#Big Brother US 21 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jaeyuniversal · 3 months ago

Text

you broke me first - l.hs

pairing: virgin!lee heeseung x experienced fem!reader

synopsis: you and heeseung are the school’s golden pair — popular, admired, and constantly shipped. the only problem? you can’t stand him. from competing on exams to gym class, you’re always neck and neck, and no one gets under your skin like he does. but while you see a rival, he sees the love of his life. when you overhear a hushed conversation that breaks you, will heeseung be able to win you back?

featuring: all of enha, winter from aespa, yuqi from (g)i-dle, and keeho from p1h

genre: angst... slow burn, some fluff, kissing, skinship, SMUTTTT, college au, first love trope?? sorta? one sided enemies to lovers

warnings: smut so mdni (18+), alcohol consumption, vandalizing property, Sexual Tension, everyone is around the same age (21-23), lowercase intended <3

playlist: you broke me first by tate mcrae & what was i made for — billie eilish

(smut warnings under cut!)

wc: 13.271k

a/n: first fic is here! plsplspls leave feedback as anything helps!! was listening to you broke me first and got inspo for a kinda angsty fic pls bare with me :3 anyways! enjoy the read <3<3

smut content: mention of toys (but no use), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex (not for you), dry humping, switch! hee and reader, riding, mating press, too much kissing, masturbation (m.), breeding kink, slight dacryphilia, oral (m. & f.), deepthroating, belly bulge, creampie, size kinkish, big dick! hee, not much aftercare but it's like fluffy, y/n has a “reputation” that she gets around, VIRGIN HEESEUNG (but no one knows…) i think thats it? lmk if i missed anything ◡̈

not proofread!

lee. fucking. heeseung. you hate him. you can't stand him. he always knows what to say just to piss you off. you might be wondering, "why don't you just try to avoid him?" the issue is... you do. you try with ALL your power but to no avail, he's in the same friend group as you.

your friends, knowing you hate him, decided to combine friend groups to see if you and him could mend things. spoiler alert: it failed miserably.

you felt safe in your small circle with keeho (the man you deemed to be your biological older brother — you aren't related), yuqi (your junior high best friend), and winter (your literal wife).

you guys were well known around the entire city of seoul for being the "it group" — always partying, hooking up, and somehow still acing every class (while nursing massive hangovers).

however, heeseung's friend group consisted of the golden boys in decelis university: park jongseong (known as jay, he hates his given name), sim jaeyun (known as the australian transfer student, jake), park sunghoon (the insanely hot figure skater), kim sunoo (the bubbliest person you've ever met), yang jungwon (the boy with feline features, however you've made a special note to never piss him off cause he has a black belt), and nishimura riki (known as ni-ki because he wanted to be different).

you loved riki. he was like your younger brother — chaotic, blunt, and always three steps ahead of everyone. you’d even joked once that if you had to suffer heeseung’s presence, at least you got riki out of it.

unfortunately, riki had the worst habit of instigating chaos.

“truth or dare?” he asked one friday night, grinning like he already had your life planned out. everyone was crammed into jay’s ridiculously large basement, music low, snacks half eaten, and bodies sprawled on beanbags and plush carpet.

you should’ve said “truth.” you knew you should’ve. but you weren’t a coward.

“dare,” you answered, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

the group erupted in ooooh's in perfect synchronicity.

riki’s grin only widened. “i dare you to sit on heeseung’s lap for five minutes.”

you almost lunged across the room.

“riki,” you hissed, “you are so dead.”

he just wiggled his brows suggestively. “i’m a baby. you wouldn’t hurt me.”

the worst part? he was right.

you looked over at heeseung, who was watching you like a cat watching a cornered mouse — lazy smirk, fingers casually drumming against his knee. “scared, sweetheart?”

“i’ll kill you in your sleep,” you said sweetly as you stalked over and dropped yourself into his lap like he was made of cardboard and air.

he oofed, not because you were heavy, but because he wasn’t expecting you to actually do it.

“wow,” he murmured, lips near your ear. “you smell like citrus and bad decisions.”

you resisted the urge to elbow him in the ribs.

five minutes. you just had to survive five minutes.

but then his hands casually settled on your waist, and you felt it — the spark. the electric, traitorous, goddamn spark that told you this was a very, very bad idea.

because maybe, just maybe, your hatred wasn’t as pure as you thought- no. what are you thinking??? you immediately shook the feeling that was buzzing inside you and blamed it on the alcohol swimming in your blood.

you definitely. hated heeseung. yup, yeah, you really did.

heeseung on the other hand? he was just praying to every god he could think of that you couldn't feel how sweaty his palms were getting.

because he was panicking. full blown, internal screaming, oh-no-she’s-sitting-on-me-and-she’s-warm kind of panicking. he hadn't expected you to actually follow through on your usual threats, much less practically straddle him in front of your mutual friends.

but now? now he was just trying to not pass out from the sheer force of your perfume and presence and the weight of years of unresolved tension that sat heavier than you ever could.

"you're sweating," you said flatly, side eyeing him with that expression that usually meant murder or mockery — or both. "you good?"

"totally," he croaked. "i always nearly die when beautiful people threaten me. it's, like, my thing."

you blinked once. twice.

"did you just call me beautiful?"

"i said what i said," he muttered, then immediately regretted everything.

your brows lifted in slow, dangerous amusement. "you feeling okay, heeseung? you hitting on me while i’m threatening you?”

“wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, almost too quiet for you to hear.

and there it was again. the spark. like a lighter flicked too close to your frayed nerves.

you looked away, choosing to focus on literally anything else, but his grip on your waist tightened just slightly, grounding you, almost daring you to acknowledge it.

“how much longer do i have to sit on this assholes lap?” you questioned under your breath, reminding yourself, reminding him, that this was temporary.

"4 minutes!" jake sang back as his accented voice rang in your ears. fuck, it's only been one minute? you thought to yourself... until he spoke.

“i could ruin us in three,” he whispered, warm breath tickling your ear. he was so close you could practically feel his labored breathing against your back. you craned your neck to the side so you could look him in the eyes, "what did you just say???" heeseung was at a loss for words — his brain only drawing blanks.

did he say what he thought he said in his head out loud? impossible. he's hidden it so well, no one in your guys' shared friend group had even suspected his overbearing attraction towards you.

so heeseung did the only thing he could think of. he gulped.

just as your gaze dropped to his adams apple, sunghoon cleared his throat, reducing the fiery tension between you two to reduce to a simmer. "time's up" he stated. and just like that, the warmth you once shared was gone.

as the game progressed, the most interesting things to occur were jake kissing sunghoon on the cheek, riki vandalizing an old alley way that never saw the sun, and winter lady-and-the-tramping a twizzler with keeho.

you and heeseung never dared to even spare a glance in each other's direction for the rest of the night.

───

you laid awake, staring at the ceiling in jay's basement while trying to get comfy on the leather couch that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe. you couldn't sleep. and the reason? none other than your self-proclaimed arch nemesis: lee heeseung.

your friend groups slept on different floors to prevent you and heeseung arguing and waking up the entire house. you slowly got up, attempting and (barely) succeeding to not step on a sleeping figure sprawled on the floor.

as you walk up the stairs from the basement, you hear two people whisper shouting at each other.

you glance at the time displayed on your phone.

a measly 3:16 am stared brightly at you. who's awake at this hour?? as you step closer to the hushed voices, you think you can make out the unmistakeable deepness of riki's voice and heeseung's annoying(ly hot) whispers, tinged with sleep.

"why the fuck would you dare HER of all people to sit on MY lap????" heeseung shouts quietly, clearly frustrated. riki bursts into a fit of giggles. "dude, don't tell me you feel something for her, don't you guys like hate each other?" he says between snide little chuckles.

heeseung freezes. there's no way riki really caught on to what he was supposed to never let slip through the cracks... right?! so he musters up all the dignity he has left and defensively grunts a series of defenses "nowhywouldieverseeherlikethatsheisn'tmytypeandithinkshe'sgross"

riki blankly stares back at heeseung's panicking eyes, "okayyy," he drags the word out, "you don't need to put her down like that, she's like my older sister, dude" riki spits back.

your lips twitch in a small smile, just for a second. just long enough for riki to catch your eyes peeking behind the corner. he nods once, subtle and solid. always in your corner.

but the comfort dies as soon as heeseung opens his mouth.

"i could never love someone like her."

and the world stops.

he says it so casually. almost like it’s a joke. like it's just another throwaway comment tossed between drinks and half-meant insults. but it lands with the weight of something cruelly true — or at least, something you believe he means.

you feel the breath hitch in your throat. just once.

riki's gaze is drawn to your frozen frame. and that's when everything freezes. heeseung whips around to see you standing there. eyes blown and glossy.

riki shifts, but he doesn’t move to try and console you — he knows better. knows this is something that'll bruise. something you need time to process, alone.

you bite back tears. “right,” you say, quietly. “of course.”

heeseung’s expression flickers — confusion, regret, something else — but you’ve already masked the pain. emotion draining from your face like you’ve trained for it. like it’s a sport. like if you stop moving, the hurt will catch up.

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he says, a little too late, a little too soft.

you readjust your posture, fixing your shirt.

“you meant it exactly like that,” you reply, and it’s not even bitter. it’s worse. numb.

riki’s there before heeseung can say anything else. standing between you like a wall. like a shield.

“walk away,” he tells you gently, and you do.

because if you stay, you might ask him why not. and you’re not sure your heart could take the answer.

riki turns back to heeseung, flames he's never seen before burning in the younger boys irises that are normally filled with mischief and teasing glints. but all of a sudden none of that is there anymore. it's pure, unfiltered anger. raw emotion.

heeseung wants him to yell at him. say something, anything. but nothing comes. riki just walks upstairs like he doesn't even know who heeseung is anymore.

and maybe he doesn't.

───

the next morning, when heeseung wakes up, it's almost peaceful. until rain begins to tip tap on the roof and everything comes crashing down. his chest is tight and immediately swells with regret. so much he thinks it'll spill out of him just like the rain outside.

he needs to talk to you. make sure you're okay. but he knows he's the last person you want to see right now. still, he has to try

as he descends down the stairs, he doesn't smell the usual feast jay would prepare them: eggs, bacon, toast, orange juice and cereal for jake since he claims, "it doesn't hurt his tummy," (his words).

he actually doesn't see jake. nor sunghoon, sunoo, jungwon, jay, winter, yuqi, or keeho.

after last nights events, he expected not to see riki as he was probably with you.

how did he go from having the girl of his dreams sitting on his lap, to making her hate him even more?

it's simple, really: he fucked up.

he moves through the house like a ghost — rooms too quiet, air too still. no laughter, no music playing off someone’s phone. just him and the rain.

the basement still has the blanket you’d curled up with last night. your mug — half full. he picks it up, and it’s cold. like him.

he tries to call riki. no answer.

he tries to call you.

it goes straight to voicemail.

he types out a text. deletes it. tries again.

“i didn’t mean what i said. i didn’t mean to hurt you. i'm sorry, y/n”

he stares at it. sends it.

and immediately regrets it. because what if you never answer?

as he packs up all his belongings, ready for the uncomfortable drive home, someone enters the house.

heeseung's heart rate picks up. what if it's you? he bolts down the stairs and is ultimately disappointed when he's met with a very disapproving jay.

they stand across from one another, staring into each others eyes.

heeseung's the first to break. he collapses on the bar stool at the counter and drops his head into his hands like it weighs a ton.

jay just sighs and sits down next to his friend.

"is she okay?" heeseung mumbles, his face buried in his hands.

jay’s jaw tightens. "why do you care?" he snaps. "you sure as hell didn’t last night when you said you could never love someone like her."

the words hit hard — harder than jay intended — and heeseung shatters.

the sobs break out of him like a dam giving way, loud and raw. tears stream down his face, and the sound of it makes jay flinch, caught off guard by how real the pain is. how broken heeseung suddenly looks.

still, jay moves without thinking, reaching out and rubbing slow circles on his friend’s back. it doesn’t fix anything, but it softens the edges of the moment.

they sit there in silence, the storm outside echoing the one inside, as heeseung cries himself hoarse.

by the time he’s able to breathe steadily again, nearly an hour has passed. his eyes are red, his voice barely there. he lifts his head and meets jay’s gaze; tired looking into just as tired.

neither of them says much. there’s no need.

finally, jay sighs and stands. “go grab your stuff,” he says quietly. “you’re in no shape to drive. i’ll take you home.”

heeseung doesn’t argue.

because for once, he knows jay’s right.

───

your phone dings.

dni: i didn't mean what i said. i didn't mean to hurt you. i'm sorry, y/n

you stare at your phone. gaze void of emotion. you've cried out everything you could muster.

you don't even know why heeseung's words echo in your head.

were you really that intolerable to be around? surely you weren't. all of heeseung's friends enjoyed hanging out with you and same with your little group.

so why did hearing your supposed enemy say he could never love someone like you hurt so bad?

you suppose you need to distract yourself from thinking that heeseung's words have any sort of impact on you. and that's when your door swings open. riki, yuqi, winter, keeho, sunghoon, jake, sunoo, and jungwon walk into your apartment with food, video games, board games, coloring books, skincare — everything you needed at the moment.

a break.

a break from your spiraling thoughts and endless questions you didn't want answered.

there's a knock at the door, jay comes in after he dropped heeseung off, with a freshly made cake, red velvet. your favorite.

you don’t move at first.

the warmth of your friends floods the apartment — laughter, chatter, the familiar rustle of takeout bags and the buzz of game controllers syncing. but it feels distant, like you’re underwater, watching from behind a thick pane of glass.

yuqi wraps her arms around you from behind, cheek resting on your shoulder. “we got your favorite pork buns,” she says softly.

you nod. you don’t trust your voice.

riki’s the one who notices your phone still clutched in your hand. screen glowing. that message. his message.

he doesn’t say anything, but he takes the phone from you gently, pressing the lock button, letting the screen fade to black. and you’re grateful. because if you kept staring at it, you might’ve started crying again, and you didn’t think you had anything left in you.

“movie?” sunghoon offers, holding up a stack of dvd's none of you ever returned to the library.

“coloring?” sunoo chirps, already spreading out gel pens across your coffee table.

“face masks?” winter insists, already tearing them open.

you let them distract you. you let them love you in the only way they know how — loudly, messily, unconditionally.

there’s a moment, in the middle of the chaos, when keeho makes a stupid joke and jungwon snorts soda out of his nose, that you laugh. actually laugh.

and then it hits you like whiplash — how easily heeseung could’ve been here. how almost close you came to letting yourself believe there was something soft behind his smirks and eye rolls. how you’d dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, the tension between you wasn’t just one-sided delusion.

but then he said it. “i could never love someone like her.”

and even with the people you love surrounding you, something in your chest hurts. like a bruise that won’t stop blooming.

later, after everyone’s settled into pillows and half-finished coloring pages, riki sits beside you. he doesn’t speak for a long time.

then, quietly, “you don’t have to pretend around me.”

and that’s when your lip trembles. just slightly.

“i don’t know why it hurts this much,” you whisper. “i knew he hated me. i knew. so why do i feel so broken?"

“he didn’t have to say it like that,” riki replies, voice firm. “he didn’t have to break something just because he couldn’t admit he wanted to hold it.”

you nod, finally letting a single tear trail down your cheek. riki wipes it away before it can fall too far.

he squeezes your hand.

“he messed up,” he says. “that’s on him. not you.”

you hold onto that — his words, their presence, the comfort of being chosen and cared for.

and for the first time since last night, you breathe. not easily. not painlessly. but it’s a start.

───

heeseung didn't know how hard it would be to try and get any information about you.

how you were doing, if you were okay. anything

your mutual friends? after hearing how massive he fucked up, they sided with you.

sure, jay, jake, sunghoon, sunoo, and jungwon would text him and hang out with him occasionally, but they wouldn't utter a word about you. most of the time heeseung saw them, it would be for awkward movie nights or when they would game together when none of them could sleep.

when he was alone, his mind ached, his chest twisted in pain, but mostly... his body ached.

he tried to stop it, he knew it was wrong.

but when you sat on his lap, something in him shifted.

sure he knew you were pretty (breathtakingly stunning), but he never imagined something he thought about constantly would ever become reality.

he thought back to those 5 minutes. the tension. surely it couldn't have just been made up in his head, right?

the way your entire body tensed when his hands rested on your hips. normally he wouldn't have touched you, but you were shifting and he needed to stop his growing problem before you noticed.

and thankfully it worked.

however, he was already hard as a brick.

his breath hitched as he remembered the look in your eyes — uncertain, but not scared. curious, maybe? or was he projecting again?

he swallowed hard, his hands now clenched at his sides like if he let them loose, they’d betray him again.

five minutes. that’s all it was. but it looped in his head like a damn broken record.

you hadn’t said a word. but your thighs had tensed. and when he shifted, trying to regain his composure, you hadn't moved away — not immediately, anyway.

maybe it meant nothing. maybe you hadn’t even noticed the way his breath had gone shallow or the way he was holding back like his life depended on it.

but god, his body remembered.

he shifted in his bed now, alone, frustrated, angry at himself. this wasn’t who he was supposed to be. he wasn’t supposed to want this — to want you — not like this. not in silence, not in secrecy, not in pain.

but the damage was already done.

and the worst part?

he wasn’t sure he even wanted to stop anymore.

as he stared at his chase atlantic posters, he thought to himself. any guy would get hard when a pretty girl sits on his lap, right? surely it isn't just because he's a pathetic virgin who's had to lie to his entire friend group about how he "gets around."

soon enough, his thoughts were interrupted by the rapidly increasing ache between his legs.

his hands trembled slightly as they hovered over the tent in his shorts. his breathing was shallow, lips parted, eyes half-lidded as if he were caught in some fever dream he didn’t want to wake up from.

he hated how much he needed this.

how much he needed you.

with a low, strangled groan, he finally gave in, palming himself over the thin fabric. the relief was immediate, but it wasn’t enough — it never was. not when the ache ran deeper than just skin. not when every nerve in his body was screaming for more.

he slipped his hand beneath his waistband, hissing through clenched teeth as his fingers wrapped around his thick length, already twitching with need. he was so hard it hurt, painfully stiff and dripping at the tip, slicking his palm almost instantly.

your name burned on his tongue, but he swallowed it back.

he couldn’t say it. shouldn’t say it.

but in his head, it echoed over and over again. your laugh. your voice. the way you looked at him — or didn’t. the way you moved. god, he remembered everything. he was haunted by it.

he shut his eyes tight and let his hand move — slow at first, starting at his base and dragging his fingers up each vein decorating the sides. his patience wore out quicker than he'd ever admit, starting to move up his length, then down with just enough pressure to make his thighs twitch. he bit his lip, hard, trying to hold in the sounds. but as the memory of you shifting in his lap played behind his eyelids like a cruel fantasy, a soft whimper escaped.

he was losing it.

desperation clawed at him with every stroke, every flex of his hand. his hips lifted off the mattress as his muscles tensed. he imagined your fingers replacing his, your body hovering over his, your breath against his neck.

“please,” he gasped into the dark — not even sure what he was begging for. forgiveness? permission? you?

he pumped harder now, faster, chasing that high like it would save him. his other hand gripped the sheets, knuckles white. he was right on the edge, falling apart with nothing but the echo of your presence and the throb of need coiled deep in his belly.

“i need — fuck, i need you,” he moaned, broken and breathless. his body was hot, slick with sweat, twitching under his own touch.

he could feel it. the band threatening to snap at any moment.

he swirled his fingers around his tip, hitting that spot that made his vision go white. he was close.

all it took to unravel him was an image of you, mouth replacing his hand. trying to fit as much of him into your mouth while he just laid there and took it.

eventually the thought was too much, his seed spilled over his stomach in thick, messy ropes, his fist slowing only when the aftershocks wracked his frame like a wave of guilt and pleasure colliding all at once.

he laid there for a moment, chest heaving, skin flushed and sticky.

and then it hit him.

he still wasn’t satisfied.

because it wasn’t your touch. it wasn’t your voice, your kiss, your heat. it was just his hand and a fantasy he couldn't let go of.

and no matter how many times he did this, no matter how many times he used the memory of you…

it was never going to be enough.

───

you’ve held it together for as long as you could — smiled through movie nights, laughed at keeho’s stupid impressions, even ate something other than ramen yesterday. but it’s all surface level. the moment you're alone again, the cracks split wide open.

there you are, sitting on your couch, drowning in your thoughts.

the faint glow of the streetlamp filters through the windows, further highlighting the text message staring back at you

“i didn’t mean it.”

it replays in your head over and over like a broken record until your vision starts to blur. tears flood your waterline but you make no effort to stop them.

you don’t sob. you just sit there, hurting so quietly it’s almost peaceful.

until it isn’t.

your lip trembles slightly, then it all comes pouring out.

“why? why did you say that? what the fuck. did i do to deserve those words?”

riki hears your quiet words from the bathroom. he comes rushing out, empathy and sadness twirling in his eyes.

“hey, hey, hey, talk to me y/n. yell at me if you need to, yeah?” he says. voice barely above a whisper. all you can choke out is a tiny “no, none of this is your fault.”

riki sits next to you, holding you, trying to piece you back together as if he were the one who broke you.

disrupting the mellow silence lingering in your apartment, there’s a knock at the door.

not wanting the worst case scenario, you answering the door to heeseung, riki gets up and makes his way to where the sound came from.

to both of your dismay, a tired heeseung stands in the doorway.

his hair is messy, dark bags under his usually teasing eyes, looking like he hasn’t slept in days.

he freezes when he sees you. your puffy eyes, shaking hands, the way you curl in on yourself like you’re trying to disappear.

riki steps in front of you, but you give him the signal to back down. you and heeseung can handle this alone. what’s another argument anyways?

as riki walks away, heeseung starts slowly “yn…”

you look at him. and no matter how hard you could have tried, nothing could have stopped you from snapping at him.

“why are you here?” “i had to see you. i had to say–” “you already said enough, heeseung.”

god. the way you say his name. all he’s thought about since you last saw each other was you saying his name. and now, he doesn’t wanna hear it ever again.

he opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

“do you know what it felt like to hear you say i wasn’t lovable? that someone like me could never be enough for you?”

as if you could read his mind, you shake your head, dismissing whatever he was about to spit out.

with every last ounce of energy you can gather, you scream. “you don’t get to feel sorry now. you made your choice the other night. i knew we had a mutual hatred, or at least some twisted distaste, but i never even thought about saying something like that to you.”

he doesn’t respond right away. just stands there, frozen. then you hear it. soft sniffles. ragged breathing. sobs.

he breaks.

because this is the first time he gets it. really, truly understands what he did. what he said. what it cost you.

“i’m sorry,” he chokes out, voice cracked and barely audible. “truly. what i said last week… i didn’t mean it. even thinking it broke me.”

you stare at him for a long, quiet second. and then you say it — flat, but shaking.

“you broke me first, heeseung.”

his breath catches. your words land like a punch to the gut, because they’re the truth. maybe the first truth spoken between you in a long time.

heeseung, who’s always so calm. so composed. the one who rolls his eyes at everything and makes everything feel like a joke. he’s crumbling in front of you now. not fighting. not defending. just falling apart.

and then it hits you. maybe he’s always been like this.

watching you. listening. never the first to strike, only ever the one to react. maybe he was never the villain in this story.

your breath hitches. maybe, just maybe, you were wrong.

you don’t know why the realization crashes down now. maybe it’s the sound of his sobs. maybe it’s the way the silence has more weight than anything he’s ever said. but something inside you shifts.

and for the first time, you see him — not as the enemy. but as the boy who let you hate him, because he didn’t know how to ask for anything else.

you replay every argument like a tape stuck on rewind. you were always the one who started it.

the snide comments. the sideways glances. the venom you dressed up as jokes.

heeseung never really fought back. he always matched your energy, sure, but he never escalated it. never crossed a line. not until that night.

your chest tightens. you realize you don’t even remember what the first fight was about. some hallway bump? a misunderstood glance? maybe it was never about anything. maybe it was just you, projecting every piece of your brokenness onto the only person who saw through it and stayed.

god, had he always stayed?

you remember in elementary school, how he used to bring you extra snacks when you forgot lunch. how he gave you his hoodie that one time you were shivering during morning assembly, even after you’d spent the entire week roasting him in front of your friends.

you remember the way his gaze always lingered—not in a way that felt invasive, but like he was always checking. watching over you without saying a word.

and now here he is. slumped into his knees. back pressed against the wall, crying over you.

you were so busy building walls with your bitterness that you didn’t notice it was slowly breaking him.

the quiet way he tried to reach over them.

you sink to the floor across from him, not close enough to touch, but close enough to feel the weight of everything between you.

for a long moment, you don’t speak. neither does he. you just breathe in the silence together — like it’s the only language you both understand.

“i didn’t know how to stop hating you,” you whisper, voice catching. “because if i stopped… i think i would’ve started needing you.”

heeseung lifts his head. eyes red, lashes wet.

“i already did,” he says. “i never stopped.”

your heart fractures in a way that doesn’t feel sharp, just tired. heavy.

“i don’t know what to do with that,” you admit.

“you don’t have to do anything,” he murmurs. “not tonight.”

you nod. once. then you help him get up. both your legs feel numb, but you walk him towards the door. your hand rests on the handle, taking a second to look up at him. really look at him, and you’re tempted to say something.

but instead, you give him the quietest thing you can offer: a small, broken sort of smile. not quite forgiveness. not quite goodbye.

then, he steps out into the night. and just like that, the quietness of everything settling in takes over. no more lies. just the truth.

as you’re deep in thought, riki walks in with two mugs of hot chocolate — extra marshmallows, your favorite.

-ˏˋ⋆ 3 years ago ⋆ˊˎ-

it’s a chilly summer night. you and riki are sprawled out on the roof of his parents' house, the shingles warm beneath your backs from the day’s lingering sun. crickets hum below. the stars blink overhead, careless and constant.

you shift slightly, seeking warmth, and without a word, riki lifts his arm. you curl into the space beside him, head on his shoulder, fingers tucked into the sleeve of his hoodie. his arm settles around you like it belongs there.

“do you think we’ll ever feel like this again?” you murmur. “peaceful. like nothing’s wrong.”

he hums low in his chest. “you mean without chaos or boys who don’t deserve you?”

you let out a breath, half a laugh. “exactly.”

there’s a pause, the kind that feels thick with unspoken things.

riki’s voice is soft when he finally speaks. “i think… the people who make you feel heavy, like you're constantly questioning yourself, that’s not love, y/n. that’s something else.”

you turn your face slightly to look up at him. he’s gazing at the stars like he’s afraid of admitting he craves the one thing he’s always sworn to never care about.

“love should never hurt,” he says, quieter this time. “not the kind that stays.”

you don’t say anything right away. you’re too busy memorizing the way the night folds around his words. the way he’s always been a comfort for you, the one to pick you up when you’re falling.

and in that moment, you believe him. you really do.

you nod once. “then i hope… when it’s my turn, it feels like this. safe.”

riki swallows. “me too.��

-ˏˋ⋆ present time ⋆ˊˎ-

and now, back in your bedroom, the silence left in heeseung’s absence is deafening.

your gaze flicks toward the window, rain still threading down the glass like tear tracks. your mind lingers on that rooftop — the stars, the safety, the version of you who still believed in soft things.

before all the hook-ups, parties, and one-sided confessions.

you pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders and whisper. either to riki or yourself, you don’t know.

“you said love should never hurt. i think heeseung missed that memo.”

and god, how you wish you could go back to that night — before the spiral, before the ache.

before the boy who made you feel like an afterthought.

before you let yourself fall over someone you thought you didn’t care about.

riki leaves after making sure you’re alright, mumbling something about dance practice.

and again, it’s just you. in the quiet.

then, almost without thinking, you rip a blank piece of paper out of your journal.

you don’t plan it. it’s just instinct — fingers gripping your pen, waiting for permission your heart hasn’t quite given. but then you start writing.

dear heeseung,

i hated you before i knew how badly i could want you. maybe that’s where it all went wrong. because at some point, i stopped seeing you as the boy who annoyed me and started seeing you as someone i wanted to understand. as someone i wanted to look at me and see me. and for a while, i thought maybe you did. i thought maybe the way you pulled me into your lap, the way you whispered near my ear, the way your hand rested on my waist — i thought maybe it meant something. i thought i was stupid for hating you. turns out i was just stupid for hoping. you said you could never love someone like me. and god, that broke something in me i didn’t know was still whole. because even when i told myself i hated you, there was always that small, traitorous part of me that wondered: what if he doesn’t hate me back? what if it’s more? but it wasn’t. and now i can’t unhear it. you probably didn’t even mean it — not in the way it came out. maybe it was fear, or pressure, or ego. but it doesn’t matter, does it? words don’t get erased just because we didn’t mean them. they echo. and yours… yours are still echoing inside me like a song i can’t shut off. i don’t think i’m mad at you anymore. i think i’m mad at myself. for letting you get close. for not guarding the parts of me i only let out in small doses. for thinking i was different to you. i wish you hadn’t said it. but mostly, i wish it hadn’t mattered so much to me that you did. – y/n

you take out an envelope, neatly fold the paper and stuff it inside, writing a neat ‘heeseung’ on the front of it.

some truths aren’t meant to be sent. some confessions are only meant for the rain to witness.

and tonight, that’s enough.

───

the second the door shuts behind him, the silence hits like a punch to the ribs.

heeseung stands there for a second too long, staring at the wood grain of your door like it might open again. like maybe you’ll come running after him. like maybe that small, broken smile you gave him wasn’t the end.

but it doesn’t open.

and it was the end.

he starts walking. he doesn’t even remember moving his feet, just that suddenly he’s outside, and the rain greets him like an old friend. cold, sharp, unforgiving. it soaks through his hoodie in seconds, but he doesn’t flinch.

he deserves it. every drop. every chill. every echo of your voice in his head.

“not quite forgiveness. not quite goodbye.”

god, what did he do?

how did he take someone who was literally sitting in his lap, trusting him with the fragile thread of something real — and turn that into this? this mess of silence and space and words he can’t take back?

“i could never love someone like her.”

he had said it so carelessly. so cruelly. trying to deflect the attention off himself in front of your friends, like a coward. like a boy who still thinks protecting his ego is worth more than protecting a heart.

especially your heart.

he wipes his face with the back of his hand, unsure if it’s tears or rain. it’s probably both.

he thinks back to your eyes right before he left. the way you looked at him like he was someone you used to know. like whatever thread was between you had finally snapped.

and the worst part?

he couldn’t even beg you to stay.

because he knows — he knows — he doesn’t deserve it.

he walks home in silence, the city around him buzzing and breathing like it doesn’t care at all about the wreckage inside his chest. his phone buzzes a few times in his pocket, probably jay or jungwon checking if he made it back safely.

but none of it matters.

because there’s only one person he wants to hear from.

and you’ve already said everything you needed to say. in the way you didn’t ask him to stay. in the way you didn’t cry. in the way you simply closed the door.

so when heeseung finally steps into his apartment, soaked to the bone, trembling from more than just the cold, he collapses on his bed, stares at the ceiling, and whispers:

“i didn’t mean it. i swear i didn’t mean it.”

but there’s no one left to listen.

not tonight.

───

heeseung isn’t the center of your world anymore.

not in the way he used to be.

in the weeks that follow, your friends become your anchor. riki never leaves your side. winter brings over matcha lattes and blankets. sunoo paints your nails while jake tells bad jokes. you laugh again. slowly, but surely.

you start writing more letters.

some are angry. some are soft. some are nothing more than wordless scratches of ink on paper.

but one night, you write a letter that feels different.

you don’t even realize what you’re saying until it’s already down:

i wanted you. for a long time. maybe even when i said i hated you. maybe that was the only way i knew how to say it without crumbling. i masked want with rage. affection with sarcasm. love with loathing. you made it easier to run. but i wanted to stay. god, i wanted to stay.

you fold that letter gently. tuck it into your drawer. it doesn’t matter if he reads it. not now.

because healing isn’t about him.

it’s about you.

and you’re getting there.

lately, the weekends have felt lighter. your apartment has become a familiar gathering place again, only now, it’s just the people who stayed. who showed up. who chose you. heeseung hasn’t come around in weeks, and no one really talks about it. not in a cruel way, just in the quiet, understanding way that friendships shift when someone slips out of the picture.

you used to dread saturday nights, used to flinch every time the group chat lit up with plans. used to wonder if he’d show up, if you’d have to spend the night pretending not to notice the weight of his silence, the way your laughter dulled around him. but somewhere along the way, those nights started to feel easier. not because you stopped missing him — but because you started remembering how to miss him without hurting yourself in the process.

your living room is alive with warmth and laughter. the scent of popcorn and mango smoothies drifts through the air. blankets are piled high on the couch, soft pillows strewn across the floor where riki is dramatically throwing himself down after losing yet another round of mario kart to sunghoon, who’s grinning like he just won the olympics.

“cheater,” riki groans, pointing an accusing finger without lifting his head.

“just admit i’m better,” sunghoon replies smugly, stretching his legs across the coffee table like he owns the place.

in the corner, winter and yuqi are dancing barefoot to a chaotic mix of early 2000s pop and indie throwbacks — somehow still synced up to choreography you’d all made up back in sophomore year. their laughter is contagious, unfiltered and bright, and it tugs a smile onto your face before you even realize it.

keeho is halfway through teaching jungwon and sunoo a tiktok dance in the kitchen doorway, voice loud and arms flailing with exaggerated energy. they’re laughing too hard to get the moves right, collapsing into each other every time they mess up. jake, unfazed by the chaos, is blending something suspiciously green in the kitchen, wearing a headband that reads “chef vibes only.”

you’re curled up on the loveseat, blanket wrapped around your shoulders, a half-finished smoothie in your hands. and for once, you’re not scanning the room for him. you’re not wondering what he’d say or how he’d look at you or if tonight would be the night he pulled you aside and finally said something real.

you’re just… here. and it’s enough.

someone throws a pillow at your head, probably riki, based on the cackling, and you lunge to retaliate, laughing as the pillow war erupts across the living room. it’s messy, loud, ridiculous. and it’s yours. this little world you’re rebuilding, one laugh, one night, one breath at a time.

there’s still a part of you that misses him. maybe there always will be. but tonight, that part is small. quiet.

outnumbered by joy.

meanwhile, heeseung is alone in his apartment.

the place is dim. quiet. it hasn’t felt like home in a long time. he's been staring at his phone for an hour now, hoping for a text that doesn’t come.

he thinks about the group chat. the silence from everyone. he thinks about the night he ruined everything. and how, somehow, he still wants to fix it.

he knows an apology isn’t enough. not this time.

he needs to show you, all of you, that he’s not the same guy who let his fear speak louder than his heart.

he just doesn’t know how yet.

but he will. he has to.

because he doesn’t just want forgiveness.

he wants to deserve it.

───

somewhere in the chaos, one of your unsent letters goes missing.

riki finds it by accident. tucked under a cushion, edges worn. he doesn't mean to read it, but your handwriting draws him in, and before he knows it, he's holding your heartbreak in his hands.

he doesn't say a word. just slips it into his pocket and walks away.

a day later, heeseung finds the letter folded on the seat of his car.

he doesn’t recognize the paper at first. but the second he sees your handwriting, his heart drops.

his hands shake as he unfolds it. the silence around him is so loud, he can hear his pulse in his ears.

and then he reads it.

every word. every line. every raw, aching truth you never meant for him to see.

i thought maybe the way you pulled me into your lap, the way you whispered near my ear, the way your hand rested on my waist — i thought maybe it meant something. turns out i was just stupid for hoping. you said you could never love someone like me. and god, that broke something in me i didn’t know was still whole.

heeseung sits there, completely still. letter trembling in his grip.

"fuck," he whispers. "fuck."

he shows up to the next group hangout like his life depends on it.

he doesn’t talk to anyone. not really. not until you walk in.

you freeze when you see him. part of you wants to turn around and leave.

but he doesn’t let you.

he stands. crosses the room.

"can we talk?" he asks, voice low, not demanding, but pleading.

you don’t say anything.

"please. just five minutes. if you still hate me after, i’ll leave you alone. forever."

there’s a long pause.

you nod.

he takes you outside, away from the noise, into the quiet night.

"i read it," he says.

you blink. "read what?"

he reaches into his jacket and pulls out the letter. your letter.

your stomach drops.

"i wasn’t supposed to see it, i know. but... i’m glad i did."

"heeseung—"

"no. let me say this. please."

his eyes are desperate. glassy. his words shaky.

"i lied. that night. i said that because i was scared. because i felt too much, too fast, and didn’t know what to do with it. i thought if i pushed you away, i could kill whatever it was before it killed me."

he takes a step closer.

"but you weren’t just someone i hated. not really. you were someone i couldn’t stop thinking about. you were the highlight of every party, every night, every moment. i was an idiot. but i never stopped wanting you."

your throat is tight.

"you broke me," you whisper.

he nods.

"i know. and i’ll spend every second proving to you that i’m sorry. not with words — with time. with actions. with everything you’ll let me give."

there’s silence.

then you take a breath.

"you’ve got a lot to prove, lee heeseung."

he gives the smallest, hopeful smile.

"then let me start now."

and he does.

not with fireworks. not with promises he can’t keep. but with the small things. the consistent things.

the next morning, there’s a text from him. simple.

“did you sleep okay?”

you stare at it for a while before replying.

“yeah. you?”

“not really. kept thinking about you.”

you don’t answer that. but your heart stirs anyway.

a few days later, he’s waiting outside your class with a drink in his hand, the one he used to make fun of you for ordering (“that’s basically sugar and foam, y/n”), but now buys without hesitation. he doesn’t try to walk you home. doesn’t push. just hands you the drink, offers a soft “you looked tired,” and walks away before you can respond.

he lets you come to him.

at the next hangout, he doesn’t hover. doesn’t sulk. he helps jake in the kitchen, jokes with jungwon, lets the others tease him without biting back. when you walk in, his eyes find you — but he doesn’t pull you aside. just offers a quiet, careful smile. like he’s waiting. like he’s learning how to stay.

one night, you’re struggling with your laundry, balancing way too many bags and a basket of unfolded clothes, and he appears without a word, grabbing half the load from your arms. you glare at him, but you don’t tell him to stop.

he walks with you to the laundry room, helps you separate colors, folds your towels when you’re too tired to finish. “i owe you way more than this,” he says softly. you don’t look at him. “yeah,” you murmur. “you do.”

he doesn’t reply. just keeps folding.

you start to notice it more after that. the way he lingers behind after group dinners to help clean. the way he listens, really listens, when you talk, even if it’s just about the books you’re reading or the music you’ve been into lately. the way he starts learning your rhythms again, not to manipulate them, but to respect them.

one night, you find a note slipped into your bag.

“this isn’t about getting you back. it’s about being someone who deserves to stand beside you. i don’t expect anything from you. just… thanks for letting me try.”

you don’t know what to do with that. but you keep the note anyway.

and maybe the biggest moment doesn’t feel big at all. it’s late. you’re sitting on the floor of your apartment, overwhelmed with everything—assignments, memories, feelings you’ve tried to ignore—and he shows up.

he doesn’t say anything. just sits beside you. close, but not too close. his shoulder brushes yours. your hand trembles. and without looking at you, he says, “you don’t have to talk. just let me sit here.”

and you do.

because he’s not trying to fix you. he’s just showing up. and maybe that’s what love looks like now.

quiet. patient. real.

you don’t forgive him all at once.

but some nights, it’s harder to pretend you don’t want to.

like the night it rains, and you forget your umbrella. you’re standing under the campus archway, clutching your books to your chest, half-considering just running for it, when a quiet voice says, “hey.”

you turn. heeseung’s holding out his umbrella, expression unreadable, hair already wet from the walk over.

“you’ll get soaked,” you mumble, surprised. “i don’t mind,” he says. “but you hate the rain.”

you want to tell him to leave. want to remind him that knowing those things doesn’t mean he’s forgiven.

but instead, you step under the umbrella. shoulder to shoulder. hearts too close. you don’t say a word the whole walk home. but you remember how he always matched his pace to yours. he still does.

───

there’s another time. movie night.

everyone’s over again, sprawled across the living room. you end up between yuqi and jungwon on the couch, but at some point, someone moves, and when you shift, you realize you’re next to him. again.

the movie plays. people whisper and pass snacks and argue over the plot twist. but all you feel is the space between your knee and his. the ghost of warmth where your arms nearly brush.

you don’t move away. neither does he.

and at one point, you laugh at a stupid scene. without thinking, you glance at him, wanting to see if he found it funny too. he’s already looking at you. and for a second, everything stills.

you look away first. but your heart doesn't stop racing for a long, long time.

───

the third moment is softest of all.

it’s late. everyone’s left. you’re cleaning up alone, stacking plates in the kitchen.

you don’t hear him come back until he’s beside you, rolling up his sleeves.

“thought i’d help,” he says gently. you nod. don’t speak.

you’re both quiet for a while, working in sync. something about it feels… familiar. domestic. like home.

then, as you’re drying the last cup, you glance over. he’s watching you, and there’s something in his eyes. something tender. careful. full of things he hasn’t said yet.

“i miss you,” he says softly.

your breath catches.

you set the cup down.

“heeseung–”

“i’m not asking for anything,” he interrupts, voice thick. “just… i miss you. and i wanted you to know.”

you swallow hard. there’s so much you could say. but instead, you whisper, “i know.”

he nods once. and then he leaves. because he meant it — he wasn’t asking for anything. but that’s the moment you know: you don’t hate him anymore. you never did.

───

it happens a week later.

a rooftop. stars overhead. winter’s birthday, most of your friends are tipsy on alcohol, sugar and too many karaoke songs. you haven’t had a drop of alcohol, wanting to truly feel everything.

heeseung finds you leaning against the railing, eyes on the sky.

“hey,” he says. you nod and let him stand beside you.

the silence isn’t awkward anymore. it’s soft. steady.

“can i ask you something?” he says, barely audible.

you hum.

“do you still feel it?” he asks. “whatever it was… whatever we had.”

you don’t answer for a long time.

and then, quietly… “i never really stopped.”

he turns. slowly.

your eyes meet. and in them is every apology he’s ever whispered with his actions. every moment he gave you space. every time he showed up when he didn’t have to.

you reach for him first.

your hand brushes his. his fingers curl around yours like a prayer.

and then, finally, he kisses you.

soft. aching. full of every unspoken word, every almost, every could’ve been. this isn’t the kind of kiss that demands anything. it’s a promise. a beginning.

you pull back first, just enough to whisper, “i don’t wanna do this while you’re intoxicated, i don’t want you to regret it.”

he stares at you before mumbling into your lips.

“y/n, i haven’t had a drink, but it feels like i’m drunk when i kiss you.”

your heart stops and everything fades into the background. “don’t break me again.” you plead, face inches away from his.

he presses his forehead to yours.

“never again,” he breathes.

and this time, you believe him.

as he reconnects your lips, his hands tremble slightly where they find purchase on your waist. the night air is cool, but your skin is burning—flushed, alive, and aching in a way you haven’t let yourself feel in so long.

he pulls back just enough to look at you. his eyes flick between yours and your lips, like he’s still not sure this is real.

“we don’t have to,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “just say the word.”

but you don’t want him to stop. not tonight. not after everything.

so you slide your fingers into the collar of his jacket, tug him closer until your lips brush his again.

“take me home, heeseung.”

and he does.

his apartment is quiet when you get inside, the chaos of the earlier party gone, the night still humming with something electric. you barely have time to kick your shoes off before his mouth finds yours again. hungrier now, more desperate. like all the restraint he’s shown is unraveling, thread by thread.

his hands are everywhere — your hips, your waist, your jaw. like he’s relearning you. memorizing the weight of you against him.

you tug his jacket off, fingers fumbling with the zipper, and he lets out a low, breathless laugh against your neck.

“still impatient,” he teases.

“still hot when you shut up,” you shoot back, and he groans.

you barely make it to the couch.

he sits first, pulling you into his lap like it’s instinct, like he’s needed this for months. your knees straddle him, bodies pressed chest to chest, your hands tangled in his hair as he kisses you like he’s starving for it.

he tilts his head, deepens the kiss, and it’s filthy. slow. wet. your hips roll against his without thinking, and the noise he makes, low and guttural, goes straight to your core.

“fuck,” he groans. forehead against your collarbone. “you’re gonna kill me.”

you arch into him, tug his shirt over his head, and he follows suit, fingers slipping under the hem of yours, eyes flicking up for permission. you nod, and he peels it off slowly, reverently, like unwrapping something precious.

his hands trail over your skin like he’s trying to remember what it feels like to deserve you.

and then his mouth is on your neck, your shoulder, trailing down until you’re gasping his name, your back arching as he presses kisses across your collarbones.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, like it hurts.

as you reach for his belt wanting to make him feel good, he puts his hand over yours. “there’s something i need to tell you.. before we take anything further.” he says like he doesn’t even want you to know.

“what is it, hee?”

god. that nickname.

it’s what all his close friends call him, however when you say it. he wants to lay the world at your feet.

“i’m.. uh– a vir-virgin…” he mumbles. you would have missed it had you not been paying close attention.

you laugh.

heeseung leans back into the couch, hoping, praying, wishing it to swallow him whole.

as you observe heeseung, you realize he must be serious. “you’re a virgin? but you– you always used to talk about your hook-ups and how every week it was like you had someone new hanging off your arm??? what do you mean you’re a virgin?”

he whimpers. he fucking whimpers. “i’m not proud of it, okay? i always came really close to hooking up with girls but i um. i couldn’t you know.. get it… up.”

you sit there quietly, giving him time to compose himself and continue.

“everytime i tried to lose my virginity, i couldn’t get hard unless i thought she was you,” he speaks, not gaining enough courage to look you in the eyes.

you stare at heeseung for a moment, trying to process what he just said. the weight of it settles between you like a delicate secret, and suddenly the playful teasing tone you’d had before feels completely inappropriate.

you can see it in his doe eyes — how embarrassed he is, how much he wants to crawl out of his own skin. the corners of his lips are tugged in a tight line, as if holding in every emotion that threatens to spill out. but you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. it’s soft, gentle, but laced with a teasing warmth.

“you’re a virgin?” you ask, letting the words linger a little longer than they should, pretending to be surprised as if he hadn’t just told you, twice.

heeseung’s face reddens, and you see him shrink further into the couch. you could almost feel his desire to hide, to escape. but you don’t let him. instead, you move closer, shifting between his legs, and place your hand on his thigh. a gentle, reassuring pressure.

“god, heeseung,” you tease softly, your lips curling into a smile that isn’t cruel, but playful. “how could you keep that from me? you’ve been all… big talk and ‘i get all the girls,’ and here you are, this nervous little thing, blushing at the thought of being with me?”

his eyes flicker with uncertainty, but you lean in just enough to press your lips to his ear. you feel him tense under the touch, and the subtle shiver runs through his body, telling you everything you need to know. he’s not as confident as he makes it seem.

“you should’ve told me sooner, you know,” you whisper, your voice low, just enough to make his breath hitch. “i would’ve been patient. we could’ve taken it slow.”

heeseung groans softly, his hands gripping the fabric of the couch like he’s holding onto some semblance of control. you smile knowingly, watching the struggle on his face. but it’s not discomfort — it’s desire. you can feel it in the way his eyes refuse to leave yours, in the way his body reacts to the gentleness in your touch.

“i… i don’t want you to think less of me,” he mutters, barely audible, but you catch it anyway. “it’s just… with you, it’s always felt different.”

you gently trace your fingers up his chest, watching as his breath quickens. you’re giving him space to breathe, to process, and then you lean in, brushing your lips against his in a soft, teasing kiss.

“stop worrying about that,” you say quietly, your lips just barely touching his. “i don’t think less of you. if anything, you’re hotter right now than ever before.”

the vulnerability in his eyes shifts. he’s still nervous, but the weight is lifting. and for the first time in a while, you see him start to believe that he doesn’t need to hide anything from you.

then, you shift your focus, teasing him once more with a playful grin. “but you know, heeseung… i could help you with that. we could take this slow, maybe help you get comfortable with what it feels like to be with me. you trust me, don’t you?”

he nods, slowly, not trusting his voice. he’s ready. maybe more than he thought.

and you take that as your cue. you kiss him again, deeper this time, letting the heat between you grow. his body responds to you almost immediately. hands shifting from nervous to eager, pulling you closer as his mouth moves hungrily against yours.

“let me take care of you,” you murmur, your hands trailing down to his belt. this time, you don’t hesitate. you undo it slowly, giving him time to react, but he doesn’t stop you. instead, he leans back into the couch, chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.

heeseung’s eyes search yours one more time, a silent question in them. you nod gently, giving him permission to be vulnerable, to trust you fully.

and when your hands pull his pants down, you can feel the heat of him, see the evidence of his desire. you take your time, enjoying the way he reacts to each touch, savoring the way he trembles under your hands.

you start by rubbing over his bulge when your eyes widen.

he just stares back at you, not blinking, but incredibly nervous. “is– is something wrong?” he stutters out.

“wrong? no, heeseung. you’re huge.”

he blushes and hides his face in his hands. his veiny hands. you’ll definitely need to put those to use later.

you softly drag his hands away from his face and tell him to never hide from you. you think he’s beautiful like this.

after he calms down, you look back into his eyes that resemble a deer, and he nods. signaling you to continue.

you finally trail your eyes down to his raging hard on, you can almost see it pulse.

his breath quickens the longer you take to begin touching him.

you start by teasing his swollen tip, arousal evident in the stain on his gray boxers. he sighs heavily, tipping his head back.

as you rub your hand down to his base, you get a feel for how thick he truly is.

he’s hard. aching. even at the slightest touch, his eyebrows furrow and he holds back soft groans.

you rip your hand off his clothed bulge. “if you want me to continue, you need to let me hear you, baby.”

that was his breaking point, he quickly nods his head yes looking at you with pleading eyes, “c—can you please touch me? it hurts.”

not wanting to tease him any longer, you rip his boxers off his thighs and his throbbing length slaps against his lower abdomen reaching just above his belly button. precum smears on his abs and you get the urge to lick it off.

so you do.

you gently move his dick away from his toned stomach, swiping your wet muscle along his abs, sucking to leave light marks.

the noises he makes are downright pornographic, and you think you’ll never be able to hear them enough.

moving your attention back to the hardness in your grasp, you begin to lick up his shaft, tracing each vein with the tip of your tongue. his head is still tipped back, frustrating you a bit because you want his attention on you.

so… in one swift motion, you take him down your throat until his tip hits the back. his head shoots up and he moans. loud.

heeseung is in heaven. the feeling of your throat constricting around his cock, he never wants you to pull off of him. he gently pulls your hair into a ponytail, hands shaking when you start moving.

his apartment is filled with filthy noises: wet, loud, and obscene.

he can hear and feel your gag reflexes kicking in but you don’t budge. you continue to move up and down, not wanting to stop until he cums.

his tipping point was you somehow taking him even further down your throat, nose brushing his pelvis. he thought you were going to take a break for air but you didn't.

you stay.

swallowing around him.

the pressure in your jaw is almost unbearable but when you feel his thighs shaking, you know he’s close. and you need to ruin him.

hollowing your cheeks, you swirl your tongue around his engorged tip, hands coming up to play with his heavy balls. he can’t hold back anymore. the sensation of you taking his whole cock down your tiny throat and the stimulation of his balls in your hands. he groans.

desperate. low. deep

and spills down your throat. warm, wet, and sticky ropes, pour out of his tip. taking up all the space you had left, some spilling out from the corners of your mouth.

you swallow all that you can, then pull off from his dick.

heavy breathing is the only thing that can be heard. heeseung threw an arm over his eyes, chest heaving, trying to regain control of his senses.

meanwhile, you haven’t stopped clenching your thighs together.

you didn’t even notice you were staring until he clears his throat. he just looks so gorgeous all fucked out.

“wow. did you– swallow.. it?” he asks through pants.

you answer him like it was the most natural thing in the world, “yeah, because it was you”

he moans, again. and that’s when you notice he’s still hard, still aching.

as you move to straddle his lap, he grabs your thighs and wraps your legs around his waist. “not here, i want our first time to be special” he says softly, with a kiss to your temple.

he carries you to his bedroom on wobbly legs and gently lays you down on his bed, hovering on top of you. he plants wet kisses all over your face, trailing down to your neck, collarbones, until he reaches your covered chest.

looking at you with big, lust filled eyes, he waits for your green light. you nod and he fumbles with your bra clasp, eventually tearing the fabric away.

“you’re stunning,” he says completely awestruck by your half-naked form.

as he continues staring, he licks his lips, slowly lowering his head wrapping his soft lips around one of your perky buds.

you instinctively arch into his touch, one of his hands wrapping around your waist as his other hand gently kneads your other boob. soft gasps and whines slip from your lips as you try to grind up in search of any friction where you need it most.

he senses your desperate pleas and starts moving his body to slot between your legs, face in front of your clothed core. you wiggle your hips trying to convince him to speed up and touch you where you need it the most.

“can i…?” he practically begs, “yeah” you sigh as you relax into his plush sheets. he drags your sweats down your soft legs planting kisses along the inside of your thighs, all the way down to your calves. he makes his way to your panty clad pussy, pressing a soft kiss to your bundle of nerves aching for him.

you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before.

he looks so good between your thighs, you want this image ingrained into your brain forever.

he brings his thumb up to press on the wet spot that’s formed on your panties, groaning, “fuck, you’re so wet.”

“all for you.”

he replays those words in his head and his patience snaps. tearing your underwear in half, he wastes no time. tongue lapping and the wetness between your legs, like he’s been deprived of any liquid all his life.

you’ve never met someone this desperate to eat you out. or anyone for that matter.

he mumbles against your core, “guide me, please, wan’ you t’feel good, mmh.”

your hands take place in his silky soft roots, gently tugging on the strands.

through whimpers, you tell him to focus on your clit, and surprisingly (for a virgin), he finds it fairly quickly.

he briefly sucks on the nub, flicking it with his tongue to soothe it. “fuck, hee” you moan out into the space of his bedroom.

he groans against your pussy, carefully bringing up his fingers so he can push his tongue into your awaiting hole. the moment he starts fucking you with his tongue, you arch your back and grind into his face, needing more.

he heard his friends talking about “prep” and “stretching girls out,” so he wonders if you need to be stretched out to take him. you said he was huge, did you mean it? he has no idea, he’s a pathetic virgin who has only shoved his dick into his right hand. not even a pocket pussy or fleshlight.

to your dismay, he pulls away for a brief second asking if he should use his fingers. “please, i need you to stretch me out, i can’t– take you without prep,” you rush out feeling your high not far away.

“shit, okay baby,” he mutters back before bringing his middle finger up to spread your juices around.

your hips jerk up when he focuses on your clit, surprised by the stimulation.

slowly, he pushes his finger in, getting used to the warm sensation of your walls.

you clench around his thick digit, feeling fuller than when you finger yourself. as he pumps it in and out, you tell him to add another one and he does.

moaning in relief, you arch into his touch as his tongue finds its way back to your sensitive clit.

between him lapping like a dog and the feeling of two of his fingers pumping in and out of your tight hole, you feel a familiar band in your stomach building up.

your moans increase and heeseung feels dizzy, taking in all that you give.

he curves his fingers all while sucking on your bundle of nerves, causing you to tip over the edge and that band in your stomach to snap.

you come crashing down, chanting his name like a mantra as heeseung helps you ride out your high.

as you lift your head and meet his gaze, he looks more fucked out than you do. hooded eyes, tongue lolled out of his mouth, gaze consumed with lust. you pull him by the collar of his shirt until your lips collide in a mess of tongues and teeth.

your makeout session unfortunately doesn’t last long as heeseung starts whining into your lips.

that’s when you realize his cock found your bent knee, not so subtly grinding against it, trying to relieve some of the ache.

“feeling needy, are we?” you tease, earning a playful roll of the eyes from heeseung.

pulling back, you drink in his bare torso– he’s always been muscular as he was very popular with the ladies (until he got into bed with them).

dragging your hand up his chiseled abs, his stomach tenses and his dick twitches.

you found his second biggest weakness, besides you. his abs.

deciding to end the teasing there, since you’re also becoming increasingly impatient, you flip him over so you land on top of him with a quiet, “oof.”

as you settle your bare core on his rock solid cock, you start grinding, placing your hands on his chest for support.

he can’t hold back the guttural groans spilling from his mouth. not believing you’re really on top of him right now. this isn’t just one of his wet dreams.

he thought this couldn’t get any better, but when he struggles to get out a weak ask for a condom, you just respond with “no, i’m– on the pill. need to feel you. all of you.”

and to that, he moans, not believing his ears.

it’s his first time. and he’s about to have sex with YOU. raw. he thinks he’s dreaming. there’s no way you’re real.

you gently angle his dick towards your awaiting hole, sinking down until his fat tip is inside you.

instantly, you both sigh in relief, starting to feel the pressure ease up.

if you feel a stretch at his tip entering you, you don’t know how you’re supposed to fit all of him inside you. he’s the biggest you’ve seen and he doesn’t even know it.

your attention is drawn back to the man consuming your brain when he whines. “m-more, please.” he’s becoming needier the longer you stay at just his tip but you don’t know how to tell him you’ve never taken a size like him before.

“hee-heeseung i need a sec, you’re– fuck. so thick,” you say between moans.

his grip on your hips tightens, a silent way of telling you to take your time.

when you finally deem yourself ready, you sink lower, wanting to speed it up, bracing the stretch to come.

you feel him pulsing inside you and that’s all you need to sink all the way down, him bottoming out inside you.

it’s his first time feeling anything other than his hand wrapped around him, and he whimpers, loud. it’s overstimulating in the best way possible and before he knows it you move up to his tip and bounce back down. his dick twitches and you feel it. every vein, every pulse, every movement, even his heavy breathing.

heeseung, not in control of his movements, bucks his hips up, making another non-existent inch fit inside your stretched out core.

you moan soft and loud, eyes rolling back, as the pain turned into pleasure. bouncing faster on his girthy cock, you uncontrollably clench around him, causing heeseung’s grip to tighten. you know it’ll bruise tomorrow, but at the moment, he feels too good for you to care.

the room smells of sex, and the only sounds that can be heard are skin clapping and your shared noises.

heeseung must notice your legs becoming tired because before you know it, you’re flat on your back with heeseung on top of you, cock never slipping out from your pussy.

his large hands grab each of your thighs, pressing them to your chest.

his pace is slow at first, testing the waters, getting a feel for a rhythm.

as his hands stay pressed to your thighs, he slowly drags out and pushes all of his dick inside you.

you feel him deeper in this position, a bulge forming in your lower belly.

when he notices, his eyes stay glued there.

you wonder what he’s looking at but the moment you look down, you’re met with his hand pressing slightly on the bulge causing the loudest moan to leave your lips.

he signals you to hold your thighs as one of his hands holds himself up and the other focuses on how he can feel his dick inside your guts with every thrust.

his pace suddenly quickens when you clench hard around him, making his hips stutter briefly.

endless praises leave his pretty lips, telling you how good you feel, how hot you look laid underneath him, taking whatever he gives you.

feeling a familiar, yet new sensation building rapidly, you try to warn him that you’re close but somehow, he already knows. “i know baby, let go whenever you want.” he mutters back, feeling just as close to his high.

“fuck– where do you want it?” he rushes out, not wanting to cum inside you if that isn’t what you want.

but apparently, all the gods are smiling down on him as you release your thighs from the grip you had on them and wrap your legs around his waist. “inside,” you moan.

and at that, he cums. hard. ropes of his hot, gooey, cum spill inside you. tipping you over the edge.

with a loud groan, clear liquid comes rushing out from you, spraying all over his sheets and lower abdomen. soaking his dick.

heeseung moans. again. raw and unfiltered at the fact that you just squirted all over him (he’s seen enough porn and heard too many stories from your shared friend group to know what squirting is).

as you come down from your high, heeseung is somehow still cumming. it spills out of you, creating an even stickier mess on his bed. but he doesn’t care.

not when you’re beneath him, chest rising rapidly, trying to catch your breath.

heeseung’s cock is still lodged inside you, holding half of his cum inside you, not wanting it to go to waste.

as he collapses on top of you, he places a soft kiss on your forehead, holding your trembling body close to his.

you were the first to speak, “i didn’t even know i could do that,” talking about how you squirted all over him. “guess we both had firsts today,” he softly chuckles.

his breath is warm against your skin, his arm tightening just a little around your waist as if anchoring himself in the moment. you don’t respond right away, too caught up in the quiet thrum of your heartbeat, the lingering warmth between you, the way his fingers begin tracing gentle, absent-minded shapes against your spine.

“i didn’t expect it to be like this,” you murmur, your voice almost lost in the hush of the room.

“like what?” he asks, voice low, like he’s afraid to shatter the calm.

you shift slightly to face him, resting your head more comfortably on his chest. “soft. safe.”

Hheeseung lets out a breath that sounds like relief and something deeper, something reverent. “yeah,” he whispers. “me neither.”

for a while, neither of you say anything. he pulls the blanket higher over both of you, his other hand brushing your hair back with such tenderness that it makes your eyes sting. he presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering like he means it.

“you okay?” he asks, voice still rough from earlier, but softer now, like the edge of him has been smoothed by your touch.

you nod, then glance up at him. “are you?”

heeseung meets your gaze, and something in his expression shifts. vulnerability bleeding through the cracks he used to hide behind. “i am now.”

your heart squeezes.

he licks his lips, nervous. “i’ve been so stupid with you. all this time, i kept pushing and pulling, thinking maybe if i kept it messy, it’d be easier to walk away if i had to.” he pauses, his voice thinning. “but tonight just… made me realize i don’t want to walk away.”

your breath catches. “heeseung…”

“i don’t want this to be a one time thing,” he says, eyes searching yours. “not the sex, not the closeness. i want you. the fights, the tension, the way you drive me crazy and still somehow make me want to be better just by being around you. i’m so in love with you, it hurts.”

your lips part in surprise, and he laughs quietly, self-deprecating and shy. “too much?”

instead of answering, you lean up and kiss him, slow, deep, and full of all the things you couldn’t say until now. when you pull back, you rest your forehead against his, smiling as his thumb brushes over your cheek.

“i’m in love with you too, idiot.”

he grins, wide and a little teary-eyed, and pulls you closer like he’s never letting go.

and you know he won’t have to.

pls reblog & leave feedback <3 hope you enjoyed the read ◡̈

[ @jaeyuniversal ] prod. 250417

3K notes · View notes

corameiwrites · 4 months ago

Text

𖦹 i want somebody to want 𖦹

pair: jason todd x gn!reader

plot: When you turn 21, the name of your soulmate appears on your forearm. Not everyone is born with a soulmate, and Jason Todd never thought he would have one.

wc: 2k

authors note: I remember reading in a fic somewhere about the Wayne Scholarship, and I forgot who/where I read it exactly, so credit to them whoever they are. Also, some characters may seem a little ooc and tbh I don't really care. I had fun writing this which is all that matters, and I hope you have fun reading it!

pt. 2

The place Dick had dragged Jason to wasn’t all that bad, considering it was located in Blüdhaven. Unless it was near the University area, there was always something sinister and more corrupt happening under the alcohol, vomit, and blood-stained floors of Gotham bars. Normally no amount of bribery or guilting could make him voluntarily dress up and go out drinking with his older brother, but today was not normal.

It was his twenty-first birthday.

Meaning that by 11:59 tonight, if a name didn’t appear somewhere on one of his arms, he was destined to be alone. Not everyone is born with a soulmate, and realistically, after all the shit he’s been through, Jason Todd never thought he would have one. Despite that, there was some sort of dread slowly filling his body the more he thought about it. Maybe it was that small flame of the little boy he used to be—before Robin and the Bat and the Joker—igniting at the chance of finally having one. It was the same boy who would trace his parents’ names on their wrist, asking them to tell him once more how they met, what they felt seeing the names appear on their skin. Unfortunately, that little boy would be let down yet again by the end of the night.

His plans had originally been to stay in his main apartment (the one where he stored all his books and indulged in a comfy couch), buy a 6-pack of the cheapest beer and get drunk alone. That was ruined, however, when he received multiple annoying texts from Dick, begging to go out for drinks tonight, specifying multiple times that it would be on him. Jason told himself the only reason he agreed was for the free drinks and to keep himself from checking his forearm every five goddamn seconds (a night out with Richard Grayson was known to be entertaining and unpredictable).

If it was Dicks plan to get Jason blackout drunk, he was doing a pretty good job of it. After agreeing he would be the designated driver, Dick had laid back on the drinks and only taken 3 of the five rounds of shots they had already ordered. Jason was opening up bit by bit, reminiscing on their childhood together. By his fifth shot, smiling seemed to come easier to Jason.

Currently, they were both watching the flatscreen hung behind the bar showing a news channel covering Batman and Robin putting an end to another bank robbery.

Dick pointed at the screen. “Damian learned that move from me.”

“No, I taught him that.”

“I’m the one who taught you that move when you were younger, big dummy,” Dick teased.

“Oh, I forgot.” Jason's tone lost its joking edge, and Dick looked over at him. “You know,” he continued almost somberly. “Ever since coming back, I seem to forget a lot of things.”

His eyes were glued to the screen, watching as Batman jumped out a window in pursuit of the bad guy. Robin shouted after him.

“You’ve been through hell and back, Todd. Normal people wouldn’t have been able to handle it the way you did.”

“No, you see, that's the thing.” Jason's voice was frustrated, his previous smiles gone. His brows furrowed the longer he ranted. “I’m not normal. I cycle through apartments and bunkers like crazy to help me lay low. I sleep in until 3 pm and I put a helmet on to chase down crazy guys with guns for hours at night. The public knows me as some traumatized kid who somehow survived a terrorist attack.” He pauses to take a gulp of beer, slamming the glass onto the bar, lifting his arm to wipe his mouth. Dick watched his jacket slip down his arm.

“Jason–”

“I don’t have a home, I don’t have a stable routine, I don’t even have life insurance!” Dick had somehow managed to get the former deceased and outlaw brother of his drunk and ranting about life. And the worst part? Nobody was ever going to believe him.

“Jason,” Dick puts a hand on his younger brother's shoulder, gripping him like a vice. His eyes never left his arm. “Your soulmate.”

Both of them are silent for a moment. Jason sighs, shaking his head.

“Damn, you're good at this.Yeah, it's about the soulmate thing.”

“You fucking idiot,” Dick slaps him on the back of his head. “Look at your arm!”

Dick watched as Jason stared him in the eyes, his brain clearly trying to catch up with what his brother was insinuating. When he finally looked down, it was comedic the way his eyes bulged at the fresh ink on his left arm. Dick tried his best to keep his excitement at bay, biting back his proud smile. His grumpy, tough, and borderline psychotic little brother had a soulmate. After a couple more seconds of silence, Jason cursed under his breath.

“I’m too sober for this,” Jason mumbled, chugging down the rest of his beer.

Dick laughs, waving the bartender over and handing him a card to close their tab. Jason slams the empty cup down, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. “I have a soulmate.”

“Yeah man, congratulations!” Dick pats his brother on the back, but recoils at Jason turning abruptly and staring him dead in the eye.

“I have a soulmate.”

“I…yeah, you do bud.”

“...I have a soulmate.” He repeats, annunciating each word, as if he can’t believe it. “I need to find them,” Jason says, standing and walking towards the exit of the bar.

“Woah, Jason–” Dick hurriedly stands, apologetically yelling for the bartender and grabbing his card. Rushing outside, he sees Jason recklessly crossing the street to the parking lot. “Slow down!”

Jason stands awkwardly next to Richard Grayson's blue convertible, clambering over the door and into the passenger seat. Dick watches from across the street, shaking his head with a smile, making his way to the car. He couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed with Jasons drunken behavior.

Hopping in the driver's seat, Dick puts the keys into the ignition. “Alright loverboy, where are we going?”

“The mansion,” Jason struggles to get his seatbelt on (Dick intervenes). “The Batcave’s computer can find anyone.”

“Huh. That’s actually really smart considering you're drunk.”

“I’m not. Just shut up and drive.”

Dick laughs, hitting the gas pedal and doing as he was told.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ♡ ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

Bruce was home early, having quickly left the bank robbers tied up as Gordons responsibility. Currently, he was sitting in the library going over a case file. Damian had already gone to bed when he had gotten an alert of a vehicle coming up the manor's driveway. He checked the security cameras in the garage and was shocked to see his eldest rushing to the passenger side of the car to stop his sluggish brother from falling out. At first, Bruce had thought that he was poisoned or impaired in some way. He called for Alfred, asking him to prepare the medical rooms to tend to Jason. A few short minutes later, he heard faint voices approaching.

“I used to live here before I died, I know where I’m going.”

“Clearly not, we passed the entrance already.”

“The old man has a sensor on that door. We need to take the entrance in one of the bookshelves, they don’t notify him when someone enters.” No one but Alfred was supposed to know that.

“I doubt it’ll matter, he’s out fighting crime with—oh shit!” Bruce watched through his freakish peripheral vision as two figures hurriedly backed away from the doorway of the library. “Code Bat! Code Bat!” Dicks voice had dropped to a whisper, though not so quiet that Bruce couldn’t hear.

“B’s here?” A head with a white streak of hair popped through the doorway before quickly vanishing. “Oh no.”

“It’s only 11:45, what is he doing lounging around?”

Bruce chuckled quietly, now coming to the realization that they weren’t drugged or in danger; they were just drunk. Jason especially, which made sense. Quietly, he sent Alfred a message telling him to disregard the request. He feigned ignorance to their presence, going as far as flipping pages of the case file in his lap while they bickered, attempting to formulate a plan. Listening in to their not very secretive conversation, Bruce deduced that they had come to find Jason's soulmate on the Bat computer. It was his 21st afterall, and why else would he come drunkenly to the home he tried so hard to stay away from? Bruce found himself smiling for the boy. He had been through so much, and he deserved to have some good in his life. He only hoped that whoever they were, they took care of him in places where Bruce failed.

Sighing exaggeratedly, he stood, stretched and slowly made his way to the doorway, listening as the two brothers hushed. He allowed himself one last second of respite before wiping the smile off his face and walking out into the dark hallway. Dick stood alone, leaning against the wall and whistling. He turned his head, seeing Bruce standing, observing him.

“Oh, hey Bruce! I’ve been looking for you.” Dick pushed off the wall, going to stand next to his Father. “I thought I’d visit, wait for you to get home, but you’re here!”

“What do you need?”

“Oh nothing much,” taking Bruce's arm, he began to drag him in the opposite direction, past the library. “I just got nostalgic, and wanted to take a trip down memory lane with my Pops.”

“You smell like alcohol.”

“Like I said, I was feeling nostalgic!”

Dick rattled on, leading him down the dark halls, and Bruce noticed Jason slipping into the library. He smiled, turning his attention back to his eldest. He couldn’t find himself to be angry about his sons keeping secrets from him. If he felt anything about tonight's endeavor, it was disappointment. Bruce Wayne had taught his sons to be sneakier than they had been tonight.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ♡ ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

Jason, in his drunken haste, had almost tripped down the short flight of steps leading to the massive computer. He couldn't really blame the alcohol though—it was his fault for looking down at his arm every couple seconds, as though the black ink would fade away before he ever found out who you were. Even if it did, he had already committed the name to memory.

He knew how many letters were in your name, the number of syllables in the different parts of it. Despite this, he hadn’t yet spoken it out loud. For the last 30 minutes of his life, every breath he took held a certain weight to it, and the beating of his heart had persisted to be about 120 beats per minute.

He blamed it on the alcohol, but logically he knew the reason.

That little boy—the one he thought was dead and buried—was coming back to life, crawling his way out of the depths of Jason and settling into his gut.

His hand shook as he typed the name, every click of the keyboard ringing dully in his skull. Inhaling deeply, Jason hesitated for only a moment before clicking enter. Your name popped up surprisingly quickly, specifically registered under the “Wayne Scholarship” file.

His hand moved by its own volition and the link was clicked, a government ID popping up on the display.

Staring up at the photo of you in awe, his eyes flickered to the name and back to the photo, unbelieving that this was you. Your simple beauty was evident even through the low quality government ID.

He stared for a while, just taking in you. It was a little odd looking at the huge screen, knowing that you two were made for each other. The thought only made his heart speed up even more.

Digging into your file, he finds that you’re 20 and won’t be turning 21 for another seven months. The knowledge that he knows and you don’t makes him nauseous.

Clenching the edge of the table, he remembers that the reason he found you so quick was due to the Wayne Scholarship. You moved to Gotham for your third year of college to attend Gotham University, with most of the tuition paid for as long as you agree to stay away from any and all crime. Suddenly, he had found another reason to be thankful that Bruce was filthy rich. Your current residence was an old apartment complex in the University area, which was for the most part, free of crime. The more information he got from Bruce Wayne's files, the more his stomach fluttered.

That little boy was practically jumping up and down inside of him, chanting over and over again, “I knew it! I knew we would have a soulmate!”. As the information sunk in, he began to shake more violently, and he felt like his legs were barely holding his weight. In fear of throwing up or collapsing on the floor (or both), he fell backwards into Bruce's chair. A tear slid down Jason’s cheek, and then another, and another.

For the first time in a long time, Jason Todd sobbed.

2K notes · View notes

farahkamal · 6 months ago

Text

🚨🚨‏Please Dont Skip-

-Don’t Ignore💔😡

-Help me😭💔

Hello, I am Farah Kamal from Gaza, I am 21 years old, a medical student at Al-Azhar University, we are a family of 5 people, I am talking to you from the midst of genocide, famine and displacement😭😭, before the war we had a beautiful house, a school where driving was taught and a big supermarket, our life was full of happiness, security and comfort. 💔Now after the war, unfortunately, 😭we have lost everything. We lost our house in the blink of an eye, the school burned down, 💔the supermarket was destroyed and my father lost his source of income. 😭Now we are homeless, without money, and when we were displaced from the north to the south, our belongings and clothes were taken and my father was taken at the checkpoint and we do not know anything about him😭😭. The most difficult thing is that we were left without my father. 💔💔There is no one who can work to provide for our needs. My older brother is now in high school and we cannot provide him with books or buy them, 😭💔and I cannot complete my studies in the Faculty of Medicine because of the high fees😭. My little brother needs clothes and healthy food, and my mother suffers from chronic diseases and has become severely weak in her eyesight and we cannot provide her with treatment. 😭I cannot describe to you the extent of our suffering at this time, as there is no healthy food or clean water and fear and danger do not go away around us and we are exposed to death at any time. 😭💔We tried to travel, but unfortunately they were demanding that each person pay $7,000 and we did not have this amount to travel and escape death and bombing.😭💔 We are still suffering to this day. I hope that you will help me provide treatment for my mother and complete my studies in medicine and provide the necessities of life for my family, whether food, drink, clothes or shelter. 💔💔And to get out as soon as possible if the Rafah crossing is opened because then we will have to pay $ 28,000 We live a life of helplessness, oppression and despair, 🤦🏼‍♀️and we spent more than a year under bombing and fire in a canvas tent that did not protect us from the cold of winter or from the insects of strange seasons and serious diseases, please do not ignore our urgent appeal, 💔💔a small donation from each person will make a difference and save our lives, together we can rebuild our lives and restore and shape a future full of hope and 🙏🏻🙏🏻❤️❤️freedom. I trust in your humanity Thank you❤️🙏🏻

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #436 )✅️

@nabulsi27 @90-ghost

#free palestine #free gaza #send help #please #support

2K notes · View notes

baronessvonglitter · 1 year ago

Text

Sweet Summer Peach

dbf!Joel Miller x f!Reader | wc: 3.7K

Summary: when your dad's best friend Joel catches you with his younger brother Tommy, it sets off a spark of jealousy that can only be tamed by showing you how a real man treats a woman.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, big ol' girthy age gap (reader is between 18-21, Joel is in his 50s, Tommy is in his 40s), Tommy is a womanizer and Joel's just trying to save you from him while also getting a little of you for himself, innocence kink, first time/loss of virginity, fingering, dry humping, truck sex on a hot day in July, unprotected p in v sex (not stated whether reader is on birth control but we'll assume she is), creampie, come eating, praise and pet names (angel, darlin', baby from Joel; sugar, sweetheart from Tommy) definitely a daddy kink as you've known Joel your whole life and he's like a second father to you, once again your dad is clueless as to what's going on, reader is also Sarah's best friend but she is only mentioned not seen. Reader has hair that Joel can pull and wears a bikini and a sundress. No use of y/n.

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

"Why don't you ditch that silly little wine cooler and let me give you a taste of somethin' else, sugar?" Tommy Miller's voice is sinful in your ear. "Somethin' a little stronger."

It's over a hundred degrees outside, with no comfort in the shade. The Millers are hosting their annual Fourth of July barbecue, and plenty of people are over, eating, drinking, chatting, swimming in the brand new pool. You've known Tommy and his older brother Joel for years, the latter your dad's best and oldest friend. You and Sarah, Joel's daughter, have been best friends as long as you can remember, being the same age and living just across the street from each other. Joel himself has always been like a second father to you, having watched you grow up. He took you and Sarah to ball games, to the zoo, on fishing expeditions, helped with homework, practically helped raise you. Sarah was his Baby, and you were his Angel.

Tommy, on the other hand, hasn't seen you in years. But he definitely likes the woman you've grown to be.

He's been making eyes at you all afternoon, not-so-subtle glances your way, obviously enticed by your new, revealing bikini. You're garnering a lot of attention from people today, just as you'd expected when you bought it. Your dad would sure have some comments to make on how underdressed you are, but he's not here, working until the evening, and you're taking advantage of your freedom.

Tommy awaits your answer, and with your drink gathering condensation in your hand, you tell him, "Okay," with a soft smile.

He takes your hand, fingers weaving around yours. "Let's dip into the house for a few minutes," he murmurs, eyes gleaming with mischief. Taking a quick look around you notice Joel's eyes on you, his gaze unreadable but you can sense he's on the verge of moving to stop you. But the sight of his glare only serves to stoke the fire of your excitement. It's highly likely he does not like watching Tommy lead you away to privacy.

"Where are you takin' me?" you ask, a giggle bubbling in your throat as you leave your drink behind. He's guiding you to the side entrance of the house, down the hall and to a small den. The blast of the AC hits you with sweet relief and you nearly sigh with satisfaction.

"Away from all the heat," he says, gently pushing you to the wall.

"Tommy," you giggle, half anxious, half excited.

His hands go immediately to your hips, his grip warm and firm as he pulls you close. A low, primal growl rumbles through his chest and he leans in, his nose brushing against your neck. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I got ya." His breath his hot against your skin, his teeth graze your throat, sending a shiver of want down your spine.

"You like that, sugar?" he whispers, his hands exploring your soft thighs, caressing upwards until they brush against the fabric of your bikini.

"More.." your voice comes out in a whimper.

Tommy's eyes gleam with pleasure at your desperate plea. "Greedy girl." His fingers find their way beneath your bikini bottom, gliding across your folds, grinning when you begin to grow even more wet under his touch. He teases without pushing inside, wanting to see you grow absolutely uninhibited with need. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" he teases.

"Not.. used to bein' touched like this," you tell him, brow furrowed in concentration of desire.

"Mm. I can tell." His touch is gentle and insistent, seeking out the spots that make your knees buckle. "You only ever had your own fingers in ya? That it?" He drinks in your sounds of pleasure as you nod at his question. He traces over your clit, watching your hips jerk. "There ya go.." he coaxes, lips on your neck as he continues touching and teasing you. "You like that, huh? Like how I'm touchin' ya?" His fingers circle your clit until you feel yourself grow tighter and tighter, soon to unwind..

"Yes.. yes.. oh my god, oh my god," you moan, and when you open your eyes Joel is there, watching both of you. He looks pissed. You shriek as you meet his searing gaze.

"Get your fuckin' hands off her," he growls menacingly.

Your blood freezes and you're vaguely aware of Tommy's fingers slipping away as he moves from you. Then as you realize your state of dress you try to fix your disheveled bikini, a feeble attempt to cover yourself. "Joel.. I'm sorry," you whisper.

Joel's eyes stay locked on you, a possessive rage smoldering in his black depths. He steps towards you, his movements deliberate and calculated, like a predator stalking its prey. "Sorry?" he mocks. "What the fuck are you doin' in here with my little brother's hands all over ya?"

"I.. I wasn't thinking." It's the truth. For once you'd let your hormones think for you.

His expression hardens. "You weren't thinkin'? That's all you have to say?" His gaze flicks to Tommy, the simmering anger still present in his eyes. "You. Get out," he commands, his voice sharp and authoritative.

Tommy hesitates briefly, all former bravado gone in the presence of his older brother's ire, and leave you and Joel alone.

You feel ashamed, scared, still dizzy with desire if you're honest, the ache Tommy created in you still lingering. "Joel, I'm sorry.. you won't tell my dad, will you?"

Joel's gaze is intense. "You're damn right I won't. Your daddy would rip my brother limb from limb if he found out what just happened." He steps closer to you, his eyes roaming your body, taking in your scantily clad appearance. "But you and I, darlin', we need to clear some things up."

"Like what?" you ask in a small voice, expecting the worst.

"First: I don't want you alone with Tommy ever again. Am I understood?" His voice drops to a low growl. "Second: I'm not done with you, angel. You're comin' with me."

Despite knowing you're in trouble already, you're recalcitrant. "You can't tell me what to do! I'm not a child anymore!"

Joel's eyes flash with anger, and before you can react, his hand quickly clamps around your wrist, his grip firm but not painful. "You're actin' like a child, darlin'. Now you can either come with me quietly, or you can put up a fight and I'll carry you outta here. Your choice."

For some reason the thought of him carrying you out sends a jolt straight to your center. But you relent. "Fine," you growl back. Joel hands you your sundress and you put it on, not caring to ask why he had it in his possession while you were in here with Tommy.

"Good girl," he mutters, leading you to his truck outside. He opens the door for you, the gentlemanly gesture a stark difference from his earlier demeanor. As you get in, Joel climbs into the driver's seat, his large frame filling the small space.

"Where are we goin'?" you ask as he starts up the engine and drives away with you.

He doesn't turn to look at you as he drives, his grip on the steering wheel white-knuckled and tense. "Somewhere we can talk, darlin'," he says gruffly. "Somewhere my meddlin' brother can't get his hands on ya."

You blush with shame as you think of what Joel saw you doing with Tommy, even though it was mostly innocent. "You don't see me as your little angel no more. do you?"

Joel's gaze flicks to you for a moment, his expression showing disappointment. "You stopped bein' an angel the moment you let my brother touch ya."

He pulls his pickup into a dirt parking lot, the location surrounded by trees and secluded from prying eyes.

"Better him than someone I don't know," you say lamely, looking around the deserted area.

"That's a low bar, angel," Joel mutters, voice thick with restraint. "You're not the only one who's noticed ya, darlin'. Hell, the whole damn town's been watchin' ya grow up."

"Tommy's the one who approached me. It wasn't my fault."

"Of course. He'd be blind not to want ya," he mutters darkly. "But you're not the first girl he's had his eye on, baby, and you ain't gonna be the last either."

It stings, but you try not to let it show. "I'm not tryna marry him, we were just havin' fun."

Joel scoffs, his eyes betraying his jealousy. "Fun, huh? Is that what you call it? You have no idea what my brother is like. He's no good for you. You're too young, too innocent, too damn pure."

"Evidently I'm no longer pure by your standards," you shoot back, arms crossed. "A girl can't enjoy herself without bein' a slut, right?"

His jaw clenches. "That's not what I meant. You're not just some toy for my brother to play with and toss aside. You don't know what he could do to you."

You remember Tommy's gentle, sure touch, the way his fingers glided over your most secret parts. "I got a sense of what he could do to me," you can't resist goading Joel. "And it felt so good.."

Joel looks like he's trying to swallow glass. "I bet he made you feel things you've never felt before, didn't he?"

"Almost.. not quite.." Blush fills your face.

"You mean he didn't make you come."

To have it put so bluntly makes you blush all over again. "No.. he didn't."

Joel wets his lips. "I bet it drove you crazy, havin' him touch you like that and not bein' able to finish.. must've driven you wild, huh?"

This is crazy. This conversation is crazy. This whole thing is crazy! It's like you're a kid again and Joel's trying to explain the birds and the bees because your own father doesn't want to.

"Yeah," you answer softly. "It's like an ache that won't go away."

His gaze darkens, drinking in the image of you all desperate, unable to get what you want. "And you're still achin', aren't ya, darlin'?" His voice is low, husky, intimate.

You feel small under his gaze, like a piece of meat being dangled before a hungry lion, like Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. "Yes," comes your whispered reply.

Joel leans close, his large hands reaching out to cup your face. "Tell me what you want, angel."

He's giving you a choice, unlike Tommy who did what he wanted to do. Joel is giving you a choice.. "Make this ache go away for me.. please.."

His desire burns fiercely as he hears the plea in your voice. "You sure that's what you want, baby? Because once you let me in, there ain't no goin' back." His hands slide down to caress your neck, his touch both possessive and gentle.

You whimper. Once you let me in.. You're a fool not to think he means anything else. "I'm sure," you whisper, keeping your gaze on his dark eyes.

It sounds like a dare, like a threat, as he says, "All right, darlin'. You asked for it," and grabs hold of your waist, pulling you onto his lap so you're straddling him. You let out an involuntary gasp. His hands slide down from your waist to grab handfuls of your round ass, squeezing and kneading your cheeks firmly. "I've had a mind to do this for a long damn while," he growls. "You've been fillin' out lately, and those tight little shorts you wear 'round my house ain't doin' nothin' but teasin' my cock."

All your breath leaves you, the way he's grabbing you sends waves of heat and longing throughout your body.

His eyes burn as he feels your reaction to his touch. "You like that, baby?" he continues to grab and squeeze. "I've had to look at those tight little shorts of yours every time you come over.. always showin' off that perfect peach. Even now, this lil' sundress ain't barely coverin' anything." He kneads your cheeks again, giving them a light slap each.

You gasp at the sweet little stings, and each insistent knead of his hands on your ass pushes you forward onto his hard-on that tents his jeans. "That's it, angel. Ride my lap, just like that," he grunts. Your palms are planted on his shoulders, fingers gripping tightly as you grind yourself against him. Your heart is liable to shoot out of your chest but he feels so damn good, and so dangerous. "Like this?" you ask.

"Yeah, just like that, baby." Joel looks up at you, the mask of his authority slipping just a little as he watches you. "You feel that? That's what this pretty lil' ass does to me." Another quick little slap on your butt.

"Mm hmm," you reply, too caught up in the feeling to give a proper reply. "Oh my, I'm makin' such a mess on you," you whisper, noticing the wet spot on his jeans where you've been grinding on him without a care.

"Don't worry about me, darlin'. That's what I want." His voice is thick with desire and need. "I want you all wet and messy for me."

Jesus, the man knows just what to say.. "Joel," you whine. "You said you'd make the ache go away but you only made it worse.."

He quirks a brow. "That so? Well then I better do somethin' about that." One hand snakes its way between your bodies, his fingers easily finding your pussy through the thin material of your bikini bottom. You bite your lip as a curse word leaves your mouth, your head tilted back as he finds you wet and wanting. His fingers glide easily through your folds. "You're soaked, angel." He presses a kiss against your neck, grazing his teeth upon your skin as his fingers finally enter you, pressing into your sweet, welcoming warmth.

Brows furrowed, you start moving against his touch, sighing darkly as you feel his gentle love bite. "It's all.. for you," you sigh.

"I know it is, darlin'. Always has been." As his fingers rock inside you his thumb rubs small circles against your clit.

You ride his fingers, your breath shaking, gasping at the sweet intrusion. "Joel.. don't stop.. don't stop, I'm gonna come!"

"Go on, angel," he gruffs out. "Come for me.."

He holds you tight as you come undone on his lap, your pussy walls contracting around his fingers. "That's it.. good girl.." he praises. He withdraws them gently, shiny and covered in your thick, stringy slick. In a haze of pleasure you watch as he brings them to his lips, licking them clean. "You taste even better than I dreamed."

"Let me taste," you whisper, grabbing him for a kiss and swirling your tongue against his, tasting the remnants of your fulfillment. Your heart leaps as he goes to unbuckle his belt, and your body pulsates with unbridled need that overshadows all other thoughts.

"I need to be inside ya, darlin'."

"Yes.. please," you beg shamelessly.

"Lift up, angel," he whispers, pulling his jeans and boxers down halfway as you give him room. His cock springs up from his nest of dark brown wiry curls: a perfect, slightly curving length, thick and veiny, reaching up past his belly button, his precum already dribbling from the tip. His balls are heavy and full, lifting slightly as he pulls on himself, getting him primed for you. "You ready for me, baby?" he asks, voice low and thick with desire.

"Yes," you nod eagerly.

With your bikini bottom pushed to the side, he puts you over him again and starts to press into you. A deep, guttural groan rumbles from his chest as he firmly holds your hips. You gasp at the surrealness of the moment, straddling him in the driver's seat of the truck he taught you how to drive in just a couple short years ago. You whimper his name as you take a little of him at a time.

He claims your lips in a deep kiss, tongue delving into your mouth as he slowly sinks deeper inside you. Just when you think it's impossible to fit all of him, his kiss eases the way and you sink further down. "God," you sigh.

"You're doin' so good, baby. You feel so damn good around me," he soothes, completely. He starts to lift you up, to go slow and steady as already you're dripping onto him, your juices flowing down his shaft and drenching his pubes. You spread your thighs wider, feeling every inch of him inside you, a pleasure and yet a small pain. "Let me feel you like this for a little bit," you tell him, sheathing him with care.

"Whatever you want, darlin'. It's all yours," he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, trying to still his heart, trying to catch his god damn breath.

"All mine," you whisper back, your breath tickling his ear. "My first.." You kiss him again and let your tongue tease his.

"Damn right," he growls. "And I'm gonna make sure you remember it forever. You're gonna feel me for days.." With that he starts to move, slowly, generating the friction your unsatisfied body so craves. "Grind yourself on me, just like that," he whispers, pulling the front of your sundress down to reveal your bikini top, and peels that back to expose your breasts, your nipples like pert raspberries. He palms them roughly before tasting each one, swirling his tongue around one bud while pinching the other.

You squirm in his lap, moving up and down his shaft, coating him with your cream. "You're so fucking deep," you moan, cupping his head as he feasts on your tits.

"There ya go.. take all of me. Lemme fill ya up," he grunts. His body tenses under yours as you speed up, mesmerized as your tits bounce up and down right in front of him. "That's it.. ah, such a good girl for me. How much more ya want? How much can ya handle?"

"I want.. fuck!.. I want more," you moan. "Fuck me, Joel!"

At your command he thrusts up, deep and rough, pulling your hair back so he can watch your body, gleaming with sweat, pulsate with pleasure as he taps into your primal need. The truck windows are fogged up as the vehicle gently bounces with your movements. His long, thick fingers leave marks on your hips and your ass cheeks.

He pistons up into you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing in the truck, along with his grunts and the heavenly crescendo of your sweet moans. He keeps up the rigorous pace and you're on the edge, about to topple over into bliss. "Come on, baby," he urges you. "Yeah, that's it.. come for me.."

Only a few more fierce, upward thrusts and you come, with him nestled in up to the hilt so that every inch of him can feel you quake with pleasure. Your pussy flutters and convulses around him as you rear your head back, basking in the sublime pleasure. Joel follows soon after, unable to resist as he comes deep inside you. You give a little gasp at the warm bursts of his release, unlocking something primal in you. "Give me every drop," you whisper.

"It's all yours, darlin'," he hisses, holding onto you as he pumps stream after stream of his thick white cum within you.

Your eyes meet as he finally stills, slumping back down in his seat, still holding you close so you can feel the thundering beat of one another's hearts. "God.. you filled me up," you say in amazement, feeling him drip out of you already though he hasn't made a move to disengage from you yet.

"Imma fill you up any damn time you want," he rumbles. "Even if I gotta sneak into your room at night. Your daddy ain't gonna know a thing."

You bite your lip, realizing he's not kidding, he's not giving promises he doesn't mean to keep. "He'd probably kill you if he knew what we just did."

Joel's eyes burn with a determination that scares you a little. "Well he ain't gonna ever know. I got ways of keepin' things quiet." He gazes at you and his eyes soften, as if he's looking upon the most beautiful and innocent thing in all the world. "I always knew I wanted ya, ever since you turned into such a sweet little treat."

His phone rings and he groans when he realizes it's your father. He puts a hand over your mouth even though you wouldn't dare let on that you're with him, and makes the conversation as quick as possible before hanging up. "We better go, darlin'. Your daddy's waitin', wonderin' where you are," he says casually, as if he hadn't just had a conversation with your dad while balls-deep inside you.

You lift yourself off him wincing a little at the soreness between your thighs. The remnants of Joel's sticky seed start to trickle down your leg. He runs his thumb along your inner thigh, gathering his cum and brings it to your lips. You suck the salty fluid off his thumb. "I'm not wasting any of it," you tell him, licking your lips as you swallow.

"God damn," he mutters hotly. "You're killin' me, angel," he says, helping you arrange your clothes so you're decent again.

"Not anymore.. you just turned this angel into a devil.."

"Hey pumpkin, where ya been?" your dad greets you as you get out of Joel's truck in his driveway. Walking is a little painful as you're still sore, but you try to act natural.

"Beer run," Joel answers for you, holding up a twelve-pack of Corona Extra.

"Joel took me on a ride," you can't help saying, "It was fun." His cum is still collecting in your swimsuit bottom. "Hey Daddy, Sarah asked me to spend the night with her, so I'll be here all night. Is that okay with you, Joel?" You suppress a smirk as you address both the men.

Joel's heart rate spikes and his imagination runs wild in the quick span of a moment before he says, "Of course it is. You're always welcome here."

And later, when the Fourth of July fireworks cast their multi-colored lights on the black horizon, no one notices as you and Joel sneak away together, the booms overhead concealing your noises of gratification.

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel smut #joel tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #ao3 smut #ao3 fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro boys

3K notes · View notes

amarriageoftrueminds · 1 year ago

Text

TL;DR: It's not true that Tony didn't have any involvement with weapons at the time. The Maximoffs were killed in 1999. By that point, Tony had already been "merchant of death" and CEO of Stark Industries for 8 years.

Long answer:

IM1 specifically said of that period:

"...at age 21, the prodigal son returns and is anointed the new CEO of Stark Industries. With the keys to the kingdom, Tony usher[ed] in a new era for his father's legacy, creating smarter weapons, advanced robotics, satellite targeting. Today, Tony Stark has changed the face of the weapons industry..."

In other words, Tony's presence is framed as the thing which triggered the creation of smarter weapons (among other things, too). There's no indication that he started on the weapons part later on.

(In fact, he is personally credited with having changed the weapons industry. Not his father, not the company generally: Tony. And not the robotics or satellite industries, either.)

As Pepper said in IM3, Stark Industries profited off military contracts.

At the end of 1999, the year the Maximoffs were killed, Tony was in Bern, Switzerland for New Years Eve, famous enough to be delivering a lecture on integrated circuits at Bern 2000, while drunk. And important enough in the weapons industry for A.I.M founder Aldrich Killian and Extremis-inventor Maya Hansen to be trying to give him elevator pitches.

So he's a famous weapons designer, canonically- what, 800 miles away? -from Sokovia, doing science stuff, publicly, in the same year... but he's got nothing to do with his company's missiles being there? 🤨

By the time Tony was 40 in IM1, eleven years after the Maximoffs died, he had already designed the Jericho missile, was making personal pitches to the US Army, had a long-time buddy in the US Air Force, and was beloved of American soldiers (why? what's he done for them? obvious answer: designed weapons). And he was not acting as if any of this was a new or recent development for him.

Tony was building circuit boards when he was 4, engines when he was 6, robots when he was 16, graduated early from MIT at 17, and was CEO at 21. The implication of Tony being a wunderkind is that he was capable of making people-killing designs for a lot longer / from a much earlier age than you'd think.

In both IM1 and IM3 he was shown capable of making weapons from scratch by hand, with limited resources and without a computer's help (and weapons were his first idea; not, say, robots. He describes himself as a mechanic... but he doesn't make a machine. He makes improvised bombs and guns.)

He also had a pocket-sized "very powerful weapon" on him, for his personal use (which he gives to a child). Where'd that come from? It's antithetical to Tony's ego to be carrying something he didn't design himself, given the way he sneers at other weapons designers. So chances are that's a weapon Tony designed... years after claiming to be out of the weapons designing industry.

It's similar to the one Obadiah Stane used on Tony in IM1. And Stane said "you remember this one?" as he deployed it on Tony. So chances are… that thing was Tony's design too. (We don't know for sure. But we do know for sure that it was designed by Tony's company, that he was in charge of). Yet Tony still had something similar by the time of IM3: his weapons producing habits didn't alter outside the timeline of the movies; only his sales habits.

Also relevant: Stane described Tony as the goose that laid the golden eggs (viz. weapons designs) and that killing him would cause a fall off in designs. Because he wanted control over sales of weapons that Tony designed, including the ones government didn't approve. So Tony didn't just design weapons, he designed unethical weapons, and continued to do so even after falling victim to said weapons himself and (therefore) claiming to be out of the weapons designing business.

Sidenote: Unlike his daddy, who only "helped give us the atomic bomb" with US government backing. Howard made weapons with government backing, whereas post-IM1 Tony believes he's doing it outside of government control / believes he's not an arms dealer just because he's only dealing arms to Americans. But... he gives his designs to the USAF free of charge... and to daddy's corrupt American alphabet agency... despite already finding out they were hiding things from him way back in Avengers1... and then he signed the Sokovia Accords. 🤦‍♀️ (And this isn't even including his work on Project Insight and Insight 2.0, aka E.D.I.T.H.)! You can really see where the writing failed to point out the delusion and hypocrisy, here!

Ergo: Tony has always been a weapons designer and truly never stopped, so designing and selling a missile that killed the Maximoffs is totally within his wheelhouse. He didn't for some reason suddenly become inept / unconnected to weapons design, during the period of the Maximoff's death, just because it's icky and he was in his 20s at the time. 🤷‍♀️

(And I don't think it's a coincidence either that Tony's baby Ultron is obsessed with "peace", and tells Wanda "men of peace create engines of war," War Machines if you will, when Tony specifically keeps framing himself as creating a "peacekeeping initiative", having "privatized world peace" etc. right before the scene where Pietro describes how their parents were killed by one. You are meant to see the connection to Tony, not just the Stark company.)

However: what we don't know is whether that specific missile that killed the Maximoffs... was one of Tony's designs, or Howards, and/or when it was bought.

In AOU (2015) Strucker's Hydra base fired missiles on the nearby Sokovian city, and the locals reacted with hostility to the appearance of Iron Legion bots (Tony's proprietary tech). If the same base deployed the Stark missiles that killed the Maximoffs in 1999, then you could interpret that as showing the connection between the Starks and SHIELDra. (Though it makes the idea that the twins would then volunteer to work at that base... completely baffling?? 😵)

The missile that killed their parents could've been one of Howard Stark's designs from the 19?0s, kept in storage for years before it was deployed in 1999. But it's equally possible that it was a brand new design of wunderkind Tony's, recently sold to SHIELDra.

But that is irrelevant.

Because either way Tony did still get the profits from that missile sale. He was an active part of Stark Industries weapons designs already, on the same continent, and made money off the thing that killed the twins' parents. He still should have apologised; or at least paid compensation or something (what did he profit from those missile sales, I wonder? How much does one cost?)

The fact that Tony may or may not have personally designed and sold that specific missile (or if he didn't personally assemble it, with his own bare hands) is immaterial when he was the one who reaped the rewards. It'd be like claiming Elon Musk isn't to blame if someone was killed in the emerald mine he inherited from his father, when he also happens to run a 'making things that kill people in emerald mines' company.

The real problem is the double standard of protagonist-centered morality.

Wanting to kill the person responsible for your family's death is framed as villain/antagonist behaviour when Wanda, Pietro, Vanko, T'Challa, Zemo, various Spidey characters, etc. do it. But Tony is allowed to want to kill someone actually innocent of voluntarily killing his parents (which Tony admits to knowing, mid-fight) and still be regarded as a hero.

Everyone else is made to either nobly give up their desire for revenge (as a sign of their heroic nature), realise they were targeting the wrong person (as a sign of acquired wisdom), or both... or remain a villain. But not Tony. 😕 Tony tries to kill the wrong person and someone extra just out of spite, and he gets apologised to!

And so far from personally apologising to Wanda, they never have scenes together (ditto Bucky), and CACW has Tony shifting the blame off himself and mansplaining to Wanda & the gang how they don't care about civilian casualties like he does... after yet another Stark design murdered her twin brother! And by EG, he's back to claiming that Ultron (indistinguishable from Hydra's Project Insight, and what Baron Strucker was working on) was a great idea anyway!

The one thing that frustrates me about Wanda hating Tony and blaming him for what happened to her parents was that he didn’t have any real involvement with weapons at the time and he didn’t have any change to apologize or clear up anything about it and we can all blame the writers instead of blaming Wanda or Tony

#obadiah stane #mcu critical #antitony #and then wanda AND bucky are... at his funeral?? because?? why??#but yes the writers are dicks #in the sense that nothing mcu tony does is ever properly addressed as [what they designate] villain behaviour that ought to cost him things #he's allowed to just throw a quick 'my bad' into the middle of a glib sentence and that's it (and then prove he didn't mean it anyway)#man saw hydra had the exact same idea as him and was like 'great now ~I get to do it!' he is such a chip off the old block #needs jeff goldblum from jurassic park to come in and slap him for always doing BadThing with science #have you noticed that the later IM appearances all try to walk back the fact that tony was a weapons designer & arms dealer?#IM1 is all 'woo look at my arms I am here to deal personally which I personally designed so well that ppl would kidnap me to do it again'#but IM2 has tony insisting the IM suit isn't a weapon... despite the end fight where it has a laser cannon and fires missiles 🤦‍♀️#and the big boss fight is between tony/rhodey and... iron man drones and... a man in an iron man suit 🤦‍♀️ (just like IM1)#and during the fight they criticise hammer tech's weapons (that rhodey conducted an arms deal for) for... being shit #(shit compared to... whose? those weapons tony just deployed? that don't exist? because he doesn't make weapons any more?? 🤔)#(so it's not weapons designing that's bad - it's INEPT weapons designing? and it's not arms dealing that's bad but being ripped off?)#IM3 has pepper saying they don't deal in weaponizable tech (but comparing the company to... WERNHER VON BRAUN'S NASA?? 😭)#when the bad guys again use iron man suits AND SHE PERSONALLY uses one to murder the bad guy in the end 🤦‍♀️#and then CACW has tony saying he wonders what his father felt about what 'HIS' company did...#my brother in christ... that is YOUR company.... that is what YOU did since you were 21! not just howard!#YOU personally ushered in a new age for the weapons industry!#all of this wouldn't be a problem if they: a) framed tony as a currently-trying-to-reform-himself ex villain (interesting!)#b) gave him actions that are actually opposite to badthings he did before not just the same badthings only dubbed heroic now #OP sorry to hijack I always intend to write sth pithy but keep thinking up new things to add til it ends up like this 👆#mcu meta #mcu salt #tony meta

24 notes · View notes

aeralux · 4 months ago

Text

"Feel It" - Lucerys Velaryon

Modern!AU Stepbrother!Lucerys x OlderStepsister!Reader

Summary: Since moving in with your new stepdad Harwin, things have been more than chaotic. Your hair products are used up, and all the chores are left on your shoulders to carry. Lately, though, you've noticed a certain article of clothing going missing from your dirty laundry basket- your panties. And you're damn determined to get them back... while simultaneously teaching your stepbrother a lesson.

Warnings: SMUT 18+; cunnilingus; handjob; virgin!Lucerys (I see a pattern here); whiny boy; kind of mean reader, but she also praises Luke; stepcest; panty sniffing; lots of “good boy”; masturbation; submissive leaning!Lucerys

Words: 8.9k

Notes: In this story, all characters are of legal age. Jacaerys is 21-22 years old, while Lucerys is 19, with the reader being slightly older. Feel free to imagine different ages, but these are the ones I used while writing this story. There is no physical description of the reader, except that she is female. If you do not feel comfortable with any of the warnings, please do not read. I am not responsible for the media you consume.

𐔌 . ⋮ aera .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

Ever since moving in with your mother's new serious boyfriend, Harwin, life had taken on a new, chaotic rhythm. No longer was it just you and your mom in your cosy three-bedroom apartment. Now, you found yourself in a big house that felt overwhelming, complete with a large backyard, a sparkling pool, and a patio perfect for lazy afternoons. It was easy to see why your mom had fallen for Harwin—he was handsome, charming, and undeniably wealthy. Sometimes you thought, with a hint of amusement, that you might have liked him too if he weren't your stepfather.

Harwin was genuinely a nice man. He always made an effort to be kind and considerate, never pushing to replace your biological dad, and he respected your space.

But the real challenge began with his two sons. You had only glimpsed them in passing while visiting the house. Harwin and your mother had agreed to wait until things felt serious before you met, so now you were living with three near strangers.

Jacaerys was closest to your age, and you could sense the instant rivalry between you, even if you didn’t know him well. He was confident and had an attitude that seemed to dare you to challenge him. Lucerys, a few years younger, had a carefree spirit but could be just as devilish as his older brother. And then there was Joffrey, the youngest and, in your opinion, the least troublesome. He was the one who often stayed out of trouble and seemed to want to make things easier for you genuinely.

While Joffrey quietly supported you—snitching on his brothers and sharing snacks during your study sessions—Jace and Luke relentlessly wanted to annoy you. They would blast music that echoed through the halls, turning your moments of peace into a lively party you never asked for. They also had a habit of stealing your hair products, needing them to style their pretty brown curls. And as for chores? They had the ability to vanish just when there was work to be done, leaving you to do everything on your own.

Despite the challenges, you appreciated Joffrey’s companionship. He seemed to prefer a sister figure, bringing a sense of connection that comforted you amidst the chaos of living with his irritating brothers. It was clear his brothers didn’t appreciate it, sometimes being even jealous of yours and the 17-year-old's bond.

Lately, however, a thought had begun to creep into your mind. You were used to the occasional missing sock here and there, but when your favourite pairs of panties and thongs started to vanish, you couldn’t help but suspect Luke and Jace.

You knew better than to just confront them outright. You’d tried that with Jace once, and it hadn’t gone well. It turned into an argument where he insisted he already had plenty of underwear from other girls, which only made you more suspicious.

No, this required a clever plan. You decided to gather the boys' laundry instead. It wouldn’t look suspicious at all. After all, you liked doing the laundry and the lighter chores around the house. So, you made your way to Joffrey's room, where you could hear the familiar sounds of his Nintendo Switch.

“Hey, do you have any laundry for me to do? Lights and darks, I’ll be doing both today!” you called out, trying to sound casual as you knocked on his door.

“Yeah, they’re in the grey box,” he mumbled, barely glancing up from the screen. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his nonchalance. “I better not find a hard sock in there!” you joked back, and you heard a muffled “Ugh! Shut up!” in response, which made you smile as you left with his dirty clothes.

Next, you headed to Jace’s room, where the loud blaring of classic rock music spilt into the hallway. You didn’t even knock; you just pushed the door open and announced, “Laundry.” It was a given that he’d have a pile waiting.

Jace groaned and looked up from his textbook, his expression a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “Can’t you knock first, seriously?” he shot back, slouching against his desk. His gaze landed on the laundry basket you were carrying, and he rolled his eyes. “Oh great, laundry day.”

He stood up and walked over to his closet, digging around to grab a handful of wrinkled clothes and tossing them into your basket. “Anything else you need, Miss Perfect?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from his words.

You rolled your eyes, feeling irritation and something else entirely. There was that infuriating smirk again. It was maddening how attractive he was, even while being the most annoying person in your life. The universe had played a cruel joke on you.

You glanced into the basket; it felt unexpectedly heavy, even for him. “What have you got in here? A fucking rock?” you mocked, lifting it slightly to emphasize your point.

His smirk widened at your jab, clearly enjoying the banter. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Aw, someone’s a bit sensitive today, huh? Don’t worry; I’m sure there’s nothing too interesting in my laundry.” He patted the basket, the sheer weight of it making you wonder just how many clothes he had stuffed in there.

“Maybe I just have a lot of clothes, princess,” he said, his tone playful yet infuriatingly smug.

You huffed in response, bracing yourself as you lifted the basket. It was heavy, and you could feel the embarrassment creeping in from the struggle. The weight and his knowing smirk made you want to scream, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

“Just don’t be surprised when your whites come back pink,” you shot back with a scowl as you turned to leave, making your way to the storage room to get started on the first load of laundry.

After starting the first load, you made your way to Lucerys' room, where he had no clue you were on your way.

Lucerys let out a whimper as he felt his cock throb in his hand, the silky fabric of your panties wrapped tightly around his shaft. He couldn't believe he was doing this, masturbating with his stepsister's underwear like some kind of pervert. But the thought of you, of the way your ass would look in these tiny thongs, was too much to resist.

"Fuck…" he moaned softly, his hips bucking up into his fist as he stroked himself. The lace was already damp with his pre-cum, the sticky fluid coating his fingers as he pumped faster.

Lucerys' mind raced with dirty thoughts, imagining pinning you down and fucking your tight little cunt until you screamed. He wanted to fill you up, to pump you full of his hot, thick seed until it was leaking out of you. The idea of breeding his stepsister, of watching your belly swell with his child, made him throb even harder.

"God yes… gonna knock you up…" he panted, his voice rising in desperation. "Take my cum… fucking take it all…" he whined, his strokes becoming erratic. Quickly placing the thongs on his face instead, wanting to smell you.

"F-Fuck…" he whimpered, his green eyes glazing over with lust as he breathed in your scent. His right hand was wrapped around his hard cock, pumping it slowly as he sniffed your underwear.

Lucerys's breath came in short, desperate gasps as he tugged at his aching member, the slick sound of his hand moving over his shaft filling the room. His face was flushed, and he squirmed on the bed, hopelessly turned on by the intoxicating aroma of your pussy that still lingered on the thin lace.

"Mmm, sister please…" he moaned, high-pitched and needy. In his mind, he imagined burying his face between your legs, lapping at your dripping slit as he breathed in your scent directly from the source. He fantasized about plunging his tongue deep inside you, tasting your essence as he fucked his face against your cunt.

"Ahhhn, your pussy tastes so fucking good," Lucerys panted, stroking himself faster as he rubbed your thongs against his blushing face. Drool dripped from the corners of the thong and down his chin as he lost himself in his lustful daze.

As you stood outside his door you considered knocking as you had for Joffrey, but Luke had been getting on your nerves lately, so you decided not to grant him that courtesy. Instead, you swung the door open swiftly. "Laundry, now."

Lucerys froze like a deer in the headlights, his green eyes wide with shock and fear as you barged in. He yanked his hand off, his rigid cock throbbing and leaking pre-cum, the wet spot on his boxers clearly visible. Throwing the thong, he had been sniffing, behind him.

"Wh-what the fuck?!" Lucerys stammered, his face turning beet red. He quickly tried to stuff his dick back into his pants, wincing at the sensitivity. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as humiliation washed over him. He had never been caught doing something so depraved before.

"I-I can explain…" he whimpered pathetically, his voice cracking with emotion. He looked at you pleadingly, silently begging for forgiveness and understanding. At that moment, he resembled a scolded child more than a young man.

His gaze darted to the thong on the bed behind him, hoping you hadn't seen it. Lucerys swallowed hard, his mouth dry with anxiety. "It's not what you think…" he tried to protest weakly, even though it was exactly what you had caught him doing.

You slammed the laundry basket down on the floor with a thud, your heart pounding in shock and anger as you glared at him. Folding your arms across your chest, you looked at him with an expression of utter disbelief, your eyes narrowing.

"You can explain?" you repeated incredulously, your voice dripping with sarcasm and outrage. "So let me guess, you were just… admiring the lace, Luke? Checking if any holes needed fixing?" Your tone turned mocking and bitter.

You took a step closer to him, your full hips swaying with each movement, drawing his gaze to your body. "Or maybe… you were just sniffing how well your dear stepsister smells, huh? Thinking if it would actually cover my ass, hmm?" Your voice rose.

"No, I… I mean, yes…" Lucerys stammered, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. He couldn't meet your gaze, his eyes darting nervously around the room. "I'm sorry, okay? I don't know what came over me. I just… I couldn't help myself." He looked down at the floor, shamefaced and remorseful.

"I didn't mean to…," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was stupid and wrong of me. I crossed a line, and I'm truly sorry." He swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly as he clenched them into fists at his sides. "Please, don't tell anyone about this. I'll do anything to make it up to you, I swear."

Despite his shame and embarrassment, Lucerys couldn't help but let his gaze linger on your swaying hips and curves. The way your anger made your breasts heave and your eyes flash was incredibly arousing. He quickly looked away again, hating himself for his inappropriate thoughts and reactions at a time like this.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry," he whimpered, his voice wavering with genuine remorse. "I don't know what to say. I just… I swear it won't happen again." He looked up at you pleadingly, his eyes filled with desperation and a hidden, lingering lust that he couldn't quite suppress. "Please, can we just forget this happened?" he asked softly.

You leaned in closer as you stared at Lucerys's flushed, pitiful expression. With a smirk, you shook your head slowly.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? Wow… just wow," you said quietly, your tongue flicking against your cheek as you eyed him with utter contempt.

"Let me guess, you've never even had your clumsy, inexperienced hands anywhere near a real woman's pussy. Is that why you need to resort to sniffing my dirty panties like some sad, pathetic virgin? Huh?" you mocked, your brow arching in disbelief.

You sat next to him on the bed. Your voice lowered to a biting whisper as you hissed,

"And thinking about shoving my cunt in your face is supposed to do what, exactly? I mean, do you even know how to eat a pussy right?" you challenged.

He swallowed hard, his eyes flickering down to your lips as you whispered biting words in his ear. He could feel the heat of your breath on his skin, making him shudder. Lucerys's cock strained against his pants, desperate for stimulation, even as his mind reeled from your mocking.

Your eyes narrowed as you glared down at his shaking, nervous form. "Just look at you, trembling and blushing like an overgrown toddler…" you declared, your voice rising with each word. Smirking as you knew you were finally getting payback for all those times he had messed with you.

He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to reach out and touch you.

Your mocking words stung, and he felt his face burn with shame and embarrassment. He knew you were right, that he had acted like a pathetic, inexperienced virgin. And yet, despite the humiliation, he couldn't deny the way his cock throbbed at your words.

"I… I didn't mean to take them," he stammered, his voice shaking with nerves and a confusing mix of embarrassment and lingering lust.

"And I'm sure I could learn," he blurted out, his voice barely above a whisper as he gazed at you with desperation and hidden desire.

Lucerys's hands clenched tighter in his lap. He was terrified of your reaction, but he couldn't deny the overwhelming urge to kiss you, to worship your body, to make you feel good in any way he could.

He looked up at you from beneath long lashes, his green eyes filled with a swirling mix of fear, shame, and barely restrained lust. "Please… Tell me what you need me to do," he begged softly, his voice low and desperate.

You leaned in closer, your hand coming up to gently cup Lucerys's flushed cheek. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him looking so meek and submissive, a far cry from the brat he usually was.

"You know you're rather adorable when you're being this good," you teased softly, your thumb brushing lightly over his burning skin. "Such a pretty thing, so eager to learn…" you murmured, almost admiringly.

But then you sighed, shaking your head slightly as if disappointed by his past misdeeds. "Too bad you couldn't have been this well-behaved from the start. Think of all the fun we could've had sooner." Your tone turned playful at the end, a hint of flirtation slipping through.

You had always thought that he and Jacaerys were handsome, thinking that if they weren't your stepbrothers you would have probably made a move on one of them. Too bad they got on your nerves all the time.

You let your gaze travel slowly over his trembling form, taking in the way his chest heaved with shallow breaths, the way his eyes clung to yours with desperate hope and barely restrained hunger.

"But look at you now," you purred, leaning in until your lips were a mere breath from his ear. "Aren't you lucky, getting a chance to learn from your big sister?" you whispered teasingly, your breath tickling his sensitive skin. "I have soooo many lessons to teach you, baby boy…" you trailed off, letting the promise linger between you, heavy with wicked intent.

Lucerys shuddered as your hand cupped his cheek, his skin burning at your gentle touch. He leaned into your palm instinctively, craving more of your touch despite the humiliation that still raced through him.

His heart skipped a beat at your teasing words, a small, shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knew he had been a brat, always trying to get under your skin and rile you up. But hearing you call him adorable and well-behaved made a warmth bloom in his chest that had nothing to do with shame.

"Does… does that mean I have a chance to be good for you?" he breathed, hardly daring to hope. His eyes clung to yours, desperate for any scraps of affection or approval.

Lucerys's cock strained against his boxers, leaking pre-cum and creating a growing wet spot. The thought of you teaching him, guiding him and moulding him into your ideal lover made him throb with need.

"Please…" he breathed out, his voice barely audible. "Please, I'll… I’ll be your good boy… I promise." His words were punctuated by another desperate shudder, his body aching.

You leaned in close, letting your fingertips trail teasingly through Lucerys's hair as you tilted his chin to meet your stern gaze. "Oh, you're a good boy now, hmm? That's rich, coming from a brat who's done nothing but make my life a living nightmare these past months," you scolded, your voice laced with mock exasperation.

He shivered under your touch, feeling a confusing mix of shame and arousal at your mocking words.

"Cleaning up after your messes, hunting down my stolen things, finding my expensive hair products used up… do you have any idea what a pain in the ass you and Jace have been?" you huffed, your chest heaving slightly as you voiced your grievances.

Despite your words, a playful smirk tugged at your lips. "But I suppose even a dumb puppy can learn new tricks. And much as it pains me to say it… you do seem genuinely sorry." You reached under your skirt, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your skimpy white panties.

"Since you've got such a hard-on for my panties, here," you purred, handing him the dainty white cotton with its cute pink bow and noticeable damp patch. "Fresh from this morning. Why don't you show me what you usually do with them, hmm?" You cocked an eyebrow, a wicked glint in your eyes as you settled yourself back down beside him.

Lucerys snatched the offered panties from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. The still-warm fabric and the damp patch on them made his cock throb painfully in his pants. He could smell your scent, the lingering aroma of your arousal, and he knew he'd never be able to get enough.

"Th-thank you," he stammered, clutching the panties like a treasure. His cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red as he looked up at you shyly, wondering if he should do this if he dared to do this.

As he brought them to his nose, inhaling your intimate scent, he whimpered softly. "Fuck…" he breathed out, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. He rubbed the fabric against his cheek, savouring the feeling and smell of your panties.

"I… I usually just sniff them," he confesses, his voice low and shaky with desire. "Over and over, until the scent fades. It's not enough… but it's the only way I can get close to you like this." He gazed at you from beneath thick lashes, his green eyes dark and hungry.

You watched, eyes narrowed and lips curved in a smirk, as Lucerys's nose wrinkled and breathing quickened while inhaling your scent from the damp crotch of your panties. "Mmm, sniffing them is cute and all," you murmured, tone laced with mocking amusement, "but you've got to do better than that if you want to prove you're sorry."

Leaning in closer, you cupped Lucerys's flushed cheek, fingers curling under his chin to tilt his gaze up to meet yours, making him look at you with wide nervous eyes. Your thumb brushed over the quivering curve of his bottom lip and he felt his resolve crumble "Lick them," you commanded firmly, voice low and authoritative. "Show me exactly how you'd use that tongue of yours to worship your big sister's pussy, hmm? Since it's obvious how badly you want to taste me." You patted his cheek a few times.

"Don't hold back, baby boy. Pretend my panties are the real thing…" You arched an eyebrow, a wicked gleam in your eye as you awaited his response.

With shaking hands, he brought the crotch of your panties to his mouth, taking a deep breath of your scent one last time before parting his lips. He extended his tongue, the tip of it brushing against the damp fabric.

Lucerys let out a low moan as the taste of your arousal exploded on his tongue, his eyes fluttering shut as he savoured it. He could feel the wetness seeping through the thin cotton, coating his tongue with your essence.

He began to lick more insistently, his tongue dragging over the fabric in long, slow strokes. He imagined this was your pussy, your dripping wet folds parting under his ministrations. He licked harder, more urgently, his tongue delving into the damp patch, trying to lap up every last drop of your juices.

Soft whimpers and needy whines spilt from Lucerys's lips as he lost himself in the act, his hips bucking slightly as he pleasured your panties with his mouth. The taste of your pussy was intoxicating, and he wanted nothing more than to bury his face between your thighs and feast on your cunt until you were screaming in ecstasy.

Lucerys's cheeks burned with shame and humiliation, but he couldn't stop. He needed to prove to you that he would do anything you asked, that he would be your good boy.

You snatched the panties from Lucerys's hand, giving his flush cheek a light smack to snap him out of his lust-filled daze. "Eyes up here, perv," you teased, rolling your eyes. "If you really want to apologize, you're gonna have to do better than just sniffing and drooling on my underwear like a dog in heat."

Sighing dramatically, you crawled over to the other side of the bed and leaned back against the wooden headboard. Spreading your legs, you let them fall open slowly, revealing a glimpse of your glistening, bare pussy. The scent of your arousal perfumed the air between you.

"Isn't this a first for you, little brother?" you purred mockingly, arching an eyebrow. "I bet you've seen plenty of fake tits and ass in those porn videos you jerk off to, but a real, live cunt? That's a whole different story."

You could see the way Lucerys' eyes widened as he took in the sight, his pupils dilating with hunger and desire. A smirk played at the corners of your lips as you watched him drink in every detail of your most intimate place.

"Go ahead, get a good look," you encouraged, spreading your legs wider. The glisten of my wetness was unmistakable, and you could feel a trickle of arousal dripping down the curve of your ass.

Lucerys swallowed hard, his mouth going dry at the sight of your glistening, naked pussy mere inches from him. He had never seen anything so beautiful, so perfect. The way your lips shone with your arousal made his mouth water and his cock throb almost painfully.

"I… I've never seen one off-screen," he breathed, his voice shaking with a mix of nerves and unbridled desire. He couldn't take his eyes off your cunt, watching as another trickle of wetness slid down your folds.

Despite his inexperience, Lucerys knew exactly what his body craved. Slowly, hesitantly, he brought a hand up to your knee, his fingers trembling as they brushed against your soft skin. He looked up at you questioningly, seeking permission as he began to inch his hand upwards.

"Can I… can I touch you?" he asked softly, his eyes flickering from your face to your pussy and back again. The tent in his pants was only growing more pronounced, the outline of his hard cock straining against the fabric.

Lucerys's heart raced as you considered his request, hoping desperately, that you would allow him this small mercy. He was terrified of fucking this up, of ruining whatever chance he had with you. But more than anything, he wanted to touch you, to feel the silky heat of your skin, the slickness of your arousal coating his fingers…

At Lucerys's hesitation, you smiled condescendingly. "Oh, how rude of you," you teased, your voice dripping with mock hurt. "Don't I even get a kiss before you go exploring?"

Leaning in closer, you caught his chin gently but firmly between your fingers, tilting his face up towards yours.

"Come on, baby brother," you purred, your breath hot against his lips. "Give me a kiss and maybe I'll let you have a little taste…"

You brushed your lips against his in a feather-light caress, your eyes sparkling with barely concealed desire.

Your thumb traced the curve of his bottom lip, coaxing it to part. "That's it, sweetheart. Be a good boy for me," you encouraged softly, your voice low and laden with promise. "Kiss me like you mean it."

Lucerys shuddered, his breath catching in his throat as your thumb traced his bottom lip. His eyes fluttered shut, and he parted his lips, inviting you to deepen the kiss. He had dreamed of this moment for so long, and now that it was finally happening, he was determined to make the most of it.

Pulse racing, Lucerys pressed his lips more firmly against yours, pouring all of his pent-up desire and longing into the kiss. His hands came up to tangle in your hair, holding you close as his tongue shyly brushed against yours.

He moaned softly into the kiss, the taste of your mouth making his head spin with arousal. Your lips moved skillfully against his own, guiding him and coaxing him to be a good, obedient boy.

Lucerys's cock throbbed almost painfully as he lost himself in the kiss, one hand sliding down to grip your hip tightly. His body pressed against your own, the hard length of his erection nestling against your thigh as he tried to get as close to you as possible.

He gasped into the kiss as he felt himself losing control, his hips starting to rock instinctively against your thigh. You abruptly ended the kiss, gripping his hair and yanking his head back.

"Did I say you could hump my leg like a doggy?" you asked, eyes flashing dangerously. Lucerys flushed an even deeper shade of red, looking mortified.

"No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" he stammered, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

Your voice turned stern. "I thought you wanted to worship me properly, not just rut against me like an untrained puppy?" you asked pointedly. "Clearly, you need a reminder of your place."

"On your knees, Lucerys," you ordered, your tone leaving no room for argument. "The floor, now. Show your big sister the respect she deserves."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you spread your legs wide, revealing your needy cunt.

Lucerys knew better than to disobey a direct order from you. He quickly slid off the bed and lowered himself to his knees on the floor before you, his eyes never leaving your exposed sex. He swallowed hard, his mouth going dry at the sight of your wet, glistening folds.

"Like this?" he asked softly, looking up at you for confirmation. His hands rest lightly on your thighs, just above your knees. He was acutely aware of the bulge in his pants, his hard cock straining against the confines of his pants.

"I… I want to please you," Lucerys declared solemnly, his eyes filled with a mix of reverence and hunger. "Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do my very best to be a good boy for you."

He gazed at your dripping sex, feeling his head spin. The scent of your arousal was intoxicating, and he couldn't wait to taste your essence directly from the source.

You smiled indulgently at your naive younger brother, your fingers playing with his messy hair as you gazed down at him with a mix of affection and amusement. "Aww, you really are just the most adorable thing when you're being this good," you laughed softly.

"I'm not going to stay mad at you, sweetheart. Not when you look at me like that." Your voice was sweet but with an underlying current of domination.

You gave him his first instruction. "Now, I want you to start by kissing up my thighs. Slowly, sweetheart. Take your time and worship every inch of your big sister's legs until you reach the top."

You leaned back on your hands, making yourself more comfortable as you watched Lucerys through lidded eyes. Your perky breasts rose and fell with each breath, drawing attention to your pretty curves.

Lucerys shuddered in anticipation as your fingers played with his hair, a soft moan escaping his lips at your touch. He gazed up at you with wide, adoring eyes, feeling his heart swell with affection and desire.

"Thank you," he breathed out, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He knew he still had a lot to make up for, but at least he had a chance now.

Lucerys hesitated for a moment before leaning forward and pressing a soft, reverent kiss to the inside of your left thigh. He started at the knee, showering your smooth skin with tender kisses as he slowly worked his way up.

He took his time, just as you had instructed, worshipping every inch of your legs with a mix of innocence and growing hunger. His lips trailed higher and higher, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake.

Lucerys's hands slid up your thighs as he kissed them, gripping and caressing gently. He could feel the heat of your skin, the way it seemed to burn hotter the closer he got to your aching sex.

Soft whimpers and needy little moans spilt from his lips as he lost himself in the task of pleasing you, his heart racing and cock throbbing with anticipation. He lived for this moment, for the chance to worship his big sister's body as she deserved.

Biting your plump bottom lip, you couldn't help but let out a shuddery moan as Lucerys's soft lips trailed along your inner thighs. Your core clenched around nothing, aching and empty as your arousal drooled freely from your dripping cunt. "Mmmh, that feels good," you breathed out, eyelids fluttering shut as jolts of pleasure raced through you.

You gazed down at your adorable stepbrother through hooded eyes, watching as he worshipped your soft skin with clumsy yet devoted kisses. He was just too goddamn cute, his innocence and eagerness to please you making your heart race.

Lucerys continued his reverent kisses, his lips now inches from your glistening folds. Your arousal coated your pussy lips, making them glisten invitingly. The scent of your desire filled the air between you, making Lucerys dizzy with lust.

He hesitated for a moment, looking up at you questioningly. "B-big sister?" he stammered softly, his voice shaky with nerves and anticipation. "Can… can I taste you now? Please?"

Lucerys's tongue darted out to lick his lips, already tingling with the desire to taste your essence. His green eyes gazed at you pleadingly, silently begging for permission to bury his face between your thighs and feast on your dripping cunt.

Soft, almost inaudible whimpers escaped from between his trembling lips as he waited for your response. The bulge in his boxers was more prominent than ever, the outline of his hard cock straining against the fabric. It ached and throbbed, begging to be freed and buried deep inside you.

"Mmm, go on then baby boy…" you purred, hiking your skirt up around your waist and spreading your thighs wider in a clear invitation, the folds of your aching, empty cunt right in front of his face. "Don't be shy now… I want to feel that tongue of yours exploring every inch of my little hole. Bury your face in your sister's cunt and drink down every drop of my juices like a good boy."

Lucerys licked his lips hungrily at your words, feeling a surge of desperate arousal at your filthy words. He looked up at you with hooded, lust-filled eyes before leaning in, his face hovering inches from your dripping sex.

With a shameless moan, Lucerys closed the distance and dragged the flat of his tongue along your glistening slit, tasting your essence for the first time. The flavour of your arousal exploded on his tastebuds, and he couldn't get enough.

He moaned wantonly into your pussy, gripping your thighs tighter as he began to eat you out with clumsy but enthusiastic licks. His tongue pushed between your folds, lapping up your juices and savouring your honeyed taste.

Lucerys's tongue swirled around your clit, flicking the sensitive bud sharply as he felt you shudder against his mouth. He licked and sucked greedily at your dripping hole, determined to drink down every drop of your nectar.

"Mmm… you taste so fucking good," he mumbled against your cunt, his voice muffled. The vibrations of his words sent delicious jolts of pleasure racing through your body.

You felt a thrill of hunger as she watched Lucerys stumble through his first clumsy attempts to please you. His inexperienced tongue made messy swipes against your dripping folds, occasionally grazing a sensitive spot that had you gasping.

"Mmm, baby boy…" you gasped, tangling your fingers in his hair and subtly rolling your hips against his mouth. "Use more pressure, sweetheart. I need you to work harder than that…"

Soft pants escaped your lips as Lucerys finally honed in on your throbbing clit, flicking and circling the sensitive bud. Sparks of pleasure shot up your spine with each touch of his tongue, building the heat low in your belly.

"Ah! Just like that… oh fuck!" you cried out, feeling a surge of pleasure. Growing impatient with his clumsy attempts, you grabbed both sides of his head with a desperate moan. You started grinding your dripping cunt in rough circles against his eager but inexperienced mouth, chasing the pleasure you craved.

"There's a good boy," you praised breathlessly as you used his face for your satisfaction. "Worship your big sister's pussy just like this, sweetheart. Show me how badly you want to make me cum all over this cute face of yours."

Lucerys whimpered desperately against your cunt, gripping your thighs tighter as he struggled to keep up with your frenzied grinding. Your fingers tightened in his hair, yanking roughly as you rutted against his face, using his mouth for your pleasure.

He could feel your juices dripping down his chin and onto his neck, as he worshipped your pussy with clumsy but eager licks and sucks. Lucerys's cock throbbed almost painfully in his pants, leaking pre-cum at the feeling of your wet heat against his lips.

"Mmph, I'm trying… I'm trying so hard to please you," he gasped out between sloppy licks, his words vibrating against your sensitive flesh. He could feel your pleasure building, your moans and cries spurring him on to suckle your clit harder and fuck your entrance with his tongue.

Lucerys gazed up at you with hazy, lust-filled eyes, silently begging for your release. He wanted to feel your juices flood his mouth, to drink down every drop as he pushed you over the edge. His hips jerked instinctively, seeking some form of relief from the aching hardness between his legs.

Nails digging into Lucerys's scalp, you writhed against his hungry mouth, painting his lips and chin with your slick arousal. "Yes, fuck, just like that!" you cried out, undulating your hips to grind your aching clit against the boy's nose. "Fuck me with your tongue~…"

A shock of raw pleasure ignited through your core as his tongue plundered your entrance, plunging in and out in a desperate rhythm. "Unngh, shit…" you whimpered, back arching as your thighs clenched around his head.

You could feel your climax building fast, your inner walls beginning to flutter and tighten around the slick, wriggling muscle. "Don't stop, please don't fucking stop…" you panted, gripping fists full of hair as you rode his face hard, chasing your rapidly approaching orgasm.

Lucerys doubled his efforts, tongue plunging in and out of your clenching hole with desperate abandon. He felt your walls starting to flutter and tighten around his invading muscle, your juices gushing out to coat his chin and drip down onto his neck. The taste of your arousal was intoxicating, and he couldn't get enough.

"Mmm, yes! Fuck, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" you cried out, your body tensing and shaking as your orgasm rapidly approached. Lucerys just moaned wantonly in response, sucking your clit harder and fucking your cunt with deep strokes of his tongue, determined to push you over the edge.

With a sharp cry of your stepbrother's name, your body went rigid, your back arching as pure ecstasy exploded through every nerve ending. Your pussy clenched and spasmed wildly around Lucerys's tongue, gushing out a flood of your honey as your climax hit you like a tidal wave.

Lucerys made no move to pull away, greedily drinking down every drop of your release. He held your bucking hips tightly as he licked and suckled your quivering sex, riding out your intense orgasm with you and prolonging your pleasure for as long as possible.

With a sharp gasp, you grabbed Lucerys's head and pulled his face in tight as you rutted yourself against him, muffling his cries of pleasure with your dripping sex. "Oh… ohhh fuck, yes," you panted out, your thighs clamping down around his ears as you rode the intense waves of your climax.

Your gummy walls spasmed and clenched rhythmically around his busy tongue, creaming hard into your younger brother's eager mouth. You didn't care if he could breathe or not, too lost in the throes of your release to think of anything but chasing every last spark of pleasure.

"Mmmfff… ahhh… that's it…" you moaned breathlessly, slowly grinding your hips to draw out the fading aftershocks. Little jolts of electricity still zapped through your nerves.

Finally spent, you released your grip on Lucerys's hair and leaned back slightly, letting him catch a breath. Your chest heaved as you tried to regulate your breathing, a satisfied smirk playing on your swollen, slick lips.

Lucerys gasped desperately for air as you finally released your grip on his hair and allowed him to pull back slightly. He gulped down the mouthfuls of your juices he had collected, the taste of your release on his tongue. His face was glazed with your slick arousal, chin to forehead, and a string of your juices connected his bottom lip to your thigh. He licked his lips with a dazed, lust-drunk expression.

"I… I did well?" he asked softly, hope and a touch of disbelief colouring his tone. He couldn't believe he had made you cum. The feeling of your hot, slick juices coating his face was still overwhelming to the boy.

Despite the hard, aching bulge still straining against his pants, there was a look of pure adoration and devotion on Lucerys's face as he gazed up at you. He knew he would do anything to feel your pleasure again, to worship your body and have you use him for your satisfaction.

"I hope… hope you'll let me do that again," he stammered shyly, his cheeks flushed with a mix of satisfaction and lingering arousal. "Anytime you want, sister. Anytime."

"Oh baby, you were amazing," you cooed softly, gently helping Lucerys up and guiding him to lie down next to you on the bed. You brushed his messy hair back from his flushed face and gazed at him adoringly. As he lay back on the bed next to you, he couldn't take his eyes off your beautiful face, his heart racing at the intimate murmurs and praise.

His heart swelled with pride and affection at your words. He felt himself melting under the adoring gaze and tender touch, knowing he would do anything to make you happy and satisfied.

"Such a good, obedient boy," you praised him warmly, your fingers tenderly wiping the evidence of his hard work from his chin and cheeks. You brought your coated fingers to your mouth and made a show of licking them clean. But his cheeks and chin were still messy with your creamy release, going to lick up his face clean like a kitten.

Lucerys shuddered and bit his lip as he watched you lick your fingers clean, feeling another surge of arousal at the erotic sight. His cock throbbed almost painfully in his pants, the fabric of his underwear damp with pre-cum.

"Th-thank you," he breathed out, his voice rough with desire. He couldn't believe he had the power to make you feel that good, to bring you to such an intense, toe-curling climax.

Lucerys tilted his head up to give you better access as you began to clean the sticky essence from his face with your tongue. He let out a shaky moan when you licked along his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut at the intimate, sensual act.

"I love the taste of your cum," he admitted hoarsely, reaching up to cup your face in his trembling hands.

The damp patch in his underwear had grown, his cock leaking steadily as he imagined fucking you senseless daily, pumping load after load of his hot seed deep inside your greedy cunt.

"Can I… can I kiss you again?" he asked shyly, his green eyes filled with longing as they met yours. "I want to taste your pretty lips…"

"Mmm, of course you can," you giggled, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "You've been so good for your big sister. You deserve a reward~"

You leaned down, capturing his mouth in a messy, passionate kiss. Your lips moved sloppily against each other, mixing the lingering taste of your arousal with his saliva. Occasionally, you would nip at his bottom lip, tugging on it gently before soothing the sting with your tongue.

You could feel his whimpers vibrating against your lips, spurring you on as you deepened the kiss. Your tongue pushed past his lips, swirling around his own and greedily taking in the combined flavours of your lust.

Lucerys let out a choked moan into the messy kiss, his hands coming up to grip your waist tightly. He kissed you back with clumsy passion, his tongue tangling shyly with yours as he tried to learn the rhythm. The taste of your arousal mingling with his saliva made his head spin with lust.

Pulling back, you gazed down at him with lidded eyes, taking in the sight of his flushed face and kiss-swollen lips glistening with your essence. "Made me feel so good," you praised huskily, reaching down to squeeze the rock-hard bulge still straining against his pants. "I think it's time for you to feel the touch of a girl's hand, sweetheart. Are you ready for that?"

The feeling of your fingers squeezing his aching bulge had Lucerys bucking his hips up desperately, seeking more of that sweet friction. When you finally pulled away, he had to take a moment to steady his breathing, his chest heaving as he gazed up at you with hooded, lust-filled eyes.

"I… yes," he managed to stammer out, his voice pitchy and strained with arousal. "I'm ready for anything you want to give me… please…"

Lucerys's cock throbbed and leaked against the confines of his underwear as if in agreement. He couldn't remember a time when he had ever been this hard, his balls aching with the desperate need for release.

Rolling his hips upwards in a needy motion, he looked at you with guileless, pleading eyes.

Biting your lip, you watched with amusement as your little stepbrother writhed beneath you, utterly consumed by his teenage lust. You couldn't resist teasing him a bit. "Mmm, it looks like someone's excited," you giggled, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his white Calvin's. "I'm gonna take a peek, okay?"

Without waiting for his response, you snapped the elastic band against his sensitive skin. Lucerys let out a choked moan, hips jerking upwards with the sudden stimulation. "Ohhh, sensitive!"

Ignoring his needy sounds, you slowly peeled down his boxers inch by excruciating inch until his painfully hard cock sprang free. You licked your lips at the sight, taking in every detail.

"What do we have here… impressive, Luke." you purred, wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft and giving it a slow, teasing stroke. At your touch, a bead of pre-cum drooled out of the swollen, flushed head. "Mmmm, so hard already… looks like baby bro is alllll grown up now."

He watched, eyes wide and hazy with lust, as you slowly stroked his throbbing length. His cock pulsed urgently against your palm, the skin hot and silky soft, rock hard beneath.

"I… I can't help it," he whimpered, cheeks burning with humiliation and arousal at the praise.

His hips jerked as you stroked him, his member twitching and leaking steadily. The swollen head was a deep, angry red, weeping with the intensity of his need.

"Please, I need…" Lucerys began desperately, before trailing off, unable to voice his pleas. He was too shy, too aroused, too overwhelmed by the new sensations coursing through his young body.

His hands gripped the sheets beneath him, knuckles white as he fought the urge to grab your wrist and demand that you stroke him harder, faster. He wanted to feel your touch all over his aching cock, wanted you to make him cum until he sobbed.

You tilted your head with a playful pout, giving Lucerys a look of mock disappointment. "I'll touch you with just my hand today… I don't know if you could handle my mouth yet," you teased, smirking at his inexperienced reactions.

You had to admit, you were a bit surprised the handsome 19-year-old hadn't lost his virginity already. At over 180cm tall and with his boyish charm, you would've thought plenty of girls would be throwing themselves at him. Then again, the poor thing was so shy and quiet, especially when he wasn't with his beloved older brother Jacaerys. He probably had no idea how desirable he was.

You shook your head and chuckled softly as you wrapped your fingers more firmly around his throbbing cock, giving him a few slow pumps. "But don't worry, sweetheart," you purred, voice low and conspiratorial. "I'll make sure to take gooood care of you…" You flashed him a wicked grin, eager to give your adorable stepbrother his very first handjob.

Lucerys's breath hitched, and his spine arched as your fingers tightened around his shaft, giving him the firm stroke he desperately needed. His toes curled and his thighs clenched, muscles flexing as pleasure sparked through his nerves.

"I… I don't… ah!" he gasped out, eyes wide and cheeks burning at your teasing words. He knew he should protest, should tell you that of course he could handle your mouth, but the words died on his tongue as you pumped his throbbing cock.

Your touch felt so good, so much better than his own clumsy fumbles. He could feel every ridge and vein of his shaft, every twitch and throb as you worked him closer to his peak.

"Please…" Lucerys whimpered, hips rolling up to meet your strokes. He didn't even know what he was begging for anymore, too lost in the new sensations to think clearly. All he knew was that he needed more, needed you to keep touching him until he exploded.

Your wicked grin sent a bolt of lust straight to his aching balls, making them draw up tight against his body. He could feel the pressure building inside him, his orgasm approaching swiftly, as you worked his cock with practised efficiency.

"I'm… I'm not…" he gasped, feeling the telltale tightness in his gut as his climax fast approached. "I'm gonna… gonna…"

You snatched your hand away abruptly, brow arched in disbelief. "Already?" you teased, smirking. "And here I thought I'd have more time to play with this cute cock of yours." You let your gaze drift pointedly over his straining erection, noting how it throbbed urgently in the cool air, the swollen head an angry, desperate shade of red. "Guess you're just too pent up, hmmm? Can't blame my horny stepbrother for being eager though."

Lucerys whimpered desperately as you Suddenly pulled your hand away, leaving his aching cock throbbing and leaking in the cool air. He looked up at you with hazy, pleading eyes, face flushed with embarrassment and unfulfilled lust.

"S-sorry," he stammered, biting his lip as he tried to hold back his impending orgasm through sheer force of will. "I just… I've never… aahh…"

Lucerys squirmed on the bed, the sheets twisting beneath his hips as he fought the urge to grab his own cock and finish himself off. He was so close, teetering right on the edge of his very first climax at the hands of another.

"Please…" he begged softly, voice cracking with desperation. "I need… I need you to touch me again. I can't… I can't hold back much longer…" He gazed at you with wide, vulnerable eyes.

You gaze at Lucerys with a mix of amusement and tenderness, your heart fluttering at his helpless, desperate pleas. Unable to resist his boyish charm and the way his body responded so eagerly to your touch, you lean in close.

"Oh, you poor, pent-up boy," you coo softly, your breath warm against his ear. You let out a sympathetic little sigh. "Alright then, you've more than earned this."

Sitting up, you spat lightly onto his throbbing, flushed cock, watching with a smirk as the saliva trickles down his shaft, glistening obscenely. Making Lucerys let out a choked moan, your spit providing a slick new source of friction as your hand began to pump his cock in earnest.

You wrapped your fingers around him, relishing the feeling of his soft skin, hot and pulsing with need.

Your hands started to move, twisting and pumping his thick length in a steady, purposeful rhythm. You worked him with focused intensity, your grip alternating between firm and teasing as you stroked him closer to his release.

"That's it, sweetheart," you encourage him in a low sultry murmur. "Let yourself go. I want to watch you cum for me…"

"Ohhh god…" he gasped, fingers scrabbling at the sheets as his hips rocked upwards to meet your strokes.

He could feel his release fast approaching as you touched him with purposeful intensity. His stomach clenched, and his balls tightened, the pressure building to an unbearable peak.

"Haahh, yes… yes…" he panted out, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure consumed him. Your words urged him on, spurring him towards his inevitable climax.

Lucerys's breathing grew ragged, chest heaving as he teetered on the razor's edge. His cock throbbed almost violently in your grip.

He couldn't hold back any longer. With a strangled cry of your name, Lucerys came undone. His cock jerked and spasmed as it erupted, painting thick ropes of hot cum all over your pumping fist.

"NNAAHH! Aahhh…" he wailed as spurt after spurt of his release shot out, his young body shaking and convulsing with the force of it. It was his very first time experiencing such intense pleasure, and it overwhelmed his senses completely.

Thick globs of pearly white seed dripped onto his stomach and chest, and some landed on your fingers. Lucerys trembled and moaned throughout the aftershocks, eyes rolling back and toes curling as he rode out the waves of his climax.

As Lucerys came hard, his length jerked and spasmed in your grip, painting your hand and his shirt with thick ropes of hot, sticky seed. The obscene sounds of his release filled the room as you continued pumping his throbbing cock, working him through the intense waves of pleasure that wracked his young body.

"Oh wow, so much cum for such a pretty boy," you purred, watching in amusement as Lucerys's face contorted in pleasure, his eyes rolling back and toes curling. "You really needed that, didn't you sweetie?"

You couldn't help but feel a rush of pride knowing you had brought your adorable stepbrother to such a mind-blowing climax. His spent member gave a weak twitch as the last drops of cum dripped out, and you had to chuckle at how utterly depraved he looked - shirt splattered with his own release, hair mussed, and cheeks glowing a deep shade of red.

Lucerys could only whimper and nod weakly, still dazed and trembling in the afterglow. "Y-yes, thank you…" he managed to stammer out, gazing up at you with hazy, adoring eyes. You couldn't wait to corrupt him further and make this a regular occurrence between you…

Just as Lucerys was coming down from his high, the bedroom door suddenly burst open. Jacaerys stood there, his handsome face flushed and eyes dark with poorly concealed lust as he took in the perverse scene before him - his younger brother's spent cock glistening with cum, your hand coated in the same, and the general air of sexual tension permeating the room.

"Well, well, well..." Jacaerys drawled, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned against the doorframe casually. "Looks like someone's having all the fun without me. Thought we were going to share, little brother?"

He stalked closer to the bed, eyes roving hungrily over your curves and lingering on where your fingers were still wrapped around Lucerys's sensitive cock. "It's not fair, leaving your big brother out of the action," he complained, petulance clear in his tone. "I've been wanting a taste of her for ages now..."

Reaching the edge of the bed, he leaned down, gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his heated gaze. "It's my turn next, little sis," he murmured, voice low and full of dark promise. "So you'd better not tire yourself out too much on dear Lucerys here." He said darkly before releasing you and turning to his flushed younger brother with a grin. "Better rest up, Luke. Because I certainly can't wait much longer to bury my cock in our step-sister's tight little holes..."

612 notes · View notes

bluem1lls · 6 months ago

Note

(srry for anon😭) id love to see a se-mi smut fic with the brothers best friend trope… obviously only if ur comfy w it!!! im literally taking se-mi crumbs rn but i adore ur fics !

✧₊⁺ i can see you (makes me want you even more)

se-mi x fem!reader

✦ synopsis: don't ever fall for your brother's best friend. but when she kisses you like that, when she fucks you like that, how could you not?

content: minors DNI, brother's best friend! se-mi x younger sister reader, smut, fingering/oral (r!receiving), spanking, daddy kink, squirt, choking, angst, se-mi is 24 here x reader is 22, fluff at the end!

authors note: hiii omg im so sorry for the weekend, i was exhausted!! but i made this, gathering these three requests together so i hope you love it!

"no"

"yes- it's not even a question! she's coming!"

"you lied to me! you said she wasn't!"

"you wouldn't have come if i told you!"

i sighed as i smacked him. he quickly hit me back.

"if she bothers me, i'll punch her. i'm not kidding."

"fine, whatever" my brother, nam-gyu, rolled his eyes.

he's been insisting that i came to this trip for like a year, saying he missed me. i haven't seen the gang for a whole year. we all used to get along just fine, except se-mi and i.

she used to make fun of me for being nam-gyu's little sister. ever since they became friends (when i was 12 and they were 14), she's been a bitch to me. i argued more with her than with my own brother, but somehow, she always found a way to fix it at night.

when her and her girlfriend mocked me for my pjs at 16, making me cry, she waited till midnight to sneak into my room, laying in bed besides me as we watched my favorite tv show.

"i'm sorry. i really like these. don't ever take them off"

and when i was 18, she told the entire group i was the most annoying girl she knew. but once they all left, she set up a pillowfort downstairs along with my favorite snacks. we played videogames there all night.

"i'm sorry. it wasn't true. you're the coolest girl i know"

and when i turned 20, me and nam-gyu had a big fight. she took his side while i sobbed. but when everyone went to bed, she came to my room and hold me as i sobbed on her chest until i fell asleep on her.

"you're so stubborn.. but we-..b-but he loves you so much. he's trying to take care of you"

and with time, i started to fell in love with her. the feelings growing more and more each year.

she was my first love. my first not reciprocated love.

"hurry up, min-su said they're outside!"

"i'm coming" i yelled at him as i grabbed my suitcase, checking if i packed everything.

as we left the house and said goodbye to our parents, my brother carried my luggage to the trunk.

thanos switched from driver to the passenger seat to leave nam-gyu. se-mi was sitting in the backseat, looking by the window from the left side. min-su was in the middle and i was supposed to sit on the right side of the window seat.

i opened the car door and got in as the three stared at me up and down.

"look who's finally here" thanos turned around to smirk at me as he spoke. "holy shit you look so much older! the last time we saw you you were like 21, how old are you now?"

"you don't say that to a girl! and it's been only a year!" i smacked his head as he winced.

"we missed you! even se-mi missed you!" i hugged min-su as i rolled my eyes at his comment while se-mi snorted.

"how could i not miss the princess of the group?" she said in a low voice. our eyes met after one year as she scanned my face.

here we go again.

"hey. we will have a peaceful trip to the cabin. did the four of you heard me?" my brother said, getting in as he started the car.

"can we go get something to eat?" i whined.

"you just finished the entire bag of pretzels all by yourself, and you're still hungry?" min-su said, not even looking at me as the four of them were rotting on the couch, playing with the ps4 dad installed last summer.

"i swear i'll start crying, i'm starving! and i've also been wanting to play all afternoon but none of you-" i said as the doorbell interrupted my big speech. se-mi quickly got up and threw the controller to me as i lifted one brow.

"take it, got more important shit to do than to hear you whine" she said, running to open the door.

i could hear a feminine voice talking as se-mi chuckled and moved aside, letting her in.

"come in pretty, so, this is the entire gang and that's nam-gyu's annoying little sister" she said introducing us, as i stared offended.

the girl stood behind her. she had long black hair and soft eyes, she looked just like one of se-mi's perfect victims.

the guys said a quick 'hey', without even taking their eyes off the screen.

"but let's go upstairs, i'll show you my room" se-mi said, grabbing her hand while pulling her upstairs.

once they disappeared, i let out a furious scoff.

"seriously?"

"you know how she is; we don't even try anymore. she has more game than we do" thanos mumbled as he eliminated my brother from the game, celebrating on his face.

"don't start any-" nam-gyu said as i cut him.

"if i hear any moans, i swear to god-"

and of course, not even 20 minutes later, we could all hear the loud moans and screams coming out of se-mi's room.

i swear, fuck her.

i checked the time as i left my comfortable bed. i read the clock's display, 2:30 am.

i put on one of my brother's big shirts that i stole from him as i got downstairs to get a midnight snack and some water.

i turned on the kitchen lights to find se-mi, with a green shirt and some grey sweatpants leaned against the counter, hair on her face as she scrolled through her phone. she lifted her gaze, smirking when she found my face.

"apparently i can't even get some water without you being around" i mumbled, passing by her side and going straight to the fridge to grab the water bottle and a glass from the shelves as she chuckled.

"weird, because if i remember correctly, the last time we saw each other you were saying something entirely different."

i closed my eyes at the memories of last time in the cabin. a year ago, when she lifted me and took me upstairs to her room. her hands were in my hair while she kissed me. my lips red and swollen. her hands teasing my folds over-

i close the fridge as i straighten myself, looking at her.

"a mistake, remember?" i said, sarcastically smirking, quoting her words from last time.

"this-this was a mistake. if nam gyu finds out, we're both fucking dead. this never happened." she said, putting on her jeans and looking for her shirt.

i should've kept my mouth shut.

but the words slipped out as she kissed my neck, her fingers inside of me.

"i love you, se-mi"

i covered my naked body with a sheet, ashamed. "i'm in love with you" my stare lost in a blank point.

she stopped changing as she stared at me, her eyes wide.

"you don't. i'm just older than you and you think you're in love-"

"i know i am!" i shouted as she shushed me, getting close to me.

"you're not. and i definitely know i'm not. we know better. you like fucking around and i do too, that's all this was." she said, grabbing my face to meet hers. she scanned my watery eyes as she wiped the tears.

"we know better than to fall in love just because a night of good sex" she said

"and then i never saw you again after that. you suddenly were 'too busy hanging out' everytime i was in your house." she said. the memories hitting us both like a trainwreck.

"i didn't wanted to see your face again"

"i wanted to see yours" she said, slowly moving closer to me. her hands gripping my waist, holding me against the wall.

"why? to tell me once again how it was just one night of good sex and that's all?"

her eyes trailed all over my face, one of her hands left my waist to cup my face, her thumb gently caressing my cheek.

she sighed, pressing her forehead against mine.

"i'm so weak for you" she murmur, making me sigh.

"don't do this se-mi.." i closed my eyes as i felt my heart flutter.

as i open my mouth to speak again, a soft feminine voice interrumpted us from upstairs.

"se-mi? did you get the water? i'm thirsty"

of course. i should've seen it coming.

i scoffed as i pushed her off. she also seemed to regain consciousness as she quickly grabbed a glass of water and filled it up without saying a word. she stared at me with a hint of.. guilt? before making her way upstairs with the girl.

pretending to hate eachother was the healthiest thing we could've done.

i stopped partying every night once i hit 22, but sometimes, i missed it. mostly, my old version. the one who used to fuck around, who wasn't afraid, the life of the party and most importantly;

i miss the old me, who wasn't completely in love with se-mi.

so yeah, maybe i wasn't in my right mind when we started taking a few shots with the guys before the anual party they threw in the cabin everytime they did their summer trip.

and maybe i wasn't in my right mind when i called my ex fling to come to the party because well... what could go wrong?

i layed a few oufit options in my bed as i prepped the shower, feeling a bit tipsy as i choose the skirt and top that most went with my style.

i got out the shower, wrapping myself in a towel as i started applying my hair products. i felt the door open as se-mi walked in and closed it behind her.

"the guys want to know if you're done already because we want to start shower-" she stop mid-sentence, taking in my naked framed wrapped with just one towel.

her eyes lingered on me like a pervert, making me roll my eyes.

"yes, is that all?" i said, she roamed my body like she was trying to undress me.

she hummed while stepping closer to me, grabbing the little towel knot that stopped it from unwrapping me.

"you gonna get all dolled up for me?" she said, her other hand went to my hip.

"not for you" i slapped her hand as she chuckled. she grabbed me from my arm, pulling me against her.

"you're such a brat. bet you love knowing the effect you have on me hm?" her breath fanning against my neck made me shiver, she let out soft chuckle. "if my hand lowers a little more, i can even feel how soaked it makes you. isn't that right princess?" she said, placing a kiss on my neck, making me feel uneasy.

"you need my fingers? like last time?" she whispered on my ear, kissing and licking my neck as i tried to suppress a moan.

"why yours, if i could get more skillfulled ones?" i said, pushing her away. i grabbed my hairbrush to focus on something else as she scoffed at my statement.

"yeah? they have you clenching, dripping down your thighs like i did?"

"oh yes! i remember my last hookup, she had me begging for more. i even remember calling her dadd-" her hand quickly wrapped around my throat, my back against her chest.

she tightened her grip while choking me, making my cunt throb for more as she made me look at myself in the mirror.

"if i hear you say something like that again i swear-"

"se-mi? stop making my sister mad and come help with the drinks" nam-gyu's voice could be heard from downstairs, breaking the moment. she lose her grip and step away, shouting back. "coming!"

she turned around one more time before leaving my room.

"we're not done princess. if you wanna be a brat, you'll get punished like one"

i left my room with my makeup, hair and outfit done. i locked the door so one got in as i took a quick look at the house. it seemed pretty full even though the party was just getting started.

as i got downstairs, i could see my brother with thanos, min-su and se-mi with a girl on her lap. they were smoking and drinking on the couch.

"look who finally finished getting ready!" thanos said, whistling as he took a look at my outfit.

"that is so short" nam-gyu tried to pull my skirt down as i slapped his hand.

"stop it! i like it that way" i said.

se-mi's eyes didn't leave my body, not even as she squeezed the girl's waist tighter. her stare was glued on my thighs as the short skirt left little to the imagination. i could see her gaze darkening with desire. she hummed in agreement with nam-gyu.

se-mi lifted an eyebrow as a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. i turned around to see no-eul.

"look who's finally here! you invite me yet you don't even wait for me at the door, rude"

my ex.. fling? all the guys knew her. and se-mi did too, of course.

i leave a kiss on the corner of her mouth, as she said a quick hello to my friends. i dragged her to a corner more far away from se-mi and my brother as i heard the group laughing, all except for her.

i could feel her cold stare follow my moves as i headed to the kitchen with no-eul. i grabbed a bottle and poured a shot for her and another for me.

"so, what brings you back?" she said, her arms possesively going around my waist as i drank.

"nothing important, as always" i chuckled, staring at her. "happy to see me?" i said as she nods, cupping my face.

"always" her reply makes me smirk.

as she gets closer to place a kiss, i feel a soft push, breaking us from the moment.

"can i grab the bottle or?" a low voice said, making me face right just to meet se-mi's annoyed gaze.

i handle the bottle as she leans against the counter, staying right besides us.

"you look so pretty tonight" no-eul said as i could see se-mi rolling her eyes from the corner.

"yeah? all for you" i bit my lip as i slid her hand to guide her to my waist. i heard the brunette besides me mumbling something as she kept staring at us.

"you have a problem?" no-eul turned to face se-mi, with an annoyed expression.

se-mi drank a shot, her eyes taking my face.

"oh sorry, it's just that when i had her upstairs with my fingers wrapped around her throat, she didn't seemed to be 'all pretty just for you' " she snickered, making no-eul clench her jaw as she gazed at me.

"are you for real?"

"no! she's a fucking liar, wait-" i cupped her face as she got rid of my grip.

"i'll go get something to smoke, excuse me" she said, disappearing in the crowd.

i turned to se-mi as i punched her arm and she winced.

"you're a fucking jealous cunt and-"

"and you're making me go insane with that little skirt." she said, stopping my rant mid-sentence as i stared at her. "and if you don't stop flirting, i'll have to bend you over against this counter, move your pretty panties aside and insert two fingers on that pretty cunt so everyone can see who's the only one that can do it" she said, pressing our bodies together. she turned around to see if any of the guys could see or hear us, but they were too busy with some girls.

i stood there frozen.

fuck it.

i grabbed the nape of her neck, pulling her towards me, her lips meeting mine with a harsh and desesperate kiss. she quickly returned it.

after a few minutes she softly pushed me, grabbing my hand to drag us to the nereast bathroom. as we got in, she locked the door behind us.

she quickly pushed me against the door, grabbing my thighs to lift me up, making me wrap my legs around her as she kissed me for a second time tonight.

i grabbed her neck, making the kiss more intense. our tongues fought for dominance as we both moaned.

her lips broke with mine to deposit open-mouthed kisses on my neck, biting and licking as i leaned my head aside, giving her better access.

"w-wait se-mi" i said as she kept kissing me. "no, stop"

she stopped the kisses. her eyes were almost black from lust, her lips red and her face filled with a confused expression as she let me down on my feet again.

"i don't get it se-mi. 'this was a mistake', but your eyes want to undress me everytime we're together. and we 'can't date', but everytime i try to move on to forget about you, you're always there to make sure i don't" i raised my voice, that couldn't even be heard right because of the loud music coming from outside.

her hands rubbed her face in frustration as she took a deep breath. she grabbed my hand again, pulling me upstairs and leading into my room. she closed the door behind her as she turned to look at me.

"do you know what nam-gyu would say? he would kick my ass for dating his little sister, i can't do that to my best friend!"

"you can't do that to your best friend so you choose to break my heart instead?"

"that's never what i wanted!"

"well that's what you did when you left me naked in bed, crying my eyes out while you moved on, fucking any girl you could to forget about me because i know damn well you liked me too!" i said, almost screaming. my breathing getting heavier as i took a step towards her.

"doll, i can't-"

"if you can't, then stop messing with my life! if you don't want to date me because you're too afraid then let me fuck with whoever i want! i'm sick of you controlling every interaction i have with someone. either you decide to get serious with me or back off and leave me alone" i said, anger could be heard in every word i said.

she froze at my words. her eyes widen and her lip trembled.

"i guess you're right" she stepped away from me, turning to leave. "i don't deserve you. i- i know you'll find someone better to fall in love with." she said, watching my teary eyes as she left my room, closing the door behind her as i finally let my tears fall.

i lowered my shoulders as i sat in bed, letting out a choked sob. i felt so...pathetic.

i stared at the ceiling for 5 minutes, cursing her in every language i knew while i kept crying.

suddenly, i felt the doorknob moving as the door opened.

and there she was, standing there. she bit her lip piercing as she re-entered my room, closing the door and leaning against it while she stared at me. my eyes wide as i open my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"i know i don't deserve you but.. i'd rather change to be the person you need than letting you go with someone else." she came towards me, her hands cupping my face. "i'll be damned if i see anyone laying their hands on my girl." she said, smashing her lips against mine as i moaned in surprise.

she was leaning since i was in bed, so i grabbed her shirt and pulled her, making her fall on top of me. our lips never breaking the kiss.

i sneaked my arms around her neck, pulling her deeper as she bite my lower lip, making me whimper.

"my pretty girl" she said as her knee got in between my legs, pressing against my center, making me whimper. "i'm keeping that skirt i swear to god. you're such a tease. i wanted to lift it and fuck you right there and then"

"w-wore it just for you, daddy" i hiccuped as her knee made my clit twitch and my cunt throb.

she let out a low groan as she heard my words. her hand wrapped around my throat, leaving me with little to no air as her tongue entered my mouth.

"did anyone ever fucked you the way i did baby? did anyone ever made you squirt like i did that night?" she said, breaking the kiss with a possessive tone as her grip tightened.

i shook my head no, my brain feeling fuzzy from lust and desire.

she lifted my skirt, giving a harsh slap at my pussy, making me let out a choked moan.

"use your words like the big girl you are" she said in a low tone.

"no one e-ever touched me like you did"

her hands roamed through my body, harshly pulling down my top, letting my tits out as i didn't had a bra on. she took one nipple on her mouth, while her hand sneaked to my covered cunt, softly spreading with her fingers the wet patch that formed in my panties, pressing at my clit. i couldn't stop moaning from the sensation.

she separated her mouth of my tits with a loud 'pop'. her fingers pushed my thong aside, spreading the wetness all over my cunt and using it as lube to get two fingers inside of me as her other hand left my throat and flew to my mouth.

"sh, sh, we don't want anyone hearing those pretty moans" she cooed, making my eyes watery from pleasure as her fingers thrusted harsh and quick inside of me.

she lowered to get her face in between my legs, one hand holding my panties aside as the other one kept thrusting. she spit on my cunt, spreading the glob with her tongue around my aching clit.

i chanted her name as her fingers hit the spongy spot inside of me, making my walls clench around her as she moaned, making vibrations hit my clit. my eyes rolled back as i gripped the bedsheets.

as she felt me getting closer and closer, her fingers suddenly left my inside, making me sob.

she moved me around to place me in all fours and slowly began to remove my damp panties. the sight from my mirror was pornographic. the mascara tears running down my cheeks, my tits hanging from the top, my panties now pooled around my knees as the skirt revealed my drooling pussy underneath it.

se-mi gave a few harsh slaps, spanking me. the red print of her hand on my ass felt warm. her fingers gathered my slickness as i felt her breath against me. she licked a fat strip of my pussy from behind, making me moan loudly.

"such a whore. you were this desesperate for me to fuck you again?" she said teasingly as i nodded. "my needy girl"

"please, please daddy" i sobbed as i felt her fingers tease my entrance. my cunt clenching around nothing, waiting for her.

she hummed as her two fingers entered inside of me again, making me whimper as a few tears slipped.

"so pretty on your knees. just for me"

she trusted ruthless as my hand sneaked to circle my clit, clenching around her.

all i could heard was the music downstairs and the wet squelching sounds my cunt made, all wet for her. i couldn't stop moaning louder and louder everytime she hit that spot.

"f-fuck. gonna. cum" i whimpered as the circles on my clit got sloppier and her moves got deeper and quicker. "daddy- i'm gonna squirt all your fingers" i said as she moaned, her fingers going at a faster pace at my words.

while she kept fucking me, her other hand went to my hair, pulling it as she gave one more thrust. the tingle from the harsh pain and her fingers inside made the heat on my lower tummy snap as i could feel myself squirting all over her fingers, wetting the sheets underneath as my body collapsed in bed.

her thrusts got slower until they stopped completely. she removed her fingers from inside of me and placed them on my mouth as i licked them clean with my tongue. she bite her lip and kissed me one last time before getting up.

she came back with a small towel to clean me and then got rid of her clothes, laying besides me.

she hugged me as my head positioned on her chest.

"there wasn't a time in where i wasn't in love with you" she whispered. it felt so intimate, only for me to hear.

"when we were younger, when you got mad at me, the first time we kiss, when we hooked up, i was always head over heels for you, princess". she said. her hand softly caressing my hair, making my eyes close. "i kept trying to forget about you all the time but the feelings were always there, reminding me that i'll never stop loving you. and if, us being together, means we'll have to tell your annoying brother who will probably murder me after, i'll still do it for you"

i smiled and softly chuckled. my heart fluttering from happiness, and god, butterflies were small in comparison to what she made me feel.

"i never stopped loving you either" i replied, feeling a kiss on my temple.

and this time felt different. the cold feeling i had before, when she left me alone in bed, was no longer there.

it felt warm now, with her body besides mine, her love-filled gaze. i knew this time was going to be different.

#se mi x reader #player 380 #player 380 x reader #se-mi #se mi #se-mi x reader #squid game #lesbian #squid game 2 #se mi squid game

489 notes · View notes

jiminjamms · 9 months ago

Text

sex therapy :: 31. gangbangs

summary: a very self-indulgent chapter/pseudo-oneshot. **naoya’s ex-wife becomes toji’s girl. everybody wants a taste, and why not have the younger cousin watch the show?** alternatively, a gangbang with tattooed dilfs and dilf-adjacents.

chapter tags/warnings: five-some, gangbang, sex on tape, gun play (becoming a gun slut), cum play, breeding, creampies, exhibitionism, edging, degradation, praising, mentions of violence (murder, knives, guns), multiple orgasms.

word count: 5.5k

notes: happy kinktober and thank you for waiting! this started off as a concept (in my mind for a year-plus) and evolved into…a monster. too many men, too many hands, too many cocks. got lost in the sauce. despite being a smut chapter in a long fic, this update is borderline porn-without-plot. likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

“I love getting gangbanged."

Naoya woke up in a dark room and to a throbbing headache.

Where…?

He looked around the unfamiliar surroundings slowly, blinking past his grogginess to register what almost looked like a crime movie’s interrogation room and groaning when the wrong angle to his head caused a sharp pain in his shoulder.

All around was an ominous and gloomy shade of gray—the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and heck even the door. How long had he been out for? Without windows, he could not take a wild guess at the time. Not to mention that the room also had no lighting, no pictures, and no décor.

Only him and this...random dinky chair he found himself tied up to.

Wait.

Tied up to?

Right. From what Naoya could last recall, he had been stopped by two men who took him out with a single strike.

In a vain attempt to set himself free, Naoya tugged at his limbs which were fastened behind him with sturdy cords. He twisted and turned, then twisted harder and turned even harder, until an unexpected voice startled him.

“You’re awake.”

Naoya went still.

Having zero visual stimuli sharpened Naoya’s other senses a little. He could feel the labored huffs in his breathing, hear the heavy footsteps that began in the chamber, and even taste the smoke that lingered in the hazy air.

Leering towards the door, Naoya quickly recognized his captors as they approached.

"Don’t give us that foul look, sleepyhead," the taller one whom he remembered as Eso announced as he slowly stopped in front of the scowling blonde. He had on him a wide and nefarious grin. "You had passed out for the last few hours. During that time, you could've been beaten. Or better yet, dead." He glanced up. "Right, Kechizu?"

His accomplice, who stopped on the opposite side, replied with a firm nod. From seemingly nowhere, he had pulled out a pocket knife and grazed the icy blade against Naoya's neck. "Ya feel that? I've been wanting to slit your throat, but I haven't. Lucky, lucky duck. Not everyone is this fortunate. All because our big bro Choso is being super nice to you."

Aware that a wrong move would cost him a jugular vein, Naoya listened intently. Since he worked with the other sex therapists before, he indeed recalled how his former colleague led a tightly-knit assassin ring, in which the members deemed each other 'brothers.'

Kechizu prodded Naoya again with his blade. "Big bro's the only reason you're still alive. Although, I don't know why you'd want to still be breathing now that the whole world knows you've been bumping uglies with your older cousin's ex-wife."

Eso hummed in agreement. "Well, at least for now," he began and he gestured around in vague motions, “you're already in paradise!” Then, he paused. “Well, correction. Here is where we send people to paradise. Or, more likely, hell.”

Noticing how Naoya uncharacteristically froze, the two snickered. In fact, they likely would've continued snickering if not for a shrill tone that pierced the air. The laughter stopped.

Eso's charcoal eyes flicked downwards.

"Left pocket, Kechizu."

The other man obeyed, lowering his knife (and thus giving Naoya an actual chance to breathe) before grabbing the phone from Naoya's blazer. A notification lit up the screen—a message, from you.

“She sent a video.”

Eso and Kechizu intentionally held the screen away, and their face quickly lit up with a sinister smile when they previewed the file. “Oh, yeah. Let's watch.”

“Come join us, sweetheart.”

You thought you were discreet.

Lingering at the doorway, you had been peering into the Zenin Corporation’s CEO Suite like a lost duck. This past afternoon, news about the leadership changes within Japan’s largest conglomerate had spread like wildfire across business and politics networks across the globe, announcing that Naoya Zenin had been forced to resign with Toji Fushiguro reclaiming his position as head of the company.

For the latter, you had questions—many questions. However, an inundated Toji was difficult to approach as he spent his entire afternoon in the office with his also-reinstated directors Sukuna, Geto, and Choso. From your observations, the men had been milling around the table, speaking to each other in hushed but decisive voices in conversations that must remind them of their days managing the Zenin Corporation before Naoya’s takeover.

They all appeared ridiculously handsome with their expensive custom-tailored suits that emphasized their muscular physiques and complemented their towering heights. Surrounded by legal documents and business reports, they carried themselves differently, too. More mature, organized, and serious, especially after hectic meetings with the Chairman Naobito Zenin, your COO father, and internal and external stakeholders had left etches on their calculating faces.

Now, however, Toji Fushiguro had caught sight of your quivering form at the entrance, and soon enough, all eyes turned to you. When you didn’t respond to his first invitation, the executive approached you in confident strides.

“Why do you look so shy?”

At the unanticipated attention, you averted your gaze onto the floor and tried to slink away into the hall slowly. “You all seemed occupied, and I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You're not interrupting anything," he clarified. "We have some time now.”

He tugged your wrist softly, which was all that you needed to follow him like a fawn into the room and crumble onto his lap once he sat down. Despite his dress pants, the warmth from his thighs heated your skin, and Toji nuzzled his face into your neck. His gravelly huffs sounded like all the other times you had heard him rasp, moments followed by endless endearment.

"About Naoya," the older man brought up from seemingly nowhere. You tensed at the name while Toji's cordial lips assuaged you. "Choso’s brothers are making sure he’s not going to do anything funny. We can't have him around as we are transitioning the company. As for you...knowing my cousin, he's going to keep claiming you as his property unless you get through his dense head," and his viridescent pupils flicked upward, "and the only way to do that is to show him.”

Although you didn’t know exactly what he meant, Toji hoisted you in one fluid motion onto his desk and sprawled you across the surface. He pushed your thighs apart, prompting sharp breaths that echoed in the room as onlookers raked their eyes down your figure. Some (namely, Sukuna and Geto) peered down shamelessly, while others (just Choso, really) tried to come off as cool and observed quietly. Nonetheless, the message in their perverted gazes was clear: what they wouldn't give to kiss you, bite you, and mark you right then and there.

Just as you shrank a little from the overwhelming attention, Toji reached for your phone and pressed the device firmly into your palm.

“Let’s send him a message.” Toji’s eyes locked onto yours, unflinching and sharp.

You blinked, raising an incredulous brow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Leaning forward, Toji offered a clear view of the ink scrolling down his neck, his exhales warm against the beading cold sweat on your forehead. “Open up the camera. Let's send Naoya Zenin a surprise.” He gently pinched you. "Like I said, that idiot wouldn't understand shit unless you slam the idea into his dumb skull.”

You hesitated, glancing down at the phone in your hand.

“A photo won't be enough, by the way. We need a video. He won't get the fucking idea unless he sees and hears the proof.” When you complied, Toji turned to the colleague closest to him. "Wanna do the honors, Suguru?"

The said man came forward eagerly, the obsidian in his eyes sparkling. "'No' is never my answer to you, sir." Given your compromising position, he had the easy option to tear your lacy panties and stuff himself into your core except he wanted to take his time.

"I heard a lot about you." His compliments were all purrs that sent hot shivers shooting through your veins. "Mind if I take a go at you, too?"

After being passed between his three other colleagues, you must admit that you had at least thought about what sex with Geto was like, too. "Please."

At the permission, the man smiled and bunched your underwear to one side. The cold air hitting your drenched cunt made you shiver, but the collective groan in the room rumbled even louder, a reminder of the many men around you. Men who were being patient for you. Men who could not stop thinking about you. Men who, because of your ex-husband, had been holding grudges against you.

Geto pulled down his boxers just until the waistband fitted snugly under his balls. His cock stood proud with precum dribbling down his length as he positioned himself in the comfy spot between your thighs. He pressed against the table until his knuckles turned white, aligning himself with your entrance.

Without extra stimulation, your saturated folds welcomed him easily and you gasped loudly at the intrusion.

"Shit, you’re soaking," Geto sighed softly as you clenched around him, swarming his veins with gratification. He tipped his head forward, his loose strands framing his face. “Tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” He was so sweet, so kind. You nodded and hazily recognized that this was what making love was supposed to feel like: tender, gentle, and loving. This was Suguru Geto's charm.

Before you could say more, an opportunistic Sukuna took his place above you. He moved quickly, undoing his belt and tugging hastily at his trousers, humming loudly with relief when he pulled his pants down and his massive cock sprang free. Despite being jostled by another man, you swabbed at the bubbling precum before pushing your thumb into your mouth, relishing his clean and salty tinge on your tongue.

Amused, Sukuna chuckled darkly. "What a fucking tease," he crowed, then patting your cheek. "C'mon. Open up, baby. Let me get to the back of your throat."

With little resistance, he popped your jaw open and sank his massive girth into your mouth. Gradually, you bobbed your head back and forth, letting your tongue lick every millimeter to him. He, likewise, pushed his hips forward, bringing your nose flushed against his well-trimmed patch of pink hair. He plucked the recording phone from your hands, and you sensed him tapping on the screen to focus on the erotic display where your bodies connected, your sinful lips accepting his fat cock with ease.

"You are such a good girl." Sukuna Ryomen confirmed, his movements mind-numbing as though he wanted to breed your esophagus. He wrapped a hand around your windpipe, constricting your airflow and causing you to gag. "Brat looks like a goddamn goddess sucking dick. Isn't that right, Choso?"

No response.

Curious, your pupils rolled to the side.

The assassin's the man you feared the most.

He was quiet, always guarded, his mysterious eyes pulling you in like two black holes. You could never know what he’s thinking about, although you lucidly remember his crooked obsession with 'disciplining' you.

"Hey, honey.” Geto's deft fingers suddenly gripped your chin, forcing your gaze to return to him. “Pay attention to us, m'kay?"

You hummed in response, Sukuna’s dick still bulging visibly in your throat.

"I don’t want you to lose focus," an overly aroused Suguru went on to explain. He breathed heavily. Shaking. Or maybe that was you? He clutched your love handles harshly before he pulled out and stepped to the side, making you stroke himself with your delicate hands instead. Briefly, you assumed that Geto preferred handjobs and wanted to ejaculate onto your breasts, only to get your answer when your puffy clit came into contact with the sharp coolness from…metal?

"Choso," Toji's harsh voice warned.

Brought back to your senses, you looked down to see Choso using the fluids to lubricate...his gun. You recognized the weapon, the same one you had seen in his car. The same one he would use to kill. All air in your lungs left swiftly. What the actual fuck. Sheer mortification was the only reason you didn't have the guts to do anything (because, if Choso became irritated enough, he could pull the trigger and then you would have no guts at all), and your silence only gave him a reason to continue defiling you into his personal gun slut.

He stared at his boss with an unperturbed frown. "You know I like her too much to hurt her."

A squeal tumbled past your lips when the pistol's freezing barrel pressed past your tight hole. Although you partially expected Toji to warn the weapon-wielding man again, Toji instead leaned forward in his chair, jaw resting on his fist. He could seem more concerned, but the mirthful glimmer in his emerald eyes said otherwise.

Meanwhile, Choso's piercing gaze alone made you sweaty, your forehead turned glossy with a sheen. He lazily massaged your inner walls, your warm arousal coating his cool metal before leaking onto the table, the only struggle now was how your body involuntarily twitched. To your fascination (and horror), pleasure began to build with each too-hard pass of his barrel. There were just too many sensations going on. Messy mouth deepthroating one cock, slicked hands stroking another, and sloppy cunt taking in a gun. You did your best to give everybody equal attention because you were a desperate crowd-pleaser, not wanting anyone to feel left out.

With your back arched from the table, you became increasingly frantic, demonstrating through feverish movements that all you were was their obedient little bitch. All these hands on your body, skin on your skin. You felt them all, the senses exhilarating and fascinating.

Toji sternly interrupted from seemingly nowhere. “I can tell from your movements that you want to cum, don’t you?” Maybe, but you were too overwhelmed to focus solely on your pleasure. Nothing that your therapists couldn't help with. Leaning over, Toji snaked an arm around your body to press tight circles at your engorged clit. "Be selfish for a little bit," he coaxed. "Cum for us."

His permission sent you immediately vaulting over the edge, your whole body spasming as an orgasm tore through you. Your lips parted, but you didn't scream. Your eyes shut slowly and rolled to the back of your head as every millimeter in your fragile body unraveled completely—fluttering, cramping, and shuddering.

Your ears became blessed with chorused laughter and praise.

Choso inspected your copious juices that suddenly coated his gun, a translucent thread trailing from the barrel to your now-exposed cunt. Reaching over, Sukuna wrapped his hand around Choso's forearm. He leaned into the pistol and parted his lips, swirling his tongue slowly around the barrel. His maroon eyes were half-lidded, giving him an almost lazy yet focused look as he dragged his tongue along the metal, lapping up your precious essences—the syrups rich and just a bit tangy. Drooling and sucking like a little kid with a lollipop, Sukuna didn't care that his spit trailed from the metal down to the other man's wrist and flipped the camera to selfie mode to capture the action.

Towards the end, his tongue swiped over his lips, leaving a luster from your elixir that coated his mouth. “So fuckin’ sweet.”

After another generous lick, he swished the concoction in his mouth before pinching your chin, and your mouth propped open. Pleased, he hummed when you stuck your tongue out, showcasing just how naughty you were. He drooled the spittle into your mouth, the saline taste blossoming on your taste buds, a thread of spit connecting your chin and his.

"Sharing," Sukuna chuckled darkly into your phone's microphone, "is absolutely fucking caring."

Nearby, Suguru groaned. He hurriedly clambered to the comfy space between your plush thighs, shoving a grumbling Choso aside. "I'm so fucking close."

He buried his dick into your tunnel, the veins on his cock pulsating. Call him selfish or masochistic, but as much as he wanted to reach his high, Geto denied his orgasm to stay longer inside and prevented himself from fucking bursting.

“Don't hold back, Suguru,” you urged.

Geto furrowed his brows, sweat gathering on his forehead as he tried his best to hold out. He admitted earnestly, "I don't want to give you up, baby.”

“I want you to cum,” you said, all whiny with puppy eyes. Free hand slithering down, you cupped his aching balls and gently squeezed his heavy testes. "Besides,” you glanced over at the camera, “show Naoya how you can breed me…daddy."

Sugaru’s eyes widened at the unexpected nickname that he loved so much. That’s it. He’s done for. His handsome features crumpled from an over-the-top pleasure as he gave his snapping hips one final push and pumped you full, coating your cervix white with his thick essence as he rested his head against your forehed, panting into your ear and moaning into your skin.

Pressing one last kiss on your cheekbone, he pulled himself out of your hot cunt, allowing others to have their way with you.

Sukuna got behind you eagerly. He repositioned your shaking body, his calloused hands tossing you over and leaving you panting on your hands and knees. His harsh squeeze at your sides made you squeal just as he pulled your legs apart for easier access, exposing your cute hole.

"Shit, she's making a mess, dripping onto the desk." The same desk that belonged to Naoya merely several hours ago. Adjusting your phone camera, Sukuna thumbed through your folds like they were pages in a book, scoffing at the viscous dallops that slid out. The tattoos on his wrists gleamed pitch black under the glossy mixed juices.

"Suguru's cock did you well, but this pretty lady isn't finished yet, eh? She can take more. I know she can." His hands weaved into your hair and tugged harshly. "Tell us, missy. You can handle more, correct?"

The threat in his menacing tone only suggested there was one answer. You whimpered pathetically, "Yes."

With a crooked smile, Sukuna pressed his muscular form against your back. That man was starving. After all, he had been waiting to have your pussy properly wrapped around his painful erection when he could've greedily taken you for himself first.

"Stop moving so I can angle myself correctly," Sukuna reprimanded when you wobbled on all fours.

Hardly any time was given to let you register the warning before the man plunged into your sensitive socket. He ignored your desperate wail, amazed at how he plugged you all the way. His pace started off sensual and languid. Each snug press against your battered cervix at first made you squeak, but you became too far caught up in the moment that the discomfort disappeared as promptly as the sensation came.

"Mhm," Sukuna hummed, a squelch ringing through the room each time he would bottom out. He didn't need to say anything for him to feel how wet you were, fluids trickling out from your puffy hole and creating what looked like the Nile River running down your thighs.

"Holy fuck," Choso swore to the side, his emotions a rare display.

Blissful waves rushed to your head, one after another. Arousal flooded into your tummy, your cunt twitching uncontrollably as a second climax started to sneak up on you.

Sukuna groaned—or at least attempted to groan—through the exertion of his forceful movements. How he had missed playing with you. A few trickles of sweat on his forehead glided over the ink on his forehead before dripping onto your back. He pumped himself faster, his balls smacking against your clit harder—savoring how you squirmed underneath his direct influence.

He could not resist peering down at the sacred space where your bodies connected and ensured that the camera, too, had an unobscured view. The problem was he had become so agonizingly turned on that his hold on your phone began shaking. He rasped, back straightening. “Goddamn, your cunny does me good.”

Not long after, he reached his release snarling and grunting like a dog as white ropes shot from his cock and into your uterus, with him nearly dropping your device onto your ass from his sheer ecstasy.

"No!" you protested loudly when Sukuna pulled out abruptly, hissing as your empty hole clenched around nothing. "I..." You balled your fists, thumping the desk in frustration. "I was so fucking close."

"Don't worry." The strawberry-haired man tenderly brushed away the tears by your jaw. Like he hoped to comfort you somehow. "Nothing Choso can't help with. He'll take great care of you." He looked over at the said colleague. “Isn’t that right?”

Gulping, you followed his gaze to the other man who had stopped behind you.

"You look nervous," Choso commented matter-of-factly. "Why?"

As if he didn’t already know the answer. You rolled your eyes and snorted like a true brat, indeed. "None of your business."

Besides, you had enough encounters with Choso Kamo, each incident more indecent than the last. This time, he naturally noticed your eyes drift to the gun tucked into his back pocket, the saps from earlier creating an ample moist patch on his pants.

“So, tell me, bimbo," Choso spoke again. He didn't care to announce himself as he unbuckled and pressed in, stretching you with his thickness, aided by your copious reserve containing both arousal and cum, hitting that sweet spot that he had no problem finding over and over. "Did you think I had been done with you already?"

Holding in whimpers from his repeated thrusts, you let out a soft groan.

"I can't hear you."

"Yes."

“But, do you want me?”

Silence.

“I am not going to repeat my—”

"I want you s’ badly..."

A demon must have possessed you. There was no other way to explain yourself. But those remarks were all Choso needed before he began to move impossibly fast within you. He didn’t care that he pounded into you like a beast, creating a commotion that perhaps the floor below could hear your wetness reverberate around the room.

"This is for being a fucking tease." Choso raised his hand high and then delivered an unforgiving blow against your ass. Unprepared, you yelped from the sheer force, which had been enough to leave a handprint on your unblemished cheeks.

"I didn't—!" Your attempt to defend proved futile as Choso spanked you again with little regard for your feelings.

"This is for giving me an attitude," he continued, gruff. And again. "For forgetting how to behave, shit." And again, and again, and again. For this, for that, his listed grievances going on and on and on, his punishments making you cry and squirm and wail.

Choso knew he was selfish. If his boss Toji wasn't involved, he would want nothing more than to keep you forever, making you his little gun slut and teaching you to cum all over him. He couldn’t help it. As if the roles were reversed. Like he was the inexperienced one, unaware of his partner's feelings and only caring for his pleasure. He remained relentless as he continued his abuse, the tendons along his hands and arms flexing with his efforts, like the crazed killer he was being out for blood.

The distressed expression written all over your face only made him want to go harder. He loved making it hurt, his sadistic personality entirely to blame. With every pump, his testes smacked onto your clit repeatedly, feeling him sink deeper and deeper inside.

“F-Fuck—S’ too much, Choso!” A sob wracked your trembling figure amidst his assault. In distress, you tugged at his wrists to get him to ease up on you. That didn't matter. He was too strong, especially when compared to you.

"I thought you wanted to cum."

"I do!" But you didn't think you would be able to cum like this. "This...This is too painful!"

As if he cared.

"Oh, please," Choso scoffed, even rolling his inky eyes in dismissal. "This isn't painful. You're just being dramatic. If you think this is painful...how do you think I felt, hm? Watching Geto and Sukuna take turns defiling you. Hearing you blubber their names without shame. Did you think that I—with my cock stiff in my pants—that I didn't feel pain? Listen to yourself. God, turns out you're just another selfish slut."

Scorching tears streamed down your face, and you searched around desperately.

"No one here's going to save you," Choso announced, reading right through you. He pressed his face against your earlobe, a hot puff of air fanning out across your delicate skin. "Because it's too obvious. You fucking like this, pup."

Did you?

Even if that wasn't the case, you guess you did now, the unwavering conviction in Choso's tone spurring a change of heart. It’s sick, you realized, he’s manipulating me.

Yet, sure enough, you soon started to feel lighter, giddier. Your pupils dilated from stimulation and your muscles tingled with excitement. Choso felt so good. You felt so good, and the coil from deep within your cervix compressed tighter and tighter as a pressure built from within.

"I'm close...again." This time, it's a little embarrassing to admit, especially when you were complaining like a puppy just minutes ago.

"What did I tell you, pet," Choso growled, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards in a rare grin. He made you feel glorious. Consequently, you writhed underneath his body, fully submissive under his control. You wanted nothing more than to be a pliant baby girl for him, let him use you in any way he wants. "Cum and squeeze my cock."

“Make me.”

“Oh?”

One final blow to your ass was what hurled your body over the edge.

“I—” you choked on your spit. "I'm coming!"

You shrieked the moment you felt your body disintegrate, your shoulder blades caving in as sweat fell like raindrops from your skin. Elbows giving up, your head hit the table, leaving your temples pulsing with dizziness, bliss, and pain; your eyes staring at the wood finishing; your chest rising up and down, exasperated from the intensity of your release.

And oh, your pussy squeezed Choso good. Before he could hold himself back, Choso dug his nails into your ass. "Fuck, you are incredible," was the last thing he muttered before he came as well in one long grunt, splattering your womb with his creamy semen. He made you tremble when he pulled out, releasing the mess inside and leaving you feeling oddly empty and cold. Glob after glob of cum oozed out, semen from multiple perpetrators painting over your labia, which made the surrounding men grin at the sight, knowing that you held all their seed inside.

Nothing except their breeding hole, that was what you had become. There was something they adored about labeling you as their personal whore.

Not long afterward, a warm hand took yours into his own. Toji caressed the skin of your palm before pulling you right onto his lap again. In the end, he was whom you belonged to. If anybody wanted to do anything to you, they had to talk to him first.

Toji helped you straddle him, tucking one leg onto his either side, except you were so fucked out that you didn’t know who you were or where you were from.

"C'mon, honey. Don't lose yourself just yet," he murmured gently, brushing a few free strands from your forehead. Otherwise, you would've gone limp and lost all senses completely.

Toji had been waiting for you. He considered this a sign of his maturity, allowing the younger and more impatient men to make a mess with you first. Now, though, was his turn, fair and square.

His exposed length pressed up against his abdomen with fantastic girth and length such that—despite your current state—your pupils went heart-eyed and your mouth drooled from sight alone. He loved when you made that expression, one he had seen countless times in his dreams; a guilty pleasure in reality. He chortled at your sharp gasps, finding you adorable even after being stuffed by several men.

However, just when you didn't think you could handle more, his red-flushed head brushed over your clit and jolted your veins with the familiar wave of arousal. You shifted, the sticky mess between your legs uncomfortable. In a brief moment of lucidity, you had an epiphany. With one hand resting on Toji's shoulder, you reached down with the other to spread your folds, biting your lip as you clamped down on your sensitive walls hard.

Sure enough, a generous amount of cum trickled out of your used cunt, oozing onto Toji’s cockhead and sliding down gradually to his balls.

"Holy shit."

Eyes grew wide with surprise, jaws dropped in reaction to your nasty actions. Since when did you learn to become so dirty? Flushed cheeks betrayed their interest as they continued their lustful staring. Generous was what you were, letting them ogle like schoolchildren for a few moments longer before you scooped up the slick and began to suck on your fingers. Softly, you hummed at the succulent flavors concocted by you, Suguru, Sukuna, and Choso combined.

"Next up is you."

“So fuckin’ filthy," Toji praised with utter adoration.

As you continued, you made sure not to break eye contact as you subtly rutted your sopping cunt against his tip. You coyly batted your long lashes in his direction, making sure he could feel the liquids running down his cock and the throbbing pussy that awaited him.

You smiled. "All yours, Dr. Fushiguro."

He suddenly grew smitten at how polite you could be, and using his hands as a guide, he helped you sink into him slowly. “Goddamn.” The sound that emerged from him was wholly obscene, a carnal desperation only matched by your movements, your thighs constricting his hips and your eyes rolling backward. How cozy, you discovered yourself to be, snug at his hilt. Toji had filled you all the way but a few centimeters of his cock remain, his tip already kissing against your spent uterus.

Something about knowing that his little cousin would watch this made Toji want to do everything to push deeper into you. He started by rocking your waist against a rhythm, and a near-pornographic mewl escaped your lips when his shaft ran over an especially sensitive spot, the ridges rubbing against your cavern and sending pleasure through your every limb. He hummed at the way you squealed and loved how expressive you were with your body and feelings.

His tongue laved across your shoulder before stopping over your collarbone. "You'll still go back to Naoya after this?"

"Absolutely not," you mumbled with sincerity. "I would hate myself if I did."

“Excellent,” he slurred, his spit drooling down your back from where his mouth had latched onto your neck. “That’s…exactly what I wanted to hear, baby.”

Baby. Your eyes squeezed shut, responding with a whine. Although the overstimulation was originally uncomfortable, you began to feel satisfaction cut through the soreness once again as your body prepared for one more climax. You rocked your hips in need, like an animal in heat, a sight that would certainly drive your ex-husband crazy. “F-Feels,” you paused to pant, “Feels good.”

“Fuck.” Toji gritted out, breaking through his cacophony of crude moaning and effectively searing your skin. He continued steering your body in the rhythm he learned you liked, his nails nearly piercing your skin despite their bluntness. He cupped your jaw harshly. “What are you to us, sweetheart?”

“Oh.” You laughed a little, clearly delirious, and then replied. “'M your cumdump.”

“Say that again.”

“I—”

“Louder.” The emeralds in his heavy-lidded eyes skated briefly to the phone. “I want everyone to hear.”

So, you mustered all your energy to give your final answer—and the correct answer. "I am your cum dumpster!"

Toji started saying something, chuckling maybe, but his words weren’t clear even as he tossed his head back. His breathing was deep, wet, and sexy, and he was no doubt blistering hot in his business blazer, his slicked-back hair soaked with sweat and hanging limply in front of his flushed face. His expression, on the other hand, was what got you the most; his eyes drawn shut, his brows slightly pinched, his mouth just barely parted.

He panted, raising his head to lock lips with yours, moaning into your mouth lewdly before pulling back, and admiring your fucked out expression, face heated and sweating.

“Shit, you’re too good to me,” was the last thing Toji sighed before he added to your womb with his hot cum, his grip on your body tightening as his balls twitched and lodged his precious seed into the sacred cavern. Pussy clamping down, you milked him, not willing to let a single drop go to waste, gasping when the explosive warmth made you shatter with him, leaving you hiccuping and spasming until you were just jolting and crying out from the stretched muscles in your body.

Overheated, you slumped forward. Sweat rolled uncomfortably down your back, spit smeared across your neck and shoulders and chin.

But you looked up and giggled at your latest discovery.

“I love getting gangbanged."

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: I spent way more time preparing this chapter than I expected, writing, rewriting, and editing. Adding, shortening, then adding again. (At some point, this was nearly 7K words.) This is far from perfect, but I must relinquish myself. Thank you again for reading!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @sakuraryomen01 @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzuruu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @lazyassfinals @katkbc @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

680 notes · View notes

clockwayswrites · 10 months ago

Text

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 21

CW: discussions of mental health and past temporary character death Masterpost

“Hey Dandelion, do you have everything?” Dick asked as he peered into Danny’s room— or the room that Danny had been using since they moved to this safe house.

Now that they were moving to the Manor, Danny would be getting his actual room with the rest of them in the family wing. For those that had moved out, the Manor wasn’t their only home, but it was still home and their room was still their room. Or at least for Dick and Cass. Jason… Dick knew that it was still harder for Jason.

Thinking about it now, Dick didn’t know if he’d actually ever seen Jason actually sleep in his childhood room again. Jason was always up first, helping Alfred in the kitchen on the rare nights that he stayed over. Once Dick had fond Jason still asleep in the library, book still in hand. Maybe it was something to change. Maybe it could change, now that Danny was there to bring up the conversation.

“Danny?”

“Sorry,” Danny said with a slightly water smile. His little brother was clutching his blue bear, as he almost always was these last few days. “I, um, yeah, I think I have everything.”

Dick sat down on the edge of the bed next to Danny. “But?”

“But?” Danny repeated. His brows crunched up adorably.

Dick leaned over to bump their shoulders together. “But you don’t seem happy. If this is all too soon, we can delay.”

Danny gave a little, unhappy snort. “You all keep delaying for me. I didn’t want to meet Bruce so you kept him away. I didn’t want to tell you things and you all still haven’t made me.”

“We want you to be comfortable and feel safe.”

“I do,” Danny insisted. “I have and I… and I still ran, didn’t I? I was safe and cared for and I ran. And now I don’t want to leave here. That’s so stupid of me!”

“It’s not—”

“It is!” The words seemed to choke Danny. “It is. I trust you! I trust you and Hood and B.B. and I… I still can’t! I want to tell you, but I still can’t…”

Dick wrapped Danny up in his arms, pulling his brother tight against his chest and cradling Danny there as he sobbed. There had been a lot of tears in the last few days, and Dick knew that there would be many more. He didn’t try to shush Danny, just kept him held close until the tears ran out.

“Sorry,” Danny mumbled against Dick’s damp shirt.

Dick took a moment to think of his words. “This family is bad about trauma, which isn’t great because we have a lot of it. But we all know it. And… and you can feel completely safe and still have part of you that’s terrified because of the trauma. That if you speak it or face it or acknowledge it the trauma will suddenly have so much power over you and… and all the worst things that you fear in the dark quiet of the night will be true. It makes you fear that the same people you’re safe with and love you will look at you differently or blame you. And… um…”

He needed a moment to breathe, face buried against Danny’s dark locks, as his own monsters reared up. “And there are people who might. But not… not us. We have been through so much as a family and no mater what we’re still family. And you’re part of that too now, Danny. So it’s okay to be scared or sad or not tell us things, but none of that changes that you’re family. If we argue or get annoyed or cry we’re still family. So don’t be sorry. Please, don’t be sorry for any of it because I don’t want you to be sorry for being family, okay?”

“Okay,” Danny said, breath choked but words still sure. “Okay.”

Dick carded gentle fingers through Danny’s hair. “Look at it this way, you’ve already tamed Damian. That’s a big step in this family.”

Danny’s snort of laughter was slightly lost with the way his was still buried against Dick’s chest. “I don’t think Damian can ever be tamed. He’s like one of those… whatchamacalls it. Those tiny desert cats with the highest kill ratios for predators. Small and kitten shaped but still very wild.”

“Yeah, okay, maybe you’re right. Adorable and stabby is pretty accurate,” Dick agreed. “But it’s going better than it did with Tim! You should ask him about it— actually, you know what, don’t. Don’t ask about it. Water under the bridge. Bloody, bloody water.”

“…what?”

“Yep, never mind! Okay. Let’s double check you have everything,” Dick said, hauling them both bodily to their feet.

When in doubt, distract.

Alfred was struck silent when he opened the door. That was not something that happened often and in fact his sharp tongue was something that Alfred prided himself on. But in that moment, he was without words.

Young Daniel looked so distinctly like Bruce at that age, down to the haunted look of desperate hope waging battle against a highly rational mind, that Alfred was thrown back into times past. Back then, even half a decade after past Thomas and Martha’s death, Alfred still had no idea how to handle a child. At least now he had more of an idea.

“Welcome home, Master Danny,” Alfred said and stepped aside to let the newest Wayne enter the Manor.

Master Dick and Master Jason flanked the boy like towering honor guards.

“I am Alfred Pennyworth, and you may call me Alfred, or Alfie if you must. Master Jason certainly seems to prefer it,” Alfred said with a fond look Jason’s way. “If there is anything you need, at any time of day or night, to feel more comfortable here you simply need to ask me. It is my duty and honor to serve this family, which very much includes you.”

“I— ah, thank you, Alfred,” Danny said softly. He was quiet in a different way than young Bruce had been and the Bristol accent was almost shockingly absent, even though Alfred had known it wouldn’t be present.

“Of course. Now, lunch is in about an hour. I thought perhaps you might like to settle into your room a little before the meal,” Alfred said and turned slightly towards the stairs.

Danny obediently fell into step. That behavior was much more like Tim’s had been when he first arrived. Alfred tucked that thought away with the rest.

“You are in the family wing, of course. Master Bruce, Master Duke, and Master Damian are the other permanent residents of the manor. While the others still have their rooms, they come and go,” Alfred explained as they made their way to and up the stairs. “We have put together a room that we hope will be suitable for you, but anything that isn’t to your liking, we can easily change it.”

“We’ll go shopping in a few days too,” Dick said. “We can grab some things then that you might like for the walls and desk.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Danny said quickly.

“Fine’s not the goal, kid,” Jason said. “The goal is to make this home.”

Danny was silent in response to that. Alfred made another mental note to check in with Danny about the room a few times and possibly even to suggest items.

“Master Bruce’s room is at the end of the hall,” Alfred explained when they reached the top of the stairs. “Master Dick’s on the left and Master Jason’s on the right of it. This way we have Master Tim’s and Miss Stephanie’s. While she is not family, there have been enough nights she has stayed over to warrant the space. Miss Cass’, Master Damian’s, Master Duke’s next and this is yours, Master Danny.”

Alfred opened the door to the room with a little bow. As with every room in the manor, it was fitted with a bed, two side tables, a dresser, and a credenza all in the same dark wood. There had thankfully been enough time to paint the walls a two tone blue and bring a desk from one of the other rooms. The star project sat on the desk next to the basic supplies and an air diffuser. Already the room smelled softly of sandalwood. The bed was dressed in blues and creams with an extra, luxuriously soft blue blanket draped across the foot of the bed.

Danny stepped into the room almost cautiously.

Alfred moved back to give Danny room and took an even breath. Danny would settle with time.

“Lunch in an hour,” Alfred reminded the trio of Wayne boys as he took his exit. He’d best made sure that Danny’s first meal here was a fine one. After all, this would be home.

Dick entered the library quietly. He might be there to actively disturb Jason, but he didn’t have to be rude about it. Besides, it was nice to see Jason settled in an armchair, curled up slightly around a book. It was easy to see the little kid that Jason used to be like this.

(Dick made himself shake that vision away.)

“So,” Dick started as he settled in, arms crossed, against the back of the armchair across from Jason, “Danny’s first day in the manor seemed to go alright.”

Jason looked up from the book with a soft frown. “Yeah. We’ll see how tonight goes. Worried about nightmares for him. Just since it’s a new place and all.”

“I could see that happening,” Dick agreed. “Luckily we’ll all be close up upstairs if he does have one. You and me will just have to work not to run into each other as we bust out of our rooms.”

Jason’s fingers scrapped lightly against the pages of the book as he fanned them, gaze away from Dick and uneasy.

“Jason—”

“What did you mean about hallucinating?”

Dick’s intended question crashed to a halt against the roof of his mouth as he snapped it closed. What? When had he said…

“Um,” Dick cleared his throat to get rid of the lingering pile up. “What now?”

“When Danny ran, after your panic attack you said you were good, you weren’t at ‘the hallucinating stage yet’.” Jason looked up, pining Dick with that forever green tinted gaze. “What did that mean, Dick?”

It was Dick’s turn to look away as he scrambled to make a new plan of how to approach this. He’d never… how he was after Jason’s death, how it had broken him… that wasn’t something Dick ever wanted to burden Jason with. Bruce’s own lapse of sanity, Tim ending up in the Robin suit, Dick knew how those things weighed on Jason. As if it had been Jason’s fault he died. Dick breathed out a slow, measured breath. Guess there was no avoiding it now.

But Dick wasn’t going to let that information go without using some of it to his own favor. “Fine, I’ll explain but you have to stay and talk through the question I have for you too, deal?”

Jason took a silent moment. “…yeah, fine, deal.”

“Okay. Right. Um…” Dick rubbed his hands together, then circled the armchair and sat lightly down on the edge of the too soft cushion. Had the rich green fabric always been so itchy? “So, it’s nothing major, really, just that I have, before— at just one period actually— when I really stressed and too emotional about things, maybe had some hallucinations. But! But, I knew h—they were hallucinations and not real. It wasn’t like I was listening to the voice telling me to do anything or following after someone who didn’t exist or anything! It was— I dealt with it. It was fine. It hasn’t happened in a long time now.”

“You were hallucinating.”

“Yes.”

“A person.”

“Yes.”

“You could see them and hear them? Jesus, Dick,” Jason said, abandoning his book to rub at his face. “How bad was it? Did they talk back? Did you talk back? Did—”

“Yes! Okay, yes!” Dick exploded out of his chair. “Yes I could hear them. Yes I could see them! Yes he could talk back! Yes I talked back to him! Of course I talked back to him. You… you were gone, little wing. You were gone and I didn’t think— who could have thought you’d come back? You were gone and I know… I know he wasn’t real. I know he wasn’t you, but how I was I going to turn away any chance to talk to you when you were gone? Even when it was just… just my mind being cruel.”

“Me? You were— Dick, you were seeing me?”

The armchair cushioned Dick’s heavy fall back into it.

He shrugged.

What could he say to that? What could he say other than another torn ‘yes’?

“Jesus fucking… Dick.” Jason sounded torn.

Dick didn’t want to look up to see his brother’s expression.

Apparently Jason wasn’t having that because a moment later he was crouched in front of Dick, forcing himself into Dicks view.

“It’s not your fault,” Dick said quickly. Even as Jason’s large, calloused hand came to rest on his cheek Dick kept talking. The words needed to come out. “I just handled coming back from space and the mission to the… to the news badly. And Bruce was in a state. He’d ripped down every photo of you like just seeing your presence would break him and I think it would have! I know you— I know there are issues with you two and I’m not invalidating that, but he was so close to breaking and I was just angry about it all. And then Alfred put up that damn suit in that case like that and all I could— all I could see was the little brother that I’d never gotten to show how happy I was to have… and then I did see you. In a way. It just…”

Dick didn’t realize he was crying until Jason’s thumb wiped a tear away.

“Okay.” Jason took a deep breath. “Okay, so I’m going to need you to repeat part of that.”

“Bruce? Or that I’m sorry? Or—”

“Alfred. Alfred put the suit on display?”

Dick blinked, scattering more tears he ignored. “Yes? Did you— you didn’t know that? Did you think it was— No. Bruce couldn’t even handle seeing a photo of you! I thought Alfred putting that case in the Cave was going to kill Bruce. Drive him to finally let himself be killed like Tim said he was trying to do.”

“Right, fuck that. I’m going down and—” Jason started to stand and then took a knee again quickly and clasped Dick’s face on both sides. “No. No, first, if you ever and I mean fucking ever get to the point of hallucinating like that again you come to me or call me or anything. Do you hear me, big bird? If it gets bad or you think it will you come to me. I’m your little brother. You come to me.”

For a moment, Dick let himself close his eyes. He let himself close his eyes and breathe and take comfort in his little brother being there. “Promise.”

“Okay. Now, I’m going to go smash a case.”

Dick reached out and caught Jason’s hand. “Wait, you owe me an answer.”

“Dick.”

“You said you would! And I promise after we’ll go smash that fucking case together, okay? I’ve always hated it. But a deal is a deal.”

Jason basically deflated as he sat down on the floor at Dick’s feet. He rubbed a hand across his face. Dick felt bad, but he had bared his own soul and payment was due.

“Jay, have you ever slept in your room? Since you’ve been back, I mean. Since you’ve been back, have you ever actually slept a night in your room here?”

There was a long moment of silence where deal or no, Dick didn’t know if Jason was going to answer. Then—

“I can’t, Dick. It’s just— have you seen it? Nothing’s changed! It belongs to a dead kid and I just can’t. I can’t be him anymore.”

“Okay. Tomorrow I’ll clean it out for you.”

Jason’s head snapped to look up at Dick.

Dick shrugged. “This is your home too. Tomorrow I’ll clean it out. I can put it in a bunch of boxes and label it all or—”

“Toss it,” Jason spat and then quickly amended in a softer voice, “Not the books, leave those. And I guess… pack up and notebooks you find and stash them somewhere. You can… if there’s clothing Danny or Damian might like, give it to them. But the rest… toss the rest.”

“Okay, I can do that. And when I take Danny out in a few days you can come too and we’ll out some new things for your room too.”

“Dick,” Jason started, a clear protest. And then he sighed like all the air was let out of him. “Okay. But just like sheets and stuff.”

“Sure,” Dick agreed easily and with a too innocent smile. Before Jason could question it, Dick escaped sideways from the chair. “Now come on, we have a case to smash.”

Jason scrambled up from the floor. “We’re burning the suit after.”

“Of course we are. We’ll torch it on your grave.”

--- AN: Well this was a very dramatic section! Who knew that adding Danny to the family would help the rest of them deal with things! And yep, it's canon that the case with Jason's suit and that damn plaque are Alfred's doing, not Bruce's.

Stay delightful, darlings!

#dp x dc #batpham #city pigeons

747 notes · View notes

lestatthelioncourt · 26 days ago

Text

My Home My Rules

Sinners Mardi Gras/Modern au (Prompt by @brownskincheyenne ! 💜)

Synopsis : Annie is taking her beloved found family to Mardi Gras and she was invited to join a parade. Be prepared for chaos and a jealous Smoke.

This most likely will be a 3-5 part story, that's the goal at the least!

Author Notes: Smoke/Annie and Stack/Mary are 24-25, Sammie and Pearline are 21 . Just fyi

Disclaimer: 18+, use of n word (I'm black raah)

Chapter 1

“Just let me try again bro, it's important to understand the phrase and say it right- you wanna be a failure around a big ass group of people?” Stack asked frantically, gripping onto Smoke’s arms, emphasizing the utter embarrassment he'd feel. Smoke let out a huff of air through his nose.

“Fine, go on ahead, try it for the 50th time.” He grumbled, watching as his younger brother stood up from the couch.

The two of them were in Annie’s living room, the soft brown sofa lightly smelled of cocoa fabric softener. He saw her use it on the furniture many times. He loved how she took care of everything she owned. He watched as Stack somehow knocked his heel into the bottom of it, even if it was slight, it made his nose scrunch up in irritation.

“Laissez les bon temps rouler…” Stack said with much more confidence, and he quickly turned to the couch in excitement. Flexing his arms in his red Adidas-branded shirt, “Did I say it right? Do you know Smoke?”

Smoke was glad he wasn't the only one around to comment; Sammie was also there, just sitting on the love chair with his legs crossed while texting on his phone. He wore a yellow hoodie with jeans, and his foot shook gently in his sneakers. One AirPod was in his ear for him to listen to music. He looked up at his older cousins in amusement, a small smile on his face as he tuned into the conversation.

“You said it right, Stack.” His low voice was gentle and reassuring. “Laissez les bon temps rouler.” He repeated.

As the eccentric man grinned, his gold grills shone, “Well, look at us, Sammie, you think we can get some New Orleans baddies with that line?”

“Why would you want a ‘New Orleans baddie’?” Sammie used quotations with one hand.

“Damn fool… It's not even sexy.” Smoke muttered.

“Aren’t you tryna get stuff right with Mary?” The youngest of the three asked, lacking the confidence to glare at Stack as Smoke had started to.

Smoke stood up from the couch. He walked towards the TV and grabbed his cart out of his sweatpants, took a hit of it, and then put it back. He let it flow out of his nose as he coughed softly. “Is she still coming on the trip?” He asked.

A loud groan full of exhaustion echoed through the room. Stack was the cause of it as he had his hands covering his face. He was animated; he couldn't help what others would see as a dramatic display. “She ain't text me or call me yesterday, I think I fucked up y’all…” he groaned again before standing next to Smoke and yanking the vape out of his pocket and taking a hit.

Smoke softened up as he saw him truly discouraged, “She still coming on the trip though? This is for Annie; she put a lot of time into this.” His twin nodded, and he just sighed. “Maybe y'all can use this as a chance to get things straight. She can realize you ain't mean what you said.” He took the cart back from Stack as he could feel the mellowness from him. It caused his own usual sour mood to worsen.

Sammie looked uncomfortable too when Stack took a while to say anything, he filled the unusual silence with a question of his own. “...What even happened again?” His voice was a hesitant whisper, hoping not to open the wound further in the room. He was glad to see Stack at least sit up and take a breath to speak.

“She saw me kissing some girl-”

“Kissing a girl?”

“Let me finish, Sammie,” He said while putting his hands in front of himself, “I didn't mean for it to happen! She just pounced on me, but Mary holds everything in mind. She is like a goddamn folder drawer of all of my wrong doings, she brought back when I cheated on my ex in highschool! Before I even dated her! Can you believe it?” he ranted, reaching for the cart in Smoke’s hand, but he couldn't grab it since it was already in the other's mouth. He scoffed and then just crossed his arms. “As if high school me and now are even remotely the same.”

Elijah blew the smoke away from Annie’s couch; he didn't want any of it on it. It smelled too much like her to ruin like that. “Truthfully, you ain't changed too much.” That earned him a glare that he easily ignored. “You told her what happened?” He asked while stuffing the vape in his brother's hand.

“I did, but she said she needed time to process it,” Stack grumbled.

“And you're upset that she didn't text you yet? She specified that she needed time, you gotta try and relax, cuz.” Sammie said, Stack reached his arm out to wave the cart in his face. He pushed it away and shook his head, “No, I can't be high right now, I'm seeing Pearline later.”

“The fuck that's supposed to mean?” Smoke asked, usually stuff didn't fly out of his mouth but it was rare for Sammie to say no to a hit. He wasn't annoyed by it but genuinely surprised. He made him wait ‘til he was 18 to even have some from him at all, even though he knew he snuck around on his own. “Pearline don’t like it?”

“No man, it ain't like that, I just wanna be sober tonight,” Sammie said shyly, and Stack’s mouth hung open in shock when he understood what he meant.

“Oh shit!” Stack adjusted the cap on his head as he exclaimed, before rushing over to him and shaking his cousin by the shoulders. “You getting some!”

Sammie swatted his hands away, “Maybe, I just gotta stay sharp-” he paused when the door opened, everyone looked at the hinge, softly squeaking, and the keys jiggling out of the lock.

The world stopped for Annie’s entry; she was holding a brown paper bag. Surprisingly, only one, and she wore a short bright blue dress with black heels. She took a whiff of the air and hummed before locking the door behind her. “Hey y’all!” She said before walking towards her kitchen and going to the table.

She received greetings upon her return, but Elijah made his way behind her in a flash. He ignored the snickering from Elias. As he crossed into the kitchen and watched her unpack the stuff from her errand. She was holding lavender oil, and her hand lingered right near her chest. He couldn't help but stare at them both before his eyes went up to her face. She looked up just as he did.

“You ain't gotta stare at me like that, Elijah, you see me like this all the time,” Annie mumbled, already knowing what he was going to comment on.

“Stare like what?” He huffed, looking her up and down. Already feeling caught for doing something wrong, she always managed to do that to him.

“Me in a dress, god forbid I feel comfortable.” She said lightly, knowing he didn't ever see it that way, but he had an underlying issue with letting her show off her thick curves. He sputtered at her words, quick to deny it.

“No boo, that ain’t it.” He grunted, “You look good.” He put his hands on her hips. “Too good.”

“Here we go, Elijah, you are gonna have to work on this. I'm preparing for a whole parade, they invited me!” She intertwined her fingers with his, grabbed the cart, and then pushed his hands off of her. She gave him a small smile before taking a hit as she marched out of the kitchen. Smoke used that as a chance to watch her sway from the back and also recollect his emotions.

Mardi Gras was important to Annie, and he agreed to go because she finally found time to plan for the extravagant event. She had invited him, Stack, Mary, Sammie, and Pearline. Her Mississippian family, as she puts it. And he was open to seeing where she grew up; he loved every aspect of her. From her looks to the way she held her head, right.

Ever since he laid his eyes on her in their general English class freshman year in college, he knew she was the one.

As time went on, it was further set in stone, they balanced each other out perfectly. But despite that, they still faced problems; they were both jealous people. Elijah showed it with ease when it came to how people looked at her; he couldn't take it. Especially, when she shared the times she was sometimes ridiculed in her youth. But then, all of a sudden, others would act like she wasn't in a relationship when she was showing some skin.

It pissed him off. But in New Orleans, they were meant to be flashy, and he knew the people were going to be fawning over her. He took a deep breath and rubbed his temples, and slightly paced the kitchen before walking out to the living room. He saw that Annie was looking through her phone and addressing Sammie and Stack.

“Okay, so y'all checked off your packing lists?” Annie asked the group, her tone stern.

It was a couple of days before they got ready to hit the road. However, since she was from there and familiar with the chaotic next couple of weeks, she had to make sure everyone was prepared. She had been planning for this trip since last year, the only way they'd get the best hotel rooms and plan out their days accordingly. She couldn't afford to do anything last minute.

The room bustled with conversation and questions about the trip.

A few days passed in what seemed like a split second.

Stack and Mary made up just as quickly as they always did, which threw a lot of stress out the window. Yet that meant they had to be put in line every waking moment.

“But Annie, I wanna try some beignets or that gumbo stuff they got down here!” Stack yelled, even though he was walking right behind her, he had Mary close to his hip. They were the light of the party, but they were naturally always up for adventure. Opposed to how Annie and Smoke were, ones to stick to the plan.

“No, we gotta check in first, I got us rooms.” She said firmly, and Smoke nodded along as he rolled two suitcases. Annie had only her purse and phone to read over their hotel details while they moved closer towards it on foot. She made sure everything was close to her body.

“You better listen to her, Stack, we in a new place.” Smoke grumbled, not tolerating any disagreement from him.

“Oh, come on, it's still early! We are right near one too, according to Google anyway…” Mary tried to convince, and she reached the phone out towards Annie from behind.

“Mary, keep that phone close,” She pushed the phone towards the lighter woman, “Best practice now before we go to a parade. And when the time comes, I'll take y'all to the best places for such things, okay?”

Mary sighed and just decided to put her phone away. There was a short period of silence as they approached the hotel before Stack ruined it.

“I'm so hungry…” He complained, he gripped the suitcases he had as if they were keeping him upright.

The eldest twin’s eye twitched, “Boy shut your ass up, the hotel is right fucking there, get a snack there!”

“I'm so hungry I could eat a beig-”

“Utter that shit and imma make sure you eat one right up your ass.” Elijah glared back at his brother, and he only earned a devious chuckle. Great, he was doing this on purpose, and he was just getting on his nerves at this point. Falling right into his younger brother's trap as always.

“This trip is gonna be a hoot…” Pearline muttered at Sammie, the two of them were close behind, watching the interactions. The preacher's son couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle.

“Sure is,” Sammie confirmed.

Annie led them inside and went to the desk, checked them in, she motioned for everyone to follow her. It felt like a school trip; she even walked backwards and made sure all of them were paying attention before turning back to make it to the elevator.

“We are all on floor 3. Sammie and Pearline, y'all get room 2, Stack and Mary, y'all get room 5, and Smoke and I get room 9. Get comfortable, but in 2 hours we gotta go shopping. Prepare for the events starting tomorrow. I suggest a nap.” She announced as they handed each of them their key cards.

“Yes, ma’am.” Everyone said in unison.

They all split their respective ways. Annie was the one with the key card for her and Smoke’s room. She opened it and was in complete awe at the space. It had simple colors like white for the carpet, beige walls, and the furniture was set to match. She went straight to the tan couch and felt the material, “Oh nice… this is better than mine.” She muttered.

Elijah didn't agree with that, but he didn't see anything wrong with the hotel either. “You bugging.”

And that was all he said before closing the door; he swiftly locked it and continued to tow the suitcases. He glanced at the kitchen, he walked further towards the bedroom, and he squinted at the dressers and the bed as he put their suitcases against the wall.

The sun was blazing even through the curtains, so he decided to just go ahead and open them and look at the bustling city underneath them. He heard his girl walk in, and she stood right beside him, taking in the sight herself.

“How are you feeling, baby?” She cooed before kissing him on the cheek while she let her hand rub along his back, she could feel some slight nerves, but didn't wanna assume why.

He let out a deep breath, leaning into her side from the touch. The initial stress of making it to her city left him. “Fine.” He muttered.

He had been to major cities before, but NOLA held more pressure for him. This was her hometown, her family and friends from before she went to college were much closer. She spent so much money and effort to even plan the trip, and was going to keep doing so until they left. He only wanted to do good by her, not mess anything up, and keep everyone in check.

She knew that he felt obligated to make sure her trip went well. She needed him to relax, let some of the pressure fall on her shoulders as well. “You all tense, baby.” She put both of her hands on his shoulders and gave him a slight massage. He let out a soft grunt in reply. “Let's take a nap, hm?”

He couldn't sleep that easily with so much going on around him, and he looked over warily. When he looked at her brown eyes, they managed to dim the harsh sun that was beating down. His own heart felt heavy in his chest; he would do anything for her. He grabbed her hips and backed her up into the bed. he leaned forward and pulled her into a kiss as he pinned her against it. She groaned and gripped his shoulders tightly.

He gave her a chance to breathe and reached down to lift her onto the bed by her thighs. She let her back fall on the comforter, “Elijah!” She giggled, the sound making his body match the heat of the sun.

“You so cute.” He muttered, before letting her go and going to the window and shutting the curtain.

She always adored how transparent he was with her; she bit her lip as he now towered over her at the side of the bed.

“Not used to a nigga calling me cute.” She said with a big smile on her face.

He took off his pants, then his shirt, he slipped into the bed beside her. His hands grazed along her t-shirt and pants, soon just resting on her hips.

“I ain't just a nigga.” He spoke into her ear.

He started to lightly kiss her neck and pull her closer. He noted how she became more limp against him, and her breathing slowed down; she was on the edge of sleep.

“Mhm…” She agreed as she closed her eyes. “You my nigga, all mine.’

“All yours.” He said in a heartbeat.

She fell asleep soon after, and despite his fight to stay awake and keep an eye on her, he passed out himself.

Taglist: @boonoonoonus @sunshinerepublic @coolfoodrunworld-blog @bigjh (lemme know if you wanna be added!)

#sinners #smoke x annie #annie sinners #smoke moore #mardi gras #fanfic #writing

195 notes · View notes