim colour of red. How convenient this hotel is.
You chuckle, when he comes closer again, already busy continuing the little artwork on your neck again. 
You lose track of time and space, of everything that the universe has ever come up with. Nothing matters when you’re with Jisung, he’s all you’ve ever needed and if you’re to die tomorrow, you lived the best life you could’ve ever had.
“You’re beautiful,” he says between kisses, but all you can do is whimper, as your head falls back, letting him take the lead.
“Baby?”
He disconnects his lips for a second from your skin, before he lifts up his gaze, wanting to be on eye level with you.
“Y-Yeah?”
Jisung takes a deep breath. He still has to warn you about something before you take this any further. God, he seriously prays you won’t freak out.
“Once we start… you may have noticed how my eyes turn darker… I won’t be… won’t be able to stop… there are these powers that will t-take over me and they will affect you too and–“
“I want this. I’ve wanted this for years,” you reassure him.
Whatever it is, you’re fine with it. You’re not surprised he might differ a little from humans, he’s not from earth after all.
Meanwhile, Jisung is busy trying to not scream out loud.
You’ve wanted this for years? For fucking years?
“Are you for real?”
“Yeah. I thought you’d catch the hint sooner,” you let him know.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
He tilts his head a little, bringing his hand to your face to place a strand of hair behind your ear.
A move he did so many times before but for some reason your heart skips two beats in a row this time instead of just one.
“I wanted you to make the first move… with all your pervy behaviour I wanted to make sure you’re doing this because of me and not some general thing–“
“No. Just you. It has been you all along,” he admits.
“Then… what are you still waiting for, Han Jisung?” 
That’s when his eyes darken to the fullest, filling your whole vision. He looks like… something mystical. Like the opposite of an angel and you wonder if that’s the reason he chose that name for you.
“Ruin me, demon boy,” you half-jokingly say.
But since it’s Han Jisung we’re talking about, of course this only turns him on even more.
He instantly goes in for a kiss and now the feeling overtakes you completely, you feel your souls connecting—a sensation you can’t describe with any word of any language you’ve ever learnt.
It’s like he’s your gravity and you’re floating in space, getting closer to him until you become one.
Jisung’s hands are by now all over you and you wonder how long it’ll take him to basically rip that short teal dress apart, until… well… the dress leaves your body on its own.
It wasn’t Jisung who took it off you, he was way too busy pulling his own button up shirt over his head.
Which means…
“You can take off– with your mind?!” you ask, standing there in your underwear only.
Jisung admires your body for a second and when he realises you’re wearing his favourite pair of panties of yours, he fears he might just cum on the spot. God, how many times he sneaked into your room to grab that specific piece of fabric.
“Hm, I can do a lot more than that,” he tells you.
“For instance?”
“Well, just in general fuck your brains out.”
The words leave his lips all casually and you might as well swoon right here, right now.
But Jisung is faster, already picking you up—bridal style—to place you on the huge bed. The mattress shifts under your weight and moves a little more when he follows.
He gets rid of his pants next, leaving him only in his boxers. You can already see the outline of his hardening cock, straining against the fabric of his underwear. Your friend turned lover positions his upper body between your legs, parting your thighs with no effort, before his lips make the most beautiful sequel of that artwork on your neck.
And that’s when your mind goes blank.
You don’t know if Jisung helped you out of your bra, if it was his demon power or you yourself but a minute later you find yourself almost completely naked in his hold.
Jisung’s fingers are grazing over the thin material of your panties. They’re practically transparent—arousal dripping through them—which is the reason they are his favourite. He imagined you wearing these and wondered if he could catch a glimpse of your pretty pussy whenever you walked up the stairs in front of him while wearing a dress.
He could. A few times when your skirts were short enough.
But nothing comes close to having you a few inches away from him, sprawled out on the bed, begging for more.
However, Jisung takes his time. Painfully slowly, he finally slips down your underwear but keeps it not too far away for later purposes.
As if he’s controlling your mind—but you’re in fact just more than eager—you part your legs even further, granting him better access. Jisung dives right in, after spreading your pussy lips apart. His tongue collides with your clit and for a second you believe you’re in heaven.
Collecting a little bit of saliva—although you’re more than wet enough for him—he spits on your sensitive nub, just to go right back to making out with it. You’re already arching your back, gripping the sheets and begging for more.
Your head gets thrown back and whimper after whimper leaves your mouth. Just when Jisung lets out a moan himself, drowning in your delicious scents, your gaze snaps back.
He looks so alluring. Almost like an angel, a God—it’s unbelievable he is supposed to be a demon or whatever he calls himself.
“Oh, thank you baby,” Jisung coos.
“I… I didn’t say anything, did I?”
You’re confused.
You did only think that, right?
Not that you’re denying anything but you don’t remember speaking even a syllable these past minutes. All that’s made it out of your mouth have been moans so far.
“Well… not out loud,” Jisung smirks. “I can still hear you.”
“You can read my mind,” you say. “You can read my mind?!”
He chuckles now.
“Demon powers, sorry. Should I turn it off?”
“No it’s…” something I touched myself to before, you want to say but cut off your words.
“Yeah, angel? It’s what?”
Angel.
Of course.
Han Jisung, you’re a fucking tease.
The brattiest demons of them all.
“I like it… yeah,” you admit.
“Me, too.”
Then you see his tie move on its own, basically levitating towards the bed. Right from the chair where it was just mere seconds ago.
Absolutely normal, sure.
The fabric is hovering over your head now, before it comes dangerously close to your wrists.
That’s when Jisung—despite seeing that absolutely eager look on your face—gets hit with second guesses.
“Are you okay with that? Or is it weird because–“
“No, I like that, too,” you confess.
“You like that?”
The smirk that appears over his face is letting heat rush towards your face.
“Maybe a little more than just liking.”
“Hm, I can tell,” he teases you.
“How? I didn’t think that.”
“Oh, solely by the way you’re squeezing your thighs together. I would have noticed that as well if I was a human.”
His tongue brushes over his teeth, one corner of his mouth rises up a little.
“You little–“
“Nah, you’re gonna be a good girl now, yeah?”
Oh, fuck.
“What if I’m not?”
The fabric floats closer to you, slowly wrapping around your wrists until your arms get thrown over your head. The tie turns into a knot, gluing you to the metallic headboard.
“Well, that would be a pity because only good girls are allowed to cum,” he warns.
That’s how you find yourself—all obediently—right back where you were a few minutes ago. Moaning, screaming, underneath him.
Jisung flicks his tongue over your clit, all whilst two of his fingers are dangerously close to your entrance, circling around it.
The tight piece of clothing around your hands stings a little, but you have to admit that you enjoy it even more because of the sensation. Despite that, you can’t think of anything right now anyway. Not when Jisung is finally pushing his two digits it, immediately feeling you clench around him.
He wonders what it will feel like to bury his cock inside you.
You’re wondering the same, or something similar, that’s why you call out his name.
“Sungie?”
“Hm?”
Jisung looks up from between your thighs, lips and chin covered in your arousal and feels you clench around his fingers when you notice. So, he starts moving them, still listening to your words.
“What did you think about when you… stole my panties?”
He chuckles, “Exactly this, to be honest. Have you squirming underneath me. Begging me for more. Absolutely helpless and eager.”
The thrusting motions continue, he scissors you open a little, before he adds a third finger. You let out another moan, nearly not catching what he says next.
“But I also thought about… how I would make love to you.”
There’s no possibility to respond or even think about his words when he shuts you up by curling those digits in an angle that makes him reach that certain spot inside you. When Jisung feels the effect he has on you, he brings his tongue right back on your clit, drawing circles around it.
“Sung– I–“
He nods, way too busy with his tongue, attacking your swollen bud even further. The thrusting movements pick up their pace and a few seconds later, you come undone, screaming his name for dear life, gripping the headboard.
Ecstasy takes over your whole body, possessing your complete mind and soul. Jisung helps you ride out your high, decreasing his speed when he feels you get even more sensitive from his touch. He pulls out of you and you watch him lick his fingers clean, wiping away your remaining liquids on his face.
“Jisung…”
He’d thought you’d be a little exhausted from that mindblowing orgasm, but it seems as if his powers are already taking over you again.
“Yeah, baby?”
You pull him closer, another passionate kiss follows as you taste yourself on his tongue.
“Need you…”
He chuckles once again, “What do you need, angel?”
You grunt. “Your cock inside me– please–“
So, he loosens the tie around your wrist and just manhandles you around in a ninety degree turn, flips you onto your stomach with little to no strength needed.
You see his underwear land on the chair across the bed and that’s when you notice something else right beside it. There must be a reason why Jisung opted for this position—he can watch your pretty face in the mirror while railing you into oblivion from behind.
“You ready, love?”
Love.
Jisung’s stroking his length, as you’re on all fours for him, giving access to your aching heat.
“It’s been some time… since I…” you tell him.
That’s when he slows down a little, softly brushing over your entrance with the tip of his cock.
“I’ll be gentle, yeah?”
Almost unbelievable, considering those words leave the mouth of a demon.
You hastily nod, before he pushes a few centimetres in. Your walls tighten around him in an instant, welcoming him in. His size is definitely above average but you’re not surprised. After all, you’ve watched him wear those grey sweatpants with definitely no boxers underneath before.
You’re not any better than him when it comes to watching and dreaming unholy thoughts about roommates.
“Sung– you’re so big–“ you let out.
“Shh, you can take it, baby.”
You nod and that’s when he finally bottoms you out. He starts moving with a painfully slow pace but you thank him for that, as he stretches you out carefully.
“Look in the mirror,” he orders. “I want you to watch how I fuck you, I want you to see what a slut you are for me.”
Oh, God. You’re already close again. That’s what his words do to you.
His cock is stroking your walls delightfully, as you follow his demand. Your nails are digging into the sheets, holding onto the fabric for dear life while Jisung fucks you senseless.
“You look so pretty, angel. Letting me do all the work while you’re being such a good slut for me, hm?”
“Hm…” you hum in agreement.
“Don’t need to think about anything, baby. Just let me take care of you, yeah? I know exactly what’s good for you.”
And so, you do.
Jisung picks up his pace, finding that spot inside you again when he changes his angle and adjusts your position a little. Two of fingers wander between your legs, as they start to rub your clit again like his tongue did earlier.
Mindless babble leaves your lips, your brain has shut off a long time ago.
Nothing matters anymore when he’s fucking you this good.
“Baby?” he suddenly calls out for you.
You want to reply but only a moan makes it past your lips, so you eagerly nod instead.
Jisung chuckles, “I’m going to make you cum all over my cock as if it’s the only thing you were made to do.”
It seems as if he can in fact control your mind—or you’re just dangerously close to your second climax because he’s taking such good care of you.
“Need to– close–“ you cry out.
Skin is slapping against skin. Squelching sounds are filling the room. Moans definitely make it past these four walls.
“No, baby, not until you beg for it like the good whore you are,” he tells you.
“Sungie, please, please, please–“
“You can do more than that, sweetheart,” Jisung adds, knowing he’s just as close as you are.
“Please– I need to cum– can I– please?”
“Okay, okay, angel, I’ve got you, yeah?”
Your vision gets filled with stars, as the feeling takes over you, sensation spreading through your veins. It triggers Jisung to reach his high as well and after you begged him for it, he paints your walls white, shooting his thick spurts of cum into your cunt.
Everything after that is a total blur. Jisung takes care of your fragile body, cleans you with a towel before he puts you into the bathrobe he finds hanging on the wall. He tells you to use the bathroom, before he helps you sit on the bed.
You’re definitely gonna be sore tomorrow.
Once you come to your senses again, you see the brightest smile on Jisung’s face.
However, he said that that Minho guy told him the portal will open on its own when you’re authentic enough.
But there's still no portal.
How is getting your brains fucked out not authentic enough?
Well, considering the odds aren’t in your favour and your life will change forever tomorrow, become a disaster you’re caught in without Jisung, the person you love the most, you might as well just tell him the whole truth, right?
You don’t care if he doesn’t love you back.
But he’s been so honest to you about his hidden identity, felt so comfortable to share it—so you should reveal your secret too, right?
There’s never been an actual reason to not be your true self around him.
It’s okay to be different as long as we can be different together with the people we adore the most.
So, without any useless introduction, you just tell him.
“I am in love with you, Han Jisung.”
His eyes widen. Then his mouth falls agape.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Say that again.”
You smirk, “I am in love with you, you weirdo.”
He startles you a little when his lips collide with yours, sealing them in the most heartwarming kiss you’ve ever received.
Then he pulls away.
“I am in love with you too, Y/L/N Y/L.”
A shining light blinds your vision, enlightens the whole room.
There’s a portal next to you. Just appearing there out of nowhere.
You chuckle. It makes sense now.
You’ve never had to prove your love to anyone else.
True love only has to be proven to the person that’s receiving it. Over and over again.
By caring for each other.
By looking out for each other.
By being there for each other in the darkest times.
By trusting each other no matter what.
But most importantly—by showing with words what we feel.
Because when we speak things out loud, that’s when they turn into reality.
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🤍 AUTHOR'S NOTE: thank you so much for reading! I was pretty terrified to upload this since it's a little darker and I have never posted something alien au lmao but it was so much fun writing. I'm very happy I continued this story despite my insecurities. I hope, you enjoyed it too. If that's the case I'd be very grateful for any kind comments and reblogs you leave. Always rember that these are the number one motivation for us authors and likes mean nothing on tumblr considering its algorithm. Thank you for considering it and have a nice day :)
© j-0ne25 2023 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited
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ghoststyles · 3 months
Text
You Should Probably Leave
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This one shot is inspired by You Should Probably Leave by Chris Stapleton! Hope you enjoy.
3.4K. Smut. Fingering, oral sex, vaginal sex, degradation, the works. hehehe.
The feeling of the pair of lips gently ghosting down your collar bone sends you back in time. A simpler time. Two college students madly in love, unsure where their lives would take them. 
You smile gently, drinking in the scene around you; a warm fire lit, a nearly empty bottle of red wine, and a pair of strong hands dancing around your post-baby curves. Throwing your head back, you gasp when he nips and sucks at the soft part of your neck. Pawing at his lap, his hard prick creates a noticeable tent in his pants. 
You had a long day. The baby is teething, your nipples are dry and cracked, and you haven’t had an adult conversation in what feels like weeks. It’s been Miss Rachel and Cocomelon until your ears bleed. You’re not sure if it was the wine, but it’s like you’ve been brought back to life. It helps that your husband, an esteemed surgeon, is on his 3rd 24-hour call shift in a two-week span, giving you plenty of time to occupy yourself.
It started off innocent, your friendship with Harry. Your heart stopped when you realized who moved into the house across the street just 6 months ago. The other moms fawned over the new single bachelor in the neighborhood, not realizing it was Harry. Your Harry. Your college boyfriend who you thought you’d run off into the sunset with and travel the world. 
In an effort to establish that you’re a married woman, you brought a fresh plate of cookies to his door, your husband in tow. Harry’s slightly perplexed and shocked look on his face when he opened the front door that day was quickly wiped away when your husband introduced yourselves to him. 
It wasn’t until a few days later when you got Harry alone. Would he act like he has no idea who you are? Or would it be like a single day hasn’t passed since you left him at your college graduation, not knowing about the ring in his pocket as your parents and grandparents celebrated around you?
You were going on different paths in life, after all. Harry was a risk taker; you, on the other hand, are someone who craves routine and discipline. That’s what you repeat to yourself, trying to convince your brain that he’s not the love of your life. Even 6 years later. 
You approach Harry as he is getting his mail one day. Looking around, making sure the nosy moms weren’t around, or your husband isn’t miraculously home from work. 
“Hi, Sunny,” Harry says, swallowing thickly. 
His words send a punch to your gut. The nickname he called you for over 4 years hits the same, even after all this time. Your husband’s terms of endearment don’t hold a candle to this. 
Hesitantly, you cross the street, your arms crossing over your chest to try and slow your beating heart. 
“Hi, neighbor. How’d that happen?”
“Are you the only one allowed to come back and live in their college town?”
Ice cold. You weren’t prepared for that kind of response. 
“Not at all. Just unexpected, I guess.”
“I think it’s my turn to do something unexpected.”
You nod, pursing your lips in anxiety. You turn to go back in your house, feeling defeated. 
“I don’t have social media. I didn’t know you lived here,” he replies gruffly. “If you want to come over for coffee tomorrow morning, you can. I work from home.”
“Okay,” you reply softly, unsure if this is a real invite. Scurrying into the house, you wipe away a small tear that formed in the corner of your eye. Fucking postpartum emotions. 
Your racing thoughts are brought to an end when Harry snakes his hand over your stomach. He moans at the excess skin and fat, knowing you brought a life into this world. Weekly coffee dates between neighbors turned into wine nights when the baby goes down. All unbeknownst to your husband and neighbors. 
He finally slides his hands in your panties, gently swirling your clit, sending your head back on his shoulder. The stress melts off your body when he inserts his middle finger. 
“Mhm, squeeze me, Sunny. Take what you need,” Harry pants in your ear quietly. The baby monitor rests on the side table next to you. 
High-pitched whines escape your mouth as he massages your g-spot gently. The angle isn’t allowing him to speed up his thrusts. You come, loudly, a few minutes later as Harry sponges more kisses on your neck and temple. 
Shifting to your knees, you simultaneously pull his pants down, his boxers following suit. His prick bobs up, smacking him in the stomach. You nearly keel over, excited to have your mouth on him, as if you haven’t been doing this several nights a week when your husband is at work. 
The ruddy tip is dribbling pre come, the perfect lubricant. Since he knows you’re dirty, you spit on him anyway. Harry lets out a mixture of a sigh and whine, desperate to feel your warm mouth on him. You take the plunge, trying to shove as much of him down as you can. It’s hard, but you manage to slightly swipe your nose on the hair at his base. 
He’s a man now. He was back then, too. But he’s a man now. The slight belly; a contrast from his rock hard abs in college. And his face is aged, but in a good way. His stamina remains unchanged. A few more sucks and pumps of his dick and balls sends him spiraling. Ropes of his come hit the back of your throat. You absolutely keen as he grunts and thrusts one last time.
With a pop, you slide your mouth off, looking at him with hazy eyes. You roll to the side, laying your chin on his meaty thigh, just above his tiger tattoo. 
Harry sighs, knowing what comes next.
I know it ain’t all that late but you should probably leave. And I recognize the look in your eyes, yeah, you should probably leave.
You cover up your bare chest with your sweater, pulling your discarded sleep shorts back on.
“He’ll be home soon, and I want to feed the baby one more time before bed. I hope you understand.”
Harry nods, his face unwilling to let on how much your words hurt. He stands, pulling up his pants and boxers, slipping his sweatshirt overhead. 
Harry understood the first time. And the second. And even the third. But, here you both are, months later, entertaining this completely heinous affair. But, he just can’t fucking let you go.
‘Cause I know you, and you know me. And we both know where this is gonna lead
You excused the lingering; the extra kisses. You’ve even let Harry stay in your bed until the minute your husband pulled into the driveway. It’s gone on too long, and you need to set boundaries. But you can’t fucking let him go.
You want me to say that I want you to stay, so you should probably leave
You know it’s wrong. You’re not naive. It’s not even about hurting your husband. The unmitigated amount of guilt that comes from leading Harry on is more than enough to send you straight to hell. 
It was dumb luck, Harry moving in across the street. He had to hear about your new life through mutual college friends for years as hestruggled in relationship after relationship. You went off and married a future doctor. A sure thing. At graduation, Harry scored a job in tech. Sure, the field was new at the time, but it wasn’t like he was taking a major risk. You got cold feet and fled.
Harry leans down to place one more chaste kiss on your lips before he wordlessly slips out the door toward his own house. You stare out the window after him until a shrill cry rings over the baby monitor, catapulting you into your reality.
And it’s hard to resist, just one kiss, then you should probably leave
~
When Harry knocks on your door around 11PM just two nights after the last encounter with an overnight bag in hand, you’re not sure what to say. The baby went down easier tonight, allowing you to feel more relaxed.
“I talked to him yesterday at the gym. He said he’d be on call at the hospital until tomorrow morning.”
You nod, confirming what he’s saying. Your husband kissed you goodbye after a failed attempt at intimacy this morning. You made up some excuse of feeling off, so he jerked himself in the shower while you laid in fetal position, the guilt eating you alive. 
Harry storms past you, immediately heading to your bedroom. The bedroom you share with your husband. The bedroom just down the hall from your sleeping baby. You sigh, closing the front door gently. 
Harry places his bag on the chair in the corner, taking note of the clothing strewn around the room. He’d hate to leave behind an article of his clothing that would expose their secret. Harry pulls his shirt off by the collar, baring his chest to you. 
It never fails to smack the wind out of you. His toned, tattooed abdomen is illuminated by the lamp in the corner. You place your palms on his pecs, leaning in for a hungry kiss. You can tell he doesn’t want to talk tonight. 
“Strip,” He demands in between kisses.
You meet his gaze, giving your best puppy dog eyes. He doesn’t buy it. You peel off your sleep shirt and shorts, leaving yourself in a pair of white panties.
“Face down, ass up, Sunny.”
A shrill whine escapes your frowning mouth. You put up little protest and situate yourself on the bed. It’s tantalizing, the hold he has on you. The history. The lore. The taboo nature of your relationship. If that’s what you can call it.
You crawl onto the bed, ignoring the framed photo from your wedding day on the bedside table. Harry stands at the foot of the bed, admiring your plump ass, a small wet patch forming in the gusset of the panties. 
Harry lightly palms your ass as you jam your head further into the comforter. He squeezes and pulls at the skin, debating where to start. He starts by rubbing his middle and ring fingers over the wet patch.
Increasing the pressure, he leans over you, his lips tickling the shell of your ear, “I’m gonna eat you out, fuck you, fill you up, and we’re gonna keep these panties on. A little treat for when your husband comes home.”
Fuck. 
“Harry, fuck,” you stutter.
He’s now face to face with your backside. You feel one lewd, long, lick up your folds - through your underwear. It’s so, so good. In between licks, you hear him speak again.
“You know what I can’t figure out?” He asks, almost laughing to himself.
You dare not to respond, instead focus on his assault to your pussy. His grip on your thighs is that of the jaws of life, destined to leave marks.
“I’ve been fucking tearing this pussy up for,” he trails off. “Months, now? And your dumb fuck husband still has no idea? Not a clue about our history? How you were mine first? Does he even pay a crumb of attention to you?”
You cry out after a big swipe, the tickling feeling of the damp fabric on your pussy lips driving you wild. You’re holding back big, fat crocodile tears. You’re in this situation because you want to have your cake and eat it, too. 
“Tell me, Sunny. Does he fuck you with the lights off? Or a quickie in the shower? If he’s the love of your life, then why do you have to get attention from me? Hm?”
Fisting the comforter, the tears are now falling rapidly. You choke out a sob and clench your pussy around nothing. 
Again, you don’t answer his questions. Instead, he picks up the pace of his licks, focusing directly on your clit. He knows the left side is more sensitive than the right, so his tongue stays swirling in that direction. 
You come, quickly and loudly, smacking your hand against the bed. Harry chuckles to himself bitterly. Your head is still spinning, but you feel Harry peel back the gusset of the panties and slide the tip of his cock through the folds. 
He still has his pants on, but the buttons are popped open and his cock is sticking out over the band of his underwear. The edge of the lacy fabric touching the sensitive head makes him grunt out a moan. 
“Always so fucking needy. You need me, don’t you, Sunny? Tell me,” he mocks.
“I need you, Harry,” you whimper, your body ready to collapse to the bed. 
“Mm-mm. Tell me who you need right now, Sunny.”
“You, Daddy. I need you,” your wobbly lip makes you sound pathetic. 
He plunges in at your words, both of you gasping at the same time. You’re made for one another; You’re the lock and he’s the key. Even on the best nights with your husband, he gives you a mediocre performance at best. Your thrusts are never timed, and he refuses to talk dirty in your ear. 
“That’s right, Sunny. Good girl,” he mocks you again, his thrusts sending shockwaves throughout your body. You can feel his thumb trace around the edge of your asshole, making you mewl.
Harry leans over you, enveloping his body over yours. His lips ghost your ear again. The tone of his voice is low and sultry.
“Y’know what I think, Sunny girl?” he asks, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. “I bet you wish that sweet little baby in the other room was mine. Bet you wish it was me you walked down the aisle to.”
You gasp, heart stopping at the mention of your baby. Up until this point, you’ve been able to compartmentalize this part of your life. You start to protest, but he slips his right hand around your throat, squeezing gently. 
“Hm? Based on the way you’re squeezing me, I think I’m right,” the smug tone of voice is glaringly obvious. “Think of the life we could’ve had, Sunny. I think about it every day of my fucking life. Would’ve given you the world.”
Like a devil on my shoulder you keep whisperin’ in my ear. And it’s gettin’ kinda hard for me to do the right thing here. I wanna do the right thing, baby
“I know,” you finally choke out. Your conversations during your romps remain light, usually. But, tonight. Tonight feels different. His grip on your throat tightens as you feel him start to slow his thrusts. "Fuck, Harry. I know."
“Thought I’d hit the lottery when you and your husband knocked on my door that day. Thought I’d been given a second chance. Finally have you forever.” 
He’s fully panting at this point, and you’re unsure how he’s even talking. You clench around him, making him moan again. He kisses your neck, sweat freely dripping all over both of you. Instead of burying deep in you, he pulls out slightly as he comes, coating the inside and outside of your pussy, and dripping into the panties. 
It’s lewd, and disgusting. But, it’s everything. 
Harry’s lifts his body from his place on top of you, the slight breeze his shifting caused making you shiver. Harry moves to a half standing position to grab his phone off the bedside table. He snaps a quick photo of the scene in front of him.
You look ethereal. Your perfect, plump ass is complimented by the underwear now doused in his scent and spunk. The contrast of the dry and wet parts of the panties has him wanting to jerk off again. 
Reluctantly, he pulls out, and uses his thumb to snap the fabric back in place. He doubts your husband will even give you the time of day once he’s home. But, it’d be an epic way for your secret to be exposed. 
It’s nearing 1AM, so Harry stands to go into your ensuite to fetch a towel. Now, you’ve fully collapsed into the bed. He gently wipes just enough cum from around your pussy and thighs. He leaves a majority of it for the treasure hunt.
You finally build up the strength and courage to pick up a discarded T-shirt on the floor. At the same time, he’s putting on a fresh pair of boxers from his bag. You can’t bring yourself to meet his eye as you start reeling over the degrading words that came out of his mouth. You have every right to be disgusted by him, but you can’t bring yourself to be. Because he’s not wrong. 
You’d made a mistake. You knew about 6 months into your marriage. You loved your husband. Or maybe the idea of him. You met him when he was 2 years into his surgical residency. The perks and the bragging rights of dating a doctor got to your head. Every date, every argument and every moment of adversity had you wondering what it’d have been like with Harry. 
Life with Harry was easy. You got the best of both worlds; a hot boyfriend and a fun social life. But, when your sister introduced you to a man with a full 8-year plan carved out, you chose the safe option. What a fuck-up that was. 
Harry climbs into the bed next to you, still not saying a word. That’s the thing. With Harry, you don’t have to. Your energies and emotions just work. He gently pulls you down so you’re laying horizontally on your side, and he slots his legs between yours, nuzzling his face in your neck. 
In this moment, everything feels right. 
~
Harry didn’t sleep much. He tried. But, something deep inside him was gnawing at his soul. His eyes were closed the whole night, but he never quite crossed the threshold into sleep. 
He still had all his five senses; the sliver of light from the lamppost outside; the slight white noise coming from the radiator; the smell of your shampoo mixed with the lewd activities of tonight; the feel of your hot skin touching his; and finally, the residual taste of your pussy on his tongue. 
The sun is rising now, signaling the end of your time together.
The sliver of light on your frame has his heart bursting with adoration. It’s true, what he’d said before. He does think about what your future would’ve been like. Your long eyelashes cast shadows on your slightly cherub cheeks. You would’ve made beautiful children. Gone on memorable family trips. And at the end of the day, fucking love each other.
Sun on your skin, 6AM and I been watchin’ you sleep. And honey, I’m so afraid you’re gonna wake up and say that you should probably leave. 
A year ago, Harry thought you’d leave your husband by now. But, as time goes on, his odds of getting you back are getting less and less. His heart is breaking all over again. 
You feel him stir, so you turn over and smile at him. You run your hands up and down his bare chest, feeling every prickly hair. He smiles back at you, not saying a word.
You finally pipe up, a clear, sad tone, “Y’know how much I hate saying this.”
“I should probably leave.”
You nod sadly, placing a kiss on his chest. It’s honestly a miracle the baby hasn’t woken up yet. Harry kisses you, his thumb grabbing your chin. It lasts a few minutes until you pull away. Your husband is due home in less than 45 minutes.
I want you to stay, but you’ll probably say that you should probably leave.
You should probably leave. 
Harry rises to sit at the side of the bed, grabbing his phone. 6:12 AM. You think he’s fiddling with his phone to prolong his stay. His bag is already packed by the door. You smile to yourself, happy to have your lover by your side. He places one last kiss on your forehead.
Before Harry stands, he sends off an email to his realtor, confirming the sale of his house. $15,000 over asking price. It was a private showing, with an agreement that Harry would be out of the house in two weeks. 
He already purchased a home — Approximately 1,326 miles away from this one. Everything is set. His mind is made up.
Harry stands, grabbing his bag. He takes one last look at you as he stands in the doorframe, an unreadable look on his face.
“Bye, Sunny girl.”
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writeyouin · 1 month
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Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 5
Chapter 5 - Stories and Dolls
A/N – Okay, so I just quit my job and I’m freefalling right now. Time to channel my anxiety into fanfiction. Also, this chapter is darker so I’m raising the rating to M.
Warnings – MENTIONS OF RAPE, S/A, ABUSE, KIDNAPPING, AND TORTURE.
Rating – M
TAG-LIST: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch @reverse-soe @koirb @usernameunavailable2 @lavenderkita @kannakanan @mcueveryday @amarokofficial @mbruben-stein @tyrythewolf @lasagna-501 @bizzardvark @firefirefeline @kaylanotkk @missme-07 @memontica @angelsdemonsmonsters @tj4shy
MALE VERSION HERE
GN VERSION HERE
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Lucifer had to admit, he was getting used to you. He enjoyed making breakfast a show in the morning, entertaining you with his parlour tricks and general showmanship. You were like a child, easily amused by flashing lights or some sleight of hand.
And of a night, he also found your company less than objectionable, whether you were reading a book in the library with Spick and Span curled up at your feet, in front of a roaring fire (you had conjured them medallions with their names on them, so as to tell them apart), or those nights when you came back from visiting the hotel and regaled him with the tales of its inhabitants. Lucifer was starting to like Angel Dust, even if he didn’t believe the porn star actually had a chance at redemption. Nifty also seemed entertaining, Husk could be a source of wisdom and comfort in equal measure, and Alastair… Well, he was there too, taking up too much of your attention.
Yet, despite his newfound almost-friendship with you, he couldn’t help thinking about what you had said on your first night in the manor.
‘You don’t even know why I’m down here, and you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same.’
You were right. He didn’t know why you were there, and that was driving him crazy. He wanted to like you. Truly, he did. But how could he like you when he didn’t know your sin? People got sent to Hell for a reason! They wasted their free will. They sold drugs to kids, murdered people, trafficked victims, tricked and swindled others. For all Lucifer knew, you were there for drowning puppies.
The thought made him deeply uncomfortable.
Okay. He would ask you about it. No big deal. People probably talked about why they went to Hell a lot right? That was a normal conversation for Sinners, probably…
Lucifer wasn’t entirely wrong in thinking that. However, nearly all Sinners lied about what they went to Hell for, making it even more brutal or horrifying to try and earn some extra credit among their fellow Demons. Someone who had killed one person would claim to have been a serial killer. A low-life drug dealer would paint themselves as a mafioso with a drug empire, and arsonists… They didn’t have to lie much, as fires tended to spread quickly and they generally were as psychotic as they claimed to be.
It was all basic self-preservation in Hell. Be the toughest person there, so nobody could find new ways to hurt you. Kill or be killed (figuratively, since Demons couldn’t technically kill other Demons), sink or swim, do unto others before they did unto you.
Right. When Lucifer next saw you, he would ask.
“Hey Lucifer,” You said upon returning to the manor from the Hotel, “You doing okay?”
Lucifer froze. He hadn’t expected to see you so soon. Fuck.
“Hey bitch,” Lucifer greeted, feeling entirely awkward, yet trying to feign confidence.
“Uh… Back at ya,” You reciprocated confusedly.
“Sooooo,” Lucifer started, steepling his fingers together, and holding them to his mouth, his brow knitting together worriedly, “I have a question for you.”
“Oh.” You were surprised by Lucifer’s admission. While the two of you generally made conversation, he didn’t tend to ask too much. Besides, in the preface of announcing his question, it seemed that he was likely to ask you something personal.
You waved your hand casually, indicating that he was free to ask away.
“How- Uh how was everything at the Hotel? Is my little girl doing okay?”
As you smiled and fell into a description of how Charlie was doing and her general excitement about her meeting with Heaven, Lucifer cursed himself. He knew that what he wanted to ask was important, but it was just so personal. Well, at least he was happy to hear about his daughter. There were also some other colourful stories included in your conversation.
Finally, you wrapped up the conversation, effectively ending it when you casually said, “Anyway, I’m going to get ready for bed. I’m real tired, you know?”
Lucifer didn’t say much as you left, he was still pondering whether you might be a puppy killer or relative and accomplice to that Jeffrey Dahmer fellow, or something equally disturbing. If not… Why were you there?
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Having gotten ready for bed, you sighed, letting the day’s events wash over you, lifting a weight off your shoulders. You were tired, but the day had been a good productive one. Moreover, it was nice to end the day by standing out on the balcony, overlooking the rest of Hell.
There was a time when you had died, during which you stood atop a building in the main streets watching all the fights, looting, and maiming, and you were horrified. Then, you met Charlie, and she had been so wonderfully pure, good, and non-judgemental that you had to agree with her. Hell could be a home to you, and all the other Sinners who lived there, and Sinners could always change for the better.
While you held onto the balcony railing, leaning over it, and staring at the red horizon, Lucifer approached your open door at the entrance of your room, knocking despite the open invitation to come in.
You turned and smiled at him, your smile putting him at ease.
“Come in,” You offered.
He did so, crossing the large room and taking quick mental notes of the changes you had made. They were minor, but they spoke of your personality. You had lit scented candles, brightening the room – the official scent name was Tapioca Tit-play.
Subconsciously, Lucifer worked his magic to remove the off-smell that he had placed there; it was redundant when your candles covered it, and he didn’t mind your company so much anymore.
He also observed several other items. There was a photograph of everyone at the Hotel, though you had drawn Alastor on the end in crayon since he didn’t love to be captured in photographs (he could bear it unlike being filmed, but he didn’t care much for it.)
Wrapped around your bedposts were nightlights to keep out the dark. On your bed, you had a teddy of one of Sir Pentious’ egg-bois, a gift from him. Husk had gifted you with a bottle of his best Whiskey, though it remained unopened on the nightstand. There was a cockroach/daisy hybrid necklace wrapped around a book. The candles were from Angel Dust. Beneath your pillow was a dagger, gifted by Vaggie, for your protection. Alastor had given you a collection of books from the store in Cannibal Town, including several that were rumoured to have been stolen from Heaven’s library, though nobody was certain where that rumour started or if it was even true, though there were no copies of the books anywhere else in Hell.
Although Lucifer had no way of knowing these items were all presents from your friends at the Hazbin Hotel, he could tell that you cared deeply for the odd assortment by their placement on the two bedside tables; they had been positioned with care, and were well looked after.
Then, his eye caught the rubber duck, slightly hidden behind the picture frame. He remembered making that one. As a hellhound imitation, it was meant to teleport to whoever needed it most inside the Manor, offering protection should they come under attack. Naturally, he and his family didn’t need such protection, but he had been experimenting with what powers he might imbue unto yet another duck.
He decided not to mention it as he joined you on the balcony, looking you over in your pyjamas.
You also spared him a glance, noting that he seemed more relaxed. Although he was still in his usual attire, he had removed his top-hat-crown and his overcoat, revealing the waistcoat and shirt beneath; the sleeves were rolled up, giving him a more casual appearance.
“Hell’s skies are beautiful, aren’t they,” You stated, returning your gaze to the horizon.
Lucifer looked up, but all he saw was Heaven, the home that didn’t want him.
“(Y/N),” He started, forcing himself to look down, so he wouldn’t have to stare at the painfully beautiful golden glow above.
“Hm?”
“How did you end up here?”
Your grip tightened on the railing drawing Lucifer’s gaze to the whites of your knuckles.
Your whole body became tense and you answered with a ragged breath, “I died.”
“Yes but-” Lucifer was about to lead into the question of your sins, but you spoke up again, seemingly misunderstanding the question as you continued, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.
“I was- I was murdered.”
Lucifer could have explained that the cause of your death wasn’t what he had been driving at, but now he was darkly fascinated. If you were the same kind-hearted, warm person in life, why would anyone wish to bring about your death?
He remained silent as you began recounting the manner in which you had been killed.
“I had a friend,” You started slowly, taking steady breaths between each part of the story that followed as if it would make it any easier. “I mean- I- I thought he was my friend. I loved him. He knew that. He counted on it.”
“I thought that he travelled for work. That’s what he told me. It’s why he was always coming and going. But no… He was just looking for more people like me. He found people. Made us fall for him. Then he- he took me out on a date. Blindfolded me. Said it was a surprise. I- I trusted him, but the blindfold just made it easier for him to- He knocked me out.”
You subconsciously touched the back of your head, remembering the blow that had come with no warning.
Lucifer turned to you, one hand holding onto the railing, the other planted firmly at his side.
“Did he-” He started to ask.
You shook your head. “It wasn’t rape. It was worse.”
You shivered, waiting until you were certain you weren’t going to vomit. Then you continued, your skin ashy.
“I woke up in a- It was like a cinderblock cell, but it had been sort of decorated to look like a fancy suite?”
You recalled the room. It was damp, and the floor was cheaply produced concrete, given away by the amount of air bubbles which had never been levelled and now pocked the surface, like a teenager with bad acne. The cinderblock walls were easy to see, though some talented artist had been paid to paint it with the likeness of the Ritz hotel or somewhere equally fancy. While that had made it look better, it was still clearly a cinderblock wall; then again, you can’t polish a turd, but you can roll it in glitter.
You had been handcuffed to a chair in the centre of the room. Your clothes had been taken, and you had been dressed in a skimpy shortened tuxedo, with a fitted vest instead of a jacket. You remembered screaming till your voice was raw. You screamed so much that you ended up spitting flecks of blood, but nobody came to save you.
“I- I was tied up,” You said simply, downplaying the memory to Lucifer, more for your own sake than his, though he could see the pain behind your eyes.  
Lucifer didn’t interrupt your story, but his anger was growing. Behind him his tail lashed furiously, his eyes became flaming red, and his fangs became sharper. You hadn’t noticed, you were lost in memory, and you had yet to look his way since beginning your story.
You sighed, thinking of the torture, humiliation, and suffering which followed, all at the hands of one man. It wasn’t your captor. It was who he had sold you to.
“It- I was- They were making snuff films. I don’t know how many people died there before or after me but- I was sold to an American. He- He liked to cut things. It was a while before- I don’t know if I bled out, or if my heart stopped, maybe both?”
For the first time, your skin changed colour, turning from your regular human shade to a pale seaweed-green. Against the colourful backdrop, Lucifer could see your now blinding white glowing scars. Upon your death they remained hidden, completely invisible, but now you were distressed… You seemingly did have something of a Demonic appearance after all.
You were a ragdoll.
There wasn’t a part of your body that hadn’t been cut, or originally sliced off, only to be repaired in death. In all likelihood, your real body was probably burned, buried, or dissolved in acid. In Hell, your scars were the stitches that held your body together. Lucifer now understood your human appearance since like a real ragdoll, you were good at playing dress-up. He bet that if you explored your abilities, you would have been able to look like anyone, a skin-changer, but you had adopted your appearance in life; it was likely an accident caused by the trauma of your memories.
“(Y/N),” Lucifer said through gritted teeth. He wanted to be comforting, but he was already thinking of all the ways he would punish your killer and any accomplice he may have had. There were worse things than Death in hell; he would torture those bastards for eternity, and then when he finally grew bored, he would end them with angelic weaponry, wiping their souls from existence, leaving no trace of such monsters.
You didn’t turn to face your King, who was now in his full Demonic form, his rage at its peak.
“Just go,” You murmured despondently, staring over the balcony, and down to the ground. A long drop and a short stop… It was a shame it wouldn’t kill you; at least the pain would end if you died.
“But-” Lucifer reached you to put a hand on your shoulder, his wings almost curling around you as if to envelop you.
“I- I would like to be alone. Please.”
Lucifer hesitantly withdrew his hand, “I’m sorry.”
That was all he said before walking away, leaving you alone.
You wished that you could have been left to wallow, but your phone soon buzzed and you opted to check it in case it was an emergency.
Retrieving it from the bed, you found a message from Charlie.
“EMERGENCY. ANGEL DUST. RELAPSE. GET OVER HERE. PLEASE!”
Damn it! If Charlie was texting you for this, it meant that Husk was either the cause or he wasn’t around to be the solution. Moreover, while Charlie would want to assist her friend, she was likely the last person Angel Dust wanted to see; sometimes, though she was well-intentioned, she just didn’t understand such issues or she could be a bit much.
Still stuck in your ragdoll body, you ran back to the balcony and vaulted over the edge. It wasn’t a smooth landing, and it hurt a lot. Anyone else would have broken their bones, but when you were like this, there wasn’t anything else that could be broken. Everything had already been torn off you. Ignoring the pain, you ran until you found a taxi. You took it to the Hotel.
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gyeomsweetgyeom · 1 month
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⋆⭒˚.⋆ your biggest fan ⋆⭒˚.⋆
idol!jaehyun x popstar!reader
summary: in which the world discovers your relationship with Jaehyun and surprisingly… they love it
(cw: f!reader, descriptions of sasaengs and receiving hate)
a/n: bonus ig posts at the end
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
You weren't exactly sure how you and Jaehyun became a couple, that was his area of expertise, not yours. All you remembered was meeting him in 2019 at the iHeartRadio Jingle Ball and from there a relationship blossomed at some point.
It was hard on the both of you, you were both so busy. He was busy pumping out music every year, always working. If he wasn't touring, he was recording, promoting, learning a new dance, or working on the next step. The life of a Kpop idol was vastly different from the fame you knew as a western artist. You had breaks between albums, a few singles here and there, but your tours lasted so much longer.
It was a reality you were used to though. You came into the limelight as a teenager, building a deeply dedicated fan base that grew in size and grew up with you. A fanbase that grew from your hometown to spanning various continents. Your success and fame had grown far beyond what you had ever imagined when you first signed on to create your first record. This life was everything you dreamed of and more, even if the reality was less... perfect than you thought it would be.
Having been in this industry for as long as you had been, a romantic relationship wasn't at the forefront of your list. There were a few here and there, kept under wraps, but they could never understand the demands of your job. When Jaehyun came in, he turned your world upside down. He was a breath of fresh air and inspired you more than anyone ever had.
It had been 3 years of dating now. You were head over heels in love and so was he. The time differences, the constant missed calls, and dates in the cover of darkness hadn't diminished any of the love you had for each other.
These past few weeks had been lucky, you were in your Asian leg of your tour and Jaehyun had been able to join you for the last week of your tour which was starting with a few nights in Seoul and ending in Japan. It was the night before your concert, definitely past midnight, but you and Jaehyun were hungry. You were both dressed "in disguise" with masks on, hats covering your heads, and baggier clothes.
It really was a mistake on both your ends to think that there would be no one watching. Sure, the traditional paparazzi wasn't really a thing here, but there were other people with cameras. People who were too dedicated and a... different kind of fan that you and Jaehyun were unfortunately familiar with. These people knew where you were staying and would take any opportunity to catch a picture. And that’s what happened.
You both entered a convenience store and you pulled off your hat to fix your hair which left your face more visible to the cameras taking pictures. A few minutes later Jaehyun lowered his mask to take a drink from his cup and from there your relationship was revealed and spiraled out of control.
Fans were making connections, some far reaching and others that were legitimate. In your short, 20 minute trip down the block both you and Jaehyun were trending. You didn’t even know it was all happening until the morning after when your assistant walked into your hotel room with her phone in her hand that was quickly pushed in front of your face.
You scrolled through hundreds of tweets, replies, quote tweets, various hashtags.
Your voice was tired and deep from sleep, “what is happening?”
“Fans caught you two in the convenience store last night and uploaded the picture. Jaehyun our team have been in touch with your management and we’ve agreed to each put out a statement confirming the relationship. I know this isn’t what either of you had planned, but you were lucky for a good few years,” your assistant explained with a soft smile.
Jaehyun turned to you with a nervous expression, “I’m sorry this happened. Just ignore all the negative comments and focus on the good, okay? I love you and this won’t change anything.”
“I’m sorry, but there’s no negatives. Well sure, haters are everywhere but 99% of the posts, comments, reactions, everything really- is positive. You’re both international stars with very dedicated fan bases that have some intersection. Seriously, look for yourself,” your assistant hands her phone to Jaehyun. “People want duets, joint tours, they want interviews together. Seriously, it’s crazy!”
You laugh I shock, looking over Jaehyun’s shoulder to read all the feedback and comments from your fans.
“We have to improve your Korean, baby. They want you to collaborate with NCT,” Jaehyun laughs.
“You told me my Korean was good!” You exclaim with a soft hit to his arm.
“It is! But we can practice more for a whole album full of duets,” he replies with a soft laugh.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” you laugh in reply.
That night at your concert, the arena full of fans erupts in cheers so loud you can hear it through your ear pieces when Jaehyun is shown on the screen. “My boyfriend is here tonight! And we can all thank him for my amazing Korean! Before we start the next song, which is about him, how do we all feel about an extra show here?”
The screams get even louder and you look at Jaehyun with a bright smile. He sends you a finger heart and you send a kiss right back in his direction. This was everything you’d dreamt of.
+ BONUS
yourusername
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yoursusername in case you somehow managed to miss the news, here’s the confirmation! my inspiration, my muse, my biggest fan, my love, nobody gets me like you do. I’m so lucky to live this life with someone who gets me better than anyone else. i love you foreverrrrrr
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_jeongjaehyun
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_jeongjaehyun Sometimes I still can’t believe it myself. I’ve learned so much from you and continue to learn something new everyday. I’m my best self around you. I love you baby, I’m your biggest fan
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metalhoops · 1 year
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The Five Times Eddie Wondered Who His Soulmate Was  and the One Time He Didn’t Have To
1. 
The worst thing about knowing your soulmate was in trouble was understanding there was nothing you could do about it. 
As a whole, Eddie thought the concept of soulmates was bullshit. He thought all that fate and destiny crap was a scam to sell the idea of monogamy or co-dependence. If people were too busy fretting over when they’d meet ‘their person’, they’d forget that actual shit was going on in the world. Who had the time to care about systemic oppression when they were busy trying to work out if the cute girl across the corridor was their one true love? 
That being said, sometimes Eddie got curious about who they were. Not many people found their soulmates. It wasn’t as obvious as you’d think. When they were in pain, you would feel it. Two people could live across the world from one another, feeling each scraped knee and broken wrist but never meet. Hell, you could live across the street from someone and unless you were there to watch them get hurt and feel the same old pang of shared pain, you’d never know. 
It wasn’t like Eddie had never felt his soulmate before that day. They’d twisted an ankle when Eddie was twelve and sprained a wrist when he was fourteen, but he’d felt no pain from them so strong as when he was sitting in detention during his junior year. 
He was counting down the minutes left until he could get out of the high school, hell hole when a sharp and sudden pain flooded his jaw. He gritted his teeth and cradled it with his palm, feeling as though the wind was knocked out of his body. Eddie knew what being punched in the face felt like, and that was it. Just when the ache started to fade, another thud of pain to his cheek made his vision swim. From there, Eddie held his breath, waiting for the pain to end. He rested his head on his desk and felt his heart in his throat as the blows kept coming. 
He missed Mrs Click telling him to go home, too busy gripping the desk for dear life, his fingernails digging into the poorly carved desk graffiti, slicing a line through ‘RB 4 TT.’ He was elated when the pain finally stopped. 
Eddie kept his head down the whole walk home, trying to tell himself soulmates were bullshit, and that he didn’t care about his, but his thoughts kept returning to visions of them. He hoped they were okay. 
Eddie never wanted to know who his soulmate was until that moment. They’d had a hell of a day and Eddie wanted to be there with them, tell them he knew what it was like. He wanted to hold their head in his lap and tell them everything was going to be okay, that if it were up to him, no one would hurt them like that again, but he couldn’t. For all he knew, they could be a hundred miles away. 
2.
The next time it happened, Eddie was at home alone in the trailer. Uncle Wayne was working a night shift, and he was watching a horror movie marathon on the T.V. It was shaping up to be a good night, with him curled up on the couch watching a schlocky creature feature when he felt all the air knocked out of his lungs. 
For a moment, he was worried something horrible was happening to him. When Jeff had appendicitis, he’d reported the same kind of pain. Eddie rolled up the hem of his shirt, watching a black-blue bruise bloom and fade in the span of a second. Sometimes, if the pain was great enough, you’d get what they called an ‘echo’ of the injury. It only lasted a moment, invisible ink fading on pale paper. 
The pain had been so strong that Eddie hadn’t been able to tell if it was theirs or his. From there, it got worse. He felt a sharp pang crash over his head, then another series of blows to the face. It was always the goddamn face.
When it was over, Eddie was left feeling lightheaded. The sensation faded quickly, but he knew his other half would be stuck with the ache for the rest of the night, if not longer. 
There was a lot of conjecture when it came to soulmates. It was hard to conduct scientific studies on something based entirely on sensation, and any research that had been done was less than ethical. All the same, for the rest of the night, Eddie curled his arms around himself, holding his body in the hopes his person could feel it, that he could give them some comfort. 
“I hope you’re okay,” he whispered, burrowing his face into the crook of his elbow. 
Back at school, Eddie floated through the halls feeling less than himself as thoughts of his person swirled. The school was abuzz with rumours of a fight between Billy Hargrove and the former king of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington. Eddie couldn’t care less about some pissing contest for the highest rung on the social ladder, as he still felt the echoed ache of his soulmate’s pain throughout the day. 
He ditched gym, opting to hide beneath the bleachers and smoke. To his surprise, he wasn’t the only one with the idea. When he arrived, he found the overthrown king sitting cross-legged, cradling his still-bruised jaw. Eddie wasn’t a fan of the jocks, but they were the biggest contributor to his wallet, so he tried to play civil with them. Plus, Eddie wasn’t one to kick someone when they were down, and boy was Steve down. He sat beside the man, examined his face, and thought for a fleeting second. Maybe he was the one, but that was crazy talk. The Freak and the King. In what world? 
“You look like you’ve had better days,” Eddie noted. 
“I’ve had worse,” Steve replied. Eddie had a pit in his stomach. 
The two lapsed into silence, hiding out until the bell sounded for the end of gym. Eddie gave the boy a half-hearted salute as he stood.
“Hey, Steve?” Eddie spoke before he left.
“You okay?”
Steve gave Eddie the ghost of a smile, all charm drowned out by Steve’s two black eyes. 
“I will be.” 
3.
Eddie had been worried about his soulmate before, but he’d never thought he’d lose them until the summer vacation after his failed attempt at senior year. He and the rest of Corroded Coffin had just finished their set at The Hideout. Eddie and the boys were carrying their instruments back to the van when the feeling hit. 
He fell to the asphalt. The whole scene sounded all the more dramatic as the hi-hat he’d been holding fell with him. He really wished his soulmate would learn to keep their head down and stay out of trouble because this was getting ridiculous. He got ready to hunker down and wait it out, having gotten morbidly used to their annual beatings. Only this time the pain didn’t stop. 
He was hit with wave after wave of agony. This time, it wasn’t just the face. He felt blows to his jaw, his stomach, and his side. He also felt a sharp spike of pain in his hand, as though someone was trying to peel his nails from his skin.
He could hear his friends around him, desperately trying to get something coherent out of Eddie, trying to work out if it was soulmate bullshit or if the guy was having an aneurysm. By the way he was acting, either seemed possible. When the pain subsided, Eddie felt foggy, like he was going through the worst goddamn high of his life. The neon signs of The Hideout and the street lamps danced before his eyes. Hundreds of little halos clouded his vision. He couldn’t think straight. 
He managed to prop himself up against the wheel of the van and pulled his knees to his chest. He knotted his hands in his long hair and tugged, trying to remind himself what his own pain felt like, though stopped when he realised he’d also be hurting them. That was the last thing they needed. 
“You okay?” He heard Gareth ask when the world came swimming back into focus. Eddie shook his head. Far from it.  
“Are they okay? Are they... alive?” Eddie hadn’t let himself entertain that idea until it was brought up. 
He felt the last flush of colour drain from his face. He could still feel them, but there was something wrong with the connection. Maybe he was dying. Eddie couldn’t help but think of his soulmate as ‘he’. He just knew. 
Eddie kept trying to tell himself he didn’t care about them, but the fact that he could die without Eddie ever having met him made his heart ache. People thought the reason you felt your person’s pain was to protect them, to know when something was wrong. Eddie had done a bang-up job at that. 
“For now, but it’s weird. I don’t... I don’t know how much longer-,” Eddie didn’t let himself finish. 
The rest of the band suddenly took on a sombre mood. Jeff and Grant finished packing up the van while Gareth offered to drive. The boys stayed at Eddie’s trailer for the rest of the night, holding their breaths and waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
Eventually, Eddie dropped off to sleep and when he awoke hours later, he was relieved to realise he hurt all over. He was still alive, still waiting for Eddie to find him and god did Eddie want to. 
His uncle came home at the crack of dawn and let out an elongated sigh of relief at seeing Eddie and his band of merry men curled up together on the living room carpet. Wayne greeted Eddie with a tight hug that still hurt like hell.
“I was worried something happened to you,” His uncle stated in his gravelled tone.
“Why would something have happened to me?” Eddie asked, perplexed. 
“The mall burnt down last night. I was worried you were close by.” 
Eddie shook his head and let his uncle hold him as his mind ticked away. He wondered if it was possible his soulmate was in Hawkins. Eddie wasn’t sure he believed in coincidence.   
4.
Eddie started seeing spots during his lunchtime speech. By the end of his rant, the room had started to tilt. He felt unsure on his feet as he clambered from the top of the jock table to scamper back to the hellfire group. He must look worse for wear because he noticed one of his new recruits watching him.
“Eddie, you good?” Dustin questioned, sounding further away than he should. The lights in the cafeteria were too bright and his head was killing him. 
He felt close to throwing up and wondered where the pain had come from before realising the familiar distance from the sensation. It wasn’t his pain. Eddie didn’t want Henderson to butt into his love life any more than he already did, so he gave the kid a tight-lipped smile that more closely resembled a grimace. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt this sensation from his soulmate, but they were growing more frequent.  
Again, sweetheart? Eddie thought, knowing it was the second migraine that week. 
“Migraine,” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth. He could feel his band members' eyes on him. They knew exactly who the ache belonged to. 
To Eddie’s surprise, Dustin passed him a cool glass of water and barked orders at Mike, getting the kid to remove the ugly Hawaiian over shirt, before throwing it over Eddie’s head, blocking out the light. It wasn’t Eddie’s pain, so it didn’t help but he could appreciate the sentiment. 
“Did they teach you first aid at science camp, Henderson?” Eddie guessed offhandedly. 
“Nah. Steve gets migraines all the time. Helps to know how to deal with them.”
Eddie would never understand how a kid like Dustin came to know Steve Harrington, let alone worship the ground the guy walked on. Usually, Dustin had such good taste.  
“Eddie’s soulmate gets them too,” Gareth spoke unhelpfully. 
Even without looking, Eddie knew he was shooting him a shit-eating grin, knowing the rest of the afternoon Henderson would ask him about his soulmate. Just because the kid found Suzie, he thought the whole world deserved to find their one true love. Instead, Dustin came out with the most bullshit statement Eddie had ever heard. 
“Maybe Steve’s your soulmate.” 
Yeah, right. On what planet would that happen? 
5.
With everything that had happened to Eddie in the past few days, he hadn’t had time to think about his soulmate. He’d watched Chrissy die before his eyes, learnt the existence of another dimension and was walking through said dimension after witnessing Steve Harrington take a bite out of a demon bat’s tail. It’d been a weird ass day.  
He wished he’d been like Robin and Nancy, able to jump in and rescue Steve on a whim, but as Steve disappeared beneath the black water of Lover’s Lake, he’d felt his throat close and his lungs ache for air. It wasn’t a good time for a panic attack. Nevertheless, he’d managed to get his ass in gear and follow the rest of the group down into Watergate. 
He’d dropped back to walk with Steve and found himself complimenting the man. Steve was nothing like he imagined. He was not only kind, but as Dustin had put it, a total badass. 
Once the adrenaline faded, Eddie found himself lifting the hem of his shirt, examining his side. He felt a dull throb of pain. It’d be his luck to bleed out without noticing, but he found there was nothing there. 
“You good?” Steve asked.
Eddie couldn’t help but let his gaze settle on Steve’s bleeding side. He held his breath. He thought about pushing his hand against Steve’s wound, hurting him more just to check, but Eddie couldn’t hurt Steve. Not now. Especially if he was who Eddie thought he might be. 
“Yeah, I’m fine. You okay?” Eddie asked, gesturing to Steve’s side. The boy nodded.
“I’m fine, just a scratch. Can hardly feel a thing.” 
If Steve was his soulmate, he was full of shit. If Steve was his soulmate when everything blew over, they had a few things to talk about.
+1
Something was very wrong. Vecna was going down in a blaze of flame when Steve’s body started to ache. He felt the familiar sting of interdimensional bat fangs digging into dermis flesh. Robin and Nancy were cheering, wrapping their arms around Steve, whooping, hollering and panting while Steve was busy feeling like he was being torn apart. 
He was pulling away from the girls and turning on his heels before he had the chance to explain, running from the Creel House to the trailer park as fast as his feet could carry him. There was only one person this pain could belong to. 
Steve had spent his whole life searching for his soulmate, desperate to know who they were, and he’d been under his nose the whole time. The fact that Steve’s soulmate was a boy hadn’t surprised him as much as it should. That’d been a crisis bubbling away in the background of his brain since he’d gone to his first swim meet. He’d seen a boy in tight swim trunks, with tan skin and felt the familiar heart-pounding, crush he’d experienced on pretty girls he’d passed in the school hallways. 
By the time he got to Eddie, he’d hardly been able to fight through the pain surging through their connection. Dustin was wailing, holding Eddie in the wake of a bat graveyard. He looked up in alarm at Steve’s figure, noticing his pale skin and sweat-slicked brow. 
“Harrington?” Eddie’s weak voice came from Dustin’s lap. 
Steve was busy removing his clothes, trying to stop the bleeding. Dustin didn’t need to show him where the man was hurt, he could feel it. 
“I really must have got some brownie points in the end,” Eddie murmured. 
Both boys hissed as Steve shoved his shirt into a wound at Eddie’s side. That was when Dustin appeared to catch on, his eyes swelling wide as they darted between the two boys. 
“What’re you talking about, Munson?” Steve asked, trying to keep the guy talking. 
“Must’ve got into heaven after all,” He hummed, his deep brown eyes gazing beyond Steve at the distant red sky. 
“Hey. No. None of that. You aren’t in heaven because you’re not dying,” Steve hissed, using what little strength he had left to lift Eddie’s body. 
“Gotta be in heaven, if you’re here,” Eddie spoke, giving Steve a lopsided grin. Steve felt Eddie’s pain beginning to fade and panicked, not ready to let things end before they’d even had the chance to begin. 
He hoisted Eddie up through the portal and waited to do the same with Dustin. It wasn’t long before the distant sound of sirens once more surrounded the Munson trailer and Steve found himself passing out from the pain as red-blue lights swallowed the world whole. 
Eddie woke in pain, his whole body humming with a familiar dull ache that was unarguably his. It took time for him to make sense of the scene. He was in the hospital. Steve was slumped over at the far edge of the room, sleeping in an uncomfortable plastic chair, his head thrown back and his mouth agape. Eddie’s eyes trailed to his bedside, where he met Dustin’s. 
“Holy shit, you’re awake,” the boy gasped, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. 
Eddie cringed as he felt a rush of pain swarm through his body. He must have gasped, because Steve sprung to life, waking with a start as his eyes trailed from Dustin to Eddie. Steve’s eyes were a storm of quiet conflict, punctuated by deep purple bruises. 
“Eddie,” Steve breathed, standing to hover beside the bed, unsure of what to do next. 
He was surprised Steve was there at all. He wouldn’t say the two were close. Though Steve had probably found some way of twisting Eddie getting hurt into some fault of his, ever the damn hero. 
“Thought I was a goner for a second there,” Eddie admitted, trying to shake some of the strange tension from the room.
“If Steve hadn’t gotten there in time, you would’ve been,” Dustin spoke. Eddie watched as the boy’s hands trembled. He leaned over, fighting through the pain to ruffle the kid’s hair. Steve’s shoulders hunched over, doubling into himself. 
“I’ll get the nurse. Your uncle left for his nightshift, but he should be back in a few,” Dustin muttered as he made a beeline for the exit. It seemed strange the boy was extracting himself from the scene.
Henderson called over his shoulder. “I told you so.” 
And just like that, Eddie knew. 
He looked up at Steve with wide-eyed alarm, only to find his look mirrored.
“How’d you know we were in trouble?” Eddie asked, though thought he knew the answer. 
“After we killed Vecna, I felt... I could feel you. I knew you were hurt,” Steve explained. 
“How’d you know it was me?” Eddie pushed.
“Thought it was too much of a coincidence that it felt like my soulmate was getting eaten alive by giant bats. I’d call it an educated guess.” 
Eddie gritted his teeth and nodded. Surely, as far as soulmates went, he hadn’t been what Steve imagined. 
“I’m sorry,” Steve said, surprising Eddie. 
“For what?”
“Not being the person you wanted me to be, I guess,” Steve spoke so candidly, it made pain and panic swell in his throat. How could Steve think Eddie was disappointed that he was his soulmate?
“I’m not disappointed, Stevie. Why would I be disappointed?” 
“You had to have known,” Steve reasoned. 
Eddie didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, but it sounded like Steve had been overthinking every second of it. 
“You give me more credit than I deserve. I didn’t know it was you, sweetheart. Cross my heart,” Eddie admitted, surprised at how quickly the term of endearment he’d used for his soulmate slipped off his tongue when talking to Steve. 
He hadn’t worked out shit. He’d had hunches, as though his heart knew, but the logical part of his brain kept overriding it. In what world were he and Steve perfect for each other?
Eddie threw caution to the wind as he saw the genuine look of affection and excitement painting its way across Steve’s face. He looked hopeful. Eddie cringed, sitting up and trying to lean closer to Steve.
“Come here before I hurt the both of us,” Eddie grumbled.
Steve shuffled closer to Eddie’s bed, crouching down, so the two were at eye level. Eddie wanted to kiss the boy so damn bad, and Steve was sending him all the signs that he should, but there was something he had to do first. He took Steve’s face between his hands, running a thumb over the purple bruises beneath his eyes.
“No more playing hero, okay?” 
Steve nudged his face into the palm of Eddie’s hand and nodded, letting out a weak chuckle. 
“I think I can agree to that.” 
Eddie crushed their lips together and despite the pain, it felt like everything was right in the world. 
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rip-quizilla · 9 months
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Eat Me
Pairing: Older!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Popstar!Reader
Summary: (TLDR: you perform with Corroded Coffin, act like a brat the whole time, and Eddie makes you pay for it.) Two years after your hiatus from the music industry, you're back and all grown up now. After collaborating with early 2000's metal sensation Corroded Coffin for several songs off your new album, you debut the new tracks live in a surprise performance with the band during their tour- and the tension between you and frontman Eddie Munson is so thick, you're barely able to keep your pants on throughout the set. (Songs referenced are by Demi Lovato from her album HOLY FVCK, which inspired this fic. I highly suggest listening to the songs "Eat Me" and "Freak" while they're performed in the story for the complete experience!)
Word Count: 14K
Tags: 🔥SMUT, age gap (reader is 27, Eddie is 47), Reader is a brat (Eddie can handle it), fingering, squirting, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap up!!), light degradation, reader has blue hair, reader is a grown-up child star, for the purposes of this fic Corroded Coffin started in the 90s instead of 80s for timeline reasons
🖤🖤🖤
You had no fucking clue what you were doing. 
It had been two years since you’d put out music. Two. Years. That’s enough time for a person’s relevance to crawl into a hole and die, which is something you had been strongly considering doing for the duration of those two years. 
It was a tale as old as time- child star grows up. Child star is not a child anymore, but the world only wants the star to be a child, so if the star wants to keep being a star, they do not. grow. up. 
But you grew up, and guess what happened? 
The world hated you for it. 
So you stopped trying to be a star. You’d dropped off the face of the earth and deleted every social media app from your phone. You’d bought a house in the mountains, and thanks to modern technologies like Amazon and DoorDash, you basically never had to leave. It was a little scary how easily you had become a hermit living in a cabin in the woods. Your life quickly became a never ending cycle of reading, binge-watching tv, and dying/cutting your hair whenever the mood struck (The latest spontaneous color change had left you with a surprisingly pretty shade of faded blue).
It was easy, running away… until it caught up with you.
After all, at your core you had always been a performer. From your first audition at five years old to your big break at twelve, to the first album you’d put out on your television network’s record label- you had always been a person who had something to say and craved an audience to hear it. When your audience had turned on you, it had jolted your rhythm enough that you forgot the words to a song you’d been singing as long as you could remember. 
It had taken you a couple years, but eventually you figured out that when you play the same song on repeat for long enough, it gets old. 
So you wrote a new song. 
To be more precise, you wrote a whole album. Literally. 
Some of the songs were composed, some still needed a tune, but the message of the album was clear: I’m not that little girl on your TV screen anymore. You don’t have to like it, but you sure as hell can’t change it. 
The minute you’d figured that out, you’d called your team. Once they understood the direction your career was headed, they helped get everything in order for your re-entry into the fray that had driven you out in the first place. 
There was only one part of the album that made you nervous. 
I know two years doesn’t seem like that long, your agent had said, but the public eye doesn’t have a very impressive attention span. You only have half of the album composed, right? This is the perfect opportunity to make the other half of the songs collaborations with artists that are in the public eye! 
The idea made sense. Their popularity helps you, and if the songs go over well, then it helps the other artists too. The only issue was that these songs were way more vulnerable than what you used to write… hell, half the songs you’d recorded before your hiatus were written by whatever run of the mill joe schmo had gotten the kid-friendly execs’ stamp of approval. Even when you’d split from the network after turning twenty-three, you’d kept your songs strictly PG-rated since you knew the majority of your audience were minors. These new songs, though… 
You weren’t an idiot. The themes of these songs were not subtle. Anyone who listened to these new songs was going to see a side of you that wasn’t all that pretty. Were you ready for that? Were you ready to bare that darkness to not only the world, but to other artists who meant to help you make music out of it?
Your anxiety about the album had gotten even worse when your agent had given you the list of potential collaborators.
 One song that you were particularly proud of called “Eat Me” had some very metal undertones to it, so you’d told your agent that you’d like to collaborate with a metal band or artist to compose the music that would match the lyrics. Almost immediately, your agent had suggested a collaboration with Corroded Coffin.
The band had been HUGE when you were a kid, topping charts throughout your childhood and making a name for themselves as one of the most culturally relevant turn-of-the-century metal bands. Even now, they were a household name. Your older brother had been a huge fan, so you’d actually listened to their music quite a lot growing up. They weren’t some random collaboration- if Corroded Coffin read your lyrics (which were basically your soul laid out on display) and thought they were shit? It might just send you spiraling right back to your cabin in the mountains. 
You had been equal parts thrilled and terrified when your agent told you they’d agreed to collaborate on the song.
Currently, you were sitting in your home-away-from-home, a cozy apartment that you rented on a month-to-month basis whenever you needed to be in New York, which just so happened to be where Eddie Munson, lead singer/guitarist of Corroded Coffin had asked to meet with you. It was your album, so you had invited him to come to your place and discuss his ideas for the song. You shifted nervously on your couch and glanced at the time on your phone. He was ten minutes late- that shouldn’t bother you, a lot of musicians had a habit of running late. Just because you didn’t subscribe to that stereotype didn’t mean you had to judge him for doing the opposite. 
When you finally heard the buzz of your doorbell, you practically hopped off the couch. You peeped through the little door viewer to catch a glimpse before you had to look one of your childhood heroes in the eye. You… you hadn’t been adequately prepared to see this. 
Eddie Munson had been attractive in his hay day- you could admit that. You’d seen the pictures of him on their album covers, the press photos, the magazines… he had always been cute in a scruffy sort of way. You hadn’t bothered Googling what he looked like now, which you were currently regretting since you had not been adequately prepared for the father of all DILFs to be standing on your doorstep. 
After doing some quick math, you came to the conclusion that Eddie Munson must be in his mid to late forties at this point. His hair was still long and curly and thick as hell, but you noticed other details that you distinctly remembered were not present on the album covers you remember from your brother’s CD collection- dark, whiskery shadow along his cheeks and jawline. Tattoos creeping up from the collar of the crew neck shirt he wore, as well as every inch of his arms. A nose ring. Smile lines. Soft creases forming between thick brown eyebrows. 
Eyebrows drawing together in confusion because you weren’t opening the door. 
Shit. You inhaled sharply and hastily made to open the door. Breathe, you instructed yourself, taking a moment to blow out a semi-relaxing breath before turning the doorknob and plastering on your best entertainment industry smile.
“Hi!” you said, a little too peppy- you knew you sounded too peppy because the rockstar in front of you actually flinched when your high-pitched sorority girl voice slapped him in the face. “Sorry, I think I’m a little caffeine-riddled, I just finished my third cup of coffee.” You said apologetically, swinging the door open wider for him to step through the threshold into your apartment. 
“Too many frappuccinos there, huh popstar?” His voice… if it hadn’t been so condescending, you might have melted on the spot. Your pride, however, had to argue with your clenching thighs. 
“Uhm, no-” you laughed, keeping your voice airy as you shut the door and leaned back on it to ensure it was closed. “-just cold brew, rockstar.” You couldn’t help but add that quip at the end, seeing how he had just called you popstar like it was the same as calling someone a pussy or a wimp. What was his deal?
He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest, and then turned back as if you hadn’t said anything at all. He simply sauntered through the hallway to your living room, where you had laid all the necessary materials for your composing process across the coffee table- but he wasn’t looking at that. He seemed to be inspecting your walls, the decor, the old pictures that sat in frames on your floating shelves, the records you had displayed above your turntable. His eyes surveyed everything like he was a judge at a fucking science fair, and your heart was starting to race as you started to irrationally wonder if you fell short of his expectations or something.
“Ahem,” you cleared your throat to get his attention. 
He turned to face you, irritation flashing across his expression like a cloud blowing past the sun. You took a breath. Calm down, you chided yourself mentally, he’s probably just a prick, don’t take it personally. Be professional. 
“Can I get you something to drink?” You chirped politely, to which he smirked and shook his head.
“Don’t trouble yourself, sweetheart.” 
You bristled; sweetheart? Who did he think he was, Don Draper? Was this the 1950’s? Were you his fucking secretary? Your blood pressure rose by the second. 
“Hm.” you respond, chewing your lip to keep a snarky response to yourself. “Well, we can go ahead and get started if you want.” You gestured to the pages strewn across the coffee table. Notebook pages with your lyrics written out in black pen, empty pages of sheet music that you planned to fill out with a melody to coincide with your words as the morning went on. Your acoustic guitar sat securely in its stand beside the couch, eagerly awaiting your hands to make the message in your music come alive.
Munson sunk into the cushions of your leather couch, manspreading enough to make you feel like a guest in your own apartment. His forearms rested on the thighs of his ripped charcoal jeans as he surveyed the pages before him. He grabbed the notebook page full of lyrics first, chuckling when he saw the title. 
“Eat Me, huh?” he raised an eyebrow at you, and the way he was holding the page between the two of you left only the top half of his face visible from where you sat. You noted that Eddie Munson had extremely expressive eyes. “That’s a pretty evocative title for such a squeaky-clean ‘lil diva.”
Your brow furrowed. “That’s kind of the point.” Using your pointer finger to pull the page down, the bottom half of the rockstar’s face coming into view and spiking your blood pressure again when you saw that fucking smirk still on his face. 
That’s it. This guy is an ass.
“Maybe my agent didn’t accurately portray my vision for this album,” you said, struggling to grit out the words without coming across angry. “If that’s the case, I’m very sorry we got our wires crossed.” 
Ready to listen, Munson leaned back into your couch and crossed one booted foot over his knee, an arm thrown across the top of your couch cushions. The picture of nonchalance. 
Cocky bastard. 
“I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I haven’t put any music out in over two years.” you began. “This isn’t just a new album for me- it's more like a debut album for the new direction I want to take my career in. Up until now, I’ve been portraying a very different side of myself that…if I’m being honest, it wasn’t really me. It was childish and immature and I…” 
You huffed out a heavy, frustrated sigh. “-I can’t do it anymore, I can’t keep being a kid, I’m twenty-fucking-seven years old, for god’s sake.” the rockstar’s eyebrows jumped up at hearing your expletive, obviously amused.
What the fuck? Here you were, being vulnerable with a complete stranger, and he thought it was amusing? You half expected him to laugh, but you brushed past it and decided to ignore this asshole being even more of an asshole. 
“What I’m trying to say is this is a very personal album for me. It’s very different from what I’ve been putting out, and that is very much the point. Does that make sense?” 
You watched as he slowly nodded his head, mulling over your words. “So…it’s like a coming of age thing?” he ventured, “Like, ‘little girl’s all grown up and sexy now’ all that?” his mouth turned up at one corner. “How very Miley Cyrus of you, sweetheart.”
You scoffed, physically recoiling a bit. “Are you being serious right now?” you balked. 
He shrugged. 
Oh, you fumed, that is it. Fuck this guy.
You stood from the couch, finally snapping after holding yourself back from giving this asshat a piece of your mind. “What is your problem?” Munson’s smirk faded a bit, but his smug air remained intact as he stared up at you. 
“Look sweetheart-”
“No.” you cut him off, stopping him with a hand in the air. “Stop calling me sweetheart like you know me or like that isn’t a condescending fucking way to speak to someone. You have done nothing but talk down to me since you walked through that door, so no, you do not get to talk to me like that, I don’t care how famous you are.”
There wasn’t a trace of a smile on his face now, and you took pride in that. Maybe there was a conscience in there somewhere that was telling him I told you so right now.
You took the page from his hands and held it up for emphasis. “If you had just read my fucking song before making assumptions, then maybe you would have understood that this song is actually a social commentary on people like you who assume the direct trajectory of a child star’s career is to go from cute and childish to sexy ‘girls gone wild’ or whatever the fuck.” you spat, practically shaking the paper in your hand. “I’m allowed to grow into whoever I damn well please, and that’s exactly what this song is about. If I want to write a song about sex- and I’ve written a few, they’re on the fucking album- I’ll write them because that’s what I want to write! I’m not doing it for shock value or because I like attention; hell, I’ve been a literal hermit in the woods for two years, I don’t give a fuck about attention!”
You finally paused to breathe, and you knew your eyes must look absolutely insane because the man before you genuinely looked terrified. 
Steeling yourself, you inhaled and exhaled slowly, attempting to push down some of that hysteria. “Sorry.” you bit, “Didn’t mean to unload all that on you. It’s just… this song is a part of me, and you just belittled it without even reading past the title.” You looked him directly in those big brown eyes and thought- hoped- for a second that you saw understanding in his gaze. “That was shitty. I’m not letting other people make me feel like shit anymore.” 
When you were finished, silence took over. It settled over the room like a reprieve from a short but heavy rainfall before the sun showed itself again. Suddenly, Eddie Munson stood from your couch and marched to your door, letting himself out with a sharp click of your doorknob latching closed. 
Okay. That went well. The lead singer of one of the most famous metal bands just came to your apartment, got yelled at, and ran away. You were just starting to ponder how you would explain this one to your publicist before you heard a knock at your door. Tentatively, you opened it- you didn’t need to look through the peephole to know who it was. 
Eddie Munson stood at your door wearing an expression that you hadn’t seen yet today- he looked open, compassionate, and sorry. One hand in his pocket with the other outstretched, tattoos winding up the expanse of skin, rings glinting light from the sconces on either side of your door. He was offering his hand. 
Smiling slightly, you accepted his gesture. You grasped his ink-scarred hand, feeling the cold metal of his rings press against your skin as you shook it. “It’s lovely to meet you-” he said your name softly, and you realized that when he had entered your apartment earlier, you hadn’t even exchanged pleasantries. Hadn’t introduced yourselves, almost as if fame got rid of the need for normal human introductions. Now, here he was, remedying that.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Munson,” you said, voice less chipper than it had been when the two of you originally stood in these same spots. “I’m a huge fan.” 
He winced at ‘Mr.’, clapping his other hand over yours tightly. “Please, for the love of god, don’t call me Mr. Munson.” his big brown eyes pleaded with you. “Call me Eddie.”
Your smile widened as you nodded. “Eddie.” you repeated. “Is this you telling me we’re starting over?” 
He let go of your hand, and you felt a sudden chill as the warmth of his skin left yours. “If that’s alright with you?” he replied softly, turning up the end of his sentence like a question. 
Instead of saying yes, you simply stepped back to make room for him in your hallway. With a pleasant grin on your lips, you gestured for him to step inside. “Let’s get started, then.”
After sitting down on the couch once more, Eddie took the sheet of notebook paper on which you’d scrawled a part of your soul written in verse and began to read intently. Leaving him to digest the song completely (also because you felt awkward sitting there in silence as he read your work) you left to grab two water bottles from the kitchen. When you returned, he had already grabbed a fresh sheet of notebook paper and begun jotting down notes. 
You placed the bottles on coasters, bracing yourself for the criticism that you knew was coming-
“You were right.”
Huh? 
You craned your neck to see what he had written on the notebook paper. “About what?”
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Eddie yanked the paper out of your line of sight. “About this song, it’s completely different from what I’d assumed you would write. Actually,” he grinned. “-it’s kinda fucking metal.”
You smiled, once again reaching for the page. “Then let me see what you wrote-”
“I’m not finished yet, keep your panties on.”
The two of you worked for hours that afternoon, Eddie suggesting lines and chords as you wrote corresponding notes and chords on your sheet music. It didn’t take long for you to grab the acoustic guitar and begin strumming out portions of the song until it was finished.
Both of you agreed it was something to be proud of.
“Hey, uh,” Eddie stuttered before exiting your apartment that evening, when you were both happy with the work you’d done for the day. “I hope you know how sorry I am for being such an ass when I got here earlier-”
You shrugged, any traces of anger melted away at this point. “Eh.” you smirked. “You made up for it. That song might be my favorite on the album now, honestly, I meant it when I said I was a fan of yours- wouldn’t have trusted it with anyone else.”
He smiled at you warmly. “I’m honored to have such a talented fan.” The door was open, but he wasn’t leaving yet. Instead, Eddie stood with his tattooed arms crossed over his chest leaning his weight to one shoulder against the doorway. “I mean it though, you’re a talented songwriter. If you want to collaborate on any other songs, just say the word and I’m back here.”
You quirked an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
He nodded, “Dead serious.”
Smiling excitedly, you ran to your notebook, flipping through the pages until you found what you were looking for. You looked up at Eddie, a knowing grin on your lips. “Remember those songs about sex I mentioned?”
***
The original plan for your album had been to collaborate with multiple artists for about fifty percent of your album, while the other fifty percent would only feature you. What ended up happening was slightly different.
The more songs Eddie saw, the more passionate he became about the message you were working to convey through your lyrics. He ended up reworking every single song with you in a completely collaborative process, where he never overstepped, never tried to take over- simply understood what you were trying to say and added the extra ‘oomph’ each song had been needing to truly become what you had envisioned. 
“I feel like I really can’t just call this my album now, Eddie, you’ve contributed way more to this to just be credited as a featured artist-”
You’d first voiced concerns about how to credit Eddie in the album a few days into your songwriting spree. It became an easy routine, Eddie would come over first thing in the morning, and the two of you would sit in your living room working through your songs and ordering takeout until the sun set. 
“Well it’s not a collaboration album with Corroded Coffin,” Eddie had replied, sticking a bite of noodles into his mouth. The two of you had been seated at your kitchen table, white boxes of Chinese food, napkins, and torn chopstick wrappers decorating the space between you. “Those fuckers haven’t even met you, they don’t get credit for anything they ain’t playing on.” 
“But I’m talking about you.” you pushed, “If we keep going the way we’ve been, you’re going to be a vital part of the composition for every track on this album! I’m not going to let you avoid credit for that.” you gazed at him, unable to hide the admiration you’d begun to feel for the artist at your table. “Let me list you as a composer for every track you help me with. We already know you and your band will be featured on Eat Me and Freak, so obviously you’ll be credited for those…” 
As you continued to ramble on about how Eddie would be credited for each and every song lyric he suggested, he got distracted looking at the way your hair glinted slightly different shades of blue in the sunlight that filtered in through your balcony window. His eyes followed the light along your skin, taking in the way it glistened off the dewey shine on your cheekbone, how it shone directly into the corner of your eye so that colors he had never noticed were brought to the surface of your irises…
This wasn’t the first time that Eddie had gotten distracted watching you rant about something you were passionate about. He knew he was supposed to be listening, that it was very important that he knew what your songs were about, that he understood the details of your plans for the album so that you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself later- but dammit, you were just so pretty. Really fucking pretty, it was hard for him not to get distracted. Initially, this whole collaboration had just been something that Eddie’s publicist had suggested for getting the newer generation listening to Corroded Coffin in time for their new album to drop at the end of the summerl, so when Eddie had first waltzed into your apartment he’d been expecting a kid; an innocent, teeny-bopper sort of persona. He hadn’t expected a loud, firecracker of a woman with hair the color of his old denim jacket. 
Eddie wasn’t an idiot. He was well aware that he was old enough to be your father. You were what- twenty-seven? Twenty-eight? Definitely under thirty. And here he was, pushing forty-seven with a salt and pepper shadow on his jawline. The hair on his head hadn’t started graying yet (he dreaded the day that he would have to use *gulp* hair dye) but he knew it was only a matter of time. For him to be ogling you like this? It would probably make you uncomfortable if you knew how often his eyes forgot to look away when you left the room. What was that old saying? Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave-
“Eddie?” 
Shit. He’d missed an entire conversation, hadn’t he?
He gave you his best apologetic smile, which didn’t work at all. You sighed, hanging your head low exasperatedly. “You didn’t hear a word of that did you?”
“Not a word, zoned out.” 
You threw a fortune cookie at him.
***
You and Eddie didn’t see each other for a while after recording the album. Eddie was there with the rest of Corroded Coffin to record the two tracks that they were featured in for the album, but after that plus a few guitar parts Eddie had been kind enough to record for some other songs, the two of you hadn’t had a reason to see each other. 
That was why you were so nervous for tonight. 
After working all summer and the better part of the fall, the album was finally finished. Copies of CDs and special edition vinyl were already being shipped out to music stores across the country and set to hit shelves in a week, so tonight was the kickoff event for your publicity tour: you would be joining Corroded Coffin tonight onstage for a surprise performance of Eat Me and  Freak. Tonight was October 31st, and premiering those songs on Halloween with the metal king that helped you make them the masterpieces they were? This was just one of those moments when the stars aligned poetically.
You looked yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before heading to sound check. It had been a couple of months since you’d seen Eddie, but that wouldn’t matter, right? You’d spent a whole week workshopping incredibly personal- in some cases, intimately personal- songs with the guy, so singing onstage with him shouldn’t be a big deal. You were a professional, so it didn’t matter that you hadn’t performed in over two years, you could do this. Never mind the fact that this was the first performance of the rest of your career; never mind that sometimes the way Eddie looked at you make you feel like your knees were about to buckle; never mind that Eddie Munson, rock god and sex symbol of the metal world, was going to be within touching distance the moment you set foot on that stage…
A knock at the door of your tiny dressing room startled you, along with a voice letting you know that sound check was about to begin. Decisively, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the stage before you could psych yourself out any more. 
When you got to the stage, Eddie was the first person you laid eyes on. He smiled at you, dark curls flying around his face and forming a sinful-looking halo around his face as he gave you a friendly nod- god, he was gorgeous. Waving back at him, you returned the nod and grinned. You wouldn’t be going on until the end of their set, so you situated yourself on an empty stool backstage with a view of the band. 
Their practice was fascinating to watch, how all four of the band members were so obviously masters of their craft, each ear trained to notice any imperfection in the way their instruments sounded through the stereos. Every once in a while, Eddie would look your way out the corner of his eye, just to check if you were still watching; you always were. Whenever he saw you looking directly at him, never glancing down at your phone or at the other band members (besides the odd look thrown in Gareth Emerson’s direction; the way his curls bounced was honestly hypnotic), he’d hold your eye contact, smirk into the microphone, and continue to belt out the lyrics to his songs with a smidge more cockiness than he had been prior. 
When the time finally came for you to join them, you took a deep breath and strutted to where Eddie stood in the center of the stage. No one had handed you a mic, so you weren’t sure where you were supposed to stand until Eddie moved aside to make room for you at his mic stand. 
You looked questioningly at Eddie. “You don’t need your mic?”
He chuckled, placing a hand on the small of your back as he put his lips to your ear. You figured he was just trying to avoid the mic picking up his voice, but the hand on your back… that was new. Was this a move? Was Eddie Munson making a move? On you?
Oh. 
That’s a fun development. 
“This one’s all you, darlin’.” Eddie said, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I’ll stay out of your way. Also-” He pulled away enough to look you in the eyes, and your lips must have been a little too close to the mic because it picked up your fucking gasp. You jerked your head away from the mic, cursing yourself for being so nervous. 
Eddie definitely noticed, but all he did was chuckle, still staring at you with giant doe eyes framed by smile lines and bushy brown eyebrows. “-it’s good to see you, popstar.” There was no condescension in his tone this time; all you could find in his gaze was kind, genuine joy that you were here, and you couldn’t help but smile back. 
Confidently, you gripped the mic with both hands, smirking at Eddie through your side eye. You didn’t bother leaning away from the mic when you replied, sprinkling sultry into your voice. If Eddie Munson was trying to drop a hint, you wanted him to know you were receiving it.
“It’s good to see you too, rockstar.”
***
Mic check went flawlessly, which meant it was time for you and the band to eat in the green room while fans began lining up outside the venue, waiting for the doors to open. 
You had a couple drinks with the band while biding your time before you had to get dressed for the show. Much to your delight, Eddie never left your side the whole time. You had been close to him in your living room day after day when you’d worked on your songs, but this was different; you kept noticing little glances and touches that spoke louder than words- how his hands lingered longer than expected, never missing a chance to touch your arm or place a hand on your back to guide you as you walked. How his eyes were most focused whenever he was looking at you, and he never seemed to give you passing glances- every look he gave you was intense and purposeful, it made you shiver in a very good way. When he and the band left to get ready for showtime, he took a moment to check on how you were before leaving to go to his dressing room. 
“You nervous?” he asked. There wasn’t any judgment there, just concern for you. 
“Yes,” you admitted, “But I think I’ve got it.”
Eddie smiled widely, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you tightly. “Oh I know you’ve got it, angel.”
You caught his wrist, holding it to your shoulder before he could retract it. Turning to him, you batted your eyes a bit before raising an eyebrow. “Angel, huh?”
Eddie inclined his head, eyes narrowing flirtatiously. “What, should I switch back to sweetheart?”
You smirked. “Only if you wanna make me mad.”
It took everything in you not to shrink back from him as he leaned forward, practically glowering over you. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but must have decided against it. You saw his tongue poke into the inside of his cheek as he nodded to himself, eyes narrowing further as if he were having a whole conversation within his head that you weren’t privy to. Finally, he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze and you let him go, staring at him with every ounce of confidence you could muster. 
“...I’ll remember that, popstar.” he said, voice low and gravelly and sure to throw you into a coma if he said the right words with that voice at the right time. You didn’t let him see how much he was affecting you, though- save for a little grin that you couldn’t hide as he smirked at you and walked away.
When he exited the green room- and you were sure you were alone- you finally let out a breath that you’d been holding for what seemed like entire minutes. You grabbed your drink, chugging down the rest of your liquid courage in the hopes that it might also cool you down a bit. 
***
The cheers from the crowd were deafening, and the gravity of what was about to happen was starting to get to you. 
Corroded Coffin was about to start the song that would be your cue to join them. You stood in the wings like you had during sound check, this time fussing over your outfit to ensure every piece was in place. The fact that it was Halloween combined with the tone of your new album had influenced your wardrobe choice for the evening- ripped black jeans that were more rip than jean, a strappy black bustier top with a plethora of silver buckles that decorating the surface of your bodice where the sides attached at your sternum, fishnet fingerless gloves, and your favorite part of the outfit: the biggest platform boots you’d ever owned. You remembered seeing them and falling in love immediately with the straps that decorated the entirety of the shoe, as well as the silver buckles on each strap that matched your top like a dream. Paired with your blue hair, you looked strikingly goth and nearly unrecognizable from the girl your fans remembered. 
When Eddie announced you onstage, you had to take a deep breath before joining him out there. Slow inhale, slow exhale… and then you were overtaken with hot stage lights.
Out on the stage, you could really take in the size of this crowd- it was far larger than what you were used to, and when they realized who you were, they went wild. You couldn’t help but be intimidated until you felt Eddie’s hand gently grounding you as it ghosted the skin on your back.
His lips tickled your ear as he leaned in and whispered in your ear out of range from the mic, “Knock ‘em dead, sweetheart.” 
You felt a flare of indignation intertwined with delight, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little evilly into the mic at this little shit of a rockstar.
 He did that on purpose. 
You looked at him with the biggest smirk on your face, and it matched the smug, sultry grin on his. Silently, he nodded at the audience as if to say ‘Well? They’re waiting.’
You looked over your shoulder at Jeff on the bass, nodded, and right on cue as Jeff began the first note of the song, the entire stage was flooded with scarlet light. 
***
Eddie could tell you were nervous. Flirting with you probably wasn’t helping, and for all he knew, he might even be making you uncomfortable. 
However…
Over the years, Eddie’s gotten more perceptive when it came to the subtleties of body language. He didn’t miss the fact that you’d been leaning into every touch he ghosted over your skin, no matter how overt or fleeting those touches might have been. He’d seen the change in your eye contact when it lingered a little longer than necessary- that shift from attentive to intrigued, even a little wanting at times. 
The only question was what you wanted, and Eddie was really hoping it was him.
As he watched you take his place at the mic, standing monochrome in scarlet light, he bit his lip as he tried to hold back the salacious grin that slid across his lips; he was unsuccessful. 
Eddie hit his guitar part easily as you purred the lyrics that the two of you had slaved over into your microphone. 
Be more predictable
Be less political
Not too original
Keep to tradition, but stay individual
Thrusting ever so slightly with his warlock, Eddie channeled the rage and rebellion of your lyrics into every word, smirking with the next few lines- they had been one of the first additions to the song that he’d made, and you more than did them justice. 
Dirty but washable
Winning but stoppable
All that I’m hearing is
You wanna make the impossible possible
Even though you’d been nervous earlier, it looked like you’d been able to shake it all off. Confidence was rolling off you like waves, strength in your comfort onstage practically seeping out of your pores. Eddie felt proud, yes, but mostly? He was turned the fuck on by it. His eyes never left you as you carefully removed the mic from its stand and leisurely strode to the edge of the stage as you sang the next lines, punctuating the last with a little shake of your head and a comically disgusted wrinkle of your nose.
Is this what you’d all prefer?
Would you like me better if I was still her?
Did she make your mouths water?
Ugh.
Just like you’d practiced, flashing white lights littered the stage right on cue when the drums opened up the chorus, and you belted those lyrics with all the anger and exasperation that he knew you’d felt when you’d written them. You were a force to be reckoned with- this was that girl he’d met when he’d walked into your apartment acting like a jackass; this was the firecracker of a woman who wasn’t afraid to tell him exactly what she thought. 
I know the part I’ve played before
I know the shit that I’ve ignored
I know the girl that you adored
She’s dead, it’s time to fucking mourn
I can’t spoon-feed you anymore
I can’t spoon-feed you anymore
Dinner’s served, it’s on the floor
I can’t spoon-feed you anymore
You dropped to a crouch, for the end of the chorus, legs bent but spread slightly, and flashing lights glinted off the metal buckles of your platform boots. Your voice ripped from your chest as you belted into the mic.
You’ll have to eat me as I am
You’ll have to eat me as I am
Eddie was incredibly grateful for the crouch you’d dropped into, because it gave him a view of your ass that was so perfect, he actually groaned. Swooned, practically. Thank god you had his mic and the music was loud enough that no one noticed. He hoped. However, anyone with eyes could probably see that he was basically undressing you with his gaze right now, so he really needed to get it together unless he wanted to be on a front page tomorrow for the wrong reasons. He cringed, imagining the headline Munson Ogles Popstar Half His Age. Mid-Life Crisis? Yeah. His publicist would love that one. 
You stood back up, stalking the edge of the stage as you sang the second verse. When you were about halfway through, you turned to look over your shoulder at Eddie, and it just about knocked the breath from his lungs. Your eyes- lined in black and zeroing in on him like something out of his metalhead fantasies- smoldered like embers on the edge of a cigarette as you sang the second half of the verse to him. 
Longer hair and tighter clothes
Would you like me better if I didn’t oppose?
Silver platters, pretty bows…
You were at his side now, turned sideways from the crowd so you were facing him as he turned to face you in tandem. About a foot away from each other, the only thing between you was his guitar, thankfully big enough to hide the way his hard-on was quickly growing harder with every moment you looked at him with those eyes. 
Your expression shifted, eyes rolling as you threw your head back in mock boredom, amping the lines up to the extreme. As you lifted your head back up, you looked at him with the brattiest fucking face Eddie had ever seen as you delivered the final line of the verse into the mic.
…Fuck. 
And then you smirked, tip of your tongue peeking out of your lips and you winked at him. 
Fucking. Winked. 
Ohhhhhh, you were doing this on purpose. You had to be. 
And Eddie couldn’t do shit about it, because you were in the middle of a performance, on stage, jumping around in platform boots and screaming the chorus into your mic like fucking banshee. So he channeled every ounce of sexual frustration into shredding the fuck out of his guitar and staring you down, salivating at the way you blazed on that stage like a witch at the stake. Then, about halfway through that chorus, at the edge of the stage and working the crowd for all they could give you, Eddie just about had a heart attack.
Because you dropped to your fucking knees.
You let the music take control of you, screaming ‘I can’t spoon-feed you anymore’ into the mic, you dropped down to one knee followed by the other as you delivered the final lines before Eddie’s solo.
You’ll have to eat me as I am
You’ll have to eat me as I am
You held your last note long and loud, widening your knees and leaning into a backbend that didn’t stop until your upper back touched the stage behind you. Eddie was amazed that he was even able to remember his part when you were in front of him doing that. Jesus Christ.
Eddie continued to play, and he saw you crane your neck just in time to make eye contact with him as you delivered the next line of the song. You brought the mic to your lips, your knees still spread open and your spine deliciously arched.
Choke on it!
God…you were gonna kill him. 
You pushed yourself back into a kneeling position, facing the audience. As Eddie’s guitar solo became more complex, and his playing more impressive, your jaw dropped as you looked to the audience and fanned yourself, as if you were all sharing a joint reaction of ‘wow, are you guys hearing this too?!’. Eyes crinkling from your smile, you brought the mic to your mouth again. 
Choke on it!
Once you were back on your feet, you stood at ease in the center of the stage as you waited out Eddie’s solo. When he finished, you stared down the crowd as you delivered the last chorus. At this point, Eddie could see some of the spectators mouthing the words along with you, and his chest swelled with pride at your ability to win over a crowd that hadn’t even been expecting you on stage. Hell, knowing his fans, most of them were probably older than you by several years, and yet here they were singing your song. 
When you drew your first breath after the final note, the crowd went wild. He expected you to be staring at them, soaking up the energy of a satisfied throng of fans, but no- immediately, your eyes were on him, an ear-to-ear smile stretching across your face. You had just absolutely killed your first song performed in two years, and you wanted to share your joy with him before you shared it with anyone else. 
Eddie couldn’t help but mirror your smile- it was the least he could do, after the way you just made his heart swell to triple its usual size. He took a few steps over to where Jeff stood with his bass, nodding to the mic in a silent question, to which Jeff gladly stepped aside. 
“If this is what happens when you take a two-year hiatus,” Eddie said slyly into the mic, “then maybe you should do it more often, rockstar.”
The crowd cheered again, and you looked caught off guard by his calling you rockstar instead of popstar. To Eddie, it made perfect sense- tonight, there was nothing pop about you. You were rock & roll incarnate, his equal in every single way. You took a few steps back until you and he were the same distance from the edge of the stage, and as long as he was speaking, your eyes never left him.
“So I’ve been working with this absolute badass on an album- well no, I’m giving myself way too much credit, she wrote an album, I plucked a few guitar strings, yada yada yada-” You giggled as Eddie reminded the crowd of your name, loud and clear, so they knew who to look up on Spotify later. “-anyway, her album drops in a week, that last song you heard was called…”
Eddie looked at you with expectant eyes and a devilish smile. He wanted to hear you say it. Just for fun. He enjoyed being a little shit. 
You smirked into your mic. “Eat Me.” 
The crowd cheered again, all it took was hearing you say two little words. Eddie knew the feeling.  
“We’ve got one more before our lovely guest has to leave the stage, and this one is my personal favorite off the album.” Eddie started warming up with a couple chords from the song before adding, “This is Freak.”
You had replaced the mic into its stand at center stage, which was where Eddie headed to meet you. During sound check, you had asked him if he would need his own mic for this one, but Eddie- selfishly- had said it was no problem, and he didn’t mind sharing. That was a drastic understatement though, since he would happily leap at any excuse to have his lips close to yours in any capacity at all. 
You smiled at him, and you were doing that thing again- that thing where you looked at him like you were giving him a dare. That thing where you touched the tip of your tongue to your upper lip. 
Eddie wanted to bite that lip.
Instead, he smoldered down at you as he began the opening chords to Freak. 
***
You may not have been sure about Eddie’s feelings before tonight, but you were now. 
He wanted you. Bad. So bad, you felt high off the lust that was rolling off the man beside you. 
You could tell by the way he was looking at you that he wanted to do so many things to you here and now, but due to the giant crowd before you that wasn’t an option. The power trip of knowing that every move you made was driving him crazy and he couldn’t do shit about it made you feel bratty as fuck, and you channeled every ounce of that into each word of your next song. 
Pinch me, singe me, inch me to the edge
Your eyes fluttered shut as you let the sultry lyrics take over, arms bending as you brought them up to dance above your head as you stretched your neck back. Your pose mimicked the way you might have stretched across a bed, arching your back slightly in a way that you knew would make Eddie’s mind wander to all the right places. 
Prod me, laud me, ungodly but heaven-sent
As the tempo picked up for the bridge, your lips brushed the mic and you bounced slightly to the beat. Looking up at Eddie, you felt your chest tighten when you saw how blown his pupils were as they zeroed in on you. There was nothing silly or flirty in his gaze now- this was lust, want, need… it was predatory in a way that made you shiver.
Get your tickets to the freak show, baby
Step right up to watch the freak go crazy.
Eddie’s guitar launched into the chorus with you, both of your mouths breaking your little standoff by smiling because you couldn’t help yourselves- performing together, this close, singing lyrics that the two of you connected with- you were having so much fun. 
Am what I am and what I am is a piece of meat
Take a bite just to watch me bleed
Freak
Say what you want and what you want is behind your teeth
Ain’t gotta spell it out for me
Freak
Now Eddie’s lips were the ones on the mic, his throaty voice tearing through the air in a way that made you stop short from its power alone. He sang the first two lines on his own-
Bait me, you can cage me
Even plate me, I don’t care
You joined him for the bridge on one side of the mic while his mouth remained in place at the other, and his voice dropped down to his chest to create a sound that was more growl than song. He sounded demonic, feral- damn, you wanted to jump his bones right now. 
Get your tickets to the freak show, baby
Step right up to watch the freaks go crazy
As you both sang the chorus together this time, your eye contact across the microphone was charged with feelings reflected as though you were looking in a mirror. Anticipation for what would happen after this show was building with every lyric, and as he growled his lines into the mic you wondered what the headline would be if you stuck your tongue down his throat right now. 
Unfortunately, that wasn’t how you wanted to start this next leg of your career- at least publicly. Different time, different place. Like, say, in about thirty minutes. In your dressing room. Against a wall, preferably.
When you finished the chorus, Eddie shredded through his guitar solo like a bat out of hell, even improvised a scream into the mic that made your jaw drop yet again. Upon hearing it, you couldn’t help but let out a surprised laugh, hopping up and down in your platform boots and headbanging along with him. After he’d finished, you took hold of the mic stand with both hands and began chanting repeating lines that would take you through to the next chorus before ending the song. 
Came from the trauma, stayed for the drama
You sang the line twice before Eddie joined you for the third and fourth repetition, that deep, ripping croon tearing its way through his throat and out of his plush pink lips less than an inch from yours. You wanted to turn your head and look at him so badly, but you were so close that you’d be locking lips if you did. 
As you both sang the final chorus, you pulled back just enough for your gazes to meet; you were rewarded with lust blown umber eyes, sweat-soaked curls framing a face as timeless as music itself, and a grin that sparked pure joy in your very soul. 
If this guy can fuck, you might just fall for him. 
Eddie prompted the audience to cheer for you one more time after the song was over, shooting you a smile as he brought you in for a friendly hug. He was in front of thousands; you knew his hands would remain in strictly G-rated areas (unfortunately), but he did whisper in your ear out of range from the mic. 
“Wait for me in your dressing room.”
Bingo. 
You thought about following his lead- waiting patiently in your dressing room for him to finish up his show then have his way with you- but you had a better idea. You tilted your head up quickly to bring your lips up to his ear, your clear lip gloss catching its shell.
“I’m gonna keep watching you in the wings- you can do whatever you want after that.” 
Your eyes met as you pulled away, and you let yourself revel for a moment at the way he looked at you- like he wanted to, well…eat you. Eyes so dark they were almost black under the stage lights, he shook his head slightly in disbelief. Again, you felt that familiar rush of adrenaline from driving him crazy when he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it; you were beginning to think you might be addicted.
As Corroded Coffin finished their set, you stayed offstage and did exactly what you said you would- you watched Eddie every second. You were like a sponge soaking up every flip of his hair, every deft movement of his fingers as they flew across the frets of his guitar. Every once in a while, his eyes would flick to where you stood, checking to see if you were still there, which of course you were. Each time he saw you, you watched as he shook his head again, or rolled his eyes, or- in one case which almost resulted in you melting into a puddle on the floor- maintaining eye contact as he belted out lyrics to songs he wrote, with a gaze so smoldering it felt as if there were no one in the whole arena but the two of you. With every minute, every note, every song- you felt him spinning a web around you like a spider trapping its prey, and you willingly anticipated the moment he would finally storm off the stage and drink you dry.
And that’s exactly what he did.
The last song ended, and Eddie wasted no time in ripping his guitar from his torso, handing it to a roadie without a second glance and grabbing you by the hand. You didn’t protest as he pulled you into a corner backstage away from any prying eyes. Before you could think a coherent thought besides Wow, I’m wet, Eddie took both your wrists in his strong, ring-dappled hands and slammed them above your head against the wall. His eyes, black with lust and wolfishly hungry, bored into yours as he used the last ounce of restraint to hold himself back long enough to ask the vital question, “Tell me, you want this?”
He bit the words out; growled them into your face as your eyes widened, desire painting your expression a gorgeous shade of pathetic as you nodded desperately. A deep groan sounded from his chest as Eddie pressed his pelvis against yours, and you gasped at how hard he was. “Words, sweetheart, I need you to say it.”
That familiar flare of indignation in your chest mingled with the flames in your core that burned for all he had to give you. Your eyes shifted, screaming rebellion that harmonized with the submission that your body so desperately craved. The corner of your mouth quirked up in a mocking half-smile. “Fuck yes, I want it, what do you think I was bouncing around out there for-”
His lips murmured a “Fucking Christ,” as he cut your sentence short, smashing his needy mouth against your burgeoning smirk. His arms crumbled as he finally felt the release of his skin on yours, caging you in as his forearms collapsed against the wall, hands still closed around your wrists. His biceps flexed, framing your faces as he all but devoured you in a kiss that was so wanting, so possessive- it claimed you. It ruined all kisses that came before it and would ever follow it. 
He was ruining you, and you committed the way his whole body covered yours and made you feel both safe and coveted to memory, imprinting it on your mind knowing that you would probably never feel this wanted ever again. 
Then, just as soon as he was on you, his touch lifted away. 
A needy whine escaped your lips before you could hold it back. Eddie slotted his tattooed hand into the space where your neck met your jawline, thumb caressing your skin as he smiled sweetly down at you- but his eyes were anything but sweet.
“I gotta go back out for the encore. Go take these off-” you melted into his touch as his other hand played with the buckles at the front of your top. His hand at your neck crept back, taking your chin between his thumb and the middle knuckles of his forefinger as if he were scolding a child.
“-and wait in your dressing room.”
Your eyelids were heavy, and you smirked as you opened your mouth to argue-
“And don’t fucking argue with me.”
You bit the reply into your bottom lip- you could save the brattiness for later. Just as Eddie had begun to pull away, his eyes dropped to your teeth on your lip and in half a second he was on you again.
He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue along the soft skin before biting down firm enough to set off your mental alarms yet soft enough that you didn’t feel any pain from it. He pulled away once more, letting your lip go with a little pop.
“Been wanting to do that all night.” Eddie said, his shit-eating grin back in full force as he winked at you and jogged back to the stage. You stayed put for a second, smiling like an idiot as you heard the roar of the crowd, imagining what Eddie must look like while he returned to the stage with lips pink and swollen from his attempt at eating you alive. No one would know why he looked out of breath and a little extra happy… but you would. 
You’d never walked as fast in your life as you did in that moment, making a beeline for your dressing room, fingers already beginning to work on the buckles at your sternum.
***
When Eddie opened the door to your dressing room about ten minutes later, the gigantic grin on his face fell instantly when he saw you lounging on the couch in the same clothes you’d been wearing during sound check, sans your oversized skull sweatshirt. Your black shorts and knit tank top still showed plenty of skin, but he had explicitly told you to take off your clothes and wait for him. You were still in the mood to brat out, apparently. 
You looked up at him from your phone, smiling sweetly with challenging eyes. “Hi.”
Eddie closed the door behind him, leaning against it as it shut. “Hi.” he mimicked, crossing his inked forearms over his chest. He stared at you silently, expectantly.
You raised an eyebrow, coyly pretending not to know what he was being so pissy about. “What?”
Eddie pushed off the door, walking towards you at a pace that was agonizingly slow. “You know what.” 
You huffed haughtily, looking back at your phone and pretending to be more interested in your screen than the man who’d had you panting up against a wall ten minutes ago. “Well that’s a little presumptuous of you, I’m not a mind reader.”
It didn’t take Eddie long to cross the expanse of your tiny dressing room, deftly sliding the phone from your hands and placing it on a low table beside the couch. “Should’ve known you weren’t listening earlier,” Eddie tsked and shook his head in disappointment. “I know you were a little distracted back there, sweetheart, but when I told you to take your clothes off, I meant it.”
You sighed as Eddie stared down at you from where he stood, towering over you as you laid back against the couch cushions. His gaze devoured you piece by piece as it roved over your wide eyes, glossy lips- your shoulders still shining from sweat after giving your all to the stage, your chest as it rose and fell with your quickening breath. 
“Well,” you purred, like a cat who knew they were the center of attention and didn’t mind it in the slightest. “You didn’t say not to put on clothes after I took the other ones off…”
As you spoke he leaned forward, placing a knee on the couch between your legs so that your heat was only inches from his thigh. His hands splayed across your rib cage, admiring the stark contrast between his ink-covered hands and your soft, cream-colored shirt. It was thin enough to see… wait, were you-?
Eddie smirked, a breathy laugh escaping through his nose as he pulled the fabric taut, confirming his suspicions that yep, you weren’t wearing a bra. 
Oblivious to Eddie’s train of thought, you continued, “...if you wanted me to just wait here for you naked then you should’ve been more specif-”
Rrrrriiiiipp!
Your jaw dropped, cold air hitting your bare breasts without warning as Eddie tore your shirt open. You squealed, your shocked voice jumping up several octaves. “Eddie!” but your eyes told a different story. You were pissed, but the anger you felt was nothing compared to how fucking hot he looked after doing something as dominant and unexpected as ripping your fucking clothes off. 
He raised his eyebrows, giving you a moment to push him away in case he had gone too far- but you didn’t. Instead, you narrowed your eyes up at him and crossed your arms over your bare chest, pressing your cleavage together the way you knew would drive him nuts. “That was fucking Gucci!” you pouted.
Eddie laughed, taking your crossed arms and shoving them up above your head over the arm of the couch as he mockingly imitated your high-pitched “‘That was fucking Gucci!’” he lowered himself over you, bringing his face to the hollow of your neck, and you heard him inhale the scent of you from your collarbone to your ear. He wrapped his lips around the underside of your ear and sucked, then bit, savoring your little moan at the sensation. His mouth met your ear as he growled, “Wouldn’t have happened if you’d just done as you were told, instead of being a little fucking brat.”
Eddie pulled back, sitting up on his knee that was still slotted between your legs as he cupped his hands around your naked breasts. He kneaded them, played with you like he was testing out a brand new toy. He addressed you without looking up into your eyes as he continued to paw at your chest. “You gonna be a good girl now and do what I tell you to?”
You raised your eyebrows, amused that he expected your submission so quickly. Smugly, you looked up at him through narrowed eyes, placing your hands behind your head like a pillow and sighed petulantly. 
“Fucking bite me.”
His eyes snapped up at you, thick with predatory disbelief at your cheek even when he had you half naked beneath you. He’d been challenged before, sure- but at this point, when he had his woman pinned down and moaning under him, he was usually the undisputed decision-maker during sex. The smile that bloomed across his lips was devilish, almost like there was a beast within him that had been kept safely under lock and key- until you’d said that. 
Eddie was on you, grabbing one breast and enveloping the nipple in a harsh suck of his lips, biting down on the little nub hard. You gasped, the sound a lewd, sharp moan that brought out a laugh in him so nefarious it gave you chills. He looked up at you with eyes alight with amusement and feral need that shook you to your core.
“Oh, baby-” he laughed, crawling up until his face hovered over yours. “-I’m gonna have some fucking fun with you.”
Taking your face in his hands, Eddie Munson kissed you like it was what he had been put on God’s green earth to do. His lips moved against yours with a beautiful mix of urgency and devotion, like you could just tell that right here, right now, there was nothing else he cared about except making sure you knew exactly how badly he wanted- needed-  to make you his. He slowly lowered the rest of his body until his pelvis was flat against yours, grinding into your clothed heat and exploiting the chink in your brat armor that was the his fucking size. 
You bucked your hips up into him, craving friction as you moaned into his mouth. Eddie chuckled, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “What’s the matter baby, you need something?” 
You pouted against him, moving a hand to reach between the two of you and palm him through his jeans, but he knocked your hand out of the way, continuing to dry hump you to insanity. You whined as he bit your pouting lip, sucking it into his mouth before his tongue slipped into yours. It explored you, tasting you as your tongue happily let him in. You felt his hand creep down your torso, giving your abused, bitten tit a little squeeze before traveling further down to the button of your shorts.
He undid the button with ease before you registered that he was taking off your clothes after he had denied you access to do the same to him. “Hey,” you panted, reaching for him, “you first, that’s not fair. I’m nearly naked and you haven’t even taken off your shirt.”
Eddie chuckled, tilting his head to the side as he feigned confusion. “Fair?” he asked, “Since when did you want to play fair?” He reached back down to your shorts, button already undone, and gently pulled down the zipper. “You were the one out there- as you said- ‘bouncing around’-” His hands raked up your thighs until they reached the hem of your shorts and slowly tugged them down as you lifted your hips slightly so he could remove them smoothly. Eddie smirked; NOW she does what I want her to do.  “-knowing full well I couldn’t do a damn thing about it… and that fucking wink-” His eyes rolled back in his head just imagining it. He groaned as he pulled your shorts from your feet and discarded them on the floor. “-what the fuck was that, huh? Trying to get a rise out of me, baby?”
You giggled, bubbly laughter floating into a breathy sigh as Eddie’s finger traced the line of your slit through your panties. “Hmmmmm, like it when you call me baby.” you hummed.
 He raised an eyebrow, “Oh you do?” His finger traveled up over the fabric, and he chuckled when you bucked up into his touch as the pad of his finger passed over your clit. That finger slipped under the elastic waistband of your panties, pulling it upwards off your skin as far as it could stretch. “You’re entirely too happy right now,” he stated, matter-of-factly. He let go of the elastic, making you jump with a breathy whimper as it hit your skin with a soft sting. “I’m switching back to sweetheart.”
You whined and he laughed as he continued to play with the elastic on your panties. He stared at them, entranced, before a wolfish grin took up residence on his face. “You like these?” he asked, and you knew where this was going right away. 
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. “How kind of you to ask this time.” 
The grin grew, and he took the crotch of your panties into his fist, grabbing the fabric above it with his other hand to do the same. You ground your hips against his knuckles as they brushed your pussy, already soaked and eager for any friction you could get. “Yeah, you know what,” he voiced, as if he were simply thinking out loud. “I don’t really care if you like them or not.” 
And with that, another article of clothing was ripped to shreds by Eddie Munson and his stupid, tattooed, ring-covered, sexy-as-fuck hands. 
This time you couldn’t even be offended; you were just fucking feral at this point. While he was still distracted by your panties, you quickly shoved yourself up to a kneeling position, startling him enough that he moaned into the fervent kiss that crashed into his mouth. The two of you knelt on the couch cushions, hands grabbing at fabric desperately in a quest to make your skin connect at every square inch you had. Eddie allowed you to pull his shirt over his head, and the shallow breath you had left was instantly knocked from your lungs when you took in the ink that decorated his torso. Some tattoos were old and faded almost blue, while others looked newer- song lyrics, mythical creatures, hellish images adorned his skin like a tapestry that belonged in a museum- but it was here, under your hands. All for you. You couldn’t hold yourself back from bending down a little lower, sliding your tongue up his sternum over the masterpieces scarred into his skin and licking a long, broad stripe from his chest until you reached the tip of his chin. You felt him shiver, arms tightening around you after shoving the remains of your tank top over your shoulders. You started to push him back, planning to open his pants and show him what else you could do with your tongue- but Eddie wasn’t about to let you be on top after the way you’d been acting all night. 
“Mm-mm, nope.” he mumbled, stepping off the couch.
“I’m just trying to suck your cock, baby. Please?”  You looked up at him with your best puppy-dog eyes, widening your legs as you knelt on the couch facing him, squishing your boobs together in that way that usually got you exactly what you wanted. For some reason, Eddie was immune. 
He placed his hand along your neck, thumb and forefinger squeezing just enough for him to feel your pulse. The way your eyes widened, looking up at him the same way you had when he’d shoved you up against a wall earlier- it brought a satisfied hum out of Eddie, and he loved the way he could feel your heartbeat quicken slightly. There was no hiding what you felt when his hand was wrapped around your throat. 
“You like calling me baby, sweetheart?”
You gulped. He felt it, of course, and he had to hold back a laugh- you looked so cute like this. Made him want to break you just to see what you’d be like when he picked up the pieces. 
Your eyes were blown wide, like a hunted fox with nowhere to run. “Is that okay? Can I call you baby?”
His face crumpled- god, you were adorable. Eddie smiled sympathetically, “Oh you can call me whatever you want, sweetheart-” His thumb moved up to your bottom lip, stroking gently before working it into your mouth; he groaned, head thrown back when he felt your soft, wet tongue swirl around his digit and coat it with your spit. 
“-don’t care what you’re calling me as long as you know I own your ass tonight.”
And then you moaned- oh, you fucking moaned his name around his finger in your mouth, and his cock twitched at the way it sounded. He wanted to record that, play it on loop, put it in a fucking song, hell- anything for him to be able to listen to it again and again and again. He wanted everyone to hear it, to know it was his name on your fucking tongue.
His thumb ripped from your mouth, replaced by his middle and ring finger, delving surprisingly deep into your mouth as you gagged around them. Your tongue quickly resumed its previous motions, lapping at his thick fingers and sliding over, under, around, between them. You reveled in the taste of metal as you tongued his silver rings. You gasped when he removed his fingers before, without warning, he slid them into your weeping pussy.
Your expression was beautifully obscene, eyes wide with surprise while your mouth- glistening with spit from his fingers leaving in a rush- fallen open in a silent scream. Eddie thrust his fingers up and into you repeatedly, forcing you open wider and wider with the rapid motion.
“Actually, I changed my mind,” Eddie grit into your ear, “I don’t wanna hear anything but my goddamn name leave that pretty ‘lil mouth until I’m done with you, aright?”
You were moaning, but evidently that was still not enough to deter you from being your snarky self. “Well that’s unrealistic, I’ll probably say more than just tha- ah! Oh fuck-!”
Eddie’s pace was relentless, fingers ripping through you with a vengeance as he muttered “Bratty little slut-” spearing you over and over as you sped toward the white-hot precipice that wasn’t quite release, but certainly what Eddie intended to pull out of you. 
You moaned as what felt like a dam within you suddenly gave way, flooding your inner thighs, Eddie’s hand, and the couch beneath you. Eddie smiled wide, the muscles in his arm screaming pointlessly- he wasn’t going to stop until you’d given him every last drop there was to give. 
“-yeah, not so bratty when you’re squirting all over my hand, are you baby? What, are you trying to say something? Spit it out, popstar-”
The noises tumbling from your lips were anything but coherent, Eddie knew that. He just kept grinning like a kid in a candy store as you babbled sounds that might have been his name, might have been a prayer, might have just been yes, yes, yes, Eddie, god yes! 
Whatever it was, it was music to his ears. 
Eddie looped his arms under your knees, pulling you into a sitting position with your legs wide open. Dropping to his knees, he stared at your spread pussy, glistening with the slick he’d just wrestled from you. His hands, wet with all you’d given him, grasped your thighs firmly but gently as he looked up into your eyes. It might have been the post-orgasmic haze you were experiencing, but for a second, Eddie looked at you with nothing in his eyes but care and admiration. His gaze shone like sunlight as he looked up at you, your stomach creasing from the crunch position he'd placed you in, your breasts rising and falling with each breath- the way he stared at you made you feel like an angel. 
“God, you’re fucking beautiful.” he whispered, hands squeezing your thighs affectionately. Before you could even react, his tongue was on you, lapping away at your soaked pussy. You mewled, head thrown back and spine arching as unraveled you from the inside out. He traced endless intricate shapes over your clit, your lips, your hole- thoughts flew from your brain as you let his mouth drive you fucking wild. His ministrations slowed at one point, causing you to open your eyes- you couldn’t even remember when you’d closed them- and look up at Eddie. 
Upon looking up, you were blessed with the sight of Eddie Munson, close-cut beard soaked with your slick, shirtless, pantsless, and currently pulling off his black boxers to reveal a cock that made you salivate on sight.
You let your brattiness fly out the window- there would be time for more of it later, but right now you needed that cock in one of your holes and you didn’t quite care which one. 
Eddie stroked himself leisurely, eyes boring down into yours the whole time. “Tell me what you want, babygirl.”
You spread your legs open wider for him. “Please.” you whined. 
Eddie shook his head, disappointed, sinking to his knees again. “See, this is what I knew would happen,” he murmured, sliding a finger around your clit at a torturously slow pace. “I can’t believe you got fucked stupid already and I didn’t even have to use my cock, those were just my fingers, baby.” From the slick sounds you heard from below your line of sight, you knew that he was jerking himself off as he played with your pussy. It was enough to pull a desperate moan from your throat. He licked one flat, wet stripe from your opening to your clit before murmuring against you, “Can’t even use your words and tell me what you want, sweet girl’s been fucked too dumb to make decisions, is that right?”
You found yourself nodding ‘yes’, the dirty words flying out of his mouth in rapid succession throwing your brain into overdrive. He was right; you barely had the brain capacity to think right now, much less match his attitude with snark. All you could do was stare up at him with wide eyes, waiting for whatever he planned on doing next. 
Eddie clicked his tongue, tilting his head as he looked at you pityingly. “That’s right, don’t worry baby I’ll just make all the decisions now, okay?” He rose, leaning over you as he placed a knee to your side and stroked himself, lining up his fully hard cock at your entrance. Your heartbeat quickened, excitement and anticipation building now that you knew his cock would be inside you soon. You mewled as his tip stroked your slit, up and down and up and down again… and stopping at your hole, hovering outside you. 
You looked up at him desperately, only to breathe in sharply upon seeing his devilish grin paired with coal-black lust-blown eyes. 
“Beg for it.”
You sighed so heavy it became a sob, frustrated and scrunching up your face like you were ready to throw a tantrum. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you whined.
“There she is.” he murmured.
If looks could kill, your glare would have sent Eddie Munson to his deathbed. He matched it with a condescending smile that spoke volumes of the power trip he was on right now. Leaning in slightly closer, he repeated himself. “Beg, sweetheart.” 
You narrowed your eyes. “No.”
Eddie shrugged, backing up just enough for his cock to leave your skin- you knew it was over from there. 
“Wait!” you cried, eyebrows drawing together desperately under his cocksure gaze. Christ you didn’t want to beg, but you might not have a choice. Eddie waited patiently, stroking his cock absentmindedly as he watched you squirm below him. 
You looked up at him, giving him your best ‘fuck me’ eyes. “Please fuck me Eddie.” Your voice was honey sweet, soft and submissive.
Eddie crouched down, sticking a finger in his mouth before he used it to play with your pussy, stroking circles around your clit and pumping it slowly in and out of you. “Aww, baby…” he crooned before narrowing his eyes. “-we both know you can do better than that.”
You groaned, back arching as your hands fisted frustratingly into the cushions. “Eddie, pleaaasse-”
“Try harder, sweetheart.”
“Fuck, Eddie you fucking prick, just fucking fuck me, please, I need your cock-”
Eddie smiled- that was good enough for him. “‘Atta girl.” he groaned deeply as he pushed his cock into your waiting hole, your thankful moan mingling with his. 
His dick was perfect, filling you deliciously and long enough to just hit that spot beneath your clit that made your nerves go berserk. You didn’t realize how loud your moaning was until Eddie shut you up by covering your mouth with his own, swallowing down every sound you made and repaying you with noises of his own. 
“God, baby- so fuckin’ tight-”
You moaned, squeezing him as his cock speared you again and again. You were so built up between your squirting earlier and Eddie’s talented tongue- you were already getting close. 
As if he could read your mind, Eddie grunted out as he continued thrusting into you, “I’m nearly there already, baby, you gonna cum with me?”
You whined, nodding ‘yes’ as he pacified your mewling with his thumb. You lapped at it lewdly, covering him with a thick layer of your spit before releasing it with a pop. Eddie brought it down to your clit, working gentle circles around your bundle of nerves as his thrusting picked up the pace. You squirmed under him, chasing your release as you listened to the filth that poured from his mouth while he fucked the living shit out of you. 
“Jesus, fuck, so tight- my sweet girl, gonna fucking ruin you. Gonna make you come undone on my cock, just a fucking mess, gonna cum so hard on my cock-”
That last thing he said seemed to jerk him back into reality- his eyes grew wide, snapped out of his high as he looked down at you. “Shit, I don’t have a condom…baby, I’m so sorry, shit, where should I-”
You reached down, raking your nails softly over his hips. “I’m on birth control.” you said, smiling calmly. You kicked yourself for being so eager; normally you would still insist on a condom even with your implant, but Eddie just did something to you. “You haven’t been fucking any random groupies, have you?”
Eddie huffed, his laughter strained by his fast-approaching orgasm. “You’re the first in a while, angel. Last I checked I was clean, but I can still pull out if you-”
“Inside.” you whispered, grasping his ass and pulling him deeper into you. “I trust you, Eddie, I want you to fill me.”
His movements stuttered, big brown eyes wide and watching you like you were a miracle unfolding underneath him. He was still for half a second before his thumb resumed its movements over your clit as he thrusted faster, harder than before.
“Oh fuck, you want me to fill you baby? You want my fucking cum?” 
His cock speared into you as deep as it could go, Eddie’s attention to your clit driving you over the edge with relentless speed. “Yes, I want it Eddie, fuck, I’m gonna-”
“Fucking take it baby, cum on that cock.”
Eddie groaned as you clamped down on him, his seed spilling inside of you while your pussy fluttered around him. You arched your back until your face was pressed into the cushions behind you, muffling your whimpering voice as you moaned his name. 
A few moments passed, the air thick with the sound of heavy breathing and the smell of sex, before Eddie slowly pulled out of your wet heat. You laid there for a moment before you felt Eddie clean his sticky spend from your thighs and ass using a tissue. 
“Normally,” he said gently, “I would use a warm washcloth to do this, but we have limited options.” 
You sat up as he finished, smiling up at him playfully. “That sounds nice,” you said, “maybe I shouldn’t have listened to you earlier, made you wait until you couldn’t take it anymore and just whisked me off to your place.” 
Eddie sat down beside you, pulling you into his lap. He looked up at you with nothing but content sweetness in his eyes, any trace of the feral dominance from earlier gone for now. “I mean, we can still do that.”
You beamed, “Really?”
Eddie scoffed, tugging you closer. “What do you mean, ‘really’? You think I need to be desperately horny to want you in my bed?” 
You felt your cheeks heat up at the mention of his bed. “I don’t know… I guess I didn’t know if you wanted this to just be a one time thing, or…” You trailed off, unsure of what Eddie’s expectations had been for what happened after.
Eddie’s eyebrows drew together, confused. “Sweetheart,” he said, his finger tracing circles on your thigh affectionately. “We can hash out details whenever you’re comfortable… but tonight? I would count myself a very lucky man if you came home with me tonight.” He touched his forehead to yours, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose. “Okay?” he asked.
You looked down, suddenly shy upon hearing his honey-sweet words. You gave him a quick peck on the lips before looking him in his big brown eyes. “Okay.” you whispered. 
Your eyes stayed connected, melting you until your lips met his again, kissing him sweetly as his hands worked their way to your ass, squeezing as he sighed into your kiss.
“Alright,” he grunted, playfully slapping your thigh as a signal to stand up. “Let’s get you dressed.”
You giggled. “In what? You ripped up all my clothes!” you held up the shredded panties, shaking your head in disbelief.
Eddie shrugged, stepping into his boxers. “I didn’t rip up all of them, don’t be so dramatic.” He picked up your shorts, tossing them to you. “Just go commando with the shorts and wear your sweatshirt, no one will know.” 
You sighed, stepping over your torn Gucci tank top and retrieving your bra from where it sat neatly folded in a chair. Eddie looked over his shoulder at you as you began to put it on and gasped. 
“You did have a bra!”
You smirked, reaching behind your back for the clasp. “Yeah… I wanted to see your face when I wasn’t wearing one.” 
Eddie shook his head, smiling like an idiot as he buckled his jeans. “Unbelievable.” he chided, “Was it worth it?”
You tugged your sweatshirt over the bra, taking a few steps in Eddie’s direction until you were close enough to snake your hand around to the back of his neck and pull him down for one more kiss. When you pulled away, Eddie looked down at you entranced, blinking rapidly as if emerging from a dream. He could only describe the feeling in his chest as complete and utter euphoria. 
You grinned up at him, eyes alight with adrenaline that still lingered from your performance onstage and absolute infatuation with the man before you.
 “So worth it.”
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icanhearcolors · 6 months
Note
I really love the idea of Tav drawing Astarion to show him what he looks like, could you maybe write something about that? ^-^
Hiiiiii! I can indeed thank you for the request :b
Welcome back to another episode of Abby tries to write something short and can't make it less than two thousand words.
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EVERYBODY LOOK AT THIS GIF CUZ KJNKBJHGFRRETFO
Sorry I think I got possessed for a second there
Word count: 2.1k
The night sky had never been this gorgeous in the city. In Baldur’s Gate, the upper city was illuminated by mage lights that adorned the cobblestone paths. The light was bright enough that the citizens split into two factions, the night life and the day. Even those without dark vision could operate solely at night in total comfort if they chose to. In the lower city, fires were always burning, sending plumes of rich smelling smoke into the air constantly, obscuring the night sky.
But out here, under the blue light of a full moon, you can see every star and constellation in vivid detail. A soft purr-like snore hums against your back, and you brush a hand over the downy feathers of the owlbear cub you rescued from the goblins. He was getting so big. If he gets half as big as his mother was it is going to become a challenge to travel with him. It’s a sacrifice you’re more than willing to make. Besides, you could always cast the reduction spell on him in a pinch if any problem arose. He sleeps curled around your back, alongside his friend Scratch the dog, whose fluffy white head is resting in your lap.
The campfire crackles a few yards ahead as Wyll adds a few logs, humming a Baldurian tune you recognize but can’t quite recall the name of.
For the first time since the nautiloid crash you feel peaceful. Safe.
You turn your gaze to Astarion’s tent, probably for the thousandth time tonight, and stare at his profile as he flips through the pages of the seemingly sentient necromancy tomb you had discovered a few tendays prior. A faint green light curls from the pages like mist, illuminating half his face and casting the rest in shadow. You’d never really understood the saying “so beautiful it hurts'' until you met Astarion. An unknown emotion compresses your chest in a way that makes it hard to breathe sometimes when you look at him. You think it started out as empathy. Every detail of Astarion’s story he revealed to either warn you about vampires or shock you for his own amusement painted a picture of a horrific life full of trauma and misery that you found hard to reconcile with your enigmatic companion. He was always the first to crack a joke. He laughed loudly and on a constant basis. From an outsider’s view he’d appear almost carefree. Happy even. You wondered now how much of that laughter was real, and how much of it was the armor he’d donned a couple hundred years ago when he breached the surface of his own grave. You recall a conversation you had with him a while back about vanity. In his two hundred and forty years, give or take, he’d only been able to see his reflection for thirty nine. An incredibly young age to die for a high elf, and a small fraction of his life-span. Even if any fuzzy memory remained of that past life, it was no longer accurate anyway. 
He was something different now. 
Your eyes slide to your pack. You had found something yesterday- something rare indeed. A merchant selling art supplies outside of the city. You had everything you needed to give Astarion something you took for granted every day. His reflection.
Slowly, both as to not disturb your sleeping friends and not alert the elf in question to your actions, you slip a hand inside the bag. Your fingers find a pencil easily, the paper next, and you begin to draw. At first you draw him as he is, using his current unmoving form as a model, but you had been quite the artist in your time in Baldur’s gate, and you finished that drawing almost too quickly. So, you draw him again from memory, this time with his head thrown back, face scrunched with laughter. Then you draw his frown, his smirk, the condescending expression he so often gives Gale, the softer one you don’t quite understand that he reserves for you. You don’t hide or downplay his vampiric traits. You draw him exactly as he is, blending colored chalk to capture every shade of red in his eyes. Time falls away as you lose focus on everything but your work. Eventually, some time much later, the cramps in your muscles wake you from your trance. You stretch, and your knees, shoulders, and spine crack loudly. Scratch wakes up, stands, shakes himself off, and trots into the bushes. Your owlbear notices, and trills a soft sound before standing too, following him into the woods. You smile as you watch them amble off, happy they get along so well. You turn back to your drawings and examine them with new eyes. You expected to feel excitement, pride maybe, but instead a cold feeling ties your insides in knots as you realize you can never give these to Astarion. The drawings are some of your best work, but they’re also… reverential. A glimpse of Astarion through your eyes. Anyone who saw them would think you had drawn your lover, not your less-than-trusting involuntary traveling companion. He would take one look and realize exactly what you’ve been hiding from him since- well since you met him. You were infatuated with the vampire, and somehow, miraculously, despite the fact that you’d slept with him once already,  he seemed to be unaware.
He was going to find out.
You eye the campfire, half tempted to toss the whole pad of paper into it.
In your panic you turn your gaze toward Astarion’s tent.
He’s not there. 
His tent is open, and no one is inside it. You can see that from here. 
Somehow- maybe it’s the tadpole, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent so much time with the rogue, you realize you know exactly where he is.
Slowly, as if to avoid instigating an attack from a stalking predator, you turn your head to find Astarion standing behind you, peering over your shoulder.
Even though you were expecting it, you still startle out of your skin. Astarion drops to his knees on the ground in front of you and claps his hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your screech. You both look at eachother with wide eyes before turning slowly and in unison towards a sleeping Lae’zel. She’s frowning in her sleep, which isn’t unusual for her. She twitches, and then rolls over to her other side, sound asleep. You sigh in relief, through your nose because your mouth is still covered by Astarion’s hand. You swat it away and throw him a withering glare.
“What the in the hells is wrong with you?” You whisper-shout.
Astarion presses his lips together and turns his head away from you for a moment, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
“Oh yeah, laugh it up. If she’d woken up we’d be dead right now.”
“Look it’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention. You haven’t moved in almost four hours, I wanted to know what you could possibly be writing.”
You clutch the drawing pad to your chest and swallow nervously, eyes darting around for any glimpse of something you can use to distract him.
Unfortunately as you’ve come to realize, regardless of what they used to be, once turned vampires become lethal predators. Astarion sees your darting eyes, catches the scent of your fear, and you see the shift in his demeanor. 
His movements become slower, more fluid, as he tilts his head in malicious curiosity.
He reminds you sometimes of the big cats that roam the mountains of Faerûn. Once something captures his attention, there’s little use in trying to pull him off the hunt.
Still, you’re going to try.
“I’m not writing.”
His eyes flick to your hands, dusted in red powder, then back up. He hums.
“Drawing then. What have you been drawing Tav?” 
His voice is darker now. Persuasive. 
“It’s- uh… personal.”
Astarion lowers himself fully to the ground and stretches his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his arms. 
“A personal drawing?” He purrs, “Well now I have to see it.”
“No-” You cover your face with your hand, “That’s not what I meant and you know that Astarion.”
A moment of silence passes, so you lift your hand away from your face.
Astarion is gazing at you with that unknown expression again. His eyes look earnest, a soft smile on his lips, when he speaks the words that are your undoing.
“You can trust me, Tav. I already know how talented you are, you don’t have anything to worry about. Just show me.”
You sigh, and his smile grows. He knows he’s won.
Bastard.
“Fine you can see my drawings, but I need to tell you-”
The drawing pad is already out of your hands, your permission apparently all that was keeping Astarion from snatching it away from you.
Your heart stops at his first look at the paper. He stills, flipping through the drawings slowly, his eyes tracing every detail with excruciating slowness.
Finally, he puts you out of your misery.
“I-” He clears his throat, not meeting your eyes. “These are...”
He grips the paper tightly when you attempt to take the drawing pad back from him. You’re confused, and a little… well actually very hurt for a reason beyond your understanding.
Does he hate it? Did you overstep?
“What are you thinking?”
Astarion finally looks at you, his expression guarded. He points to the drawings.
“Who is this?”
Oh.
You’re shocked silent. You should have anticipated this. Of course Astarion wouldn’t recognize himself in your drawings. That was the entire reason you drew him in the first place.
“He’s um-” You fall silent again.
Astarion looks both terrified and heartbreakingly hopeful. You’re sure he already knows the answer. You’ve spoken to him at length about what he is. You know that he knows he’s the only vampire spawn you’ve ever met, and you’ve been traveling together without much separation ever since.
He still needs to hear you say it.
You stare at your wringing hands in your lap and take a deep breath.
“I remembered that conversation we had about how you don’t know what you look like, you just have to go off of what other people tell you, and I bought these art supplies earlier and I haven’t drawn in so long, I used to all the time but with everything that’s going on- and I meant to just draw you once but I wanted you to know what you looked like when you smiled too and then I got a little carried away I’m so-”
You don’t hear him move. Your rambling speech stutters to a stop at the sensation of a hand on your cheek. Astarion hooks his thumb under your chin and lifts your head just enough to press his lips to yours.
Your eyes widen in surprise and then flutter closed. All thoughts cease, replaced by a languid warmth that melts you into a puddle on the ground.
You tilt your head and kiss him back, a tingling sensation racing down your spine. His hand slides from your cheek into your hair, and he gently pulls your head back, deepening the kiss in a way that steals the air from your lungs.
All too soon he pulls back, just a few inches, and smiles.
A real, genuine smile that shows his teeth and lights his eyes. You think you would do terrible terrible things to see that smile more often.
He brings his other hand up to frame your face, holding you in place as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away.
“Thank you.” He says simply, his voice hoarse.
“This is a gift. I won’t forget it.”
He repeats the words he said to you what feels like centuries ago, the night you found out he was a vampire and agreed to feed him. 
“You’re welcome.” Is all you can think to say.
With absolutely no warning at all Astarion drops his hands to your shoulders and yanks you toward him just in time. A pillow, rather violent in its velocity, grazes the back of your head in its catapult into the forest. Somewhere in the dark woods, Scratch yelps.
“Next time it will be my sword Isticks”
Growls Lae’zel from her bed roll on the other side of the campfire.
You turn back to Astarion with an amused but also terrified expression, and he smiles knowingly, rolling his eyes.
He picks the drawings up off the ground from where they’d been scattered at some point and gathers them in one hand. He stands, hoisting you up with his free hand, and practically drags you across the camp to his tent.
You’ll have to draw him more often.
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808len808 · 4 months
Text
Breaking point
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!Pupppy Leon S. Kennedy x Gender Neutral Reader!
Summery: Your poor pup was to scared to tell you that he's going into heat.
Authers note: I don't know what this is, I wrote half of it while I was drunk and the rest I wrote in the span of a month so the first part of the story is a bit messy, but I promise it gets better. !Disclaimer: by puppy Leon I mean a hybrid, I do not support zoophilia!
!Warnings!: Nsfw themes, "Reader" can be all genders.
(Words: 4,405)
(sorry if it's cringe 😭)
The summer had ended, well at least the vacation. it was the most awesome vacation of Leon’s life! You were home every single day, he went where you went day in and day out. To the park, lake, and forest, but also at home. He got all the attention. But now you had to leave for work again for 5 days a week from 9 to 5 and he was stuck at home, waiting for his precious owner to come back.
He spent most of his time just lying down in spaces where your scent was strongest, couch, bedroom, those spots. Usually, he’d stay on the couch sleeping or thinking about you, how you would greet him with a smile when you came back, how you would pet that special spot between his ears, his tail already started wiggling at the thought of it. 
Fuck, this was too hard. He looked at the clock; only 3 more hours, but for him it felt like years, mostly because he couldn’t sleep anymore, and because he really had to go out for a walk. 
He got up from the couch and went to the kitchen to see if you had accidentally left any food for him to grab, but unfortunately nothing, he could try to stand up and grab something from inside the cabinets, but then he would feel bad for disobeying you, then he wouldn’t be a good boy.
Ever since the summer vacation, he felt the need to be around you so much stronger, he felt the need to be with you at all times, to receive praise, to be held, to be cradled, and most importantly to please you. 
His ears perked up, suddenly feeling something in his stomach, it was weird, he went over to your bedroom your scent only growing stronger just like the feeling on his stomach. When you first adopted him you didn’t let him into your bedroom at all hoping to make a clear line between owner and pet but along the summer that line started to fade. The few nights he would spend the night curled up against you on your bed were the best.
He felt incredibly proud even thinking back to one of those nights, just sleeping next to you, your fingers going through his hair until he fell asleep. 
A huff grasped through his nose whiffing up your scent, his nose going up in the air. A small shiver went down his spine as he continued sniffing, trying to pinpoint the strongest scent, it was a whole different scent that he smelled, it reminded him of sweat but different much nicer, much more attractive, like it was pulling him towards itself. 
He followed his nose eagerly, coming to the bathroom connected to your room, he stopped in his tracks. He’s never been in your bathroom. He stared at the scary door gulping, he still had plenty of time before you would arrive home, but he already felt bad contemplating breaking your rules, well you never specifically said he couldn’t go in there… the times he tried, you had told him to wait outside or wait in the living room because you were having “alone time” whatever that meant. 
But now he was alone, he took one glance behind him, checking if you hadn’t suddenly come back. Luckily you didn’t, so he went in gently opening the door. It was just a regular bathroom, shower, toilet, sink with a mirror, so where did the scent come from?
Leon’s eyes scanned the room until he spotted the hamper, placed in the corner. He quickly hopped his way over, looking to claim his price. He stuck his nose in the pile of clothes in the hamper, all yours and a few of his garments. 
He never used to wear clothes, it wasn’t normal for hybrids to do, but since he was more on the human side -the only dog thing about him being his tail, ears, and senses, having human parts, and being able to do human things, he could walk and talk but it was just a harder to do so, he preferred not to but ever since he got off the streets, and adopted you learned him to do so,  also made him wear clothes. He still preferred to be shirtless so he would crawl his way out of them every chance he got.-
anywayyyy back to the story.
His hands mixed in throwing things away until he found the source, one pair of underwear more specifically your underwear. He happily took it in his mouth without a single thought. Proud to have found what he was searching for he went back to his crate, taking the used garment in his hands as he laid on his soft mat sniffing it until he dared to lick. An intense feeling sent shocks through his body, he felt something beneath him twitch. He didn’t register what happened. A breathy huff escaped his lips, but it sounded more like a whine. Hot flashed his face, taking another lick just to test if it would happen again, it did. 
His belly tingled a small sense of excitement filled his mind, he continued to lap only making the ominous feeling between his legs grow nose buried in the piece of clothing, curled up in his bench. 
He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep when you came back, he excitedly sprung up, tail wagging behind as you turned the key into the lock greeted by Leon’s big blues you closed the door behind you before getting down to pet him, he eagerly leaned in your touch small puffs leaving his nose as you pet his head to the place between his ears back to under his soft jawline. 
“I missed you so much!” Leon excitedly told you almost panting. 
He looked so excited you felt bad stopping now, you walked over to the couch, Leon almost blocking your way by circling around your legs. “Come here,” you giggled as you invited Leon to the space next to you on the couch. You didn’t have to tell him twice, he immediately jumped to the spot landing half on you in an over-enthusiastic way, he pushed one hand on your thigh encouraging you to continue petting him, which you gladly did.
“I was sooo lonely, I missed you so much, it’s so boring without you! I’m so so happy you’re back!” Leon rapidly bladdered making you chuckle a bit, he was always so energetic which could be tiring but you didn’t mind right now, it was actually kind of nice to have someone who was always excited to see you. 
Minutes passed, and he was still pressed against you talking your ear off with things he had thought of today, your petting eventually slowed into soft strokes, Leon’s tail slowed down as he ran out of things to say a big content smile on his face his ears were back eyes closed almost purring into your touch. So relaxed. 
It was all your normal routine until you spotted something particular, your underwear, in Leon’s crate. Your brows furrowed looking back to the innocent puppy next to you. After a bit of thinking and mostly contemplating what to do about it you got up from the soft cushions. Leon perked up confused at the loss of touch. He saw you walk over to his crate crouching down to examine your piece of clothing like it was a crime scene. 
“Leon? What’s this?” you asked looking over your shoulders to meet his worried eyes. He knew that look, and immediately he was stressed, Oh no did he do something bad? He really didn’t want to be a bad boy! What did he do?!
Leon tilted his head in shame not wanting to respond. Not knowing what to say, scared he would make it worse.
“Come over here,” you ordered, your voice rather sweet than commanding, hoping to not worsen Leon’s nervousness any further He hopped off the couch and did a small walk of shame to the crate, tail tucked between his legs, next to where you were crouched he sat down, trying to prove that he was still a good boy. 
“Well?” you started to get impatient. The scared dog avoided your eyes, going back to the now wet underwear. “I-… I just missed your scent…” Leon pleaded, looking up to you trying to win you over with his sad puppy eyes. You narrowed your eyes thinking of a way to teach your pup that this wasn’t okay, but you just couldn’t find it in you to punish him, until he spoke up again. 
“I just- it tasted so…good” Leon explained further as if it would help him, it didn’t, in fact, it did the opposite.
The gears inside of your head finally spun. Your scent, he wanted all your attention, the way he pawed at you all the time, this wasn’t a pet owner situation, he was attracted to you. 
You gulped deeply staring into Leon’s eyes, nothing but innocence and worry, the poor thing probably didn’t even know what he was feeling. Your lips pressed together into a thin line, you needed to stop this before it got out of hand even when you felt bad doing it. 
You picked your undies up, moving to stand up. Leon stayed down his eyes following your every move. “Leon,” you started putting away your feelings, you needed to set boundaries, you needed to be responsible here. “You can’t pick up my clothes, those are mine, not yours.” He looked down at his hands, anxiety spreading over his face, but you weren’t done yet he needed to learn there were consequences to his actions.
“I also do not want you to go into my room or the bathroom while I’m not home.” He absently nodded seeming like he was at the brink of tears for being called out alone. “Now I know you hate this, but you need to learn that there’s consequences to your actions.” His head shot up, panic in his eyes as you strictly pierced his eyes with yours. “no-no-please,-I’ll be good-I’ll never do it again-please,” he tried but you didn’t budge you stood your ground while pointing at his cage, Leon already knew what was coming to a terrified look on his face -god he is so dramatic- as you pointed to his crate. 
“No-no-no!”He franticly shook his head. “please, I don’t wanna go!” He pawed at your ankles pleading. You stood your ground. “Leon,” you warned, he knew he was only making it worse by begging but he really, really didn’t want to go on the crate. “Please-I’m sorry- I’m really-sorry- please!” He looked at you from where he was sitting his bottom lip trembling as he felt his eyes start to water.
“I’m not going in! I can’t- you can’t make me!” He raised his voice, which made you glare down at him. Immediately his ears went down as he felt himself cripple under your glare. 
“Bad. Boy. Go in your cage.” Tears started to fall you felt guilty for hurting your precious pup, especially about making him cry, but you didn’t let it show, you stayed cold and emotionless. He let out a small whimper as he obliged, unable to deny your order, he looked back almost betrayed, like he hadn’t had this coming. 
“It’s just for the night,” you said as you closed the bench trapping Leon in the iron bars, a soft mat, and a blanket on the ground (because you are not a monster) his fingers clamped around the bars. You left, you had eaten out, so you didn’t have any more business in the living room. You made your way back to your bedroom, throwing the clothes Leon had spread across the bathroom back into the hamper, throwing away your underwear later. 
So there he was, he had been so excited to be around you all day, and he actually could do that right now, be curled up against you snuggling but no, instead he was trapped in this cage, this prison the restraint that kept him from going to you. He sighed feeling betrayed in some way. He didn’t understand what he had done wrong, of course, he knew that picking your clothes was wrong, but getting punished for it, that’s a bit too much.
You never punished Leon ever, so this was really strange. Leon was confused but mostly felt bad, so very bad for making you disappointed in him. He curled up on the crate hugging the blanket in sorrow pretending that it was you as the last lights went out. 
-
The morning came agonizingly slow for Leon, the lack of sleep making him hump up as you entered the room, he sat up tail already swooshing side to side regardless of his exhaustion. You walked in your pajamas to his bench Leon’s fingers grasping the metal begging for his release. 
You kneeled down to his level, right in front of him. “Are you going to be a good boy?” you asked tilting your head in a questioning way, he nodded as fast as possible. “Talk,” you demanded. “Yes, yes I’ll be good,” he begged, half shaking the bars, you complied unlocking his “prison”. 
He almost jumped onto you making you sit back down on the ground. “I’m so sorry- it will never happen again, I promise, I promise,” he repeated over and over again as he tried to get you to hug him, you let out a breath chuckle and complied, “It’s okay sweetheart.” You pet his head to which he smiled even more leaning in your touch as he always did. 
And there it was again, that funny feeling in his stomach. At first, he thought it was just hunger, but the more you pet him the more he wanted to stay closer to you, press against you. The arousal pooling in his stomach stayed even when you pulled away, even when you fed him, even when you went out for a walk, and even when you left for work again. 
Leon was left alone with that unfamiliar feeling in his stomach leaving him to do the figuring out, Leon lay on his signature place on the couch. You had bought him a book for him to read. A simple book, just to help Leon fit in with the human side of him, also forcing him to walk upright on his feet when in public, he found it hard and tiring but he wasn’t about to disappoint you, not after he already did. 
So maybe that was why he was picking up the book, and starting to try and read it. It was easy enough. As time passed the feeling in his stomach tightened, like his organs were tormenting him. It wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, more like a neediness for something, only he didn’t know what. 
It came to the point where he couldn’t focus on the words anymore, his problem shadowed all his thoughts and made sure it was impossible for the poor pup to think straight. The only thing he noticed was that his pants felt small, smaller than usual, even when he had gotten used to them by now, they suddenly felt too small.
Leon frowned putting the book down to finally try and do something about his problem, he looked down to check if he could see anything from the outside. His face lit up as if he had just opened the previously used oven, and slapped the heat in his face, down his body making his skin tingle.
His hands followed the skin of his stomach expecting to find some kind of bruise or lump, but nothing only hot skin. His hand found its way to his pants to see if he could feel anything there. He let out an embarrassingly loud whine as he felt the bulge tenting his pants. His eyes dared to look down, only gasping at the sight, his hands weren’t betraying him, there really was a huge bulge. 
Contemplating what to do he experimentally cupped it with his hand through his pants, a whine even louder ran over his tongue, so hard that he swore he could hear it echoing through the walls.
But it felt good, it felt sensitive, but in a good way, in a very very good way, he has to feel it again. He slightly squeezed the bulge making his stomach turn in a way that felt so satisfying he couldn’t help but double over. 
Leon could feel his body trembling not used to these sensations at all, but he couldn’t stop, he started to create a small friction for himself, trying to satisfy this overwhelming need he suddenly felt. 
His hips involuntarily jerked up in his hand making his crotch throb as a whine left his mouth, his eyes closing in concentration trying to find whatever he needed, but it was hard to think, he felt so powerless, so desperate for something, but what was that something? 
Leon’s hand slightly sped up making him pant. His whole body felt on fire, so hot, he felt the need to take his suffocating clothes off but was too overwhelmed to do so. 
He kept going his legs trembling hands shaking sweat making everything stick together, but it still wasn’t enough, Leon didn’t understand, he never felt this, and frankly, he didn’t understand one bit of it. 
Eventually, his member felt like it was going numb. Leon desperately kept going even when it was starting to hurt, but to no avail, it just wasn’t enough. His hand stopped and so did the friction, his thoughts coming back to him together with a worried feeling, what even was that? What happened? He was left feeling guilty somehow like he did something shameful even when it felt so good. Was it bad? Was Leon doing something bad? 
He started to feel stressed, it feels bad now… and he really didn’t want to disobey you again especially when he was already put in the crate yesterday. Just then the lock turned, Leon’s ears perked up he hadn’t even smelled you, his arousal taking up all the scent in the room. 
Leon quickly jumped off the couch tail turning into a blur by how hard it was wagging. He was more excited than ever to see you. He whined a bit as he struggled to walk over to the door, the now painful bulge rubbing against his pants, he needed to get them off but that was not the priority right now. The priority was you.
You opened your front door, Leon’s face immediately greeting you, you always loved to come home to him, and his sweet smile, it grew only brighter as he saw you. (2 meninges 😧😏) 
“Hi! how’s your day?” Leon immediately spoke as you walked in hanging your coat up and sighing not noticing Leon’s state.
“It was fine” you shrugged putting away your shoes and patting Leon’s head. “How about you, have you been a good boy?” You said grinning as Leon grew red. “Mhm, I’ve been good all day,” Leon answered only it was a lie, a lie because he wasn’t a good boy. He did something new and it felt bad so so bad and he was scared to tell you. What if you’ll put him in his cage again? He’d rather lie than be imprisoned again. 
You walked over to the kitchen picking out food from the cabinets. “Yeah? What you do all day pup?” Leon followed you into the kitchen looking at the ingredients you put on the marble countertop. 
Leon thought his tail still rapidly swinging behind him. “I read like you told me to.” Leon smiled sheepishly at you ignoring the pain he was feeling downstairs. He could ignore it, he would ignore it for you. 
But eventually, you break, eventually, you burst, as any normal person does. A pup can’t hold something that big from you, and hide his pain…
His breaking point came at midnight. 
He was happily cuddled by you, he adored being small spoon. Until he woke up, drenched in sweat, panting, every piece of skin sticking to something. Leon groaned the world coming to him as he awoke his eyes and mouth dry. Waves of pain hit him from his crotch through his legs, a small whine escaped as he looked down, it was still the same, it was a wonder you hadn’t noticed yet. 
Leon’s whole body was in a state of fight or flight his senses heightened. He couldn’t take this anymore. He whined again as he stood up, legs trembling under his weight as he made it to the bathroom. He felt like throwing up. He struggled to grab a hold of the sink hoping for some stability but the cold on his sweaty hand only made him hiss. 
He was hot and cold at the same time, was it some kind of fiver? No this was different much different. Another wave of heat surged through Leon’s body his face red his lungs having trouble keeping up with his heavy breathing. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, his eyes caught glimpses down his body but none registered. With whines still leaving him he clawed at his clothes trying to wiggle his way out of them. The pants dropped to the tiles and so did his shirt everything was off but still he was as hot as one can be.
It was all too much and what was worse was that he didn’t even know what was going on. At this point Leon didn’t care if he got sent to his cage he just wanted the pain to stop nothing else mattered. 
He shook as he stumbled back into the bedroom. “Leon?” You asked just woken up as well, squinting your eyes to make out your pup’s features. His breath and his whimpers together with Leon not responding got you worried. “Leon, are you okay?”
“Please,” he whined collapsing next to you on the bed. “Please what? What’s going on?” Your voice continued to grow more and more worried. You turned and switched the light on, and there he was in full light his chest heaving up and down sweat dripping down his face, his ears flat on his head. His eyes closed tight his eyebrow furrowing into a painful look. 
With one glance down everything became clear. “Oh, baby,” you muttered softly. He was going in heat. “What’s wrong with me?” Leon choked out. “Nothing sweetheart, nothing at all,” you reassured brushing strands of hair that stuck to his face away. 
“I’m going to help you okay?” Leon nodded frantically in response tears brimming his eyes as tears slowly fell down his face, landing on the pillow, your sweet pup, he must be in so much pain for so long, poor thing was suffering in silence all this time and you hardly noticed. 
He was squirming waiting for you to do something, to do anything, anything to make the pounding in his head go away. His consciousness almost faded when you scratched behind his ears making his tail wag despite the pain he was in. It thumps against the white covers beneath him with it forming a small smile on your face.
“You’ll be fine sweetheart, I’ll take care of you,” you cooed softly multitasking as you moved your hand down his sticky body going gently over all his shapes and moles, going over the small trail of hair leading to the source of his problem. His hips jerked up a few times as you did. 
His cute little cock stood high and proud, pearly beads leaping down his length it was a beautiful sight. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve admired your pet for hours like this but this was a case with urgency and there was no time to spare.
Leon’s eyes shot open when you wrapped your hand around his base, a hand flying up to your shirt to take a handful of the soft fabric. “Wh-what?” He looked up at you with big eyes then back to the scene, blinking. Before he could do or say anything else you stroked up and down again. Leon quickly deflated, eyes rolling back as his head fell back into the pillow. Whines and whimpers fell from his mouth as you continued.
You started off slow so he could catch up with you twisting your wrists a few times and pulling utteral moans of pleasure from him. His plump lips kept parted eyes half-lidded going down and up with the movement of your hand and then to your own eyes. He strictly held on to your shirt as if his life depended on it his grip only growing stronger with every stroke of your hand. 
“Hmm-s’good-please-nhgh,” incoherent mumbles escaped his lips it was adorable. His pitch went up only higher and higher to a point that you almost couldn’t recognize the vulnerable voice of your pup. 
You sped up, his hips struggling to keep up with your pace, his eyelids scrunched together, you grabbed the hand holding your shirt and wrapped it in yours intertwining your hands while the other was cramping on Leon’s puppy dick. His tail was rapidly moving the sheets his ears perked up straight into the air. 
“Ah-wait-!” You didn’t react or wait instead you did the opposite only going faster. Leon let out a gut-wrenching moan his voice cracking into a whimper multiple times as he came white sputtered all over his stomach, continuing to drip down the white sheets as more continued to flow and coat your hand with sticky white ropes.
You slowly stopped, leaving his cock flat, Leon hesitantly opened one eye before the other a sit he was scared but he only saw your sweet smile. Before he could open his other eye you had your clean hand which was previously holding his, in Leon’s hair. “Good job Leon” you comfort his ears immediately twitching as you did. 
A cheeky smile was returned his cute bright eyes staring at you with excitement. “I did good?” He sat up slightly, the bed dipping in weight as he did. “Yeah, you did amazing sweetheart.” You cupped his cheek he sighed and closed his eyes, his body turning soft in your touch. 
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tayyytayyy12 · 4 months
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👋🏽 hey!! can i request a lando fic?
theme: fake dating / friends to lovers
Lando and y/n are best friends. They have always had a platonic friendship but his fans always ship them when she appears for races or are seen hanging outside.
Lando has a history of getting into bad relationships which destroys his public image. His PR team and family are desperate to save that image and suggests that he and y/n date for a year since the public like them both tgt. Though y/n is skeptical about the idea, lando is secretly happy about it because he does have a crush on her and hopes that this relationship will end up becoming real.
Though they only have to act like a couple in front of the cameras, they slowly start behaving like one amongst their friends and family.
Although they had a good time acting like lovers, by the end of the year, the deal has come to an end. Y/n wants to end it to save her friendship but a desperate lando confesses his feelings.
You can choose how this ends! 🧡
This is actually so perfect.
(Quick note, I’m working on requests as quickly as I can I’m sorry if I’m keeping you waiting for yours.)
Pairing - Lando Norris x Reader
Genre - Fluff, fake dating, best friends to lovers, angst
Warnings - Swearing, Reader is oblivious.
In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman
“I’m sorry what?” You choked on your words, not quite believing what Lando had just said, what he had just asked of you.
You and Lando had been close friends for years, you met through your friend Lily and from there on the two of you had been inseparable, but obviously nothing comes without cost, the cost in this situation being the constant accusations that you and Lando were more than just friends, you couldn’t even be seen within a centimetre of each other without someone snapping a picture and posting it with a caption about how you was an adorable couple.
It was also no secret that Lando didn’t have a squeaky clean record when it came to relationships, most of his either ending badly or spanning the duration of one night, and in no way shape or form was his PR team happy about that, so they had concocted a plan, one which you wasn’t a fan of, at all.
The plan was this, it was a known fact that everyone adored the idea of the two of you together, so why not give the people what they wanted, you and Lando would ‘date’ for a year. Obviously it would be fake, but only a few selected people would know that, the deal was you singed the contract and you and Lando acted like a couple for the season and at the end brake it off due to ‘Unknown complications’.
“Look, Y/n I know it’s a lot to ask of you, i understand.” Lando said calmly from his seat as his eyes followed you as you paced back and forth in his living room, his PR team said he should as you in a private environment, to avoid being seen or heard by anyone.
You stopped your pacing and looked him dead in the eyes, “Do you understand Lan? Cause I don’t think you do. You know I would do basically anything for you, right? But this means putting my own life on hold for an 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳. I wouldn’t be able to date, I would have to lie to some of my closest people.”
“Yes, Y/n I know that, I really do and I know I’m probably one of the most out of order people on the planet right now to ask you to do this for me,” he said as he stood up and placed his hands on your shoulders, “But I have to ask you, so please, help me out. I swear I’ll do anything for you all year, and after the season,” he sighed, “I know you have no reason to, that I’ve put myself in this situation, but I would rather have to fake something like this with one if my closest friends then some girl who has gone through endless interviews and lessons to learn every little fact about me.”
You sighed and thought about it, your love life wasn’t going anywhere as is, and Lando was one of your best friends, you’d be helping him out tremendously.
“Who would I have to lie to?” You asked quietly.
“What?”
“If I say yes,” you said looking up to meet his eyes, “who would I have to lie to?”
Lando sighed, “A lot of people, Y/n.”
“Like who, Lando?”
“The only people I’ve been allowed to tell is Carlos, Max and my mum and dad.” He mumbled under his breath.
“So I could tell my mum and my sister?”
“Yes, but that would be it, no Gracie, Lily,” and when he noticed your confused face he said, “I know it’s unfair that Carlos and Max and you can’t tell Gracie and Lily, but I didn’t make the rules, love.”
You looked down in though for a second, before ultimately settling on your decision, “I’ll do it.”
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You singed the contract the next day, you was now, officially, on paper at least, Lando Norris’ girlfriend. You had informed you mum and sister about the arrangement a few hours you had agreed to it, and let’s just say that your mum wasn’t exactly happy about it.
“You’re stopping your own life for a entire year for this boy, Y/n!” She said to you after you had explained the idea to her.
You sighed, “Yes, mum I know. But Lando’s my best friend.”
“So what? I don’t go around going out with all my friends on contracted relationships.” She said.
“Yes mum, that’s because all your friends are forty five year old married women.”
The woman sighed before looking you dead in the eyes, “Fine. But if this goes wrong you tell Lando that your grandfather has a antique shotgun collection and some still work.”
“Alright mum.”
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A week later was when Lando’s team decided that you would officially launch the relationship. They had made a reservation at an exclusive restaurant and made plans for paparazzi to turn up when you was leaving, a simple plan really.
Lando had picked you up from your house wearing an expensive looking suite, with a nervous look on his face,
“Don’t be scared, Norris. It’s only dinner.” You said as you sat in the passenger side of the car.
“I’m not scared about dinner, love. I’m scared about how the public will take it. I don’t want anyone to hate on you like they’ve hated on my partners in the past.” He said as he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel.
“Hey Lad, it’s okay,” you said calmly, “I know what I signed up to when I read the contract.”
“Swear?”
“I swear.” You said with a smile as Lando continued the drive, the two of you sitting in a normal, peaceful silence.
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Dinner ran smoothly like you had expected, it was just like when the two of you would go out together before this whole relationship fiasco, it was the leaving that was bumpier.
“That was fun,” Lando said, “except for the large range of sea food fancy places like this have on their menu, it’s disgusting.”
You was going to respond to his statement, except something in the corner of your eye caught you attention, causing you to grab Lando and make both of you stop in place.
“What’s wrong?” He asked confused.
“Kiss me.” You said hurriedly.
“What?” He asked as his eyebrows shot to the top of his head.
You rolled your eyes, “There’s a big man with a big camera about ten feet behind us, so I assume that’s the call your team put in, so, kiss me or they’ll think we’re just having dinner as friends again,” when he stood there in shock you mumbled, “Now lando, I’d prefer if we dine this as few times as possible.”
Your words seemed to snap him out if a trance, as he placed his hands on the back of your neck and kissed you deeply, knocking the breath out of your lungs, as you returned it.
A few seconds later, he pulled away, leaving you both breathless and him with lipstick smudged all I’ve his face, “Think that was good enough?” You said as you rolled your tongue over your lips.
He nodded rapidly, “Yes, yes. Perfect.” He said or more like stuttered
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It has been a month since the media ‘leaked’ your relationship with Lando, and a month of pure and utter chaos. The fans had gone crazy when they saw the photo of you and Lando kissing, they was obsessed with it, and luckily that was the result that Lando’s PR team had wanted. So, they played it, they would make you and Lando be seen holding hands together, at restaurants, going in and out if each others homes.
In the past month you had though you’d learnt everything you needed to know about Lando through the endless hours upon hours the pair of you had spent with one and other, but, their was one, very large detail you was still painfully unaware of.
That detail was that Lando, you ‘boyfriend’ your bestfriend, had the biggest crush known to man kind on you, and the more time the pair of you spent together, the more it intensified. He was becoming completely mesmerised by you, the way you laugh, the way you’re always looking for good in every situation, and little did he know, you was slowly but surely feeling the same.
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Today was a very important day for you, it was your sisters birthday, and knowing her seventeen year old self she begged for you to bring Lando along, promising that you wouldn’t have to pretend there because it was all trusted people, so, reluctantly you agreed.
It was halfway through the night when you and Lando had ventured off alone into a quiet corner of the loud party, and it may have been oblivious to the two of you, but your sisters and Carlos’ eyes were glued in the pair of you, as they tried their best you listen into your conversation.
“You look beautiful tonight, love. I’m serious.” Lando whispered as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, as you blushed lightly but tried to hide the fact that you was flustered.
“Thank you, Lan, you look amazing as well, real gentleman, would never be able to tell that you stayed up all night playing call of duty when I was staying at yours.” Yous said with a small laugh.
“That only happened once,” He said with a pointed look making you both laugh, “And I apologised to you with McDonald’s breakfast, so you have to forgive me.”
You rolled your eyes and nodded with a smile, “Oh absolutely, Mr. Norris.”
He laughed and pulled you into a hug, resting his head on top of your own as you both looked calm and peaceful with one and other.
“Oh they definitely like each other.” You sister said with a smile, making Carlos nod, “Most definitely.”
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Today was the day, the day you and Lando would finally be free of the contract that bound the two of you together for the past year, and you wasn’t sure how you felt. On one hand, you was relieved that you could just go back to being friends, but on the other hand, a part of you was yearning for the future of your romantic relationships to have Lando in it.
It was three in the morning when you heard loud pounding on your first door, at nine you was supposed to go with Lando to his PR team to brainstorm a way to announce the split to the public.
You tiredly wobbled to the front door, still being in a sleepy haze, when you pulled it open you was surprised to see a sweaty panting, Lando standing there.
“Lan, it’s three in the morning what’s wrong, why are you sweating?” You asks with a yawn as Lando walked into your apartment,
“I need to tell you something,” he said as he paced back and forth in your living room, “I need to tell you something right now, so desperately that I ran all the way here.”
You looked at him, beginning to feel worried, “Lan, what’s wrong you can tell me anything, y’know that right?”
He stopped his pacing and looked at you, really looked at you, admiring you even, eventually he swallowed the visible lump in his throat and said, with a dry, crisp voice, “I love you.” He whispered, “I’m so in love with you that I couldn’t let you end your contract and us just going back to being friends without saying anything. I’m so in love with you that whenever I get a podium your face is the first I look for in that crowd, I’m so in love with you that it physically fucking hurts to keep it all bottled up anymore.”
You stood there in shock, mouth hung open at Lando’s raw confession, “I know that’s a lot to spring on you Y/n, I know that. It’s just the thought of you moving on after the end of the contract with some fucking unworthy man who doesn’t even know your Starbucks order off by heart.”
“You memorised my Starbucks order?” You asked with a small laugh.
He smiled, “Of course I did.”
You didn’t know what to say, so you walked up to him and hugged him tightly, he returned it instantly, burying his face in the familiar, welcoming sent of your hair, “I love you, too.” You whispered, making his squeeze you harder against his chest as he placed a firm kiss to the top of your head.
“What’d you say, love? Make this real, make us real. Not bound by a shifty piece of paper, let me show you what I’m really like, how I could really treat you.” He asked in a whisper.
You looked up at him and smiled, “I like the sound of that a lot, Mr. Norris.” He didn’t need to say anything in the moment, you both knew it, he just leant down and kissed you, but this time if felt different, it felt real.
After all the years of hiding his feelings from you, you was finally here, officially his girl, and he was going to show you exactly how much of a gentleman he could be in a world of boys.
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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months
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I know there’s a human resistance rebellion they could probably snatch some baby humans from or something, but what about like human breeding or something? is that a thing in this universe? Since they’re more akin to pets I was wondering if there was some sort of like human breeders.
Since there’s also like selective breeding for pets there could also be selective breeding for only the most fertile humans (even if it technically doesn’t work that way). They might not even keep the males, it could be like how they just harvest sperm and artificially inseminate them?
Just worldbuilding from your silly local rice ball lover 🍙
That's a really good point, thank you, Onigiri anon!! Yes, some humans are kept as nothing more than breeding mares to move humans. Unfortunately, in the initial uprising, a large population of humans, especially the most vulnerable ones, were killed by monsters, hunger, and the elements when the civilization fell into dystopia for the first time. Monsters quickly learned that just killing every human they see isn't really a viable scenario, and someone had to pick up where the others have fallen. Men and women are both viable for reproduction, esp for species that lay eggs, like Konig or Gaz. With monsters of egg-laying type, no matter if they are birds or reptiles or sea life, they are using humans as incubators, since they need warm and soft bodies for the eggs to nourish on. It's more like a reverse seahorse situation, when you're inserted with eggs, but don't really have a genetic intake on how the babies are going to turn up. There is a chance of a more traditional pregnancy with children resembling both parents, but it's extremely rare and frowned upon by monsters - after all, humans are deemed inherently weak by any monster. Selective breeding saves both male and female specimens, as long as they have more advantages to raise the monster brood properly - I imagine wider hips, softer bodies in general, resilience to pain, and the submissiveness that gets really stuck in their heads as a result. With humans sold in pet shops, it's no wonder that some monster species are taking their role as caretakers and raisers of new human generations for further breeding - as fucked up as it might be. some humans get released by human resistance, although if a person comes from this indoctrinated, monster-pleasing background, they wouldn't be able to survive in the wild, in most cases. Also as a fun fact, humans have much larger life spans than any human would - Konig can easily clock up at least 100 years and more and more, as long as he isn't killed - but the thing is, that human's biology gets irreversibly changed after a prolonged and repeated exposure to monster semen. Our poor breeding wifey, she doesn't even know that aging isn't a problem anymore( death of old age isn't going to help her get free of Konig, they have mated, and she will be alive for much, much longer, her life span increasing with every time an egg or semen gets deposited in her.
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undercoverpena · 5 months
Text
i. to fix a porch
joel miller x f!reader | chapter one of honey stained hands
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chapter summary: it’s why he allows himself the chance to look, to admire. His hand slides in yours all over again, as you offer your name—dutifully exchanged. and all he can think is, you’re a pretty thing. He’s seen pretty, laid with it lifetimes ago, but there’s something different in you.
wordcount: 3.5k warnings: typical canon-angst. my spelling. joel trying to fit in and be good for ellie. an: i am so nervous about this. i hope you like. huge thanks to @guyfieriii + @thetriumphantpanda for holding both my hands.
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The world had gone to shit, but the world hadn’t gone to shit.
It still grew, expanded—and changed.
Just as it once had. The grass didn’t stop turning green. The trees didn’t stop rustling, the flowers didn’t stop pollinating between bones and disintegrating fabric.
Nature, in all its immensity, didn’t bow to the cordyceps that stole minds and whispered destruction along roads and grass. Nature didn’t allow the rot to take the seasons, as it had done with so many other things.
The end of times wasn’t allowed to touch the moon’s schedule. It didn’t have an impact on how the daylight grew shorter and the night span longer. It had no bearing on the way leaves turned golden, the dew appeared on tall grass, or how both danced under amber-rising and lemon-setting suns.
The outbreak took souls, but it didn’t rid the craved scents of stews and freshly baked apples—two aromas that flooded Jackson's roads.
Mostly, even if something else thrummed along the ground, and spoke in claimed lives, it couldn’t try and claim to have any effect on the way frost made the morning path glitter—or how it made the world still feel magical.
Fungus had stolen a lot. Had spread its poison across state lines and once happy towns. But it couldn’t thieve the natural beauty that shifted in three monthly turns.
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He wakes in a sea of sweat, panic and desperation. Forehead clammy. Salt and pepper hair clinging in thin spider-leg lines against the creases of his frown.
Each morning, since Joel has been here, has followed the same pattern. The shadowy nightmares were still there, ever-present—swirling and twirling, not ready to stop their dance. Even if the sun is blasting through, informing them it’s morning—it’s the time their claws should retract and allow him to experience a new day.
They never really do. They remain, hanging in the edges of his thoughts, his eyes—even as sleeping thoughts diluted into the present day.
Just the same as he did yesterday and the day before, his closed fist rubs in gentle circles against his chest—right over his heart. Where it thumps and beats, hammering quickly. Fingers and palm attempting to soothe it, half-wishing he could weave under milk-white bone and release the guilt-wrapped tendrils around it.
It doesn’t matter what his routine involves, it’s all in vain.
Little to nothing alleviates it. Not the circles of his hand over the bobbled t-shirt he sleeps in or the way he wills himself to breathe, to fill his lungs—advice given against his will.
Joel has attempted a lot of things, but the tightness always remains. The imaginary vines forever constricting, all stemmed with thorns, digging in, tightening their hold as he struggled to gasp, never mind breathe. It’s like a fungus of its own, a thing poisoning him, ruining him, blackening what’s left of his soul.
All because he made a choice—one he’d make a thousand times (if given the chance).
Blinking, he slowly sits. Back aching, body groaning as the honeyed sun coats the place he calls his. It flutters over the set of drawers, the flannel draped over the handle of his closet, and the strings of the guitar, gifted by Tommy to keep him busy and out of trouble.
It’s a good place he’s found himself in. A normal place—one found in the centre of moving on and trying to live life. Something he gives enough of a shit not to let it be torn from him and a thing he worries is being tugged from his grip all the same.
One wrong move.
That’s what he hears, even if no one says it. It never leaves their lips, but instead is etched into the faces of everyone he has been introduced to. It was discernible on his sister-in-law's face when he and Ellie appeared; it was poorly concealed by his brother when he’d handed him the instrument.
So much so, that he’s become worried all of this—the safety, the future for Ellie—will be taken from him if he breathes wrong. If he makes eye contact a little too quickly, a little too sternly, too forcibly and not followed quickly enough by a half-smile.
He tries. Not for him, but for her. The same person he keeps his jeans close by and his t-shirt on for—the one that makes him sleep on the side so his good ear can hear a scream of his name—just in case. The same person who manages to shift off the worry, dusting him down without knowing the impact she has on him—the young person who forms him, shapes him into someone half-decent, who is willing to try, who is willing to do things with his hands that isn’t fighting or shooting.
The only time Ellie has shouted for him since being here, though, is for breakfast.
Now, the house is silent—too silent. A smile almost appearing all on its own. An image bubbling, appearing, blanketing over the nightmares that tried to linger. One of her, in her new bedroom—the one she keeps talking about painting—all asleep, mouth open, catching flies.
Joel snorts, swallowing it back. All of the darkness that is weaved inside of him. Focuses on the little flecks of dust that glitter in the glow of a new day, how they fall absently in the space between light and dark—making a choice, one he makes each day, to be here. To try.
His hand slides from his chest, landing on his wrist. Sighing, he closes his eyes and lets his thumb slide over the broken glass of his watch—the one he never removes—another thing he does daily. Another thing that has become a routine.
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He knew what Jackson was when he arrived the second time. A communal, a place where everyone chips in.
Joel had expected something more to be requested from him. Almost braced to be told he would be stationed on the other side of the gate—in a more permanent role than others. But, he wasn’t.
If anything, he was given tasks.
Menial things, but tasks all the same.
Little jobs, all reminiscent of a handyman back before things to fungus and rot. Oddities, bits and bobs. Projects half-finished or never begun at all—assigned, handed to him, chosen for him because he’s there and capable. And not, as Tommy explains, is because no one trusts him.
The first had been his own porch. The wood split, cracked, creaking—an accident waiting to happen (a thing he’d muttered to Tommy when he’d first walked up the steps of it), more so as the days became shorter and the nights loomed closer.
He shouldn’t have been surprised to find a toolbox placed at his feet the next day. A smug look on his younger brother’s face: think it’s time y’fix y’damn porch, brother. A clap on the back to cement it, a promise silently exchanged—that he could ask more of him when he was done.
And Tommy did, just not how he expected.
His breath mists the same as Tommy’s when he sighs, the weather biting as the two hovered on his newly repaired porch: got something else for you to do.
Maybe he should have said something when the silence filled the air when Joel suggested after. That he’d be good on patrol, that he could help in ways that weren’t repairing porches, front of shops and whatever else he brought to his door. If not for the fact he was grateful for the chance, for her—for the girl who is slowly making friends, who is beginning to smile—he may have done. The old Joel would have. He’d have pointed out that his skin isn’t stained with scarlet, that his hands are worn, but not smeared with the guts of those who’d crossed him. That he’d hung up as much of the former demons as he could.
He suspected, deep down, that Tommy could still see them haunting him. Knew that they kept him awake when the world went silent—that Joel didn’t sleep until the moon was at its highest, and woke with them jeering at him, perched on his shoulders, poking holes into his soul.
Joel also presumed that Tommy could see the way guilt had looped itself inside of him, strangling, making truthfulness harder to spill. Even if Tommy had no idea. Even if Joel hadn’t whispered to even the animals, never mind a person, what happened before he and Ellie had arrived.
So, he doesn’t argue, not as he’s handed another task, and another, then another. Days seep into weeks, weeks ticking into another month. Each time, his jaw grits, and his head nods, all well-versed, practised, as he picks up his toolbox and heads where he’s needed.
Except, today, when he’d finished up the fence that contained the sheep, a request came from someone else—a person he had spotted, but never spoken to. They were weary, guarded—approaching with caution as though bracing for him to snap, to become the callous individual they’ve likely heard through the whispers of gossiped stories.
In time, they approach, asking, burying their hands into their pockets as they do, before they continue with their reasoning for the request—one not for themself, but another person in Jackson.
A person Joel realised was his neighbour.
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He’d been a good neighbour once, almost a lifetime ago.
Had hoped that it would come to him when Tommy had introduced him to you the following morning after he and Ellie returned. Your hand in his, smaller, but warm, a smile that was inviting, but slid over to Ellie upon Tommy’s introduction.
You usually rose early, that he had learnt when he’d begun to watch the sunrise before the leaves not just changed, but began to litter the floor in an array of shades. A pattern of habits he had picked up when he’d descended his own staircase, finding you already passing his home or your lights were on, already busy ticking off the hours of your day.
Today, he’d spotted (thankfully) the latter. His coat was thrown on, boots stepped into, toolbox in hand before he closed his door behind him and headed over. Your name on the tip of his tongue, all heavy, thick—an array of unsorted letters he’s hoping will shift into something as he climbs the steps to your front door. The syllables there, desperate to form, but in no order when his hand lifts to knock.
Air is what greets him, as the door rips open before his knuckles can even make contact.
Now, he’s standing in front of you—again. Your eyes land on him, brushing over in thick strokes of warmth, and all he can focus on is how you don’t step back in fright or stand a little taller. If anything, you don’t react, don’t move, as though it’s normal he’s there standing, talking to you.
“Oh, hi? It’s Joel, isn’t it?”
It’s kind, sweet, your tone. Eyes wide in a way that reminds him of a surprised, small animal—except, you’re grinning, not spooked. No sign of fear or question sketched across your features, or into the rest of your face, not as he stands, hovering.
It’s why he allows himself the chance to look, to admire. His hand slides in yours all over again, as you offer your name—dutifully exchanged.
And all he can think is, you’re a pretty thing. He’s seen pretty, laid with it lifetimes ago, but there’s something different in you. Something that has remained, that has weathered the storm of whatever it is, and however you came to be. Your smile rises, sliding into your cheeks, as his brain snaps a Polaroid of it and stores it somewhere less dusty in his mind.
“I just have to nip out, do you need something?”
Your hand sliding a jacket—one he’d just noticed in your hand—around your frame. It buries you, smothering, hiding yourself into it as you pull it around, watching, studying him as he does the same to you.
Shaking his head, he glances at your porch. “No, ma’am. Jus’ here to fix your porch.”
Sighing, you roll your eyes. “I make one comment and… anyway, I don’t want to trouble you. You don’t have to.”
“Maybe I want to.”
Looking down, you stare around at the porch. Him waiting, watching. “Guess it’s lucky for you, I wasn’t planning on taking it with me.”
It tugs from him, not forcibly pulled, but rather rolling from his mouth willingly: a laugh. It’s gruff, covered in cobwebs and sheets. It’s different, laughing with an adult compared to a pun book in the hands of a child.
“Well, definitely makes my life a bit easier that you’re not.”
Smirking, you lick your lips—a thing he spots, and finds makes his cheeks burn. “Yeah, guessing that following me around the animal pen wouldn’t be your favourite thing… after the other day.”
His eyes narrow, attempting to follow—until it dawns. Until it slams into him.
“You saw.”
“I did. Roscoe is a very boisterous sheep, though. So, it’s more on him than you.”
Cursing under his breath, he dips his head. Trying to stifle the embarrassment, the one rising in him like a phoenix, swarming up.
“Anyway, do you need any tools…”
That’s when he notices how your voice dies, your smile fading. Your words all fall from existence as the warmth around the two of you suddenly chills, as though he’s been plunged into a snowstorm. Your eyes had dropped, landing on the box in his hand.
It’s long, too long.
Almost prolonged, the quietness shifting into awkwardness until you’re blinking, head lifting, chin rising, determined and full of insolence.
“I’ll be back soon, yeah?”
Nodding, he swallows. Ignoring, for your sake, that your voice cracks before you’re hurrying past him. Watching, and staring until you’re a blip, a little figure in the distance of the cold morning—unable to forget about it, the look, the one that unhooked something in him.
Because it made him question—made him want to ask.
His hand shifts around the handle of the toolbox, staring down at it—the one he suspects belongs to someone you knew, someone you were close to. One that is in the hands of someone you don’t know, someone you live next to, that you know nothing about.
Except stories.
And fuck, Joel knows the stories can’t be good.
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Joel had maybe made an assumption that you’d never speak to him again.
Sarah’s voice, barely discernable, wafting around his mind, assumptions make an ass of you and me, dad. He blamed it on being bitter, tired—or grumpy, as Ellie liked to call him. The kind of qualities he’d rather be known for, than the ones he sees reflected in the eyes of the people living here, wondering the kind of man he was to go back out there and then return.
He’d made the assumption based on the way your eyes flicked to the toolbox when you’d eventually returned home—him halfway done, waving away your offer to help. You barely spoke, and skirted around him, only placing a glass of lemonade on the welcome mat as you wrapped your arms around yourself.
He drained the glass, and hated how good it tasted. Keeping in mind to leave the toolbox outside when he rapped his knuckles on your open door to bring the glass back in, inform you that he’s done. You call out to him, eventually coming into view—apron on, doused in flour, cheeks and smile smothered in it.
For a moment, he could almost forget an outbreak had even happened with the way you looked at him—the way you looked in general. Something out of one of those cooking shows that play at ridiculous hours of the night; a thing that’d had a street talking about with sweet you sounded.
“I bake—sometimes,” you announce, hands down your apron, leaving flour-finger strokes against the navy blue.
He could see that. Placing the glass on the side, thanking you—watching you glance around him, likely for that. He almost tells you, informs you it’s outside, left on your porch. But, he waves himself off as a beeping begins, that he’ll get out of your hair, because you’re busy—knowing deep down it’s the right thing to do.
That’s how he left it.
Nothing more, nothing less.
His thoughts sliding to you when he saw you talking to others; his mind unable to rid himself of the way you’d looked at the box he’d been given to be a helping hand.
So, it surprised him when he watched you climb the steps of his porch from outside Tommy’s. Something in his chest narrowing—different from the way it does when he wakes up in the morning. Observing how you’re nervously shaking your free hand, moving from one foot to the other—a thin t-shirt covering your frame (no coat or jacket on your arms) as you try to stand still in the chill at his dark doorstep.
It’s only as he nears that he sees what your other hand is holding. A bottle, the contents from appearing amber in shade. The hesitancy woven into your figure is more prominent as he reaches his own boundary, unsure whether to clear his throat—and only doing so when you knock.
“Heard he’s out fixing more porches.”
Turning, he finds you smirking. Spinning around on your heels, slowly taking a step down—still above him—before your hand gestures for him to take the bottle. “A thank you.”
Thank you, he thinks, staring at it. His thumb catches your fingers as he tries to ignore the twist and knot of his stomach when he eyes the label. It used to help, for all the wrong reasons. It’s why he’d tried not to drink since arriving here, still able to remember how it used to scratch an itch, how it smothered over scabs—ones that never healed.
It unlocks that part of him that worries that they’ll become inflamed again. All raw, hot to the touch.
“Y’didnt need to.”
“Well, it was alcohol or baked goods—and you strike me as a drinker over shortbread.”
Snorting, he lifted his head, swallowing. “I do like shortbread.”
Your face lights up—shimmers—under the slowly setting sun. A part of him wishing you’d brought him a tin of those instead.
Because the main reason he hadn’t been to the Tipsy Bison is that he preferred the version of him that didn’t drink. The one from before all of this happened—the one with a clearer mind. One that isn’t trying to run but rather settle and live—the one that comes out when he tastes something akin to what he shared with Tess.
The bottle in his hand demands his attention—a note attached to it that reads the same as your words. Gratitude humming, rolling from you, all in plenty. The entry at being neighbours suddenly ajar, the door taken from the hinges so it can never be closed again.
“Next time, then?”
You say it purposeful, full of genuine nature. And, it makes him roll his jaw, biting the inside of his cheek. Palm and fingers still clutching the bottle—unsure if he likes this. The neighbour thing—the pretty neighbour thing. Especially one who looks at him with a sweet smile and who makes lemonade just because.
“I should go, don’t want to interrupt your evening—”
“Well, the only thing you’re interrupting is whether or not I should open this now or wait.”
You stop moving at that, coming to a stop in front of him, smile broadening, almost turning into a smirk. “
Rubbing the back of his neck, he sighs. “Got another job in the morning. Be a lot on my own.”
“What problems to have, ay?”
He snorts.
But then, he finds you nodding, licking your lips. “How about this, for the safety of the porches of Jackson, I’ll help you with your problem.”
“And what’s my problem?”
“You don’t wanna drink alone—likely worried about what it means if you do.”
You say it nonchalantly, as though seeing through him was a relatively easy task. Your body is still not moving; the cold either not bothering you, or you are faking it all so well.
“Alright.”
“Alright,” you say, slightly more chipper than him.
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CHAPTER TWO ->
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