#i'm cheating so hard with those

[take-ya-to-the-ghey-bar]

just because my brain is a lil mushy for writing-- and the mood to do this struck me-- imma piggy back off some earlier chatter with Jackie ( @akumanoken ) on that "list of voices that 'do things™'" just because--

Disclaimer before i start: For the VA entries here, reference points are going to be given via the characters i know them best as/who's performance best fits the sprit of this list-- These are also in no real order, mainly just whatever order i thought of names first lol

Morikawa Toshiyuki

{as Tsukinami Carla - Diabolik Lovers}

Okay so, Carla is slightly an outlier in this group-- seeing as I've never had the chance to play any of the game series he's from (and may not ever be able to, unless i find finished English patches and try to fuck around with that route--) But regardless of that, i've heard his voice via some videos online in the past-- and My God-- this man could end me. (and i should i get to play any game routes featuring him, imma probably die on the spot--)

Sakurai Takahiro

{as Mukami Ruki - Diabolik Lovers}

Again, i doubt i'll ever be able to play his routes in game, but-- i do believe at one point i watched the anime adaptation that was made for More Blood, and even if it was a train wreck (like the rest of the anime for this series lol) i can at least recall enjoying Ruki's VA out of all that mess XD {also, bonus mention for one of his characters songs here, as i just now heard this one today-- and rather enjoyed it u w u}

Daisuke Ono / J. Michael Tatum

{as Sebastian Michaelis - Kuroshitsuji}

I-- don't really have much to say on this point lol, aside from the fact that these men doing their voices for Sebastian 100% fit the spirit of this list XD (i'm also skipping giving a link here, because i'm sure anyone reading can go find an example of both VAs in this role very easily lol)

Morita Masakazu

{as Yanagi Aiji - Collar x Malice}

Yanagi sits in kind of an odd space honestly lol-- because on the one hand, i enjoy just listening to him-- thanks to "older brother/caring dad" sorta vibe he gives me... but at the same time, i can't deny that certain voice dips he does-- they do hit a lil different. {for a better show case of what i mean, check out this vid of his "interview" via the voice recorder extra-- tho i sadly couldn't find one with the eng sub}

Kimura Ryouhei

{as Shiraishi Kageyuki - Collar x Malice}

hhhh-- Shiraishi, my boi... i love this man-- and like, his voice wins a spot here because, much like with Micchan-- i'd lowkey die if i ended up as a target of the teasing he enjoys doing. {and the bonus voice recorder section for him as well--}

Suwabe Jun'ichi

{as Abraham Van Helsing - Code: Realize}

Van somewhat falls in line with Yanagi, as i find his voice rather soothing to listen to... and i admit, my frame of reference for them both is a little fuzzy--thanks to not having played either game for a while... But-- i do remember an extra story from the first C:R game, which gives us all sleepy voice Van, and just-- that one lowkey ended me.

Hirakawa Daisuke

{as Saint-Germain - Code: Realize}

{& Itsuki Mito - Secret xxx / Therapy Game}

listen-- just... listen-- Hirakawa earns his place here because as both bois, i could listen to this man talk for ages-- (much like the mentions below--) But-- thanks to certain scenes from the Secret xxx CD... i can not unhear this man doing spicy audio-- and that fact is forever going to end me. (and Itsuki doesn't get an example link, simply because i don't think i've got anything timmed from the CD he mainly features in--)

{Honorable mentions} This section is for voices that I adore listening to, but, they don't quite fall into the same category as the above list-- More so just that type of mood where it's the "i could listen to you talk for ages" sort of vibe lol

Hirakawa Daisuke's performance as Laito Sakamaki {Diabolik Lovers}

Taniyama Kishou performance as Ikki {Amnesia VN Series}

[post-futurism]

My pet peeve is when people name drop in front of me and expect me to know who they're talking about as if I know everyone and every fact that they know when really they just come off as doing weird flexes about their life that actually adds nothing to what we're talking about.

[imunbreakabledude]

wild how addicted i am to nuzlocking now lol i expect this period will abruptly end at some point in the future but i was like "lemme just finish inclement emerald so I can drop this fixation and do other things" ... then promptly started renegade platinum instead of doin anything else.

sidenote after radical red (and to a lesser extent, inclement emerald), all other games feel like torture for nuzlocking. it's absurd how much time proper level grinding takes without infinite rare candies/auto cap function. like there are tons of other great QOL features i got spoiled by in those roms (especially radred) and I know renegade platinum is a good bit older so it makes sense that it's different. but i'm like i surely hope everyone who makes romhacks now just makes at least an optional setting for infinite candies and infinite repels at the bare minimum. those features alone make the game feel so much better.

[sadiesdoll]

sevika with a breeding kink. ♡

drunk!sevika x reader. | just sevika wanting to cum inside you. (mdni ♡)

sevika with a breeding kink. ♡ | 2 |

contains: breeding kink, praise kink, size kink, strength kink (kinda), possessive language, alcohol use (both parties intoxicated but consenting), & dry humping.

a/n: this was heavily inspired by this fic so please check out their original work cus it’s perfect

Enjoy ♡

You're giggling as you shut the door behind Silco and Vander, both of them high-fiving and stumbling toward their Uber like gremlins on a sugar rush.

"Text me when you get home!" you yell after them, already kicking off your shoes.

The apartment's a mess—beer bottles, takeout containers, someone left a single sock on the windowsill (???). You start gathering stuff in your arms with that tipsy buzz still in your veins, swaying a little with each step.

You make your way toward the living room to check on Sevika but stop in your tracks when you see her sprawled flat on the carpet, one leg bent awkwardly and an arm slung over her face like she's shielding herself from the world.

She groans, "Those fuckin' assholes cheated."

You try not to laugh. "Was this Vander or Silco?"

"Both." She slurs. "Fuck 'em."

You tiptoe closer, hands on your hips. "I warned you not to go shot-for-shot with literal tank-sized men! Well.. except silco.”

Sevika grumbles again, her voice deep and raspy, like gravel soaked in whiskey. She shifts slightly but doesn't open her eyes.

You straddle her hips carefully, wobbly from the alcohol, planting yourself right on top of her.

"Maybe next time you'll listen to me."

Her arm twitches. She finally cracks one eye open and peers at you. Her gaze drops low.

Her eyes darken.

You're sitting right on her lap, all soft and warm. You’re small compared to her.

She swallows thickly. Her thigh tenses under your ass. You can feel her reacting to you, and you smirk.

"Are you dying?" you tease, pressing your palms to her chest.

"Not yet," she mumbles, but her fingers twitch against the carpet. You bounce a little, teasing, light—just enough to make her groan through her teeth.

"Jesus," she growls. Her hands lift and land heavy on your hips. "You tryna fucking kill me?"

You grin, breathless. "I'm just keeping the winner company."

"I didn't win." She says, looking down at your thighs while rubbing circles on them with her thumb.

"You won me," you shrug dramatically.

And something snaps in her.

Her eyes flick up to yours, full of heat and frustration and some deep, stormy emotion you can't quite name. She shifts under you again, and it's not subtle.

You tilt your head, watching her eyes flutter between your face and your thighs like she's trying to decide where to die. She's flushed now—cheeks warm, chest rising and falling heavier with every second.

You smooth your hands over her stomach, up her ribs, watching the way her breath catches beneath your fingers. "You're really that fucked up, huh?"

"Mhmm," she mumbles, her grip on your hips tightening as you shift again, just slightly. You're barely moving, but it's enough to make her grunt softly—like the restraint is physically painful.

"I could move," you say softly, leaning forward just enough for your chest to brush hers. "Get off. Let you rest."

Her hands clamp down hard. "Don't." It's low. Barely a growl. Almost a plea.

You hum, dragging your fingers up into her hair, letting her body feel the weight of yours. "You're never this needy, babe..."

Her eyes flick up to yours again, this time hazier, darker. "M not needy."

"You are," you whisper, brushing your nose along her jaw. "Look at you. Clingy."

"I'm drunk," she mutters, as if that's a defense.

You giggle softly. "So you admit you need me?"

Her silence is loud.

Your voice dips, teasing, sultry. "What's got you all soft for me, huh?”

She exhales sharply through her nose—half-laugh, half-groan. Then her hand lifts, palm cupping the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair like she's grounding herself. Her thumb brushes your skin softly.

There's a tension in her body, but it's not sharp-it's aching.

She's quiet for a beat. Then:

"You don't get it."

You blink. "What?"

Her grip tightens, her voice barely above a whisper. "You don't get how fuckin' lucky I feel just having you like this."

Your breath hitches. And then, that's when it happens—her voice going gravelly, slurred and wrecked:

 "I wanna fuckin' put a baby in you."

You freeze. "...Huh?"

"I wanna-" she exhales harshly, like the words are scraped from her throat. "Wanna fill you up. Wanna make you all pretty and swollen. Fuckin' mine."

You open your mouth but no sound comes out.

Her hands slide rough and slow over your waist, your belly, your hips—like she's mapping it all out. Like she's already claiming it.

"You're so warm," she murmurs, breathless.

"So soft. I can feel your pussy through these little shorts, baby—fuck—“

Her voice breaks into a groan as she grinds up once, slow and heavy beneath you, and you feel allof her.

"I don't want stupid fuckin' plastic. I don't want fingers. I want you raw. I wanna stretch you out with my cock and keep you so fuckin’ full."

You shudder. "Sevika-"

"I want it to leak out of you for hours," she slurs, hips twitching again. "Want you to be messy with me. Want you to smell like it. Like mine."

Your breath stutters, thighs clenching. She feels it.

"Ohhh, fuck," she hisses. "That—do that again."

You try to say something smart. Anything.

But your brain is gone.

Her grip on your hips gets bruising. She's panting. Desperate.

"I'd be so fucking good to you," she growls.

"Rub your feet, your back, kiss that belly every night—l'd take care of everything, just let me—fuck—just let me cum inside you."

Her pupils are blown, her mouth parted in that open-mouthed, wrecked kind of awe like you're something divine. She looks up at you like she's praying. Worshipping.

"You'd look so fuckin' good full. Dripping. Cryin' because l'm too big and deep but beggin' me not to stop."

You gasp, nails digging into her shoulders.

She grins—sharp, unhinged.

"Say yes," she pants, pulling you down so her mouth brushes your ear. "Say yes and I'll do it right now—slow, deep—'til you're milking me for everything I got."

You grab her face to still her, both of you panting, burning up from the inside out. She looks feral. Her jaw clenches like she's holding back from flipping you over and doing it now. And then-

Click.

You both freeze.

The front door creaks open.

In walks Jinx, holding a grocery bag and a half-eaten lollipop, jaw instantly dropping.

Sevika, still fully seated with you straddling her, looks up, red-eyed, lip bitten, her arms wrapped tight around your waist.

Jinx blinks.

“…You good?"

part 2 is out now ♡

criticism and ideas are heavily appreciated (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

thank you for reading! ♡

[roturo]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ OH! SO YOU'RE INTO OLDER MEN?

˚₊·➳❥ JJK MEN SHOWING YOU HOW A REAL MEN FUCKS! satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro ✧˚ · .

tags: afab!reader, reader is mentioned as a female, use of nicknames (baby, princess, doll, slut, whore), cheating, degradation, caught cheating, getting caught, unprotected sex, blowjob, pussy slapping, mating press, breeding, age-gaps, virginity loss [...] rbs are appreciated!

satoru gojo (Daddy’s girl)

well, that’s the word he used for the little girl you're babysitting right now. he’s a great dad and husband. there’s just this tiny whiny little thing he couldn’t do right– and that’s loving his wife as he should.

like– it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilty, it’s just… well, you looked really cute in that mini dress, he and his wife have been fighting lately anddd– he could tell his daughter liked you more than her fatality of mother she has these days. she even called you mommy by accident once! and that was the last water drop gojo needed for the glass to break.

“Oh- I bet you’d love to be full of me right now.” His thrusts became messier each time he pounded on you, “Mhh, fill you up ‘n make me a daddy again– you’d like that princess?” you couldn’t even talk anymore with how good he’s making you feel– he had your legs pressed on the bed thanks to his arms, almost bending you in half, he was making sure that mating press works.

“Ffffuckk- You feel s’good baby” He felt your walls clenching again, no matter how many times he made you come, he’s making sure you’re coming again after he does. A not ending cycle for him. “Such a slut for me hm? Coming all nice and pretty to this house just to be ruined at night–” his words made you feel dirty, but the euphoria of it was stronger, “such” slap, “a nasty” slap, “slut” slap– “and all f’me” with those last thrusts your body couldn’t take it anymore, spasming and trembling while your poor hole was filled up again. gojo’s wife didn’t even bothered to break your little encounter, she suspected it long time ago.

all that was left was a wide grinning gojo satoru and some divorce papers.

suguru geto (Daddy’s best-friend)

you didn’t intend this to happen… you always knew your dad’s best-friend was hot. he’s geto, ‘cmon. he brings a new girl every weekend whispering in your dad’s ear swearing she’s the one this time.

he saw you grow up, turn into this beautiful and strong woman. so how he couldn’t love you? you were like a doll for him, so beautiful and radiant in every way. a porcelain doll he needed to protect, he couldn’t lose you to any dangerous or stupid man, he swears he would beat the shit out of the guy who breaks your heart first.

“Shhiiiitt– Heh– I can tell how tight your pussy is princess–” His cock was stretching the living shit out of you, touching places never in a thousand years you could imagine you would feel. “what d’ya think daddy would say if he saw his little girl being fucked by his best-friend huh?” your brain was a fuzzy mess, you couldn’t make coherent words to say, and just feel how good geto is making you feel. you couldn’t remember how many times he had made you cum with his toungue and he’s just starting to fuck your pussy.

“ ‘m such a lucky guy if i'm the first you’re giving this pussy to, don’t ya think so doll? marking it as mine, baby I swear you’ll need no man to ever fuck this pussy of yours again– shit I won’t need another woman for myself, you’re the one baby” those words filled your heart of a tingly feeling, making more butterflies roam around your tummy, touching yourself you could sense geto’s cock coming and leaving with every thrust, your brain full of air and in need of more of his cock.

he couldn’t resist himself anymore when he was next to you, his cock would get hard the minute he enters your house, and thankfully he has a pretty doll to release himself with.

kento nanami (Big Boss)

Nanami thinks he’s a good and mature guy– At least for his wife and kids… He has this aura of a serious and mature guy but inside every time he’s just this close to breaking it, just to say what he really thinks or feels.

the first time he saw you at work with your tiny skirts and tight blouses he didn’t mind any type of attention to it, you were another cute worker, that’s all. One of another– he can think other women are pretty too right? maybe even prettier than his wife… and nicer, and cuter, and more homely feeling to be a mom. but he wouldn't do anything he would later regret right?...

“You’re s’pretty baby, such a dirty whore for my cock mhm?” he had you pounding from behind, his desk becoming even messier than it was before, one of his hands keeping you laid down on the desk arching your back like if he’s trying to break it– a sudden ringing brought you back from your unconsciousness of nanami’s cock– he answered the call, not a single sing of him trying to stop thrusting into you.

“Yeah?” his voice was out of breath, almost sounding like a sigh when he answered the call, “Where am I? Huh– I’m at the office r-right now…?” he wasn’t even sure if he could keep this act, losing himself more in the feeling of your pussy clenching on his cock– “Oh yeah- I’m okay, uhh- the kids? yyeah, yeah, they’re with my mom right now–” the feeling of keeping up a call with his wife while fucking you made his cock twitch inside of you, feeling like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time. it was no surprise for him that his wife was cheating, but he wanted to keep it like that for the sanity of his kids. 

“Quit the act Kento– I know you’re fucking somebody else right now. See ya at home.”

toji fushiguro (Step-Daddy)

you hated when your mother started dating new guys. they just kept breaking her heart– but you just stopped telling her that it's okay to live without a partner, that she had you by her side, but well… this new man was something else i guess and you didn’t say anything for the sake of your own good mother.

you didn’t like him, but for the sake of your mother you pretended like you do– and let’s be honest, toji doesn’t like children, so when he first met you he wasn’t as social as others… your mom was just too good to simply let go– but the way you moved, talked, dressed caught his attention, and as time passes and he spends more time with your mom– he's no longer drawn to your house just to see your mother, but to see you. 

“Sshhiit- You’re making me feel s’good baby” the lack of air was making you feel giddy, but the way his cock twitched inside your mouth made your core get even wetter. “C’mon baby, ride my shoe,” you wasted no time before your hips started moving, trying to gain some friction and release that tingly feeling coming from your core. 

“D’ya think your mother would like to see her daughter being full of his step-daddy’s cum?” he gets one of his arms behind himself trying to gain some support while his other free hand caresses your cheeks while you continue sucking– this same hand moves out your head and frees his cock out of your mouth, a small strand of saliva connecting your mouth with it–

“Fuck– guess i choose the wrong out of you two”

[sobbingscripter]

𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨🌼wc. 681🌼୧₊˚⑅⋆𓈒

"Are you ever gonna offer to get on top?"

Mark's brows bunch into a scowl, his elbows braced on either side of your head.

The late afternoon sunlight pours in through your window, streaks of golden light dance over your bare flesh, his carved hips pressed firmly against yours. His brain fuzzy with how your fingers feel, tangled in the raven hair at the nape of his neck and you scoff, letting out a huffed breath.

"Fuck no."

"Dude, I literally just came from space. I was on a whole different planet for like, two months."

"Yes, and?" You huff. "You literally ghosted me for two months, came back with a purple baby."

Mark tucks his face into the curve of your neck, his chest flush against yours, and he shifts, muscles shifting beneath his flesh as he wraps his arms around you, calloused fingertips curling around your waist and digging into the softness of your body.

His Thraxan garb tossed messily onto your deskchair, your clothes scattered across your room and your panties ripped to literal shreds.

"For the last time: he's not mine." Mark groans into your neck.

"He has your eyes." You argue.

"Because he's my brother." He deadpans. "Do you really think I'd cheat on you? Like, do you actually think that?"

And you purse your kiss-swollen lips, your nails tracing patterns over his sinewy back, your legs shifting and your thighs wrapping snugly around his hips.

"With an alien? Definitely. You popped a boner during Fifth Element."

And he whines. "She was an opera singer. It was a totally different thing. Unrelated to the alien thing."

Mark lifts his head, shifting until he's resting his chin on your sternum, peering up at you with those big brown eyes, lashes fluttering and you watch the honeyed sunrays form a bronze halo on the crown of his tousled hair.

He looks at you like you're his whole world and it makes you weak.

'Fuck.' You suck your teeth.

"Please, baby." Mark sighs, pressing a kiss against the valley between your breasts, trailing his lips along your chest in those sweet, shy pecks. "I'll do that thing—"

"Oh my God, you big baby. Just flip us over." You grunt, and Mark switches your positions with ease, lips curled into a dorky grin as he watches you, his gaze dropping to where you're seated so prettily on his hips, your knees dimpling your mattress and your sheets pooled around your hips.

"Score." He whispers under his breath, eyes nearly rolling back in his head when he feels your hips lift, your hands braced on his broad chest.

And his phone rings.

And his eyes shoot open, and he stares up at you, brows curling in frustration.

"No—no, no— don't ans—"

"It's Mr Cecil." You hum softly, the device grasped between your fingers and you listen attentively.

"He says he needs to see you."

Mark's expression crumples.

"Oh my God," His voice cracks and he lets his head fall back against the pillow, "I hate these fucking people."

And he sits up, his tongue brushing across his lower lip as he stares at you. Soft, pliable and still with his leaky cock buried in you, and he sighs.

"When I get back," Mark's fingers dig into your cheeks, forcing your lips into a puckering pout, "you're on top."

And you snort.

"Wouldn't count on it, pookie." Your lips press a sweet peck against his, before you lift yourself up, and Mark winces as the cold air hits his still wet and still hard cock.

"If you don't, I will, actually crash out." Mark states. "Viltrumite style."

"And the government can't stop me." His dimples deepen.

"Because as you know, I'm—"

"Indestructible." You interrupt. "We get it."

"It's literally right there! The word is right— you know, I'm done. You're on top when I get back." Mark grumbles, already rifling through your closet for something to wear before settling on your robe.

"I'll be asl—"

"Ahhhh," He interrupts, effectively cutting you off, "I don't care. You're on top."

T🌼A🌼G🌼L🌼I🌼S🌼T

@lucky-beheaded ; @queen-of-gotham ; @coldvirginbitch ; @wittyjasontodd ; @a-n-a-n-a1 ; @dearlyya ; @broicouldjustbuyyousomekombucha ; @jasontoddswhitestreak ; @daydreams-and-peace ; @misstyy12 ; @fruticake ; @httpstes ; @waterflowersblog ; @glowinthedarkjellyfish ; @vm4879bb-blog ; @monaekelis ; @radlovesfics ; @allycat4458 ; @bigbodycity ; @feral010 ; @anesthesia-4rizzle ; @princesstrunkz ; @blackfox774 ; @sh1d0uryus31 ; @your-lovely-rose26 ; @slugstarzz ; @ripcolel0l ; @strawbiemilk420 ; @verysynical ; @kikiiguess ; @missam ; @luvvfromme ; @luvvcharxo ; @alma-ru3 ; @mxvoid26 ; @urfriendlyfrog ; @the-good-kooshe ; @troublesome-nara ; @secretaccountlol ; @syubseokie; @atanukileaf ; @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere ; @i-love-frensh-fries ; @lov3vivian ; @boyofroyo1 ; @tamaranblaze ; @supersecretxreadersideblog ; @etphonehome0623 ; @markgraysonlover ; @icanmeltanigloo ; @itzmeme ; @buckturd

[hyckstarz]

hi ! can I request mean dom!mark lee with crybaby!reader ?? thankyou so so much <3

i had to take a breather every five seconds of writing this... this request unlocked something in me

fxck your ex! | l.mk

pairing. mean dom!mark lee x afab crybaby!reader

word count. 2.4k

genre. smut

synopsis. mark was sick of it. sick of hearing her go on and on about her boyfriend whose cheating was a sign their short relationship was being thrown to the dogs. he couldn't count the number of times she'd show up at his door in the late hours of the night, crying about a man he could give a damn about. Fuck being a best friend, and fuck your boyfriend as I make his ass your ex.

warnings. 18+ minors do not interact, dubcon! oral (m. and f. receiving), use of pet name/praise (baby, good girl, sweetheart, princess), degrading language (whore, slut), choking, rough handling, mention of anal play/licking, cheating, best friends. At this rate, everything is here 💀

A/N: this is probably the smuttiest fic I've written so far, but God was this fun to write. Mean Mark >>>>

Mark hated it. Hated how she went on and on about that fucking asshole. His sunken eye bags weighed heavy under his eyes as he bore holes into the flower pot, her sobs extra loud in his ears from the grogginess of being pulled out of his comfortable slumber. He then glanced at his phone. 3 AM. She came over to his place at ass o'clock in the morning to rant about her boyfriend, Jaehyun, again. His fingers and toes combined weren't enough to count the number of times she'd done this in the past three months.

"I do so much for him and he still goes out to meet that bitch!" She cries into her hands, "Now he's at that party doing God knows what with her."

Mark rubs his temples in frustration. He really tries. Really tries to be a good best friend for her, always lending an ear and shoulder, maybe he'd even consider chopping off those limbs to give to her in hopes of finally getting a good nights rest. But how much did he need to give away when she still goes crawling back to a cheater who couldn't give a damn.

He squints at her, trying to focus his blurry vision at her trembling form. His jaw hardens. Just a few months ago, he'd be a worried, nervous wreck at seeing her cry. Though now, he felt nothing but annoyance, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he mocked her stupidity in his head. But God was it hard to separate whether the frustration was at her dumping her problems on him, or at how sexually frustrated she made him. He couldn't help but sneak a glance at the tantalising strip of her thighs in those shorts, even as his jaw was clenched tight.

"I really love him... I love him so much, why can't he see that?" She choked out another sob, tears staining her skin.

Mark had reached a boiling point. It's like something that held his sanity and kindness snapped. Any ounce of respect he had for her had shattered, replaced by an all-consuming jealous rage.

His hand grabs at her wrist, tearing the palm that covered her face away, "What did you say?" His voice was quiet yet stern, husky from the lack of sleep.

She sniffled, meeting his hard gaze which made her breath catch in her throat, "I... love him."

Her soft eyes did nothing to calm the fire that raged in his chest. How could a sweet girl like her fall in love with that cheating, fucking asshole in a span of three months? Especially when Mark had always been there for her, through thick and thin, even now when she pulled him out of his sleep, selfishly, to talk about her own problems. He felt pathetic. In a way, he was just as pathetic as she was.

Mark sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening on her arm which causes her to wince as he leaves red prints along her smooth skin, "M-Mark, you're hurting me-"

"Shut the fuck up," he snapped, yanking her towards him, "I'm tired of your fucking bullshit. If he's such an asshole, break up with him!"

Y/N stumbles over her words, lips opening and closing like a clueless fish at Mark's uncharacteristic outburst, "I- I can't."

Mark scoffs, pushing her back onto the couch as he clamoured on top of her, gripping at her plush thighs that seemed to mold to his touch as she scrambled in surprise, "Why can't you? Does he blackmail you? Did he save your life and you feel like you owe him? What bullshit excuse will you give me this fucking time?"

She's breathing heavily, her tears now dried on her skin as she keeps her eyes on him, "Mark... what are you doing?"

He couldn't play nice when she looked so pretty like this. Mascara running down her pink cheeks, lashes wet and eyes soft as her glossy lips puckered in confusion.

Mark chuckles in disbelief, shaking his head, "Why don't we give that son of a bitch a taste of his own medicine? Maybe then you'd shut those pretty little lips up about another man I could give less of a shit about."

She gasps, pushing at his chest, "W-what? You're crazy!"

Mark laughs, gently threading his fingers through her long hair, "We're both crazy, baby. At least I have a thing called pride."

Y/N swallows thickly, peering up at him like a deer caught in headlights. Mark's fingers brush under the hem of her shorts, his nose nudging the crook of her neck, "Maybe I could fuck a little thing like pride into you... give you another thing to cry about."

In a second, he pins her wrists above her head, trapping her hips between his knees as he pulls back to meet her nervous gaze. She bites her lip, contemplating. She can't believe she's actually considering what her best friend was offering. She thinks back to her earlier argument with Jaehyun and, fuck, would it feel good to get back at him for once.

Even just thinking about her boyfriend has a fresh set of tears glazing over her eyes, "I-"

Mark's voice cuts through hers, "Don't expect me to play nice though, I've been a carpet you've walked all over long enough," he smirks cockily at her hesitation, leaning in to whisper hoarsely in her ear, "Think about it, baby... Think about your precious boyfriend pounding into that slutty chick of his. I mean... he clearly isn't fucking you right now. Couldn't blame him when you whine like a little bitch."

Y/N sobs harder, burying her damp cheeks into the crook of his neck, "O-okay! Just stop... stop talking about him."

Mark grips at her cheeks, forcing her mouth open as he looks down at her with mockery, "Don't wanna face reality, princess? Fine."

His lips meet hers, molding against her soft, tear-stained ones that remained parted from his tight grasp. Her muffled sounds died in his mouth, his tongue swiping at the seam of her lips as it swirled with hers. He could taste the saltiness of her tears mixed with the vanilla flavoured gloss. When he pulled back, she was breathless, eyes blown wide. He loved the way her swollen, slick lips looked — a pretty pink that matched her flushed cheeks.

"You're an asshole," she pouted, her voice a broken whine despite the way she unashamedly rubbed her thighs together.

"Seems like you have a thing for assholes, baby. Admit it, you want to be ruined like a little slut. Who knew the crybaby was so filthy?" Mark pressed his knee between her legs. It was rough and it mixed pleasure with pain that had her gasping.

Y/N let out a choked moan, head nestling back into the cushions as he dragged his knee up and down her clothed clit. She hated that she was enjoying this. She was no better than Jaehyun. Sure, she had thoughts about her attractive best friend before, but he was never really her type. Until now.

"I don't have a thing for assholes," she sent him a glare despite lying through her teeth, "And I'm not a slut."

Mark stares at her for a moment before he lets out an amused laugh, "You're cute, but you're also dead wrong, baby."

He tugs his sweats down, pulling out his throbbing dick as he swirls his tip over her lips, coating them with his precum to wear like lip gloss. She let's out a muffled whimper, eyes pleading. He only scoffs in response, "I'll show you how slutty you really are, and you'll take it like a good girl, won't you?"

Her pussy clenches around nothing at that and Mark wastes no time in lifting her head up from the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair. His other hand grabs her cheeks, forcing her mouth open as he stuffs his dick past her lips, stretching her out. She sobs again, fingers digging into his hips as she let's him manhandle her, rutting his dick into her mouth like a fleshlight.

Y/N's moans, whimpers and sobs get lost on his dick. But what really gets her off is how vocal Mark is. His groans and breathy gasps urges her to take more of him, gagging as his tip occasionally hits the back of her throat. Her eyes flick up to see him staring back at her through half-lidded eyes, fucking her into the couch. She'd never given head like this before - sprawled out underneath with her head in his hands to relinquish all control to him.

"Should take a photo of you like this," Mark's thumb tugs her chin up, "send it to that shit-faced ex of yours... let him see what he missed out on."

Mark pulls back and she whines at the loss of her mouth being filled up, "He's not my ex."

He snorts in response, "He will be once I'm done with you."

She swallows thickly, suddenly feeling nervous. Mark had always been the sweet, gentle and respectful best friend. Predictable and safe. But this was a side she never knew existed, especially as he was private about his sex life.

Mark flips her over, letting her chest press against the armrest of the couch. But her words cut through his thoughts, "I'm not breaking up with him, ever."

At that, Mark let's out a bitter laugh, and smacks her ass, hard. The sound is sharp and leaves a tingling sensation behind that causes her to wince, "You will."

At her no, he smacks her again, rubbing the sting with his kneading hands, "You're pathetic."

Without wasting anymore time, he'd tugs her shorts down. His fingers rub along her slit and, with his teeth, he bites at the waistband of her underwear, letting it pull down to her thighs. For years, he had been fantasising about his best friend, even beating himself up about it from the shame. But seeing her bare before him, has him swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing at the sight. His imagination could never do her justice, she was gorgeous.

Mark leans in, dragging his tongue over her asshole, circling and teasing the puckered flesh. He spits on it, watching it glisten obscenely, tilting his head as he kisses and nips at the soft flesh of her ass. She'd never felt so embarrassed, writhing under him. But the only thought that came to mind was how Jaehyun would never.

Mark's fingers probe at the entrance of her pussy, coating the slender digits with her slick before pushing inside; scissoring and curling his fingers inside of her. He groaned at how the tight, wet heat gripped him like a vice, pulsing around his fingers. His other hand tugged her hair back, leaning in to kiss her, licking into her mouth that has her moaning.

Mark nips at her bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood and make her wince. He licks at it, cooling the burn before he tugs her hair back harder, peppering sloppy kisses from her jaw down to her collarbone.

She rocks her hips back against his fingers, and Mark can't help but to smirk against her neck, "Desperate already?"

Maybe Mark was right, she didn't have pride and she was as slutty as they came. She nods eagerly, "Please, need you..."

Mark bit on her earlobe, whispering, "Gotta do better than that, sweetheart." His fingers stilled in her, hand pressed to her lower back to keep her from moving.

"I need you, Mark. Please," she begged.

But that wasnt enough, not even close, "Need me to what?"

Her lip quivered, feeling herself losing every inch of her sanity, "Need you to fuck me."

Mark stroked himself, his restraint was slowly slipping too, but he couldnt give her what she wanted just yet, "only if you promise to leave that son of a bitch," he spoke through gritted teeth.

Y/N bit on her bottom lip, pondering, "I will. I'll break up with him. So, please."

Mark scoffs. It didn't take long for her to give in, but he was grateful. Not wanting to waste another second, he pushes into her, hard and fast, not giving her time to adjust. She gasps out loud, clutching onto the armrest with desperation, "fuck! M-Mark-"

He ruts into her, blocking out her cries, "Like I said, you'll take what I give you like the good girl you are. Or do you prefer to be called a whore now that you're sleeping around?"

She whimpers, tears slipping down her cheeks, "Both... I wanna be called both."

Marks hands grab at her hips tightly, pulling her against him, "Knew you were nothing but a whore. Bet you were hoping for this... you were trying to piss me off by showing up at my place every night, huh?"

She shakes her head, clenching around him, "No! No, I wasn't."

His hand slithers under her, rubbing rough and quick circles on her clit, causing her to writhe beneath him, "You wanted me to fuck the outline of your body into my couch. Wanted someone who'd fuck you better than that asshole."

He pulls the length of his cock out of her before slamming back in. Her toes curl and she feels her body growing weaker, her release approaching. Her thoughts were cloudy, drool and tears staining her skin. Each thrust of his hips had her let out choked moans.

"No one is better for you than I am. Not Jaehyun, not even your own fingers. Just me. Only me," he growls, and she swears it was the sexiest sound that ever came out of any man.

"Y-yeah... only you... only you, Mark," she cried, arching her back against him.

"You're mine. All mine. Say it... say it for me, princess," his voice is suddenly soft and breathy. The gentleness returning, as if he really meant it.

Y/N nods, gasping, "I'm yours," she shuddered, her release washing over her as Mark never slowed his pace. She could feel him twitching as he helped her through her release, his own following as he pulled out and came all over her back.

She whined, "Wanted you to cum in me."

Mark chuckled, panting as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her lithe body into his chest, kissing down her neck and shoulder, "Next time, pretty. I'll save that for when you block that bastards number and make you mine for real."

(I promise my next post will be a Haechan fic)

© hyckstarz

[haarute]

remembering how i not only filled my school folders with drawings, but also i drew elaborate things on my desk all the time out of boredom, and i actually met the girl who went to the afternoon shift in the same classroom and spot i sat at during that year as she was a cosplayer i briefly met for being in the local anime con scene.

i once tried to talk to her to maybe make friends with her, but she was very dismissive of me, and at a later date she just left me a message on our desk telling me to stop drawing stupid things and erased most of it, at which point i just felt really bad and never bothered or saw her again.

[hyuckiefluff]

call out my name | lee jeno

pairing: stepbrother! lee jeno x fem reader genre + wc: smut / enemies to lovers-ish | 17k+ summary: your stepbrother suddenly starts acting a bit different after fixing your laptop, and you wonder if it has anything to do with the endless posts you’ve made about wanting him to fuck you brainless. content warning: stepcest, voyeurism, masturbation, cheating, smoking and brief mentions of drug use, unprotected sex, hard dom jeno, oral (fem receiving), face riding weee, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, jeno is a bit mean (but like in a hot way), lmk if i missed any! a/n: haven’t written for jeno in soooo long and my body needed it. also, beatbox era jeno still has me in a chokehold, so i imagined him looking exactly like that while writing this. that mullet-undercut combo was LETHAL i need him to reheat his own nachos expeditiously. also the lowercase is back too, i'm still trying to figure out if i like this more lol ps: if u catch the twilight reference you’ll get a kiss from me :p

jeno stomped into your room, hands shoved deep into his hoodie pocket, jaw tight with irritation. your voice still echoed in his head.

‘fix my laptop and i won’t tell your dad you’ve been skipping almost every class since the semester started.’

fix it? he wasn’t a damn IT guy. and how the hell did you even know he’d been skipping? what were you, a stalker?

seriously, it wasn’t his fault you couldn’t take care of your stuff. and why couldn’t you just take the damn thing to a repair shop?

“i need it for college work,’ you’d said.

yeah, right. like he didn’t hear you at night. his room was right next to yours, and those walls were way too thin. not only were you loud, but you also needed headphones, because he could hear exactly what kind of videos you watched.

he exhaled sharply through his nose, stepping up to your desk. the laptop sat there, taunting him in its sickly sweet pink case covered in hello kitty stickers.

“god, what a child,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face before plopping onto your chair. the cushion was still warm from you sitting there earlier. he flipped the laptop open, and a password prompt appeared.

he tried your birthday first. denied.

with a sigh, he scanned your desk. you were forgetful, he was sure you had the password written somewhere. his eyes landed on a cluster of polaroids, mostly of you and your boyfriend. he grabbed one and flipped it over. sure enough, there was a scribbled note in your messy handwriting.

‘happy anniversary, my baby ❤️’ and a date.

jeno scoffed but typed it in anyway. the screen unlocked with a soft chime.

the moment your desktop loaded, he was met with a picture of you sprawled out on a beach towel, skin sun-kissed, in a tiny white bikini that barely covered anything. jeno swallowed.

several seconds passed before he snapped himself out of it, shaking his head and forcing his attention elsewhere.

your laptop was a disaster. it was clogged with files, random downloads, and so many pop-ups it was a miracle the thing still functioned. he clicked around, deleting error files and clearing out junk.

then a notification popped up from a browser window that was open in the background.

he opened the tab out of habit, not expecting anything interesting, but then the page loaded and he had to blink twice to make sure he was seeing right.

it was a blog called ‘horny antidotes.’

"what the hell is this?" he snorted.

he scrolled, thumb hovering before tapping on a section labeled confessions. a list of posts loaded, the oldest ones stretching back to the beginning of last year. against his better judgment, he clicked the most recent entries.

i tried it again tonight. used my fingers since the new toys i got don’t really feel good either. i think my boyfriend’s starting to suspect something. it’s kinda weird that i barely get wet when he touches me (╥_╥) we even try watching porn together, but it does nothing for me. we just scroll through hundreds of videos and i feel nothing, while he gets hard so easily. so i end up sucking him off.

jeno’s brows lifted. jesus.

i get more turned on looking at pictures of LJN. but i can’t touch myself to him… it feels wrong. so i gotta find an alternative. any tips? (>д<)

LJN?

his lips parted. those were initials. your boyfriend’s? no… his.

L. J. N.

lee jeno.

his pulse jumped. before he could think better of it, his fingers typed LJN into the blog’s search bar.

hundreds of posts popped up.

he let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

no fucking way.

today LJN helped me with my homework. he looked like he hated every second of it. it was hard to focus when he sat so close… his cologne makes me feel so… hot (/ω＼).

jeno dragged a hand down his face. he’s not imagining all this? right?

my boyfriend and i broke up again (kinda) (μ_μ). same reason as always… our sex life sucks. he thinks i’m not into him, but that’s not true. he tries… i just… anyway, LJN knocked on my door today. he was only wearing a towel. i almost dropped to my knees right there and then. how does someone get abs like that? god, those arms… veiny and strong… maybe i should call my boyfriend and try again…

a slow smirk stretched across jeno’s lips. so your boyfriend can’t get you off, but i make you wet that easily? he thought.

his gaze drifted to your bed. the sheets were a tangled mess, barely clinging to the mattress. did you write that post after touching yourself last night? thinking about him?

he exhaled through his nose, head shaking like he couldn’t believe it. but god, his stomach clenched at the thought of you squirming with his name in your head.

sure, he knew people found him attractive. girls threw themselves at him all the time. but you? who argued with him over stupid shit, called him an asshole just this morning while throwing a sock at his head?

you wanted him. wanted him so bad you spilled it online for strangers to read.

his gaze flicked back to the screen, to the words where you described his cologne driving you crazy.

he should’ve stopped reading but instead, he clicked on another post.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

the next morning, you woke up to find your laptop working perfectly. no note, no sarcastic comment scribbled on a post-it, nothing. just fixed.

weird.

you headed downstairs, fully expecting jeno to be in his usual morning mood, grumbling about chores, throwing half-hearted jabs just to rile you up. but when you found him on the couch, he was… quiet.

"hey," you said, grabbing a drink from the fridge. "so… thanks for fixing my laptop."

he barely glanced up, his gaze flickering over your bare legs for a heartbeat before settling back on his phone.

"yeah, no problem."

...that’s it?

you waited. no snark about your messy folders? no whining about how you owed him now?

your brows knit. "you okay?"

jeno stretched his legs, shorts riding up just enough to show more of his muscular thighs. "yeah, why wouldn’t i be?"

"i dunno," you said, eyeing him. "you’re acting weird."

he chuckled, head tilting as he shot you a lazy grin. "i’m always like this in the mornings. maybe you just don’t pay enough attention to me."

"trust me," you muttered, taking a sip from your drink, "i pay plenty of attention to you."

jeno’s lips twitched almost into a smirk.

then he hummed.

"yeah, i know."

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

the next few days, jeno turned it over in his mind—how to play this.

sure, the whole thing was entertaining, but you were still his stepsister. technically. your parents weren’t married, but they’d been together for about four years, and you’d been living under the same roof since last year.

not that you and jeno were close. you barely crossed paths, always out with friends or holed up in your room when you were home. plus, he found you immature. spoiled. maybe it was the three-year age gap, or maybe it was how quickly you’d settled in and made this place your own. his dad had asked him to be patient with you—“it’s a big change for her”—but if you were struggling, you hid it well.

especially with how you put on that perfect little act for your parents. sweet and responsible. as if you weren’t sneaking your boyfriend in through the window at night. or slipping out when you thought no one noticed. jeno noticed.

he just never cared enough to call you out. but the hypocrisy definitely grated on him. pretending to be miss goody-two-shoes when, by your own confession, you were getting railed by a guy who couldn’t even get you off?

the irony wasn’t lost on him. neither was the opportunity.

he could confront you. he’d definitely enjoy to watch you squirm, see that spark of defiance flicker into panic. tempting.

but maybe… maybe he’d keep this to himself a little longer.

drag it out and see just how much fun he could have before you caught on.

the perfect opportunity presented itself only a few days later when your parents announced their trip to italy for valentine’s day. conveniently their anniversary was also coming up, so they’d be gone for two whole weeks.

“we’ll be back next sunday,” jeno’s dad said, ruffling your hair. “don’t do anything stupid while we’re gone.”

you rolled your eyes, half-smiling, but then his tone shifted as he turned to jeno.

“jeno, take care of her. don’t let her get into any trouble. no parties or anything reckless.”

jeno nodded without a word, eyes flicking toward you before he turned back to your dad with a forced grin. “got it.”

you mom stepped forward, kissing your cheek, her hand lingering on your shoulder a moment longer. “be good, okay? we’re trusting you.” her gaze softened but held an unmistakable warning beneath it.

you knew exactly why. after all, it wasn’t like you had a spotless record. just three months ago, you had come home drunk after sneaking out to a friend’s party. what was supposed to be "just a few drinks" had turned into you singing on top of the table and someone posting it to their story. your parents found out the next morning, thanks to your neighbor, of all people, who’d seen the video. it hadn’t even been that scandalous, except for the fact that you were obviously drunk and under 21 at the time.

the hangover was bad, but the lecture was worse. "you’re lucky jeno was there to drag you home," your mom had said, shooting you a disappointed look. jeno had played the responsible older kid that night, carrying you out before things got worse. but that didn’t stop your parents from being more protective now. especially of you.

still, it annoyed you that all the warnings were directed your way while jeno stood there looking like a saint, when you knew he was anything but. sure, he hadn’t gotten wasted like you, but he was at the same party smoking weed on the back porch, making out with some girl whose name he probably didn’t even know, and encouraging shots like he was the party host. he was just lucky none of that was caught on camera, unlike you.

when the front door closed behind them, a strange silence settled over the house. you watched through the window as they loaded their luggage into the car and drove off. two weeks alone with jeno. what could possibly go wrong?

“guess it’s just us now,” you muttered.

jeno’s lips twitched into a small smile. "looks like it."

his gaze flickered over your body while you were distracted. this will be so much fun, he thought.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

the house felt bigger without your parents around. normally, you’d take full advantage by inviting friends over, staying out late, and enjoying in the freedom. but something about being alone with jeno had you on edge.

not uncomfortable, just… wary.

he’d been acting strange lately. not openly, but enough that you noticed. it was in the way he looked at you now, like he knew something you didn’t.

you were scrolling through your phone in the kitchen that night when he strolled in.

"big plans while they’re gone?" he asked, pulling open the fridge.

"nothing crazy," you said, thumb still flicking at your screen. "just enjoying the peace and quiet."

he let out a low hum, the kind that sounded like he was holding back a laugh. "right. because you’re such a quiet, well-behaved girl."

your scrolling stopped. your gaze snapped up to him. "where’s that coming from?"

jeno didn’t answer immediately. instead, he stepped closer reaching past you for a glass in the cabinet overhead. the movement brought him close enough that his cologne hit you warm, musky, annoyingly good.

"you know," he murmured, voice just above a whisper, "you might fool them. but not me."

your heart skipped. "i have no idea what you’re talking about."

he dipped his head slightly, eyes flickering to your cleavage.

"sure you don’t."

then he was gone, leaving you in the kitchen with your pulse pounding and a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

the weekend arrived quicker than expected, and despite jeno’s weirdness lately, nothing out of the ordinary happened.

until saturday.

jeno was sprawled on the couch, mindlessly tapping his fingers against his knee. his gaze drifted up just as you wandered into the living room, barefoot and still in your sleepwear—a thin tank top and shorts that barely covered your ass. you didn’t even glance his way, too focused on your phone as you padded toward the kitchen.

it was almost funny, how careless you were around him. clueless, really.

jeno bit back a smirk.

"you’re up early," he said, breaking the quiet.

you glanced over your shoulder while pouring cereal into a bowl. "uh… yeah?"

he shrugged. "figured you’d be catching up on sleep after sneaking out last night."

your hand faltered for half a second. it was subtle but enough for him to notice.

his grin widened as he leaned back against the couch cushions, arms draping lazily over the backrest. "right."

you set the cereal down with a little more force than necessary and turned to face him, arms crossed. "okay, what’s going on with you?”

"me?" he feigned innocence, eyebrows raising. "nothing, just making conversation."

your eyes narrowed, studying him. when he offered nothing else, you scoffed and turned back to the counter, muttering under your breath.

he’d never cared before. never commented on where you went or what you did. why was he suddenly so interested in you?

jeno used to treat you like background noise, a mild inconvenience at worst. now his gaze lingered longer whenever you walked into the room, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your skin prickle in ways you didn’t want to think about.

later that evening, you curled up on the couch with your laptop, half-heartedly scrolling through an assignment you had no intention of finishing. jeno sat across from you, phone in hand, occasionally flicking through something with the tv playing low in the background. it was peaceful enough… until he spoke.

"you know…" he stretched, shirt riding up just enough to expose the waistband of his boxers. "your boyfriend kinda sucks."

your fingers froze mid-typing.

"what?" you asked, tone clipped. you didn’t look up, but your jaw tightened on instinct.

he hummed, "if i were sneaking out every night, i’d hope it was worth it."

you shut the laptop with a snap. "why do you even care?"

jeno grinned, clearly satisfied that he’d gotten under your skin. "i don’t."

you stood abruptly, blood buzzing with irritation. "whatever. i’m going to bed."

he chuckled under his breath as you turned to leave, but the sound grated on you. it echoed in your head as you stalked halfway down the hall before…no. screw that.

you spun on your heel, storming back into the living room. "you don’t know shit," you bit out.

jeno glanced up, unconcerned. "about what?"

"me. my boyfriend."

that finally got his full attention. he set his phone down and tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "oh, you mean the boyfriend who keeps getting dumped and crawling back like a stray?"

your nostrils flared. "fuck you."

"i’m just saying—"

"no, you’re not ‘just saying’ anything," you cut him off, stepping closer. "you think you know everything about me just because we share a roof?"

"you’d be surprised," he shot back, annoyingly calm.

your fists clenched. "you don’t know what i need. so stop acting like you do."

for a split second, something flickered in his expression, gone too fast to name. then his usual smirk slid back into place.

"i don’t need to know what you need." he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "i already know what you want."

your breath hitched. you hated that, hated the way your pulse jumped at his words, at the confidence in his voice. what the hell did that even mean?

"you’re an asshole," you snapped. "i don’t owe you an explanation."

jeno nodded, like he agreed. "then why are you still standing here?"

your face burned with frustration, but you bit your tongue. there was nothing you could say that wouldn’t make this worse. so you did the next best thing, you turned on your heel and walked away, slamming your bedroom door behind you.

and yet, lying in bed later, the back of your mind replayed his words on a loop. you still felt like you’d lost.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

hours passed and you were still pissed.

your whole body ached with it, hot and restless, like something crawling under your skin. jeno’s words sunk in deep, wrapping around you like barbed wire, too sharp, too true.

‘your boyfriend kinda sucks’ his voice rang in your ears.

no, your boyfriend was nearly perfect. he had all the right looks, the right voice, the right everything and yet… somehow, even after months of trying, of letting him touch you, of trying to want it—

you never got turned on with him. not the way you were now after a simple argument with jeno.

your hand moved before you could think, fingers slipping under the waistband of your shorts, finding that sticky warmth between your thighs. a shaky breath left you, head tipping back against the pillows. it wasn’t enough. god, it wasn’t nearly enough. you needed—fuck, you didn’t even know what you needed. just more. something to fill the ache, to drown out the way his voice echoed in your head. i don’t need to know what you need. i already know what you want.

stop.

you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to picture your boyfriend, to think about the way he kissed you, the way he whispered your name, the way he touched you.

but your body rejected it. the images blurred, twisted, morphed.

and suddenly it wasn’t his hands you were thinking about.

It was jeno’s slender fingers.

your fingertips grazed that sensitive spot, slick and throbbing, pulling a broken sound from your lips. your hips rolled up into your hand, chasing any semblance of relief. you let out a quiet, shuddering breath as your stomach clenched, your pulse kicking up as you fought it, fought him, fought the way his image took over.

but it was useless.

your body didn’t listen. it latched onto the memory of him. the way his pretty lips curled right before he was about to say something you knew would piss you off, the way his voice dipped when he was toying with you, the way his hands always fidgeted, tapping against his thigh, against his lips, always doing something.

your lips parted as your fingers moved faster, your other hand slid up your stomach, pushing up your shirt as your breath stuttered.

would he keep his rings on while touching you?

the thought sent a sharp pulse of arousal through you, your body tightening, the wetness between your thighs growing slicker.

you imagined his long fingers and the coolness of the rings against your skin. would he drag them over your stomach, trace your thighs, tease you with them first? or would he shove them inside right away?

you bit your lip, your fingers pressing down harder, teasing yourself the way he would, the way he might if he ever—

a moan slipped from your lips before you could stop it. “jeno…”

outside your door, jeno’s world fucking stopped. his body was tight, his breath stuck in his throat as he pressed himself against the wood.

he shouldn’t be here. he shouldn’t be standing outside your room, shouldn’t be looking through the small crack where the door hadn’t shut all the way.

but fuck.

fuck, you were so loud. did you even realize?

did you know how needy you sounded? the way your voice cracked, the way your breathing hitched, the way you whimpered when you…

jeno exhaled sharply, gripping the doorframe, trying to keep himself in check. but his mind was already too far gone. because if you were touching yourself to him, and if you were so desperate you couldn’t even keep quiet or make sure the the door was closed all the way… then maybe you wanted to get caught.

maybe you wanted him to see.

his breath came out slow and measured as he peeked through the crack, his body heating at the sight before him. the dim glow of your bedside lamp cast soft shadows over your skin, your legs spread wide, fingers buried deep inside yourself. the slick sounds of your movements, the rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted as you moaned his name. fuck, it was too much.

he felt himself throbbing painfully against his sweats, already aching from just watching you. his cock was so fucking hard it hurt.

he pulled himself out, his fingers wrapping around the thick length, hot and pulsing in his palm. he let out a sharp breath as he started stroking himself, matching his pace to the rhythm of your fingers slipping in and out of your pretty cunt.

he wanted to be the one touching you.

he imagined it, his fingers stretching you open, pumping in and out, his thumb circling your clit until you were shaking, whimpering against his mouth. would you let him fuck you raw the first time? god, you’d feel so good around him, so tight, clenching down on him like you never wanted him to pull out. he let out a quiet groan, biting his lip to keep himself from making any noise, even though part of him wanted you to hear him, wanted you to know exactly what you were doing to him.

your moans were getting louder, your breaths coming faster, more frantic. you were close, he could tell, your body was begging for release, and he wished, more than anything, that he could be the one to push you over the edge.

he knew that no one else could make you feel like this. not even your boyfriend, the one you pretended was enough for you. that idiot had the privilege of touching you, of being inside you, and still you weren’t getting off on thoughts of him. no, it was jeno’s name spilling from your lips as you fucked yourself.

his hand tightened around his cock, his strokes quickening. "cum for me, baby," he whispered under his breath, his forehead pressing harder against the doorframe.

maybe you heard him, maybe you didn’t, but your moans pitched higher, your fingers moving faster, your body trembling on the other side of the door. fuck—you were close, so fucking close, and he was right there with you. his jaw went slack, his breaths coming in ragged pants as the pleasure slammed into him, hot and heavy. his cock pulsed, his body shaking, cum spilling over his fingers in thick streaks as he saw you falling apart in your bed at the same time.

his body tensed, every nerve sparking as he milked himself through the high, swallowing back the urge to moan out your name. he barely had the presence of mind to tuck himself back into his sweats before he started dripping onto the carpet. that would’ve been a dead giveaway. but even as he came down from it, the heat in his chest didn’t fade. because now he knew just how badly you wanted him.

and he wasn’t going to just let it go.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

so, he was back outside your room the following night.

your door was closed all the way this time. he swallowed hard, his pulse hammering as he curled his fingers around the doorknob, testing it. it turned just a fraction before stopping. it was locked. he expected this. he had the feeling you suspected he’d seen you or at least heard you last night because you were unusually fidgety around him earlier today.

he exhaled slowly, lowering himself down until his face was level with the keyhole, his breath shallow as he listened. the obscene sounds of your fingers working between your thighs were unmistakable, each wet stroke sending another pulse of heat straight to his cock. he knew you were thinking about him again. your boyfriend wasn’t here, who the fuck else would you be touching yourself to?

he let his hand trail down, palming himself over his sweats, but this time, it wasn’t enough. he needed more.

his fingers drifted down to his pocket, curling around the small, thin tool he’d stolen from mark’s junk drawer earlier. jeno wasn’t an idiot, he knew to be prepared this time. hearing wouldn’t do it for him, he needed to see you again.

he slid the tool into the keyhole, his other hand steadying the knob as he worked it. it wasn’t his first time picking a lock. he’d done it plenty of times as a teen, sneaking into forbidden rooms at school, usually to make out with random girls. but this was different. he was breaking into his stepsister’s room so he could watch her touch herself. his hands itched, his whole body thrumming with a dangerous kind of thrill.

the lock gave a quiet click and he held his breath trying to listen for any indication that you noticed. after he thought it was safe, he twisted the handle and pushed the door just enough to crack it open.

and fuck, what a sight it was.

you were sprawled on your bed, your legs were in a butterfly position this time, your skin glistening with sweat. your shirt was hiked up all the way giving him the perfect sight of your tits. your panties were pushed down completely and he could see the way your fingers disappeared inside you. his name started slipping from your lips again, breathy, ruined. he clenched his jaw, his cock started to throb painfully at the sight.

you were so fucking beautiful like this. needy, desperate, chasing a high that only he could truly give you.

he licked his lips, watching the way your back arched, your fingers curling inside you as you edged yourself closer. his own hand slipped into his sweats, wrapping around his length, stroking slow, lazy, savoring the moment. he should leave. should close the door and pretend this never happened. but instead, he kept watching, his lips parting in a silent exhale as he imagined once again what it would be like to replace your fingers with his own.

or better yet, his cock.

you had no idea he was here. no idea you were putting on a show just for him.

there was no way in hell he was going to stop now.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

you’d been locking your door more often now. you weren’t sure why. it didn’t make sense, but the feeling just wouldn’t go away. the feeling that you were being watched.

maybe it was the fact that you thought you heard a moan outside your door the other night. or maybe the fact that your panties had mysteriously gone missing from the laundry basket. and there was only one other person living with you at the moment. you tried to tell yourself it was paranoia. after all, why would jeno do something like that? he didn’t have fantasies like you, right?

still, something felt different when he was around. especially when you bumped into him in the kitchen or living room. the tension was so thick as if the space between you was charged, waiting for something, or someone, to cross the line.

you tried to distract yourself, flicking through jersey shore reruns with half your mind still on him. but as soon as you heard footsteps approaching, your pulse spiked. your body clearly not knowing the difference between riding a roller coaster, and your stepbrother entering the room.

you glanced up, trying to force a bored expression. the moment your eyes landed on him, however, everything in you froze. his damp hair stuck to his forehead, a towel draped loosely around his neck. his sweatpants hung low on his hips, his boxers peeking, and the way his white shirt clung to his chest made it feel like the room was closing in around you.

you swallowed hard.

he caught your gaze, and for a split second, it felt like he saw right through you. like he knew what you were thinking, what you were feeling. but he didn’t say anything. he just walked over, sitting close enough that his leg brushed against yours. the space between you was so small, but it felt like a chasm, a void that you couldn’t bridge. you couldn’t move. not when your body was so painfully aware of him.

“you like this trash?” his voice was casual, but his eyes were anything but. they were on you, studying you.

you blinked, the question throwing you off guard. you hadn’t even realized he was talking about the show until he nodded toward it. “uh... yeah. it’s... entertaining,” you stammered, your voice sounding foreign in your own ears. you wanted to say more, to defend it, but the words wouldn’t come. your mind was fixated on him.

you tried to focus on the screen, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. his towel slipping from his shoulders, water droplets sliding down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. you could feel that familiar flutter in your lower stomach.

your fingers twitched, desperate to do something, anything, to alleviate the tightness.

jeno tilted his head slightly, his lips pulling into that almost imperceptible smirk, the one that made you want to either scream or crawl into him.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft, but there was something dangerous underneath. “you look tense.”

you didn’t answer immediately. instead, you shifted uncomfortably, your pulse hammering in your ears. he didn’t push, but the way he was looking at you made you feel exposed, like he had you cornered.

suddenly, the doorbell rang, and you shot up from the couch like you’d been electrocuted. your pulse was still racing, your thoughts tangled in knots you didn’t want to acknowledge. this was good. maybe whoever was at the door would shake you out of this haze.

but the second you opened it, you almost wished you hadn’t.

your boyfriend…or ex? you didn’t even know anymore, stood there holding a single rose in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other.

“happy valentine’s day,” he greeted, flashing that charming smile he knew melted you.

your eyes widened. you’d been so distracted you totally forgot the date. damn you, lee jeno.

“i’m sorry i didn’t call in advance,” he pushed the rose into your hand and leaned to kiss you “and i know we agreed to take a break… still, i couldn't just not come today…”

he lifted the bag on his other hand. “movie?”

you forced a smile, your stomach twisting guiltily for a second. even though your relationship was a bit unstable as of late, valentine’s wasn’t something you ever wanted to half-ass so it was a good thing you’d planned ahead.

you bought his gift the previous week, carefully wrapping the box yourself because you wanted it to feel special. a pair of shoes he’d been eyeing for months, a new band for his apple watch since his favorite one had broken recently, and a handwritten letter tucked inside, detailing how much you appreciated him, how much you loved him. You even spent extra time decorating the envelope, adding little doodles and stickers just to make him smile.

you should've felt some kind of relief, his presence should distract you from the wild thoughts swirling in your head. but as you stepped aside to let him in, that sense of relief never came.

because the moment you turned back, you remembered jeno was still there on the couch. you silently willed him with your mind to go to his room, maybe leave altogether.

but of course he didn’t.

“oh. hey, dude” your boyfriend said as he finally noticed him. “didn’t know your brother was here.”

you winced. that word. brother. your tongue itched to correct him, but what was the point? he knew you weren’t really siblings. he just chose to say it anyway.

jeno let the word hang in the air before he finally stood up, stretching his arms over his head before settling into a straighter posture. he never stood that straight, but he was making sure to show that he was at least two inches taller than your boyfriend. It was a subtle move, but you saw it for what it was. a challenge.

you almost scoffed at the sheer pettiness of it.

“ah, hello…” jeno drawled. “sorry, remind me of your name again?”

your boyfriend told him, his tone polite but slightly stiff.

“right,” jeno said, half-smiling. “didn’t know we’d be having visitors today…”

your boyfriend cleared his throat. “ah, that’s my bad. i didn’t tell her I was coming since I wanted to surprise her for Valentine’s”

“hm,” Jeno hummed. “well... as long as you two keep it in the living room, should be fine. gotta look out for my little sister while the parents are out, you know?”

you squeezed your eyes shut for half a second, inhaling slowly, forcing yourself to stay calm. he never called you that. also, who did he think he was playing house police all of a sudden?

“sit down, babe,” you said, your tone so sweet it sounded forced.

jeno scoffed under his breath, soft enough that only you heard it.

you ignored it, settling onto the couch as he disappeared into the kitchen. your boyfriend sat beside you, oblivious, scrolling through movies, while you shoved a chip into your mouth just to distract your mind.

suddenly, you heard clattering from the kitchen followed by a curse.

“uh, y/n… can you come help me real quick?”

you squeezed your eyes shut.

“what did you break now?” you called, already exasperated.

"your mom’s china," he called back. "think i broke like two plates. maybe three. hard to say. pretty sure she’ll notice, though."

shit. you were on your feet before you could think, muttering a quick, “sorry, i’ll be right back,” as you hurried toward the kitchen.

the moment you stepped inside, irritation flared hotter in your chest.

“are you kidding me? what were you even doing near those? my mom explicitly said—” you voiced trailed off when you saw there was no broken china. no mess. nothing.

just jeno, standing there with his arms crossed, watching you with a smirk so infuriating you wanted to slap it off his face.

your hands curled into fists. “what are you doing?”

“really?” he ignored your glare, tilting his head mockingly. “he brought snacks and a single rose?” he let out a dry chuckle. “it’s valentine’s day for god’s sake, he could’ve at least tried.”

“i like simple things,” you shot back. “i don’t need a big fucking production”

jeno took a step closer making your breath get stuck in your throat. he wasn’t touching you, wasn’t even crowding you, but fuck he might as well have been, with the way your body tensed.

his voice dropped lower. “are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

he clearly wanted to get a reaction out of you and you refused to give it to him.

his gaze flicked down to your lips, pursed at him, and yet so pretty. he could still remember them parting and gasping his name last night.

"bet it gets tiring to pretend so much” he leaned in slightly.

you took a sharp step back.

“just… get out of my business,” you snapped, breath uneven.

jeno’s lips curled. “sure thing.” his eyes glinted with dark amusement. “hope you have fun with mr. buzzkill.”

your jaw clenched as you spun on your heel, storming back to the living room. who the hell did he think he was? since when did he have an opinion on your love life? he’d never cared before, never questioned, never even acknowledged it. so why now?

he kept pushing, prodding, playing with you.

and the worst part was that you were letting him. you knew you should ignore him. his opinion didn’t matter anyways.

so why couldn’t you stop paying attention to him?

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

you decided to push jeno out of your mind, and what better way than by surrounding yourself with people you actually liked?

a pool party seemed like the perfect distraction. it was nothing too crazy, just a few close friends from college. the weather had been unusually nice all week, the kind of warmth that made everything feel a little hazy, the sun kissing your skin as you lay stretched out on a lounge chair, still damp from your swim. it was the perfect excuse to bask in the sun, let the tension ease from your body, and pretend jeno didn’t exist.

jenny, lying beside you on her stomach, propped herself up on her elbows and let out an exaggerated sigh. “by the way, where’s your hot brother?”

you sighed, not even bothering to open your eyes. “stop calling him that. people might actually think i'm related to that jerk.”

“honestly, though,” natty chimed in, rubbing tanning oil on her arms. “how have you not jumped his bones yet? he’s so fine.”

you scoffed, finally cracking an eye open to glare at her. “he’s really not all that. if you guys lived with him, you wouldn’t think like this.”

jenny turned onto her side, her smirk downright sinful. “girl, if i lived with him i'd let him do unspeakable things to me every night.”

you fingers tightened around your drink as something hot and unwanted curled low in your stomach. if only they knew the things you did thinking about him late at night.

belle made a face from where she sat at the edge of the pool. “you guys are gross.”

jenny just shrugged, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “why? they’re not even related.”

belle wrinkled her nose. “yes, but they live together. it’s still weird.”

jenny hummed, resting her chin on her shoulder as she eyed you knowingly. “whatever, i meant what i said.”

“does he have a girlfriend?” natty asked, stretching her legs out as she adjusted her sunglasses.

you shrugged, taking another sip of your piña colada. “i don’t know. i mean, he barely leaves the house. i doubt he has much of a social life… probably the most socially inept guy i’ve ever met.” the words left your mouth lazily, but the moment they did, a shadow loomed over you, blocking out the sun.

you didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

you tilted your head back after a few seconds of silently cursing your big mouth. your heart did a million backflips as you locked eyes with jeno, who was now standing directly behind your chair. his head was tilted just slightly, a slow smirk playing at his lips.

you gulped slowly, and wished the chair would just swallow you whole. did he hear what you just said?

his gaze flickered over you, amused, but there was something heavier in the way his eyes traced over your bikini-clad figure. and then you realized he wasn’t in his usual hoodie and sweatpants. instead, he wore a fitted jean jacket over a graphic tee from a band you didn’t recognize, paired with tight black jeans. even his hair was styled, it looked like he got a fresh undercut, even added some designs on the side. he felt like an entirely different person. he looked good. too good.

“hello, ladies,” he greeted smoothly, his voice deep.

your friends giggled, but you barely registered them because jeno’s attention was back on you in a second.

“does dad know you’re having a party?” he asked, his voice had a teasing lilt to it, but there was something slightly patronizing underneath.

you rolled your eyes. “it’s just a few people.” get off my ass, you almost added but bit your tongue.

his smirk didn’t falter. “mhm… hope so, ‘cause he can see everything through those.” he pointed toward the security cameras, and something about the way he said it made irritation prickle at your skin.

he had the audacity to call your boyfriend a buzzkill, yet here he was, trying to kill any potential fun you could have.

“anyway,” he continued, “this socially inept guy is heading out.”

you breath caught in your throat. so he did hear you.

his eyes flickered over your body once more, and before you could respond, his hand brushed over your shoulder in a touch so fleeting, so meaningless, it shouldn’t have made your entire body lock up the way it did.

“call me if there’s an emergency,” he said. “be good, yeah?”

the second he was out of earshot, the giggles started back up, hushed and scandalized. your skin still burned where his touch had ghosted over you, and you hated that you wanted to turn your head, watch him leave, memorize the way he looked just now.

you swallowed hard, pressing your cold glass against your lips and forcing yourself to pretend that none of it affected you.

after several minutes of listening to your friends gush about jeno, how good he looked, how he smelled like expensive cologne, blah blah blah, you decided you’d had enough. you pushed yourself up from the lounge chair and made your way inside with the excuse of refilling your drink.

as you passed through the living room, a flicker of movement outside caught your eye. jeno was still there, standing near the edge of the sidewalk. his fingers dipped into his pocket, retrieving something small, and curiosity got the better of you. you squinted, trying to make out what he was holding.

despite knowing better, you grabbed a lightweight cover-up dress from the hook by the door and slipped it over your shoulders before stepping outside. the afternoon air carried the scent of chlorine and the faintest trace of citrus from the trees lining the house.

“since when do you smoke?” you asked, approaching him cautiously.

jeno turned his head slightly. the corner of his lips curled in that maddening way of his. without breaking eye contact, he placed the cigarette between his lips, the unlit end resting against the soft curve of his mouth.

“i don’t,” he said dismissively but then, he struck a match against his finger and the tiny flame came to life. the sight of it held your attention for just a second too long. probably because you’d never seen anyone light a match like that, or the fact that he was gaslighting you so casually.

“i thought you said you were going to hang out with friends,” you pressed, crossing your arms as you watched the flame kiss the tip of the cigarette.

“i said i was going to hang out,” he corrected, taking a slow drag before exhaling it in your direction, the smoke curling between you. “i didn't say with friends.”

you barely resisted the urge to cough, your throat tightening at the thick scent of tobacco. before you could call him out on this, the low rumble of an engine broke through the silence.

a black jeep screeched to a stop at the foot of your driveway, tires skidding slightly against the pavement. you instinctively took a step back as the vehicle came to a jarring halt. the tinted window rolled down, revealing a girl with jet-black hair that framed her face in glossy waves. he lips, painted a deep cherry red, curved into a smile that was just a little too perfect.

“sorry, i’m late!” she said, her voice airy, with a sing-song quality that immediately set your teeth on edge “there was so much traffic.”

“sure you didn’t just get pulled over for reckless driving?” jeno chuckled before taking another slow drag from his cigarette.

“mo, silly!” she giggled, her voice turning annoyingly flirtatious as she leaned a little closer over the window. “did you doll up just for me?”

“sure,” jeno replied casually. you didn’t catch the way his eyes flicked to you for just a split second because you were busy trying to mask the seething annoyance that was threatening to show in your expression. you didn’t even know this girl, and yet, the way she was acting was irritating you deeply.

“let me drive,” jeno said, pulling the door open for her to step out. you noticed the way she purposely wobbled slightly to fall directly into his arms.

“careful,” he said, his voice deep and resonant as he steadied her, the sound of it sending a heavy vibration through your chest.

“if your wet blanket of a boyfriend shows up later,” he continued once inside the car, his words laced with a hint of condescension, “just try not to fuck around in the pool, okay? remember, someone’s always watching.” the way he said that left a strange, uneasy knot in your stomach, the implication of his words lingering far too long.

before you could even muster a response, he slammed the jeep into gear and drove off.

it was around 9 pm when you decided to call it a night. your boyfriend hadn’t even shown up. he claimed he had to help his dad with “stuff” but you hadn’t really paid attention to the details. you weren’t interested in hearing excuses anyway.

your friends pouted, complaining that you should let them stay and have a sleepover, but you weren’t in the mood. they only left after you promised to do it another time.

you wandered upstairs, feeling the fatigue from the evening settle in your bones. the water from the shower was almost too hot, but you welcomed the burn as it stripped the chlorine from your skin. you lingered under the steam, savoring the quiet of the house.

once you were done, you meticulously moisturized your skin with extra attention to the dryness that clung to your arms after the pool and the heat of the shower. you threw on your usual pjs, a loose tank top and shorts. you thought of the way jeno’s dark eyes followed you whenever you wore them.

you made your way to the living room and sank onto the couch to watch tv, hyper aware of the ticking sound of the clock. the hands crept closer to 11 p.m. and you found your thoughts drifting despite your best attempts to focus. jeno’s face floated into your mind, his dark eyes flickering with amusement whenever he saw you. you tried to push it away but your mind kept returning to him and that girl with jet-black hair.

the sting of your nails digging into the palsn of your hands is what snapped you out of it. the thought of him with her… doing what? it didn’t even matter. why should it matter?

you decided to go to bed after realizing it was stupid to wait for him to come back.

it was around 2 am when you were jerked awake by the sound of shuffling outside your door. you heard a giggle followed by a hushed voice right before your door creaked open, and you quickly squeezed your eyes shut again.

"shit, wrong room," you heard jeno whisper, and your breath caught in your throat. you opened one eye just enough to see him standing in the doorway, the girl with jet-black hair practically draped around his neck.

she pulled him down into a kiss, and you watched, frozen, as they made out right there in front of your door. her soft moans echoed through the space along with the sounds of their hands fondling each other’s bodies.

they continued, oblivious to the fact that you were very much awake, until jeno finally pulled the door closed behind him, muffling the noises just enough for you to breathe again.

the anger hit you immediately, and the indignation that followed was almost comical in its intensity. with what face had he told you not to "mess around" at home because your parents were always watching, only to go and do this? right in front of your room, no less?

you heard the shuffle of movement in his room next door, and a chilling realization sank in.

they were about to have sex, and you’d hear every damn second of it.

it wasn’t like you’d never snuck your boyfriend in late at night before. But all you ever did was suck him off or let him finger you. you never actually had proper sex. not for lack of trying, but rather the issues you’d been having getting… aroused with him.

the moans started, soft at first, then louder. each sound felt like a needle, digging deeper into the pit of your stomach. you squeezed your eyes shut again, wishing, begging to be anywhere but within earshot of the noise that now felt like it was tearing your insides apart.

you could hear everything. the soft thuds of their clothes hitting the floor, the creak of the mattress as they fell onto it. jeno’s rough groans, the breathless whimpers he tried and failed to suppress. the wet, obscene sounds of him moving inside her. the desperate gasps, the frantic whisper of his name from her lips. their mouths meeting over and over again, the muffled, needy sounds of them colliding filling the space.

every movement, every noise, was painfully clear, as if you were right there in the room with them.

you wanted to disappear. crawl under your bed. evaporate into the walls. oh, the walls. the godforsaken, paper-thin walls that some sadistic architect clearly designed just to ruin your life.

you pressed a pillow over your head, begging for the sounds to stop, but it was useless. they only grew louder.

“jeno… i’m close,” she whimpered, voice high and shaking.

“cum for me…” he responded, breathless.

and suddenly, amidst the debauchery of sounds, you heard it.

your name.

spoken in a broken moan.

your breath stilled. for a second, you thought you must have imagined it, that your mind was playing a cruel trick on you. but then—

you heard it again. louder. needier.

jeno was calling your name as he came.

a paralyzing shock shot through you, pinning you to the mattress. your pulse hammering so hard you thought your heart might bruise your chest cavity. you stared at the ceiling, unblinking, as his moans settled over you like a suffocating weight.

silence followed, broken only by their uneven breaths. then you heard the rustle of sheets as they untangled from each other.

“can i stay the night?” the girl asked, her voice still heavy with satisfaction.

“no,” jeno said, voice oddly cold and detached. “my parents are gonna be here in the morning.”

that was a lie. your parents weren’t coming back until the following weekend.

you were still too shocked to move, too shaken to process what had just happened. but as you listened to her gather her things, to the sound of jeno walking her to the door without so much as an ounce of warmth in his tone, one thing became terrifyingly clear...

he hadn’t just used her. he’d been thinking about you while doing so.

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

you didn’t sleep. not for a single minute.

the shadows in your room shifted as the hours crawled by. it felt impossible to close your eyes without hearing it all over again. your name on his lips.

when your phone screen finally read 6:00 a.m, you gave up on sleep entirely, throwing off the sheets and slipping out of bed like a ghost.

you tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen, fingers numb as you grabbed a glass and filled it to the brim. the cold water slid down your throat in greedy gulps, but it did nothing to cool yourself.

then, a breathless laugh tore from your lips, unhinged and bitter. the sheer absurdity of it all crashed into you at once, like a sick joke the universe decided to play on you. jeno had been inside another girl, and yet, it was your name that spilled out of his lips.

the laughter bubbled up harder. it must have been loud enough to wake him, because a few moments later, footsteps padded into the kitchen.

jeno stood in the doorway, eyes heavy with sleep, brows pinched together as he took in the sight of you, your back was turned to him, shoulders trembling with laughter that didn’t seem to belong to you.

“the hell is wrong with you?” his voice was groggy.

you stopped, forcing the manic grin off your face before turning slightly away, shielding yourself from his scrutiny. god, if he saw the way you were smiling right now, he really would think you lost your mind.

“are you high?” he asked, a little more forcefully this time.

you let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head. i wish. maybe if you were high, this wouldn’t feel so real. maybe you wouldn’t still hear his voice in your head from the night before, broken and desperate, calling for you.

a shiver ran down your spine when you felt jeno move closer behind you. you could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest, the faint smell of sleep and last night’s scent clinging to him. his hand clamped down on your shoulder, turning you around with an impatient tug.

“no, seriously.” his voice was lower now, forcing you to meet his gaze. “did you do drugs last night?”

your breath hitched when his chest brushed against yours, and that’s when you remembered you weren’t wearing a bra. the thin fabric of your tank top did nothing to hide the way your nipples hardened at the contact.

you saw the flicker in his expression, the brief second of realization when his gaze dropped.

“what do you care?” you shot back instead, tilting your chin up defiantly.

you liked the way his jaw ticked when you pushed him.

his grip on your chin was sudden, firm, tilting your face until your eyes locked with his. his fingers were rough and the touch sent something dark and electric crackling under your skin.

you ripped yourself from his grasp, grimacing. “don’t touch me. i know where that hand has been.”

jeno laughed, a rich sound that made your throat close.

“oh, so you heard.”

you scoffed. “of course i heard. it was impossible not to when you were being so loud.”

his smirk deepened. “then you know my struggle.”

he stepped forward, pressed you further against the counter until there was barely any air between your bodies. this was the closest you had ever been to him.

your heart slammed against your ribs, but you refused to shrink away. if anything, it only made you glare harder, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you falter.

“i hear everything you do in your room too.”

he paused, letting his finger curl around a stray hair falling over your face.

“every night.”

your lips parted, but nothing came out except a sharp inhale.

his eyes fluttered across your features, lingering on your lips, still wet from the water you just drank.

“wh-what…”

“yeah.” his grin grew sharper, his perfect teeth peeking out to tug at his lower lip. “every time you sneak your dumbass boyfriend in.”

his fingers brushed against the counter beside you, caging you in completely.

“every time you touch yourself…”

you swallowed, looking between his neck and shoulder, unable to meet his dark eyes.

“and you do that a lot lately.”

you gulped to soothe your dry throat, wishing he couldn’t somehow smell how aroused you were getting. you hated the way your body reacted to him, how your thighs pressed together on instinct. he noticed. the bastard always noticed everything.

he was still pressed so close you could feel the steady rise and fall of his hard chest against yours, the heat of his skin bleeding into yours like fire licking at gasoline.

“i—” you started, but your voice cracked.

jeno tilted his head, “what?” his voice was a murmur meant for just the two of you. his lips curved, but the smile wasn’t kind, it was wicked. “got nothing to say now?”

you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to hold his gaze even as your stomach twisted into knots. “fuck you.”

his smile widened. “i mean, that’s what you always think about, isn’t it?” he murmured.

your breath caught in your throat. he leaned in, his lips so close to your ear that you felt the ghost of them graze your skin.

“you touch yourself thinking about me.”

a wave of heat crawled up your neck. you shouldn’t be reacting this way. shouldn’t be giving yourself away this easily.

you inhaled sharply, gathering every ounce of strength left in your body before shoving at his chest, pushing him away. he let you, barely stumbling back.

“go to hell, jeno.”

you turned on your heel, ready to storm out, to get as far away from him as possible—

but you barely made it two steps before his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. he yanked you back against him, spinning you around so fast that you barely had time to register the shift before your back was against the counter again, his body crowding yours.

his grip tightened, but not enough to hurt just enough to hold you there.

"what are you doing?" you demanded, pressing a hand to his chest. "i have a boyfriend."

he laughed bitterly "oh, please. we both know he doesn’t even make you wet."

“how do you—?” you swallowed, barely able to get the words out.

the realization suddenly settled like lead in your gut. he read it. your blog. the one you used to vent frustrations you couldn’t say out loud, the one that held every unspoken insecurity, every late-night confession you never meant for anyone to see. every filthy thought about him.

and jeno of all people had gotten his hands on it. that’s why he’d been acting so strange lately.

your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, not pulling him closer, but gripping like you needed something to hold onto before you lost your mind.

his smirk deepened as he saw the expression of horror in your face.

“you should really clear your browser history,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “or, better yet…maybe don’t keep the tabs open on a laptop you asked me to fix.”

the bastard wasn’t even sorry for invading your privacy.

your pulse roared in your ears as you tried to school your expression, trying to make it seem like you weren't two seconds away from spiraling.

“i don’t—” you started, but the words wouldn’t come.

he leaned in, voice dipping lower. “oh don’t quit on me now. you had plenty to say in that little blog of yours.”

his fingers traced your jaw softly.

“especially about me.”

he grinned, teeth grazing his bottom lip as he watched your reaction unfold in real time. “what was it you said?” he pretended to think. “oh, right. he pisses me off more than anyone else, but i bet he fucks like a god.’”

you shoved him again but he barely stumbled, just let out a low chuckle like he was thrilled by your anger.

“what’s wrong?” he taunted. “embarrassed?”

“shut up.”

“aww, c’mon, don’t be shy now. i read the whole thing, you’ve definitely thought about this exact moment before.”

you wanted to die. right there on the kitchen floor. just disintegrate and never have to endure the smug, self-satisfied look on his face ever again.

but worse than the embarrassment? worse than the rage twisting inside you like a coil ready to snap?

was the terrifying, undeniable truth.

he knew you wanted him.

jeno moved closer, and you instinctively backed into the counter, your hands gripping the cool edge.

his smirk was insufferable. giddy, almost.

“god, you should see your face right now,” he murmured, tilting his head. “all pink and flustered. just like i imagined.”

your eyes darted across his face in shock.

“oh yeah,” he continued, watching the realization flicker in your eyes. “you’re not the only one who’s fantasized about this, baby”

“i don’t fantasize,” you said quickly, hoping to salvage some dignity.

jeno just laughed. “save it.”

he reached up, tucking another stray strand of hair behind your ear, the way someone might handle something delicate, except the glint in his eye was anything but soft.

“i said i read everything,” he reminded you, voice dripping with satisfaction. “i even memorized that one post, the one where you talk about my fingers—”

“don’t,” you interrupted, slapping a hand over his mouth before he could finish that sentence.

bad move. because now his lips were pressed against your palm, his breath hot against your skin. and he didn’t pull away.

instead, his dark eyes locked onto yours making your pulse stutter. he reached up, prying your hand away from his mouth, but instead of letting it go, he brought it lower flat against his bare chest, over the steady thump of his heartbeat.

“i like knowing your secrets,” he murmured. “i like knowing what gets in that pretty little head of yours late at night.”

your stomach flipped.

“and you know what i like the most?” he dipped his head, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “i like knowing that no matter how much you fight me on this,” he whispered, “you’ve already given yourself to me.”

his lips brushed from your ear down to the corner of your mouth, until finally, they met yours. you barely registered how easily your lips parted for him until his tongue slid in, claiming you. a groan slipped out before you could stop it.

you knew you should push him away. you should. but the thought barely even formed before it was gone, lost in the heat of his mouth.

"aren’t you gonna stop me?" he murmured, pulling back just enough to make you chase his lips.

you didn’t move, didn’t shove him away, didn’t say a damn thing.

his lips curled. "didn’t think so.”

then he kissed you harder, rougher. his fingers cradling your face while his other hand slid lower, gripping a handful of your ass. you gasped, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pulling you flush against him.

his knee pressed between your legs, shifting just right, and you moaned. his lips curved against yours. "there’s my good girl."

heat flared up your spine, equal parts humiliation and arousal. some semblance of reason came over you and you pushed at his chest, but he caught your wrist, pinning it against the counter.

"you wrote about how bad you wanted me to take you right here in this kitchen," he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. "want me to remind you?"

"shut up," you groaned, twisting your wrist free and shoving at him properly this time.

he didn’t budge. he only laughed, nipping at your lower lip before angling your face up, kissing you deep and slow, like he had all the time in the world. his hand slid from your ass to your thigh, hiking it higher around his hip.

the new angle made you feel him, every inch of his hard length pressing right against your core, and you gasped. he thrust against you and the groan he let out sent a pulse of heat straight to your stomach.

"fuck," he rasped, pressing his forehead to yours, his hips rolling again. "you feel that?"

your fingers curled into his shirt, whimpers spilling out of you as he kept humping you.

jeno’s grip tightened on your thigh, fingers digging into your skin as he rocked against you, his breath hot against your lips. “look at you,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement and something darker. “clinging to me like this when you were just pretending to hate me a few minutes ago.”

you opened your mouth to argue, to deny, but all that came out was a sharp gasp as his hands slid under your tank top, fingers tracing lazy patterns up your ribs until they found your perked nipple. his knee pressed more insistently between your legs.

“jen—”

“shh.” he breathed against your lips. “you don’t have to say anything. your body’s already telling me everything i need to know.”

the way his lips ghosted over your jaw, then down your throat, made your breath hitch. you felt like you were drowning in the way he touched you, just enough to drive you crazy but not enough to give you what you really wanted.

“you’ve thought about this,” he mused, voice laced with satisfaction as he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss just below your ear. “haven’t you? late at night, when you’re all alone…”

your nails dug into his shoulders as he ground against you again, harder this time. he was right. and that infuriated you.

“jeno,” you hissed, half warning, half plea.

“say it,” he murmured against your skin, hands slipping lower. “say you want me.”

you couldn’t do that. you still wanted to cling to some semblance of dignity. but then his fingers slipped inside your shorts, and the illusion that you ever stood a chance shattered.

your gasp turned into a strangled moan as his fingers dipped between your soaked folds, tracing slow circles, teasing you with featherlight strokes that had you melting against him. his breath was hot against your temple.

“if you don’t want this,” he murmured, “then maybe we should stop.”

and just like that, he started to retreat, his touch vanishing like a cruel tease.

“no,” you choked out, your hand gripping his wrist before he could pull away completely. “don’t stop… please.”

he tilted his head, savoring every ounce of your desperation. “you sure?” he mused, feigning innocence even as his lips, swollen and slick, curled into something devilish. “because if you think this is wrong, we really should stop.”

the bastard was toying with you, and worst of all, you found it maddeningly hot.

your nails dug into his arm, your body thrumming with frustration and need. “jeno,” you warned, voice dangerously low. “if you don’t touch me right now, i’ll go upstairs and do it myself.”

you saw the moment his pupils dilated, a dark, almost feral hunger flashing in his eyes.

“oh, princess,” he crooned, his hand slipping back into your shorts in an instant, fingers resuming their torment with renewed urgency. “you really shouldn’t have said that.”

but instead of touching you like you needed, he yanked your shorts down, your panties dragging along with them in one swift motion. before you could form a single word, he hoisted you onto the counter with ease, the hard surface pressing into the backs of your thighs. your legs instinctively tried to close, but his grip tightened, keeping you open for him.

and then he dropped to his knees.

your stomach plummeted, anticipation coiling so tightly inside you that you felt dizzy. he looked up at you from beneath his thick lashes, eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide with hunger. his hands dragged slowly up the inside of your thighs, spreading them further. his tongue darted out, wetting his lips like he was about to devour the best meal ever.

your walls clenched around nothing.

“jeno—” his name came out in a broken gasp.

“you’re shaking,” his breath ghosted over your core, making you jolt, making you ache. "what’s wrong, baby? nervous?"

the way his voice curled around the word baby, sent a fresh wave of heat straight between your legs. but you didn’t get the chance to answer.

because then he dove between your thighs.

the first stroke of his tongue had you gasping, hands flying to his hair as your head snapped back against the cabinets. the heat of his mouth had your body jerking before you could stop yourself, pleasure so intense it almost hurt.

his hands flexed against your thighs, spreading you wider, keeping you still as he licked deep into you. and when he groaned you nearly lost it. the vibration shot straight through you, your stomach clenching, your thighs twitching against his grip.

“jeno—” his name was barely a breath, a desperate sound that made him hum against you, pleased. he pulled back just enough for his lips to brush over your skin.

“god, you taste even better than i imagined” he rasped.

and then he was back on you, tongue working faster, fingers digging into your thighs like he needed this, like he was getting off on the way you gasped, the way your body trembled under his mouth.

he wasn’t just eating you out. he was devouring you.

his tongue moved in slow strokes, drawing out every whimper that spilled from your lips. you tugged at his hair, grinding down harder, but he just chuckled against you. cocky bastard.

“needy, huh?” he murmured between licks. “thought you could handle it.”

you barely registered his words, too caught up in the way he worked you open. but then he pulled away, making you gasp at the loss.

“jeno—” you started to protest, but he was already grabbing you by the waist.

“quit whining,” he smirked, hoisting you up easily. you yelped, legs locking around his hips as he strode toward the stairs. “you wanted this, didn’t you?”

your back hit the mattress a second later. you barely caught your breath before he tugged his pants down, the outline of his dick straining against his boxers.

jeno climbed onto the bed, gaze flicking over you with heat. you expected him to take you right then but he leaned back instead, hands behind his head.

“ride my face,” he said.

you froze, thinking he was joking for a second, but then you saw his his eyes and realized he was being completely serious. panic came over you, you’d never done this before, your boyfriend had never even eaten your out before, only fingered you. this was way more than that though.

“jeno—”

he raised a brow. “what, shy now?” his hands shot out, dragging you toward him. “c’mon, don’t start getting all sweet on me now.”

he positioned you right above his face. you swallowed, “jeno… i-i don’t know—“

“don’t worry baby, trust me”

and then he was spreading your legs further apart so you sank on his face slowly. his nose nuzzled between your folds first, the sharp line of it pushing against your core and making a guttural moan escape you.

his tongue followed, licking up and down, and prodding your entrance with insistence.

“oh, fuck—me” you whimpered, his hands on your hips guided you to press even harder against his face and even in your pleasure you worried he would drown in your cunt.

but when you looked down, there was nothing but pure bliss on his face, his eyes rolling back and his brows furrowed as he lapped relentlessly. it looked like he was enjoying this as much as you.

as your orgasm approached again, you couldn’t help but roll your hips against his face. the movement made his nose press further as his tongue continued licking long greedy strips against your clit.

“jeno—i...i’m—“ you moaned,

and your orgasm crashed over you with such a violent force it made you lean forward barely catching yourself with your arms before you could actually suffocate the boy under you.

you crawled down his body, your breath hitching as you took in the sight of his face glistening with your juices. his tongue swept out as he licked up every trace, dark eyes fixed on you.

his hands remained anchored on your hips, fingers flexing just enough to press you down against his body. you could feel him hard and burning through the thin fabric of his sweats. the instinctive grind of your hips had him exhaling a low chuckle. you wanted this, he wanted this, but something held you back. if you crossed this line… would you really be able to turn back?

you didn’t have time to find out because the sound of the doorbell ringing snapped you both out of your daze.

jeno blinked, looking toward the bedroom door. “seriously...?”

“shit—” you scrambled off him, tripping over your own limbs in the process.

“i’ll get it,” he offered, starting to sit up.

“no!” you shoved at his chest, pushing him back down. “your face, jeno— it’s covered in my—just—go wash it off!”

he grinned lazily. “didn’t hear you complaining a minute ago.”

“not the time!” you hissed, picking up your discarded clothes and putting them on.

jeno started, “i read somewhere that cum is really good for your skin—”

you didn’t dignify that with a response, slamming the door shut on your way out. your reflection in the living room mirror was a disaster: hair tousled, lips kiss-swollen, fresh marks blooming along your neck. you tugged your collar up and plastered on what you hoped passed for a normal expression before opening the door.

and promptly felt the ground vanish under you when you saw who was standing outside.

“hey, beautiful” your boyfriend said.

your mouth went dry. “oh. wow. hi—”

he held up a bouquet. “i realized we didn’t really do anything special for valentine’s, and you were so thoughtful with your gifts…” his other hand revealed a small box.

your heart twisted at the sight.

“figured you deserved something nice after everything you’ve done for me.” he opened the box to reveal a delicate necklace, your initial glinting in tiny diamonds. “also, i wanna take you out today”

you swallowed. “it’s... beautiful, thanks.”

“here.” he stepped forward, gently brushing your hair aside to fasten it around your neck. his fingers grazed your skin then stopped.

“you’ve got a mark,” he said, frowning. his thumb skimmed over the hickey, sending your pulse into overdrive.

“mosquito bite,” you blurted.

he raised an eyebrow. “looks... aggressive.”

“it was a big mosquito,” you managed with a nervous laugh.

“massive, actually” came jeno’s voice.

you turned just as he was descending the stairs, towel-drying his face and now dressed in…god help you, only sweatpants. fresh hickeys also peppered his collarbone and chest.

your boyfriend’s smile tightened. “hi, man. hope i didn’t wake you.”

jeno shrugged. “nah, i was just eating a delicious meal.” his gaze flicked to you with something too close to amusement.

you fought the urge to kick him in the balls. “so! you said something about... going out?” you blurted, trying to shift the topic.

“uh... yeah. a new amusement park opened up nearby. thought we could check it out.”

“sounds amazing! i’m in!” anything to get out of this situation.

“i’ll just… shower real quick,” you said, stepping back.

“i’ll put the flowers in water,” your boyfriend offered, heading toward the kitchen.

as soon as he disappeared, you turned to jeno and hissed, “are you insane?”

he chuckled. “i didn’t even do anything.”

“you’re standing there shirtless covered in hickeys i don’t even remember giving you!” you whisper-yelled.

“yeah you went a little crazy, who knew you wanted me this bad?”

you shot him a glare. “this isn’t funny.”

“it’s a little funny.”

you let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing your face. “god, you’re impossible.”

jeno leaned in just enough for you to feel the warmth of him. “wouldn’t be nearly as fun if i wasn’t.”

you shook your head and darted upstairs, pulse still racing. what the hell was your life right now?

you gave yourself only twenty minutes to get ready, worried about leaving your boyfriend alone with jeno for too long. god only knew what kind of things jeno might say if left unchecked. you quickly threw on a pair of high-waisted jeans and a knitted sweater, keeping it simple with just a swipe of lip gloss and a touch of mascara.

when you came downstairs, you found them sitting at opposite ends of the couch. jeno was scrolling through his phone, legs spread out, a bored look on his face. your boyfriend was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, glancing around as if searching for a conversation topic that didn’t involve glaring across the room.

“i’m ready,” you announced, trying to break the awkward tension hanging in the air. both boys looked up.

you noticed Jeno had changed into fitted jeans and a black t-shirt.

“i hope you don’t mind,” your boyfriend said, his smile too stiff to be genuine, “but i invited jeno to come with us.”

“what?” your head snapped to jeno, who didn’t even have the decency to look guilty.

“yeah,” jeno said, casually running a hand through his hair. “a few of my friends are heading there too, so i figured we could all hang out.”

“oh… how nice,” you muttered through clenched teeth. jeno just smirked, waiting for you to snap in front of your boyfriend but you held back, drawing in a calming breath and turning toward the door instead.

outside, your boyfriend wiped a tiny smudge off the driver’s side door of his car with meticulous care. jeno scoffed audibly.

your boyfriend paused, glancing over his shoulder. “jeno, do you have a car... or do you wanna ride with us?”

“my car’s in the shop,” Jeno replied without missing a beat.

“oh yeah? what do you drive?”

“a ’69 mustang fastback,” jeno said smoothly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

your boyfriend’s lips parted slightly. you knew he was impressed—he loved cars—and even if he tried to play it cool, the way his eyes widened gave him away. “that’s a classic. was it your dad’s?”

“nope.” jeno grinned. “saved up since high school and bought it myself at the barrett-jackson auction last year.”

your boyfriend’s eyebrows shot up. “that’s... actually really impressive.”

yeah, jeno thought, satisfaction bubbling in his chest. he lived for moments like this, when people looked at him like he was something special. he just couldn’t let it slip that his dad had footed most of the bill for the car’s custom work. it wasn’t like he asked for that help, but there was no way he was turning it down either. and he sure as hell wasn’t about to admit that in front of your boyfriend. not when the guy was looking at him with something close to respect. honestly, jeno kind of liked having that edge over him.

you could practically see the mental competition unfolding in front of you. jeno stood there like he’d just scored a point, while your boyfriend’s jaw tightened, clearly thinking of how to reclaim the upper hand.

“are you guys done with the dick-measuring contest, or should i grab a ruler?” you asked, arms crossed.

jeno laughed under his breath. your boyfriend glanced away, muttering, “yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

the ride was somehow worse than you expected. normally, when you’d ride with your boyfriend, the car was filled with pleasant conversation. he’d ask about your day and tell you about his… but now, with jeno in the backseat, the air felt suffocating. not even the faint music playing on the radio could ease your discomfort.

“were you sleeping before i came?” your boyfriend asked, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road.

you tensed. sleeping? far from it. you’d most definitely come before he arrived, and now your face burned with the memory. you shot a quick look over your shoulder at jeno, hoping to gauge if he was going to say something incriminating. he was scrolling through his phone, but the corner of his mouth curled up in that stupid smirk of his.

“uh… no,” you said, clearing your throat. “i couldn’t sleep very well last night, so i just had an early breakfast.”

“ah,” your boyfriend hummed. “and your parents are back sunday, right?”

“yeah,” you replied, grateful for the change in subject.

the silence that followed wasn’t comfortable. your boyfriend tapped the steering wheel rhythmically, occasionally glancing at you like he was expecting conversation but you were too busy trying not to spontaneously combust from how tense everything felt.

he reached over and turned on the car’s bluetooth. “let’s put on some music,” he muttered, scrolling through his playlist. he settled on a song, and you relaxed until you recognized the beat a split second before the lyrics started.

"thoughts of you keep me up at night..."

heat immediately started creeping up your neck. of all the songs... and of all the lyrics to play right now.

"i think about all of the ways you turn me on... and my bed gets lonely whenever you’re gone..."

you stiffened, eyes wide as you stared out the window. you could feel jeno’s gaze burning into the side of your face, and when you dared to glance back, you saw his eyes fixed on you, an eyebrow raised like this was the funniest thing to ever happen. your boyfriend, oblivious to the lyrical implications, simply tapped along to the beat.

you reached for the phone. “let’s put something else—”

“what? you don’t like this song?” your boyfriend asked, glancing at you with a smile.

“it’s… just—” you floundered. jeno chuckled under his breath.

“leave it,” Jeno said. “I think it’s pretty relatable.”

your boyfriend shot him a look through the rearview mirror probably wondering what he meant.

you squeezed your eyes shut, praying for the ground to swallow you whole. why did the drive feel like it was taking forever?

when you arrived at the amusement park, you were pleasantly surprised to see jenny and natty waiting near the entrance, drinks already in hand.

“we’re the masterminds behind this whole thing, by the way” jenny grinned, looping her arm through yours when you reached her.

“yeah,” Natty added, slipping in on your other side. “we told him he was an idiot for not doing something nice for you on saturday, so this is his redemption, and we’re here as the judges.”

the revelation should’ve surprised you—maybe even disappointed you—but it didn’t. things with your boyfriend had been...off lately. neither of you was really trying, and you couldn’t blame him for that when you weren’t putting in much effort yourself.

still, you plastered on a smile. this is supposed to be fun, you reminded yourself. and it was, you went on nearly every ride. your boyfriend, though, wasn’t a big fan of fast rides due to his motion sickness, and you didn’t miss the way jeno scoffed every time he turned down your suggestions to ride together.

you were heading toward the food stalls when something caught your eye. “ooh! let’s do that one!” you pointed to a shabby building draped in fake cobwebs and flickering lights. a crooked sign above the entrance read bloody encounter in dripping red letters.

jenny made a face. “why would you willingly do that to yourself?”

“come on,” you urged, tugging her arm. “it’ll be fun! i saw a video of it on instagram! it looks insane.”

“that’s exactly why i don’t want to go,” jenny shot back, glancing warily at the entrance.

natty, wide-eyed, whispered, “have you seen that movie where a group of friends goes into a haunted house, and there’s an actual killer inside?”

“that’s literally a movie,” you said, but your attempt at sounding confident fell flat when natty added, “it was based on real-life events.”

you rolled your eyes but glanced over your shoulder at your boyfriend trailing behind. he looked at the ride and grimaced.

“eh... i don’t know, babe,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “you know i hate this kind of stuff.”

you visibly deflated and before you could respond, another voice cut in. “i’ll go with you,” jeno said, stepping forward, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“I—” you started to object, nerves twisting in your stomach. jeno? alone? no way. that felt like walking into a trap. “weren’t you going to meet up with your friends?” you tried, hoping to backpedal.

“they texted that they got a flat on the way here, so it’ll be a while before they arrive” he shrugged.

“you two have fun,” jenny said, already pulling natty away. “we’ll grab food in the meantime.” natty threw you a look that screamed good luck before disappearing into the crowd.

your boyfriend lingered. “you sure you’re gonna be okay?” he asked, eyes darting to jeno, whose expression remained unreadable except for the subtle roll of his eyes.

“yeah,” you lied, forcing a reassuring smile. “i’ll be fine. see you in a bit.”

stepping through the entrance, you were swallowed by darkness. the air was thick with the artificial scent of fog machines and that weird plasticky smell of cheap props. distorted laughter and screams echoed through the narrow halls, looping over speakers that crackled with static.

beside you, jeno looked about as thrilled as someone waiting in line at the dmv. he glanced around, gaze skimming lazily over the walls. "spooky," he deadpanned.

"wow, you're really committing to the whole fun-hater thing," you shot back, glancing over your shoulder. you knew something was about to jump out, it was just a matter of when. "if you hate this so much, why'd you come?"

“figured your dumbass boyfriend wouldn’t,” he shrugged, mouth quirking into something between a smirk and a sneer. "someone had to make sure you didn’t cry."

“excuse me—”

BANG!

a hidden panel to your left slammed open and a clown with cracked white paint on its face and red bulging eyes lunged out, blaring a horn right in your face. your soul practically left your body as you screamed and instinctively grabbed onto the nearest thing which, unfortunately, was jeno.

he didn’t even flinch, his arm simply went around your shoulders, comforting you even as your heart tried to beat out of your chest. you looked up, breath catching when you met his gaze. his eyes flicked down to where you were clutching his hoodie before lifting back to yours.

you pushed away, but his hand didn’t fall away immediately. it trailed from your shoulder down to the small of your back, you felt his warmth seep through the fabric of your sweater.

"so," he drawled, "should i hold your hand for the rest of this?"

“i swear to god…”

“—because i don’t mind”

“keep talking and i’ll feed you to the next clown,” you shot back.

he snorted. "like you’d make it through this without me."

you flipped him off without looking back, which earned a low chuckle in response. you stalked ahead, determined to focus on not tripping over the uneven floor, but his footsteps stayed close behind. annoyingly close.

the mirror maze was where things went downhill. everywhere you turned, warped reflections of you and jeno stretched and twisted in the glass. dark shapes flickered just out of sight, and the speakers just made everything worse by echoing whispers that felt like they were breathing down your neck.

your reflection twisted, making your head look three times too big. jeno snorted. “look, they got your good side.”

“bite me” you said, peering around a corner. your reflection multiplied into a dozen versions of you, all looking equally pissed.

“tempting,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

jeno’s fingers suddenly wrapped around your wrist and he tugged you in the opposite direction.

“it’s this way,” he said.

“how would you know?”

“we’ve been stuck in here for like ten minutes,” he cut in. “you’re clearly not the best guide.”

you bit your tongue, resisting the urge to snap back.

jeno pointed at a door partially concealed by a tangle of fake cobwebs. “that’s gotta be the exit.”

“that looks deliberately hidden,” you said, eyeing it warily. something about it seemed off.

“well,” he shrugged, “either we try that or we keep wandering in circles. your call.”

fine. you followed him, trusting—against better judgment—that his instincts were better than yours.

they weren’t.

the door creaked open to reveal a forgotten section of the attraction with dust-covered boxes, broken props tossed in corners, and walls lined with peeling fake blood. the air smelled like damp cardboard and stale fog machine fluid.

“...okay,” he said, unfazed. “so not the exit.”

“wow. color me shocked.”

he shot you a look. “didn’t hear you coming up with better options.”

you rolled your eyes and turned back to the door. “whatever, let’s just—”

it didn’t budge. frowning, you tried again, putting more weight into it. nothing.

your pulse quickened. “uh... jeno?”

“what?”

“the door’s stuck.”

“just turn the handle—”

“i am!” frustration and panic crept into your voice. “i know how to open a damn door!”

“move.” he gently nudged you aside, grabbing the handle. he twisted while shoving his shoulder into it but the door held firm “...shit.”

your stomach dropped. this wasn’t funny anymore. “no, no, no… this can’t be happening.” you raked a hand through your hair.

jeno stepped back, scanning the room like there might be another way out. “it’s gotta be part of the attraction… like some escape room or…”

“yeah? you really think they’d make a whole escape room and hide it behind a side door that was clearly not supposed to be opened?” your voice cracked, breath coming quicker now.

he glanced at you, expression shifting. “hey.” his tone dropped, calmer. “don’t freak out.”

easy for him to say. your brain was already spiraling. you were locked in some creepy back room of a haunted house... with him.

you leaned back against the door, shutting your eyes as you tried to calm your racing heart.

“do you have your phone?” you asked, voice tight as you pushed away from the door and walked toward him.

he patted his back pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it up before showing the dead screen. “no battery.”

you let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing your temples. “of course.”

“the staff will probably notice we never came out,” he said, glancing around the dimly lit room. “they’ll be looking for us soon.”

“i didn’t even see anyone else besides that clown,” you muttered. “this is what i get for coming in here with you.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” his voice dropped a note lower, and when you looked up, he’d stepped closer. your back nearly hit the door again, tension sparking between you like static electricity.

“you’ve clearly upset some kind of energy around me, and that’s why all these things keep happening,” you snapped, trying to push away the sudden awareness of how little space there was between your bodies.

“are you being for real right now?” he chucked bitterly, dark eyes flicking to your lips for a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again. “you’ve been writing dirty fantasies about me for months but i’m the one somehow upsetting your energy?”

heat surged to your face, both from anger and embarrassment. “and that’s all they were! fantasies!” you shot back, voice rising. “i never wanted you to read those.” your breath came quicker. his proximity was messing with your ability to think straight.

“yeah?” he leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath. the playful glint in his eyes burned away, leaving something far more dangerous. “you say that like you didn’t mean every goddamn word.”

your fingers curled into fists at your sides. "is now really the time for this?"

“how come my presence didn't bother you when my mouth was between your legs?” he growled.

your hand shot up, ready to shove him away but he caught your wrist, pinning it above your head. your heart kicked into overdrive.

“not here,” you breathed, but it was weak, barely convincing.

“nobody’s around,” he rasped, chest flush against yours. “and you don’t really want me to stop.”

his lips dragged along your neck greedily, teeth scraping your skin before his tongue soothed the sting. your knees nearly gave out.

“jeno—fuck—we can’t,” you gasped, even as your hips arched toward him, desperate for friction.

“i’m sure i can make you cum before anyone shows up,” he promised, voice like rough velvet.

then he grabbed your thigh, hauling your leg around his waist and shoving his hips against you. the contact had you gasping, heat blooming everywhere at once. his grip was bruising, grounding you and shattering you all at once.

“you have no idea—” his breath was ragged, words spoken between gritted teeth, “—how fucking hard it was to sit back and watch you with him. i wanted to drag you away and remind you exactly whose tongue had you shaking mere hours ago.”

that snapped something inside you. your fingers twisted in his hair, pulling him in as his mouth crashed against yours. his hips rolled, grinding against you in rough motions that stole every coherent thought from your brain.

you should stop. you should care about where you were or the fact that your boyfriend was waiting for you outside, but the way he was touching you, kissing you, claiming you.

he pressed you hard against the wall, hands pulling at your sweater with urgency. the second it was off, his mouth was on you, sucking against the lace of your bra. his groan was barely controlled.

“fuck, so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words shaky. his gaze was hungry as he tore your bra off, his lips tracing the curve of your chest.

his mouth found your nipple, sucking hard. your back arched and a gasp slipped from you.

“god, perfect tits,” he growled. his hands were shaking now, and there was no control in his voice, just raw need.

without warning, he pulled your pants off, almost knocking you off balance. you barely steadied yourself before he turned you around, shoving you forward. Your hands gripped the wall for support, and you felt him push his erection against your ass.

“fuck, gonna make you feel so good. better than your fingers ever could. let me fill you up” he groaned, his voice desperate. you could feel how hard he was even through his jeans.

you bit your lip, refusing to let him have the satisfaction of knowing just how much you wanted him. before you could look back, his hand was on your jaw, turning your head to face forward.

“be good and i’ll let you look,” he growled, his breath hot against your ear.

he pulled your panties aside, the fabric stretching tight against you. it felt like it might snap any second, but before the thought could even settle, his finger was buried in your folds. the cool touch of his rings against your heat made you gasp, your body shuddering in response.

“oh god,” you mewled.

if your mind was clear enough to process anything, you’d laugh at how absurd this was. your fantasies, the ones you’d written about in your blog, were unfolding before your eyes, all within a day.

“barely even touched you, and you’re already dripping like this?” his voice was laced with amusement, though there was a growl beneath it.

“jeno, please don’t… tease me.” the words barely left your mouth, a plea you couldn’t hold back.

he smirked, his thumb brushing over your sensitive spot as he circled your clit. “i thought you were the one who didn’t want to do this here,” he taunted.

“please,” you whispered, barely able to form a coherent thought.

he chuckled, drawing another slow circle, teasing you, making you ache. every motion of his finger made your body respond, pushing your hips back instinctively. “so eager,” he muttered, his mouth hot against your shoulder.

his finger plunged inside you, and before you could adjust, another joined. he pulled them out slowly, spreading the slickness of your folds across your skin, making you squirm in desperation. you felt the pressure of his cock growing against your ass, and you clenched around his fingers, your walls yearning for more.

“ready for me, baby?” his voice was low, dark, almost a growl, and you nodded, mind too fogged to say anything.

he spread your legs wider, forcing you open for him, giving him better access. you felt the tip of his cock swipe against your folds, teasing the entrance, and you couldn’t help but steal a glance down. his pre-cum smeared against you, mixing with your slickness.

“when i’m done with you, you won’t even remember who came before me…” his words were gruff, hot against your hair.

and then, just like that, he thrust inside. you heard him inhale sharply as your gummy walls welcomed him, stretching around him, pulling him deeper. he felt thick, too thick, and you weren’t sure if he was all the way in, but the fullness was overwhelming. his body pushed against yours, your legs trembling under the weight of him, but he wasn’t stopping.

one hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as jeno continued to push deeper. your moans grew louder, and with each thrust your inhibition was slipping away. it felt too good to care about being caught, to think about anything else but the feeling of being so full.

but then, just as you were losing yourself completely, the sound of footsteps and distant voices jerked you back to reality.

“guys, they probably already came out,” you recognized jenny’s voice, and you froze.

“y/n isn’t picking up her phone,” your boyfriend’s voice followed, too close, so close you could practically feel him in the room.

you pushed weakly against jeno, trying to make him pull out, but he wasn’t paying attention. instead, he thrust into you again, harder, his cock pressing into you so deeply that you bit your tongue to hold back the moan threatening to slip out.

“that’s cause i have it,” natty’s voice rang out, innocently. “she gave it to me when she went on the roller coaster earlier.”

jeno’s hand moved to cover your mouth, muffling the sounds you couldn’t stop from escaping. he continued to pound into you, relentless, while pulling you flush against his chest, his pace steady but punishing. panic clawed at your throat as your breath quickened.

“when were you gonna tell us that...?” jenny’s voice sounded sharp, you could even picture the scowl that came with it.

“did you try jeno?” your boyfriend asked, the concern in his tone making the situation even more unbearable.

“we don’t have his phone number,” natty replied casually.

“i do,” Jenny said, her voice almost sheepish.

jeno’s hips stuttered for a brief moment, the pace slowing as he briefly pulled away from you. you thought he was stopping but before you could even react, he spun you around, forcing you to face him. his forehead glistened with sweat, his lips swollen from how hard he’d bitten them, his breath labored.

“what? since when?” natty asked, her voice sounding confused but amused.

“i stole it from y/n’s phone,” jenny muttered quickly. “don’t tell her, though.”

before you could even process her words, jeno thrust back into you, pressing you into the wall with each brutal stroke. the wall rattled violently with every movement and you could barely form the words to warn him.

“j-jeno, stop… they… they’re gonna hear us,” you gasped. your whole body felt like it was being torn apart in the best way, but the fear of being caught made it impossible to enjoy it fully.

“let them,” he growled against your ear, his grip tightening on your waist. “let your boyfriend know i’m the only one who can make you cum.”

you couldn’t help the loud whimper that came out when he said that.

“did you guys hear that?” your boyfriend’s voice rang out, sharp with suspicion.

your eyes widened in sheer panic, your body stiffening around jeno. but instead of stopping, he only smirked, still buried deep inside you. the bastard was enjoying this.

his hand trailed down, fingers finding your clit, and the second he started rubbing tight circles, your head lolled back involuntarily. another strangled whimper escaped before you could stop it. the feeling of his fingers working you over while he continued driving into you relentlessly had you seeing white.

“what?” natty asked, her voice tinged with unease.

jeno didn’t stop, his movements staying controlled except for the way his breath hitched when your walls fluttered around him. his lips parted slightly, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he fought to keep from moaning out loud.

“it sounded like… a person?” your boyfriend said, his voice closer now.

your head snapped up in terror, eyes locking onto jeno’s, silently pleading with him to stop. but he wasn’t even looking at you. his teeth were digging into his lower lip, dark eyes fixed on where your bodies were joined, watching the way he disappeared inside you over and over again.

“it’s probably just the scary audio replaying on the speakers,” Jenny suggested.

“and that rattling sound?”

jeno’s eyes flicked up at that, finally registering your panic. without pulling out, he wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted you off the wall effortlessly, carrying you a few paces away before pressing you down onto an old, dusty table.

before you could even think to protest, he shoved your knees up and entered you again, deeper this time, making you arch off the surface with a muffled cry. your teeth sank into the flesh of your hand to keep the noises in.

the table creaked with each sharp thrust, dust kicking up into the air around you. tears pricked your eyes, whether from pleasure, mortification, or both, you weren’t sure.

“maybe rats or something,” jenny suggested, her voice fading as she moved further away. “who cares? let’s just go. they’re not here anymore.”

the moment the voices started retreating, jeno leaned over you.

“we almost got caught,” he whispered, his teeth grazing your earlobe “...and you’re still fucking dripping around me.”

you didn't even get to feel embarrassed by his words because soon he was already moving again harder, deeper, like he needed to make up for the interruption. the table kept creaking under the force of his thrusts, and your fingers scrambled for something to hold onto.

when you looked down, your breath hitched at the sight of his cock drilling into you over and over, slick coating both of you in a wet mess. you were mesmerized by the sharpness of his hip bones, the way his veins bulged with every flex of his muscles.

you wanted to touch. you needed to.

your fingers twitched with the urge. why is he still so covered? you’d seen him shirtless before, had spent far too long secretly admiring the cut of his abs, but seeing and feeling were entirely different. you wanted to feel them ripple under your hands, to feel the heat of his skin against your palms.

driven by that need, you pushed up on your elbows, reaching for the hem of his shirt. he didn’t stop you, just watched with dark eyes and parted lips as you dragged the fabric up, exposing smooth skin and the taut muscles beneath. your fingers splayed over his stomach, feeling how hard he was clenching, how his body responded to you.

jeno tensed the moment your hands made contact with his skin, a sharp inhale hissing through his teeth. his hips faltered for a second before slamming back into you with even more force. your breath stuttered, and when you looked up, his eyes were already locked onto yours, pupils blown wide with something wild.

suddenly, he leaned forward and his lips crashed into yours, all-consuming. a deep grunt rumbled from his chest as he licked into your mouth, greedy and desperate, sucking at your tongue like he couldn’t get enough of your taste. you gasped, clutching at his shoulders, your fingers digging into the sweaty skin under his shirt.

he groaned against your lips, voice ragged. “you—” another thrust, deeper this time, knocking the air from your lungs. “—are driving me fucking crazy.”

you felt your orgasm building fast, your breath catching as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach. words tumbled out of your mouth, barely coherent, dissolving into soft gasps as your body clenched around him. jeno moaned against your lips, his hand sliding back to your chest, fingers toying with your nipple. his hips didn’t slow, driving into you with almost manic thrusts that had your head spinning.

“fuck, i’m close,” he breathed out, voice rough in your ear. “where do you want it?”

you blinked through the pleasure, brain too sluggish to register the question. when it did, warmth flooded your cheeks. you were on the pill and the thought of him stuffing you up with his cum, just like you’d written about, made your walls flutter instinctively. “inside,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

jeno’s jaw flexed, his gaze darkening. “yeah?” his pace quickened, rougher now, his lips brushing against your neck. “couldn’t wait for me to fill you up, hm?” his words melted into a groan when you clenched around him.

“jeno—i—” the rest of the sentence dissolved into a cry as your orgasm crashed over you violently. your body arched into him, trembling.

he wasn’t far behind. you felt his rhythm stutter before warmth flooded you, his hips pressing deep as he let out a low, drawn-out moan. his lips found yours again, kissing you slowly, even as both of you tried to catch your breath.

when he finally pulled back, his gaze held yours for a while. you wanted to ask what he was thinking, but the words stuck in your throat.

you felt him slip out of you along with the slow drip of hia cum trailing down your thighs. he reached for your discarded underwear, swiping it between your legs with surprising gentleness before, without hesitation, tucking it into his back pocket.

“hey—” you started to protest, but the look he shot you shut you up fast. apparently, those were his now.

a few quiet minutes passed, both of you fixing your clothes, when the door groaned open. you flinched as an older staff member peeked in, eyes widening upon spotting you two.

“what on earth are you two doing in here?”

you quickly stepped forward, feigning wide-eyed innocence. “so sorry, sir! we got lost trying to find the exit, and then the door jammed. thank you for helping us”

“yeah. where’s the way out?” jeno added, right behind you.

“just head left twice. you’ll see the exit sign.” the man shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he waved you off.

“thanks again!” you called, already pulling jeno with you. once outside, the cool night air hit your flushed skin, and you wrapped your arms around yourself with a shiver.

“if we’d followed my directions,” you said, glancing sideways at him, “we would’ve been out a while ago.”

jeno’s jacket appeared over your shoulders before you could argue further. “yeah,” he smirked, eyes glinting under the neon lights. “but then we wouldn’t’ve had all that fun, would we?”

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3 my inbox is always open for any feedback about the fic or if you just wanna talk

support me here if you want (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[mahgyu]

Shiu smut + N$FW audio

• minors do not interact!

──── In Shiu's eyes, you were a goddess. And if your neglectful boyfriend, Toji, didn't treat you as such, Shiu would gladly fulfill that role.

Your moans echoed throughout the room as Shiu's tongue roamed your vulva. One of the man's hands firmly gripping your exposed breasts while your eyes rolled back feeling Shiu simulate a thrust with their tongue at your tight entrance.

Your fingers gripped the black strands of his nape as the male hands descended now to grasp your quivering thighs. Fingers sinking into your sensitive skin, Shiu's agile tongue snapped loudly as it explored every inch of your needy intimacy.

"Ugh... Shiu~" You called out in a plea, lifting your partially naked torso to look at him. The dark deeply hypnotic eyes granted you attention, that sensual gaze making you wet within seconds. "Toji will be back soon, y-you have to go..." You cautioned, practically struggling to resist Shiu's intoxicating touch.

In response, Shiu held you even tighter between his hands, inching his face away from your needy area. "Don't talk about your little boyfriend while I eat your pussy, doll." Kong's pink moist lips formed a smirk before he returned his attention to your intimacy.

Your relationship with Toji was not on the best way, often feeling like he used you as a toy only for his moments of boredom. Today, for instance, Toji had agreed to spend the whole day with you, but the disappointing reality came to light when you found out through Shiu that he had gone out to gamble again. But despite feeling neglected in your own relationship, you still felt terrible for cheating on Toji with his own friend, even though Shiu gave you the attention that Toji never even bothered to give you.

"We both know he doesn't deserve you, sweetie" Shiu said, dragging his wet lips along the inside of your thighs. "He shows you off like you're an accessory, but doesn't even care to truly take care of you" Shiu's face quickly turned dark and serious, his slightly wet hair covering his forehead. "Toji doesn't know how to appreciate the queen he has by his side, my love." As painful as it was to hear those words, it still felt so good to be appreciated like that by someone.

"But, we're acting wrong... Hmm, shit! " You said, trying to control yourself from fucking your needy pussy against Shiu's face who just laughed mockingly at your protest and moved closer to your pussy again.

"I wonder what his reaction would be if he saw us like this. Would he learn how to treat you properly?" Shiu said, dismissing other thoughts, leaving a chaste kiss on your sensitive and swollen clit. "I'd love to see the look on that jerk's face watching another man devour his girlfriend's needy pussy" He needled, staring at you.

Shiu sucked your clit hard, hungrier, more ravenous, delighting in your tearful moans that escaped straight from your throat. "Let me enjoy your sweet little pussy just a bit longer, doll, I promise it'll be worth it in the end." You felt Shiu's hot tongue slickening you up more as he promptly inserted two fingers into your needy and slippery hole. Your eyes rolled with the intrusion, Shiu's name repeatedly falling from your lips in the form of a moan, causing him to grunt. "Let me take care of you, my goddess."

⠀

⠀

Shiu's version! I'm curious to know what you guys think. 🤭

Any other character suggestions? Tell me.

Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome. 🫶🏻💕

[dilf-docs]

It Always Leads To You

dbf!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

cr: divider by @kodaswrld / gif @tomshiddles

[illum1z]

confess to me

counselor!song mingi x f!reader

tags: sensitive topics on religion, coercion, praise, loss of innocence, pet names (pretty baby, lamb, love, etc.) corruption, unprotected sex(yikes), religious guilt, pleasure dom mingi, oral (f! receiving), cheating, eye contact, mentions of breeding, talking you through it, NOT PROOFREAD. (Like at all, sorry for any spelling mistakes)

summary: You would do anything to relieve this dark, invasive feeling in your soul. absolutely anything.

wc: 7.3k

“in the crooks of your body, I find my religion.”

track list- gibson girl, glory box, the death of peace of mind

Frankly, from the beginning, you thought it was out of the ordinary. And you had to give yourself credit for the fact that this was indeed your last resort.

For the past 10 years, you’ve struggled with a deep-seated shame in yourself. Growing up sheltered and with a family that valued innocence and chastity. Basically, celibacy was the only way to live your life without sin. While being raised that way was damaging on its own, after having left the church once you got out on your own, it followed you. The guilt...

It was instilled at a young age that anything along the lines of adultery is sinful and is to be utterly ashamed of. And even though those ideals are not ones you wholeheartedly live by anymore, ideas that you lived with for such a long time tend to stick. Old habits die hard, you guess.

So when you had your very first boyfriend, a young, kind, smart guy you had met in your public speaking class, you thought this was your chance. To break through and not let the chains of the past hold you back from experiencing new things.

When you guys had your first kiss, it went fine. He respected your boundaries, made sure to understand that you were kind of fragile. To be careful with you. You can't ask for better. But one issue is that he never ever tried anything further than kissing. You two could make out for hours, and it never progressed any further than that. On one hand, you were relieved that you didn't have to put yourself out there like that so soon, but at the same time, you wondered if you just didn't see yourself in that way. Maybe he didn’t find you pretty enough for sex. Or maybe intimacy just wasn't his thing. You came up with every excuse in the book. Some for yourself on why you won’t just ask him, and some for him as to why he never initiated. This went on for a year. A whole year of dating and not once touching each other.

You felt disgusting. Something must be wrong with you. Your boyfriend never even once suggested anything sexual. It felt like it was all you. You felt perverted, like all you were thinking about was sex. You’d touch yourself at night while he was on his computer, working in the other room. Your pillow in your mouth as you bit to muffle your noises while your fingers explored your body. Every time after you were done, a strong and hot feeling of dirtiness and guilt washed over you as you realized what you had done. Touching the rosary on your neck as you stared into the ceiling, breathing heavily, a prayer in the back of your mind raced by as you tried to calm yourself. The sacred jewelry on your neck was a gift from your mother. Something that even though held sick memories and painful reminders, it was just too familiar, and you wouldn't dare part with it.

“I'm not doing anything wrong. This is normal. I'm okay. It's okay. “ But you became addicted, touching yourself until it hurt. Until it burned, but it was never enough. Lust was becoming a drug, and each dose you amped it up, but it never was the high you were searching for.

You decided that after this had been going on for too long, you needed help. You could never tell your boyfriend. You’d be humiliated, and he’d find you repulsive. You searched all over online for a solution to this problem. Sex counselors were a thing, maybe they could help.

Nothing online was helping, article after article. Website after website. It was feeding you all the same redundant information, and none of it was settling the constant disturbance in your gut. You'd find yourself twirling your necklace again, leg bouncing from anxiety. You needed to be somewhere familiar. Somewhere that might ease you.

Slipping on some clothes and gathering your things, you walked out of your room, walking to your boyfriend as he sat at his desk, like always, typing away. You pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead and smiled.

“I'm going out for a little. I’ll be home later.” He gripped your hand a kissed the back of it, squeezing it gently.

“See you later, hun, love you.” He smiled up at you. It felt mocking, even though he meant completely well. He let go, and you walked out the front door. Making your way to your car.

You didn’t know where you were driving, but you were going somewhere. It was like your mind was on autopilot. Your brain clocked out, and your body took you where you wanted to go.

You blinked and found yourself parked at the cathedral you had frequented your whole life. Standing tall and sharp against the stark contrast of the orange and purples that littered the sky as the sun descended behind the steeple. The wind blew softly, and the streets seemed oddly empty for a Sunday night. The stained glass windows called out a whispering “welcome home” as you stepped out of your car and stared at the beautiful building in front of you. The wind started to become harsher nd began to bite at your skin with the cold. You walked up to the front entrance, purpose in your step as you ascended the stairs and slipped past the doors as quietly as you could.

Immediately, the comfort of silence enveloped you like a warm blanket. The tall ceilings with beautiful murals scrawled on them. Giant glass windows with depictions of different moments in history cast blue, green, and red lights from the setting sun on the altar. And next to it, tucked away in a dark corner in the front of the room. The confessional. An all too familiar space to you. You forced yourself to drag your eyes away from it as you stepped further into the space, heading for the very first row of pews. You looked around, the church completely empty and the definition of quiet. Just the soft blow of the wind outside. You sat in the first row of pews, taking a moment to just take it all in. You felt safe, clean, and forgiven in here. You sat in that pew for what felt like hours, just basking in the quiet. When you looked around again, you noticed it had gotten dark outside. The moon shone through the windows. The candles by the altar were the only light in the whole building, casting an eerie orange glow about the church.

And there was one candle in the confessional. It shone like a quiet soul inside that wooden box, seeping through the intricate carved designs on the door. You felt a small tug on your heart, like it was asking to go, to unload all the thoughts and emotions plaguing you. Let them spill free, unabashedly, somewhere to feel forgiven.

So you followed it and walked to the confessional, opening the door with a creak and sitting on the bench. You shut the door behind you, and it seemed like the world around you faded away, within the quietness of the booth. You immediately had the urge to just start talking. To get these things off your chest.

You talked about your guilt. You talked about your sadness. You talked about your lust, how it was plaguing you all the time. How you felt like your boyfriend didn’t actually love you, and how you felt like a pervert for always wanting to feel good. How it hurts to not feel good. Another 30 minutes spent in the booth trickled by before you decided you needed to head home. You stood, before bowing your head. Old habits die hard, like you said. A prayer you remembered began to flow past your lips with the ease of muscle memory. Hands clasped around the rosary and eyes shut tight.

“Merciful Lord, I come before You seeking forgiveness and healing for the sin of lust that dwells within me. I confess my weakness in giving in to impure desires and indulging in lustful thoughts and actions that offend You. Purify my heart, renew my mind, and sanctify my body as Your temple.”

You continued until the prayer was finished. You dropped your hands and turned, opening the door and stepping out.

But as soon as you did, you looked up from the knob and locked eyes with someone. A chill tickled down your spine as you stared past the altar, at a man sitting in the first pew, exactly where you sat for hours before. Wearing a tight, barely fitting sheer white button-up shirt, black pants, and sharp black shoes. His hair was slightly tousled yet still professional in a way. He was hunched over, elbows resting on knees as his hands came up, pressed together like he was praying, the tips of his fingers pressed against his lips. His head was tilted slightly down, while his eyes stayed up, locked directly onto yours.

Your breath hitched, and he didn’t move a muscle. His eyes bore into yours, the orange glow of the candlelight flickered across his features beautifully, and you couldn't look away. You felt small under his gaze as he pinned you down with his stare effortlessly.

Who is that? Why is he here? How long has he been here? Did he somehow hear me?

His hand twitched, then he moved it down, before fully turning his head. He narrowed his eyes. He smiled. He waved.

You felt a lurch in your stomach. He was unbelievably handsome, with the mole under his eye. The charming way his crooked teeth formed the most beautiful smile. The borderline [predatory look in his eyes. He stood and began to walk towards you.

Immediately, you stood up straight and made sure you took a couple of steps away from the confessional, as if you were too close, you would start spilling secrets.

He was right in front of you now, smiling down as the closer got, the smaller you felt.

“Evenin’, I'm sorry, thought I was the only one here tonight, I hope I wasn’t bothering you.” He had a deep, baritone drawl in his voice that felt like ice on your brain. This was not good. Not good at all.

“No, no, you’re completely fine, it's not like I own the place, I was just… visiting.” You smiled nervously, your palms sweating. Even though you were just conversing with one person, you felt like you had millions of eyes on you in the dark, empty church. His gaze alone was already so intense, the ghosts of former church goers seemed to stare at you as if you moved, the floor would cave underneath you.

His eyes traced your body, just for a flicker of a second, you didn’t catch. He caught your gaze again, taking a small barley there step closer to you. His hand rested lazily in his pants pocket. His other hand reached forward to offer a handshake.

“Song Mingi. I'm a counselor at the cathedral. It's a pleasure to meet you, sweet thing.” You smiled as you hesitated, but ultimately brought your hand up to shake his.

“(Name), nice to meet you, Mingi sir.” His hand wrapped around yours, easily swallowing your entire hand up as he shook it firmly, lingering just a little too long.

“So what brings you here so late at night (Name)? Can’t be anything good, right?” He laughs and nudges your shoulder playfully, a little glint of joy in his eyes. While mostly an overwhelming and intense presence, he sure knew how to soften the armospehete.

You smiled softly and shook your head. “Just… feeling a little weird lately, just thought maybe a visit to somewhere familiar might ease me a little.”

He tilted his head, and his eyes softened as he tsked. “What's going on, if you don’t mind me asking. I am a counselor after all, maybe I can give you some advice.” His smile was genuine, and he seemed like he really just wanted to lift your spirits.

“Well..” You bit your bottom lip, worried, before sitting on the red velvet stairs, resting your forehead on your knees as you hugged them. Mingi followed, sitting on the step a couple below yours, looking up at your face with genuine curiosity all over his face. You took note of the clunky rosary wrapped around his neck, the crucifix sitting directly between his rather protruding pecs that pressed through the thin fabric of his shirt. You tried not to stare too much.

“Its, hard… for me to talk about. I had just been feeling strange lately. Like I can't find rest within myself. I thought maybe coming by my childhood church and just spilling my guts in the confessional would help, but it's just made me realize that what I'm feeling and thinking is REAL. And not just… I don’t know. I feel like there's some kind of animal in me that just won't sleep. I can't even sleep. I'm always anxious, always guilty, and I somehow can’t even get my boyfriend to validate me when I’m feeling-” Imedicualty, your eyes widened, and you slapped a palm over your mouth in embarrassment, a heat trickling up the back of your neck.

“Sorry.” You whispered. “I started rambling..” You were too out of it to notice that Mingi’s hand had been silently and ever so softly grazing up and down your calf, as if trying to soothe you through this confession.

“You’re perfectly fine, sweetheart. Thank you for feeling alright with telling me.” His hand gave your calf a small squeeze before slipping away from your leg, back on the stairs.

“It sounds like you’re going through a lot right now. You sound tired, so let me tell you something.” You were still looking down from shame, and he softly btoguht his hand up and tilted yout chin upward so he could look into your eyes. That intense stare of his pinning you down like a fawn in headlights, you felt like you were coevred in a warm, heavy weighted blanket, like even if you tried to run away, your wouldnt be able to.

“My doors are always open to counseling sessions.” He points to a door behind the altar. “Over there is a door to my office. By the confessional. I’m here every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday from 4 to 10, accepting walk ins. If you’d like you can come back and we can try to explore these feelings deeper and see if we can work on getting you some well needed relief.”

You felt a flutter in your stomach at his kindness, but also at the seemingly suggestive way he chose to express his words. Maybe you were really in need of professional help, he was trying to help you, for God’s sake. You nodded, and your eyes flicked to his nose, to his lips, to his chest, back up to his eyes. You felt like you had been caught, a small flicker of something in his eyes, his body shifted slightly, a small pink tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“That sound alright princess?” You took a second, mulling over your thoughts. This could really benefit you. This could fix the unrest in your heart. Fix your relationship with your boyfriend, with yourself.

“I'll stop by.” You smiled, nodding your head once as if in confirmation. “Thank you for listening to me.”

His grin widened and he dropped his voice down to a low whisper, coming a little closer to where you could feel his breath on your ear, his warm, woodsy scent wrapping around you, filling you with him.

“It's my job, sweetheart, no need to thank me.” Now, you may not know too much about people, but one thing you just barely caught was a slight twitch in his soft smile, like his lips wanted to smile wider, but he stopped himself. A look in his eyes that held a secret. A desire. It was odd, you felt so safe and comforted in his presence, it was almost eerie how easy it was to get you to spill to him like that.

I mean, you walked out of the confessional, and he was sitting in your spot, staring at you like he was going to eat you. That should have unnerved you from the beginning, which it did. But something was so alluring. So tantalizing and bewitching about him. Just a few words from his pretty plump lips, and if he had asked for your soul, you’re sure you would have given it to him.

You left, turning around to look at the church. The steeple seemed sharper against the stark black sky. The streets were even quieter, the air colder. The building seemed more haunted than holy now, but before you psyched yourself out, you got back in your car and drove home.

It had been a week since your visit to a church. If you weren’t going to hell before, you were certainly going now. Every night, the same routine continued, but this time, you were imagining him. Mingi, tracing your curves and kissing your skin. Mingi, reaching inside you and caressing your insides in a way so invasive it should be considered immoral. You wanted him pressing his body into yours, his warmth soaking into your skin as he pleasured you in ways you imagined heaven should feel like.

Just sick in the head.

There was no way you could go see him now, with these images of him squeezing your body and rolling his hips, mouth agape and eyes rolling and boring into yours in a fashion that felt like he knew your entire being.

You slept next to your boyfriend every night, not even daring to cuddle with him in fear that even just by touching, he could feel the want and the lust seeping from your skin.

And that's how you found yourself in your car, back at the church. The streets are empty again. The sky had opened on your way there, the clouds angry and dark, fat droplets of rain pouring fast on the streets.

Your hands gripped the steering wheel so hard it began to burn, but you didn’t let go. You were trying to ground yourself before you walked into the church and saw him. You needed to get a hold of yourself. With a couple of bites to your palm and a cold sip of water. You rushed out of your car and walked with purpose to the church quickly as not to give yourself time to chicken out and go back home.

You entered the church, albeit soaked to the bone from the rain. It felt darker and colder now. The candles cast flickering, dark shadows on the walls. Behind the altar was his office door. Standing tall and mocking, you pinched your necklace and took a deep breath before making your way to his door.

The carpet swallowed your footsteps as you walked to his door, past the confessional, the urge to tell secrets welling up in your chest again. You stopped in front of his door, a soft light emanating from the crack at the bottom. Your hand hovered over the knob.

“Come in.” The muffled voice beckoned behind the door. You obeyed.

Twisting the knob you opened the door with a quiet creak. Inside was a broad, beautiful mahogany desk, littered with papers, candles, and an assortment of Bibles. A large painting of Mother Mary was mounted on the wall directly behind the chair behind the desk, where Mingi sat. The first 2 buttons of his shirt were undone, and he leaned back lazily as his foot rested on his knee. His hand was on the table, his fingers resting in between stacks of paper, caressing the edge of the paper ever so slowly, occasionally slipping between sheets.

His eyes caught yours immediately, smiling as he gestured to the chair in front of him. A large velvety red and blue couch was against the left wall, and tall, gold-plated mirror was on the right. His eyes were darker tonight. Narrowed. Filled with… intention. 3 candles lit up the room, providing minimal light to properly see his face.

“(Name), it's good to see you again.” You sat in the chair, feeling his voice rumble in your chest as a roll of thunder sounded in the distance. He laughed gently before flashing that charming grin of his at you.

“Guess you got caught in the rain, huh?” The teasing lilt in his voice sent a little shock wave through your head, suddenly aware that you were still, in fact, soaking wet.

“Yeah it just started pouring as soon as I left, I considered d turning around.” You smiled in an attempt to hide your nervousness, before he reached across and took your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

“Well, for what its worth, I’m glad you wanted to be here so bad you came anyway.” Confusion shot through tou but before you could even react he pulled away and cleared his throat.

“Now then, let's start unpacking this, yeah?” He waves his hand at you and smiles.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me everything that's on your mind.” You blinked. Once. Twice.

Oh god…

“Well..” You shifted in your seat. This was it. You were here for a reason. No time to be shy, this is how you get the help you’ve been needing. But his presence is so heavy… it was overwhelming your senses. The whole office smelled like him. The air was thick, and the atmosphere was dark. It felt like the painting was watching you. He was watching you. Picking you apart with his eyes, carefully.

“I’ve got this suffocating guilt that's been following me for what seems like years. As a kid, I was sheltered, being part of the church kept me away from much outside influence, and frankly, I feel like it's messed me up a bit, in a way… I don't know how to explain it. Anyway, so I get out, right? Out in the world by myself. I’m doing okay, learning new things and trying to work the world without the influence of the church holding me back.” You stop and smile, a little lost in your thoughts as you think about old memories.

“Then I meet my first boyfriend. Hes really sweet, smart, kind. Kind of the complete package kind of guy.” Too busy lost in your story, you failed to see how Mingi’s grip on his knee tightens, how his jaw clenches and how his eyes rove over you like you’ll disappear if he looks away for one second, enamoured.

“How’s that going?” Mingi asks softly, “Sounds like a pretty awesome guy.” There it is. He sees the change in your demeanor. The way your shoulder slumps, the burning shame in your eyes. The slight readjustment of your posture.

“Well, that's just the thing. He's great and all, a really good guy. But, he doesn’t seem… interested…” You refuse eye contact as you trail off, beginning to close up again. You can feel the heat crawling up your back as you know in a second the conversation is about to take an incredibly inappropriate and soul-baring turn.

“Interested in what love? Cmon, talk to me.” he comes over from behind the desk and squats down in front of you as you stay sitting in the chair, so he can look at you eye level. His hands rested on his knees, and he spoke even softer now that he was closer. “You can trust me. Let me help you.”

Mingi was so close now, and he was making it so hard for you not to just straight up start acting like an animal in heat with that look he was giving you. He was trying to pull the secrets from your throat with his eyes. Like a fish hook in your mouth, he was prying you open to him, and you just simply couldn’t resist

“I… fuck okay. Fine. I feel so gross because he won’t make any sexual advances towards me, and it's been over a year of dating. Yes, it's unbecoming, and it makes me feel so sick that all I seem to crave is for him to touch me. I'm so ashamed it's all I think of every day and every night, and we’ve never gone any farther than kissing. I feel like I'm missing out on so much because of my lack of knowledge, but I also feel like it's better for me to just never know. It's sick and it's hurting! It–it hurts me to know that it's not okay to feel good like.. That..” Silence fell, your eyes glued to your lap.

You slowly raise your eyes, ready to see the disappointment in Mingi’s face at your shameful confession.

Instead, a small smile, barely there, tilts up the corners of his lips. You glue your eyes to the rosary on his chest as you feel the deep, baritone chuckle that slips past his lips. The shame burned. You won’t look at him.

“Y’know. I’m going to tell you a secret, okay?” You felt a finger pinch your chin gently, before he directed your gaze at his, dropping them before they landed on your knees.

“What you are feeling? Is okay. I promise.” His voice was soft and promising, words dripping in sugar as he began to drag his big, calloused palms up and down… up and down… your thighs soothingly through your pencil skirt.

Your breath hitched, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. “Your boyfriend, not touching you, has nothing to do with you physically. You’re beautiful, I can promise you that.” You felt that warmth envelop you again from when he whispered in your ear. That deeep pull in your lower stomach that burned.

“In fact, I could even go as far as to say you’re very alluring. So small, soft, like a lamb.” Daringly, his hands slipped further up, now resting on your hips, like they were made to fit there.

He knew what he was doing. The dangerous look in his eyes swelling as he watched you slowly melt as his words sat in your skull.

“I’ll confess it now, I heard everything you said in the booth last week.” his voice was now a whisper, gentle like he would scare you off. He felt your body jolt like you’d run from him, and his hands held your hips tighter, holding you down onto the chair only slightly, like it was a suggestion that you should stay, his thumbs rubbing slow, soft circles into your stomach.

“I heard every word. Every cry. Every plea. Every prayer that this feeling could be relieved for you. You were so pretty coming out of the booth. Little tear droplets on your lashes and embarrassment all over your body. I knew you needed help.”

Mingi sank to his knees, so close to your body you could feel and smell every inch of him all over you. His hands moved up and gently cupped your face, guiding your head down so he could mumble in your ear.

He breathed quietly for a second before blowing a cold gust of air on your ear, making you shiver. “Let me help you, precious. Let's drag that feeling out. Let me drag it out of you.”

“If anyone can make you feel good in a way that’ll satiate the craving inside of you, it’s me. I can take care of you. Treat you like the angel you are. Does that sound good.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your hair, his hand mindlessly massaging your leg. “I promise.” He was whispering now, barely contained desire seeping from his gentle, coaxing words. “Don’t you trust me?”

Your brain was so fuzzy. Was this happening? Was he offering to take care of you in the way you’ve been crazy about? The one your boyfriend won’t give you. Maybe it’ll clear the nasty thoughts out of your head. Make the hysteria go away.

“Cmon baby…” He was all over you now, standing, towering over you as he leaned down, one hand on either side of your chair. You followed his gaze up and stared into his eyes. His rosary dangled right above your chest, almost touching it. It swung back and forth back and forth, hypnotically. His hand gripped the armrests tightly, like he was stopping himself from ripping you apart with his bare hands.

You looked so good, so delicious, so pure. He’d love to be the one to introduce you to the wonderfully sinful world of pleasure, to drown you in the feeling himself. To give himself to you.

“Let's get it out of your system, yeah? I can fix you, angel.”

Testing the waters, he leaned further down, his breaths mixing with yours, keeping you caged in, his eyes never leaving yours. It felt like you stayed like that forever. Lips millimeters from touching, tension in the air crackling.

You had never felt this way before. Your body ached, and your lower stomach throbbed with what could only be described as need.

All it took was the small, slight parting of your lips before Mingi finally pressed into you. His plushy lips sinking into yours like they were meant to be there. His eyes stayed on you, watching and guaging your reaction to the touch, only when your eyes fluttered close and you whined softly into his mouth did he really let himself go.

Pressing himself impossibly closer against you, his hands left the arm rests and threaded through your hair before gripping gently and completely swallowing you whole with his mouth. His tongue delved deep, tracing patterns in your mouth and moving against you in ways that had you groaning deep into him.

He swallowed your sounds gratefully, a loud crack of thunder nearly shaking the room. One candle blew out.

It wasn’t enough. He needed more of you. He needed to consume you. Even though it hurt, he pulled away from your mouth, panting softly as he watched the trail of saliva snap between you. He stared at your glassy eyes and pink lips, groaning to himself as he stood up and started to undo his tie.

“Alright, princess, I need you to take off your skirt and go lie on your back on that couch over there, okay? Can you do that for me?” Taking a second to break out of your stupor, you nodded and stood up, slipping the skirt and pantyhose off your legs before complying and lying on the couch. Mingi strode over, his tie gone and his shirt completely unbuttoned, a filthy, hungry look in his eyes. Rosary hanging proudly around his neck.

Gently, like he was still afraid to scare you. He laid between your legs on the couch. He planted his head directly between your thighs, his big hands slipping under your thighs and guiding them upward around his head, before spreading his big hand directly over your lower abdomen. His other hand slipped down and teased your soaking wet cunt through your panties.

Mingi stared into your eyes from between your legs and breathed in your scent deeply.

“You’re gonna taste so sweet fa me, aren't you angel?” Your head lolled at the sweet words, he just knew how to break you down and turn you into a puddle in his hands.

“All for me…” he mumbled completely to himself as he dragged your panties down your thighs and off your legs. He couldnt pull his eyes away from your pretty pussy. You felt so bare, so exposed, shying away, you tried to close your legs, but of course, his head was in the way.

“Don’t be ashamed, pretty girl.” He rubbed gentle circles on your thighs again before letting out a quick, quiet whistle. “Look at me, {Name}.”

Your head snapped to him, eyes locked with his, his gaze so intense you felt your eyes water, and a whimper bubbles up from your chest. He kisses your thighs softly, before hovering his mouth over your cunt, letting his breath fan over her gently.

“I want your eyes on me while I eat, okay? I need to see what you like, baby.” He’s going to read your body. You shivered and moaned softly at his words as you kept your eyes on him.

“Good. Keep those pretty eyes on me.” Slowly, tortorously slow, he brought his mouth down, licking a slow, wide strip up your cunt, kissing your clit at the end of its journey. The switch in Mingi was quick. Too quick. He became addicted immediately.

His eyes clouded over and buried his tongue inside of you, his nose grinding against your clit. You felt like you were going to die. It was so good. It felt so fucking good. You brought your hand up and bit your finger to keep yourself quiet. It felt so wrong. Doing something like this in a church, of all places. You felt judged and watched, but it felt like heaven. Mingi’s tongue felt like heaven.

“Yeah, yeah, that's it. Feeling good, pretty baby?” You nodded frantically, whimpering out broken “yes’s” and cries of his name. His hand snuck up and pulled your hand away from your mouth, grabbing both of your wrists in one hand, keeping a firm grip on them, holding them down in front of your tummy.

He groaned LOUD into your pussy, the vibrations reaching deep inside and making your back arch. He closed his eyes for a second, lost in the taste of you. “I have to hear you, don’t be shy.”

The knot in your stomach tightened, that familiar feeling from the nights you explored your body, but this time tenfold in strength. Mingi truly was drawing a kind of pleasure out of you that you’ve never felt before.

“Oh mmff… Min-! Feels good.” You whined, feeling that climax building deep in your gut.

“Oh, baby, I feel you. You bout to cum?” He smiled and latched onto your clit, sucking and slipping one long, slender finger deep in your snug cunt. You nod again, moans breaking when he curls his finger upward inside, pressing against a spot you’ve never been able to reach yourself.

“Yeah.. yes yes yes..” You panted out, focusing on the feeling of Mingi all over you. He let out deep staccato moans around your clit before he slipped a second finger inside, coaxing inside even deeper.

“I’m gonna get you there, sweetheart. I’m gonna fuck you right through it and spread you on my cock. I'll have you seeing stars, baby, I promise.”

Before you could react he slipped his fingers out and moved up, caging you against the couch, in split second he removed your shirt and his pants, his cock, hot and heavy laid on your stomach as his hand came up and snaked behind the back of your head.

Pressing all his body weight down on you, he nudged your legs up to wrap around his waist.

His other hand slipped down and adjusted the fat head of his cock against the slick entrance of your pussy, before moving to hold your waist tighly, his thumb sinking and pressing hard against your stomach.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good. Such a good girl like you deserves to feel good, right?” Mingi’s lips came down and swallowed your whines again, increasingly desperate and sloppy like his tongue was trying to drag noises from deep in your throat.

“You deserve it.” He groans into your mouth, keeping his eyes on yours as he slowly, slowly sinks into your cunt.

Already you felt so full, tears spilled from the corners of your eyes, falling apart as his eyes stripped you down to your soul and his curved, thick cock splits you open. He bottoms out with a deep groan.

Your legs shake as his head sits snugly against your G-spot perfectly. He stays there for a moment, sinking his teeth into your plush bottom lip.

“Shh, yeah… that's it. So filthy. You feel how deep I am? So warm and so perfect.” Mingi rolled his hips into you, not quite thrusting, but he dragged his tip against that spot, and you came just like that, convulsing and whining into his mouth.

‘“Oh angel, you just came?” His whole body shivered at the amount of control he had over how good you felt. Like clay, he could shape and mold you to fit him perfectly. Make you his pretty little doll.

Your hands wrapped around his neck as he pulled himself out of you, dragging deliciously against your insides before thrusting back into you.

“Oh, you're so good. So good for me…” Ming sucked and licked dark purple marks into the flesh of your collarbones, drooling on your neck before leaving wet, open mouth kisses against the shell of your ear.

“You’re perfect, there’s nothing wrong with you, pretty baby. So responsive. So easy to please.” Mingi words floated around in your empty brain as he fucked you deep, and heavy. Your moans and cries egged him on. He wanted more from you, he wanted you to come on his cock again.

“You’re gonna give me another one (Name). I’m gonna make you come on my cock again, okay baby?” Mingi took the rosary that was swinging in your face off and flipped you over so you were on your stomach now. Wrapping the chain around your wrists, he brought them down behind your back, bound tight.

His hand massaged from your neck, down your shoulders, along your back, and down to your hips. Without warning he slid his cock back inside of you, the new prone angle making your pussy suck him even deeper. He bends over, lips pressed directly against your ear, one hand around the back of your neck and the other snaked between your stomach and the couch, drawing slow, rough circles against your clit. He fucked you deep and hard, feeling him in your stomach.

“This is what heaven feels like, baby. Like it? I know you do, your voice and your wet cunt is telling me everything. Every dirty thought you’ve been having. I’m giving you what you need. I can always give you what you need…”

The knot was building again, the drag of him against your walls stretching you so perfectly, the feeling of his body overtaking yours.

“My dirty, dirty girl. Would you like me to take you out and fuck you stupid in the altar? All whiny and sensitive, I can breed you like an animal, would you like that?”

Grinding his hips into yours without mercy, Mingi relished in the feeling of you giving yourself up to him. He was obsessed with the way you twitched and squirmed, completely at his mercy.

He loved that he was the one to rip this abstinence away from you, drag you down further into sin.

“See, this isn’t so bad, no need to feel guilty about it baby, it feels good, nothing that feels this good— fffuckkk… could ever be so bad…”

Mingi must be right. It feels so good, it’s impossible for this to be so bad right?

You weren’t going to last much longer, and he could feel you clench around him as your impending orgasm was reaching its height. Mingi licked and bit all along your back, dragging his open mouth along the length of your shoulder blades. His hand continued to rub slow, pressured circles on your clit.

“Almost there sweet girl,” he murmured against your bruised skin, chasing his own high with your body.

“You sin so beautifully for me, you’re to tempting, as soon as I saw you I wanted to shove you back in that confessional and eat you out so good you’d beg me to stop. A sweaty overstimulated mess for me in a place meant for repentance.” He kept whispering in your ear, the deep rolls of his hips making your stomach feel like it was sinking.

“Ooh I wanna cum in you so badly. But that’d be so wrong of me. So bad..” Mingi’s hips began to stutter as he buried his face deep in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and lazily kissing every inch of your throat.

“Cum for me baby, it’s okay to feel good, feel good under me, feel good while I strip your purity from you, give it to me, let me have it. I want it please honey please..”

Who were you to ignore such sweet prayer to you as he worshipped your body, practically melting into your flesh and becoming one.

His arms came around and wrapped around your torso like you were a body pillow, locking his hands together around your arms and your chest, effectively caging you against him and the couch, you couldn’t budge if you tried. He held you in a vice like hold, so tight you almost couldn’t breathe.

Your vision blacked, for just a second, as your orgasm came crashing down on you in STRONG periodic waves that felt like your insides were being battered, again and again and again and-

Mingi slowed his pace inside of you, opting for deep, deliberate rolls of his hips to move you through your orgasm, fucking his cum into you in the process.

His grip on your body turned softer, more like he was trying to hold you together rather than prevent you from moving. He ran his hands up and down your body so slowly and gently, like he was mapping you out and finding every curve, every mole or scar, every stretch mark and every sensitive spot.

“Yeah good girl. Let me fuck you through it mkay? Should I fuck you to sleep too huh? Would you like that pretty baby?” His voice was low and soft, his lips kissing along the top of your head, soothing and gentle. Your eyes lids fluttered at his softness, your cunt giving one last clench before you fully realized he had run you ragged.

Your body slumped under his own, face smushed in the pillow as you caught your breath. Mingi stood up and slipped on his pants, before gently turning you over on your back again. He pulled a pack of baby wipes out of his desk drawer and began gently cleaning between your thighs and all over your body.

His eyes followed trails of marks and bruises he left on you from his kisses and his grip on your flesh, a flash of possession hit his heart as you traced the dark marks on your neck and collar bone. “Did so good, love. Bet your boyfriend wouldn’t be able to have you praying for me like that huh?” He laughed to himself before reaching up and untying his rosary from your wrists.

He turned to the mirror and began putting it back on him. With his back turned you stared at the scratches on his back. He made you feel so good… and then it hit you.

Your boyfriend.

Your eyes widened and panic quietly began to set it. But before you could really process anything, Mingi turned back around, that stupid smile on his face as he gestures you to stand up.

“Come on lamb, we have to go visit the confessional.”

The puzzled look on your face formed and he laughed, almost condescendingly at your pitiful appearance.

He leaned down to your ear and gently bit the lobe, tugging with a low, quiet hum.

“You’ve got some sins to get off your chest.”

[inkedinshadows]

First of all congratulations for 1000 followers 🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉 it’s honestly amazing and you deserve all the best❤️❤️❤️ also happy new year 🎆🎆🎆 secondly, all the prompts are super good it, I had such a hard time choosing from them cause they that are all amazing, anyway I think 19, 20 and 21 just fit together perfectly for an angsty Azriel fic.

Broken Vows

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

A/N: thank you so much anon, you're the sweetest! <33 And happy new year one month too late oopsie 🤭

Prompts: "I trusted you." + "Don't leave me now. Please. I still need you." + "Baby, please, just look at me."

Warnings: Az is not the best partner here (I promise he didn't cheat)

Word count: 1.3k

It must be a dream. A nightmare.

Whatever was happening, it wasn't real. It couldn't be. You refused to believe it.

Azriel was still talking, but you weren't listening anymore. His words blurred together in your mind, yet his first few sentences remained sharp, playing over and over in your head.

I've found my mate.

You had never been the jealous type, so it hadn't bothered you when he began spending more and more time with Madja’s new apprentice. It had started as small talk after her visits and you usually lingered too. Talya seemed nice enough—quiet and reserved yet friendly.

You hadn't questioned it when Azriel started visiting the apothecary for even the slightest headache. But then those visits became too frequent. He went there even when both of you felt perfectly fine.

You should have realized something was off when Azriel became distant. The signs had been there. You had just been too blind to see them.

But the problem wasn't that he had found his mate, was it?

I want to be with her.

A few simple words, and the whole world collapsed around you.

“Baby, please, just look at me.” His voice finally cut through your thoughts. “I know this is hard to hear, but let me—”

“You promised,” you interrupted him. Your eyes met his from where he sat at the other end of the couch.

“Baby…” he began, but you cut him off again.

“You promised,” you repeated, your voice rising as tears pricked your eyes. “You promised!”

Guilt flashed across Azriel's face, and he at least had the decency to remain silent as you pressed on.

“You said you'd reject your mate for me, Az,” you blurted out. Hot, angry tears rolled down your cheeks, but you barely noticed. “It was in your wedding vows, for gods’ sake!”

Azriel shook his head. “It's not that simple. I don't—”

“Isn't it?” you interrupted again. “Because it seems simple enough to me. You just reject the bond, like I did.”

His expression immediately hardened. “I don't want to reject the bond. If you would only let—”

“Why wouldn't you want to reject it?” you demanded.

“Because she's my mate!”

“And I'm your wife!”

For a moment, you just glared at each other. His shadows swarmed nervously around his wings, but then his shoulders slumped and his expression softened slightly.

“Can you let me explain?” he asked, studying you. “Please.”

With a sigh, you wiped your cheeks before crossing your arms over your chest. You simply looked at him, waiting.

“I don't want to lose you, baby,” he said softly.

“I don't see how that is going—”

Azriel stopped you mid-sentence. “Let me finish? Please?”

You rolled your eyes but gestured for him to continue. Listening to him was the last thing you wanted right now, but maybe he was going to surprise you. Maybe he was going to say it was all just a joke, a prank, and you'd be mad, but it would be fine.

You were grasping at straws, and you knew it.

“I still want to be with you,” Azriel said. He shot you a sharp look when you opened your mouth, and you sank back against the couch to let him continue. “But I also want to explore this bond with her.”

You scoffed. “So what? You think you can have both of us?” You shook your head, something vicious twisting in your gut. “That's not going to work, Azriel.”

You rose from your seat to head upstairs. You needed time to think, to figure out what to do. If you stayed, you would only get angrier. You had already cried and had no desire to do it again. But if you left, maybe you could spare yourself the fury.

Though the pain—the ache in your heart—could not be avoided, no matter what you did.

“Talya said that she understands the situation and she'd be willing to—”

You froze on the spot. Azriel must have realized he'd said the wrong thing because he didn't finish the sentence. His eyes dropped to your clenched fists as you turned back to face him.

Your restraint was gone. You wouldn't hold back now.

“You talked to her before you talked to me?” you seethed.

“Well, I…” Azriel seemed to be grasping for words. “She's my mate,” he repeated, as if that was explanation enough.

“And I'm your wife!” You threw your hands up. “I have been for the last two centuries!”

“I'm sorry, baby, but I—”

“Don't you ‘baby’ me, Azriel!”

He lowered his gaze, but you were too upset to care about the hurt look in his eyes. It was nowhere close to the heartache he was causing you.

“You know why I never worried about you finding your mate?” you asked. He looked up at you, but even if he had planned on saying something, you didn't give him time. “Because you promised you'd choose me. You promised you would reject the bond. And I believed it, believed you. I trusted you.”

You were well aware of what rejecting a mating bond felt like, how difficult it could be to deal with. Even without feelings involved, even knowing that you and your mate wouldn't have been a good match, it had still taken you two weeks to feel whole again. But Azriel had been there, filling the empty spot where your bond had been with his love.

You had never regretted your choice. You never had a reason to.

“And now I find out that not only did you spend time with her knowing she was your mate,” you went on, “but that you also want to be with her?”

Azriel’s voice was firm, edged with frustration. “I told you I want to be with you too, didn’t I?”

“Mother above, Azriel,” you snapped. “You think that makes me feel better? I trusted you, but you didn't even try.”

You had fought before. After two hundred years together, arguments were inevitable. But you usually talked it out and reconciled after a few hours—a day at worst. Maybe that was why Azriel didn't look particularly concerned.

Until you slipped the wedding band off your finger and tossed it onto the couch beside him.

His eyes widened in shock, and his usually restless shadows stilled behind him. You both stared at the ring, the silence stretching as your anger faded, leaving behind only a broken heart.

“You can't have your cake and eat it too, Az,” you finally said, your voice calmer now, resigned.

You turned on your heel again.

“I'm leaving,” you announced, already walking toward the stairs. You could go stay with your parents. They would welcome you without pressing for an explanation.

Azriel snapped out of his stupor and stood, reaching for you.

“Don’t leave me now. Please. I still need you.” His fingers closed around your wrist. “I still love you.”

You yanked your arm free, but didn't turn to face him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as you bit out, “You should have loved me enough not to pursue your mate. You promised.”

He tried to stop you again, his shadows swirling around your legs as if to keep you from walking away from their master.

“Baby, that's not—”

You turned back one last time. Tears lined your eyes and your voice broke on the words. “I should have been enough, Azriel.”

You didn't wait to hear his response. You didn't try to go upstairs to pack some clothes.

Unable to stomach his presence any longer, you winnowed away.

a/n: technically, this is the end. I wanted to leave it open and hanging, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that I am a sucker for happy endings so I might write a part 2 bc I already have an idea :))

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon

1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

[suiana]

cw: matriarchy, yandere! househusband, fem reader, this is a work of fiction, please don't read further if you're uncomfortable, thanks!

it's the 1950s. men have become the caretakers of the house while women have been tasked with being the breadwinner. the age of revolution, they say! a time period where societal norms have completely flipped. a society where it's a woman's world.

as a woman, you're expected to marry a respectable man. one who knows how to care for the household and love you like a loving man.

thankfully, you've found one. your highschool sweetheart that is just the sweetest thing ever. handsome, tall, and knows his way with tending to homely duties. he even loves you like it's his last day alive!

he's basically society's ideal man. and he's your husband.

but you don't know how to tell him that you want to get a divorce. that you can't keep up with his... oddly obsessive behavior that's suffocating you. how you seem to dread going home, expecting a warm welcome only to get hit by a barrage of accusatory questions of whether you're cheating on him or not.

you love him, you do. but your husband has changed for the worse ever since you two got married a few months ago. perhaps a few weeks after your honeymoon. you know how people are, questioning why there's still no child even after a few months of marriage.

and it's not that you two are infertile. you're just not ready for one yet. you've explained it to him, you want to focus in your career first. your husband should understand that, shouldn't he? he's a man after all.

yet it seems that he thinks otherwise. constantly doing it, asking whether you're seeing others, whether you really love him or not...

it's annoying. and frankly, you've had enough.

you know, you know. men are emotional creatures. they get anxious and angry easily. they just can't help it! it's in their nature after all. but still... if he could just be a little more understanding... a little less... paranoid...

"a d-divorce?"

he gasps, taking a wary step back as he drops the stack of papers to the floor. his eyes are wide, body frozen to the ground. horrified, you could see it in his eyes.

"but honey... we're so happy, aren't we? you love me, don't you?"

you let out a sigh, pinching your nose bridge at his words. yes... yes you do love him. and you still do, you think. but how can you stand a single more day of him acting like you're going out cheating when really, you're working your back off so you can spoil your darling husband?

"I'm just not satisfied with how you're behaving."

you suppose that will work. how will he ever resist a woman's word? not in this era, clearly.

you watch as your husband stares at you, face pale as he brings his hands to his face, murmuring words of despair while he shakes his head.

no, no, no.

this couldn't be happening.

he thought you two were perfect together! what changed?! you love him, don't you? you still come home to him everyday, give him a peck as you walk through those doors! everything was fine! everything is fine!

no, you must've been brainwashed by someone else.

by some... some other manwhore. a good for nothing man who didn't get a proper education, surely!

that's the only other explanation. you must've been seduced! after all, you're a good woman. you could never do any wrong. not in the eyes of the law, not by society, and definitely not in his eyes.

because you're his wife. his beloved wife. you're a good breadwinner, you work hard, you bring him out on dates, you don't abuse him like other wives do...

and in return, he's the perfect husband! he cooks the best food, doesn't he?! all hot and delicious! you said so yourself! he dresses how you like, works out, keeps the house neat and tidy for you, does groceries and makes sure that everything is perfect!

sure, he's a little bit on the protective and anxious side... but can you blame him? you're gorgeous! he's worried you'll be stolen from him while you work! by- by those good for nothing guys that think they should be independent. who do they think they are, working in public when they should be someone's husband? spewing those gender equality crap that you have been talking about too? you've been poisoned. surely.

and the fact that he's not able to provide a child yet? of course he's going to be anxious and overthink! can you blame him? he's just a man!

"please... please don't leave. I'll do anything. anything! you can't leave me! I'll die without you!"

he feels his heart race, sweat lining the skin of his forehead. he's hyperventilating now. can't take the fact that you actually want to leave him.

it's not real.

It's not real.

It's not real.

and yet, the way that you're looking at him is proving him otherwise.

"but you can't leave me! we've been together since high school!"

he tries to plead with you. but you're stone-faced and look like you're not looking to negotiate. his palms grow clammy as he desperately racks his brain for words.

"I'll change! I'll stop... stop asking whether you're cheating on me- you're not, right? you wouldn't cheat on me! i know you wouldn't! you're just misguided!"

then you let out a soft sigh and he feels the last of his restraint snap.

"no! you can't leave me!"

in a second, he's on you, pinning you to the ground. all rationality has left his body but can you blame him? he's just a man. men get emotional easily. that's why it's better for them to stay at home, away from politics where they could easily cause millions of death over a small dispute. at home, where they belong.

"I'm yours! forever and now! you can't just... just throw me away! we took vows! you can't break them!"

fat tears roll down his cheeks, his hands pinning your wrists to the ground. despite the fact that they're more emotional, men have always been stronger. isn't that why they had to go school to be taught how to control their violence? to not raise a hand at anyone no matter how emotional they get?

"I'm your husband! i would never leave you! you can't just leave me too!"

then something in the air shifts and he sniffles softly, gripping your wrists tightly. for the first time in your life, you feel fear. fear for your own life. fear that your darling husband inflicted on you.

"you're not leaving me."

...

"hey have you heard? apparently y/n hasn't been coming into the office lately... I'm worried for her."

"yeah... and i heard that her husband is visiting some rural area for a short getaway. my husband told me."

"i hope she's alright... she should go find him soon. how will her husband ever survive on his own? what if he gets ill?"

and accompany him you will.

for now, no one will ever bother you two ever again. man or woman, society and law alike. just two sould, far from everyone else. as it should be.

as it will always be.

[eloquentlytired]

18+ NSFW. MDNI.

dreamlike — tommy miller x fem reader

warnings: slightly dark content, dark!tommy, smut, unspecified age gap but reader is over 22+, masturbation, handjob, cheating, tommy’s moral compass breaks down, unclothed grinding, surprise ending, sex outdoors, tension, maria ily this isn't personal I just rlly like ur man

notes: hi guys it's been 100 years I'm sorry ily + take this bc im ovulating 😎 tommy miller suddenly making me feel things bc of gabriel luna that's right. likes and reposts are appreciated🥹

“I don't think you've settled down quite just yet.” joel tells him one day while they're eating breakfast together. tommy glances, swallows then responds.

“I don't know what you mean.” but his eyes betray him as they return somewhere for the fifth time; at a distant specific table where you're reading some silly book again.

your food is yet to be touched while tommy’s and joel’s are nearly gone.

“tommy we're too old for this shit, you and I. you're my brother, I already know what you'll do before you even do it.” joel throws the bait and tommy bites it.

“I’m not doing anything joel except—”

“except eating Maria's food while throwing damn heart eyes at her.”

tommy hisses at joel’s truthful interruption, not so much at being interrupted but at the validation of those words.

“I’m just making sure she likes the food.” joel deadpans, tommy does the same right after because of his own words. gods, he is pathetic.

“fuck, just shoot me already.” joel shrugs at his brother's words and doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's grinning. “tell your wife, I'm sure she'll be delighted.”

tommy shakes his head and keeps on eating. he stresses over his thoughts so much that, lucky for you, he misses your piercing gaze and the bite of your lips.

he spends days trying to blame it on something other than him being a terrible person. the breakout, the virus, the living circumstances, the we need to work faster from Maria or that everyone depends on him for the hard stuff.

sure, tommy had chosen this in the first place but he doesn't even know if he wants whatever this is anymore. what does he want?

“mister miller!”

the tension leaves his shoulders as he watches you walk towards him, only wearing that favourite sundress of yours and an oversized jacket.

it's the first real summer that wyoming has felt since the outbreak. tommy only appreciates it because he's too lazy to gear up for winter.

“you’re early.” he says and finds himself smiling as you flop down beside him, sitting on the green weeds.

the snow is still melting but it doesn't make things less cold — but clearly you don't feel the cold he does.

“I helped in the kitchen so they let me off early.” you explain and tommy hums. he thinks about the past months when he'd found you during patrol, covered by the snow and nearly dead. he'd never ridden back home faster, urging for the medics to help you out and thank gods they'd done a great job. now you were here, a few months later, and trusting him more than anyone else while tommy was just a straight up bastard.

he fed you more than others, brought you new clothes that you might like and most importantly showed you his spot. that well hidden spot outside the fences which was an hour's walk away... it wasn't even special but it was spacious and quiet and a little cleaner — and suddenly he was calling it our spot instead of my spot.

for months you'd come here, chat with him and draw in your worn out notebook. the pages were running out and tommy made a mental note to find you a new one. fuck.

“what’s this?” tommy murmurs while his hand points at a very specific drawing on the left page.

he seems to pale while you just feel yourself growing hot. you'd drew him back in the cafeteria when he was looking at you, when he thought you were so unaware of his eyes but you always knew.

“I just—” you try to find the right words, or better yet the right excuse, but you can't. “I just did it.”

tommy catches on your tone as if you were afraid to receive a reaction. his reply surprises you.

“do I really look at you that way?” he asks and you nod, the strap of your dress falling off your shoulder clearly to test him.

tommy has never succeeded in any tests in his entire life.

you lay on the ground, indifferent about the weeds tangling in your hair. tommy’s face hovers over yours as he kisses you, one of his hands sneaking beneath your dress to squeeze your thigh and nothing more.

“tommy.” he swallows his own name from your lips, his lips kissing you feverishly yet the rest of his body doesn't dare move. tommy just sticks to laying beside you while his elbow achingly supports his weight.

he cannot trust himself to move, to slip between your thighs and only kiss.

the hand he's placed on your thigh earlier starts to retreat but you don't let it as you use both of your hands to capture his wrist.

“sweetheart.” tommy warns, his eyes blown wide with lust while his chest heaves up and down. he’s affected by this, feeling overwhelmingly lustful like he's young again, while also fearing the consequences of this. the aftermath of it.

for the first time you don't listen to him, pushing his hand between your thighs until his fingers come in contact with your soaked panties.

you hear him cursing beneath his breath, fuck this, as he touches you after what feels like forever.

he rubs you through your panties, his massive hand feeling the material soaking further as his thumb finds your clit. your head turns and you bury it in his chest while tommy just rubs.

his breath is hitched and he's in a far worse state than you for a different type of reasons. you drool on his shirt and throb against his fingers because you're excited, you feel good. on the other hand, tommy cups and fondles your pussy possessively while stressing over the limits. he can't do more than this — he shouldn't.

“can I touch your cock?” you whisper almost too shyly and tommy wishes joel would have just shot him when he had asked the first time.

your hand unzips his trousers and takes out his cock because tommy has obviously agreed, because it's your fault for looking at him with those sparkling eyes.

your foreheads collide as tommy touches you and you touch him.

his fingers eventually sneak beneath your panties because he wants it to be fair, you're touching his bare cock so he's entitled to your pussy right?— or maybe he really is just an asshole deep down.

nothing like the tommy that maria loves, nothing like the tommy that everybody respects. no, once again he's the tommy miller that only joel knows.

your fingers circle around his cock, feeling it at first, before caressing every inch of skin you can get. your eyes are on tommy’s as your foreheads keep touching and a soft smile occupies your face while you stroke his cock.

you're smiling and touching his dick and tommy likes it too much.

“you need a new notebook, don't you?” tommy asks through gritted as your fingers squeeze around his hard cock. because it's definitely the right time for conversations.

you nod, mouth slightly agape as his fingers circle your swollen clit and then dip between your lips, feeling you dripping.

“anything else?” he asks too softly while his nose brushes against yours, offering some intimacy that isn't just sexual.

“pencils?” you don't order him or demand. you ask because you care and tommy likes that you care in that way. it's always only if it's okay with you and that's exactly how he needs it.

“notebooks.. pencils.. whatever you say, it'll happen.” he slaps your pussy, not too hard, and you whimper.

you can feel your nipples hardening beneath your dress while your pussy simply leaks for tommy miller. your legs shift and you spread them.

tommy sways his hips, fucks his cock into your tight but soft fist and curses.

the summer breeze carries your soft whimpers and tommy’s gentle grunts. your hand strokes him a little faster as your thumb purposely brushes against his sensitive slit and you don't fail to notice the way tommy’s hips twitch when you do it.

the front of his shirt is a mix of your drying drool and his sweat but it doesn't bother him. his solid focus is to fuck your small fist and, of course, to pleasure you which is his first priority.

tommy can handle you, his middle finger circling your wet entrance slowly before he pushes in, the slide smoother than he'd expected. he adds a second finger minutes later, then a third.

you stroke his cock as he thrusts his fingers inside your pussy and for a while nothing else really matters.

the squelching of your cunt is loud and tommy curls his fingers inside you, reaching a place that makes you see stars. “tommy!” you gasp in that angelic voice and he goes a little crazy, fingers digging into your sweet spot as he becomes a little desperate with his thrusts.

your lower tummy shudders with delight and your thighs flex as his fingers thrust into your tight pussy recklessly, poking at those sensitive nerves every damn time.

tommy thinks you warn him about your orgasm but he's also not sure as he's too busy watching your face and your pussy reacting simultaneously. your eyebrows furrow and your mouth forms a small ‘O’ as your walls are suddenly gripping his fingers too tight, too deep.

you cum with a shuddering moan of his name and coat his fingers generously, becoming a spectacle. you squirt for him, because of him, and he'd draw out more if it wasn't for time running away from you two.

tommy seems confused when you push his hand away but then everything happens so fast. he can't stop it, he swears.

he watches as you roll to your side, your chest brushing against his, and slip his cock between your thighs. tommy can't breath when his entire girth slides between your pussy lips, soaking through, until his tip kisses your clit.

“no sweetheart—” tommy warns weakly but you're already moving, swaying. his cock is wet with your juices as it slides against your pussy, harder than ever, and he is utterly defeated.

“please cum on my pussy.” you mumble against his lips and he kisses you otherwise he might do worse. he satiates himself with this situation, sucking your bottom lip while thrusting his hips upwards and taking half of what he wants. something he doesn't deserve.

his balls swell and then clench as he orgasms, lowering his hips a little to cum on your pussy. he fulfils his promise, painting the surface white with his cum before resting his forehead on yours again. spent.

it's quiet for a long time as his arms remain lazily wrapped around your body. you melt against him, into him, and you two do your best to catch your breath.

when he looks at you again, the sun is setting right behind you and making you look surreal. you're like a dream while tommy is just there with a stupid smile on his face and half indecent because of what you've done.

then suddenly he doesn't feel real, his body is all too light before it gets incredibly heavy.

he hears his name being called out repeatedly tommy tommy tommy and he jumps, looking around with sweat dripping down his back.

maria stands over him as he lays on the couch because he's home — not outside the fence. not with you.

“I told you to cut day drinking with joel. he's bringing back old habits.” his wife tells him, pressing a kiss on his forehead before walking away.

tommy rises and stumbles to the window. the snow is still there, white and thick, while the red calendar on the wall reads December 25 like it's a fucking joke. like he'd never met you secretly in the spot that belongs to you and him.

reality hits hard as you pass by his house, that familiar notebook resting against your chest as you hug it preciously. you look at him instinctively, as if feeling his burning gaze, and you smile.

“merry christmas, mister miller!” you yell cheerfully and tommy nods, forcing his best smile.

miracles can only go so far and in the end, tommy can be content with just dreams.

[trans-fairy-goddess]

Dirty confession: I, a trans woman, have been sleeping with my mother since Christmas. We got a bit too drunk and ended up fucking, and didn't find out until we woke up and my cock was soft inside her and she had dried cum on her face. It was... very awkward when we both woke up, I woke up first and just pretended I was asleep, probably thinking I was having a wet dream. Only issue is that made me hard. So my mother woke up to herself still wrapped around my now-hard cock.

She kinda just shook me awake and I began to freak the fuck out, realising that I wasn't asleep and it was actually happening. She tried to get up, but in raising herself off me, she slipped back on it, which made us both moan. I think there was a shared "Are we doing this? Do we give a fuck?" moment after that as we both stared at each other, before she muttered "fuck it" and started riding. I had DEFINETLY came inside the night before, but she didn't let me now, and I came on my stomach moaning "mommy". She left after that, and I immediately felt awful and called my girlfriend crying about it. She was at her parents cross-country for christmas, and I'd essentially cheated on her with my own mother. She is into incest though and she assured me that if anything she was fucking ecstatic for me...

Anyway, since then I have fucked my mother fucked a LOT. I was mostly the same gist, after my little siblings have gone to bed, she'd knock on the guest room door, looking real sheepish at the start but more and more bold, and ask me if I'm busy. It started as mostly missionary, but then she wanted to ride me again, and this time she was slamming her hips down and gripping me by the throat, calling me her "Slut daughter". I came like, three times that time, it was intense.

My siblings go to a weird alternative school that starts suuper early in the year, which was great because ma would start signalling me during the day. In the week before I went back to school, which was like only an hours drive away ngl so not that far to go, we were fucking up to five times a day. I only was inside her maybe twice a day tho because damn I'm not that vigorous, but she started getting me to spend breakfast and lunch under the table eating her out...

Anyway, im back at college now and me and my ma have been sending each other depraved shit. She's one of those people who's baseline kink level is "I'm into it", and apparently incest has been a big one since she was my age. She does know that my partner knows, and she called her to discuss the whole thing. The call did develop though, into ma on face time on my laptop pumping her cunt with one of her dildo's while she and my partner boss me around. Since then a group chat was indeed made, and my partner's been roleplaying as my big sister WAY more than usual. I've had so kuch sistercunt 😵‍💫...

To keep a long ask short; in a weeks time, once my siblings are with their respective fathers for the week, ma is gonna make the drive so she and my partner can spend days using me like a dildo.

- 🍄🍁

This is so hot omg gurl 🤤