#its ok i can write fix it fics

[six-demon-bag]

cargo is the best movie ive ever seen in my life what the hell was that other than constant openings to porn scenes we were unjustly denied

[averysmolkirbo]

2am headcanon, go!!!

one wrightworth thing ive been thinkin about is both phoenix and miles are terrible at self care but in different ways and whenever theyre talking about it just devolves to

(This goes both ways read it as whoever you want)

"wow you really need to stop doing (** insert destructive habit here **) and take care of yourself for once"

"Oh really, like youre some kind of paragon of self care yourself"

"Well at least i can (** insert personal struggle of partner here **) "

"strong words for some who cant even (** insert personal struggle of opposite partner here**) and one time ( **insert extreme example of bad habit that happened ONCE**)"

Its so funny because they are BOTH broken (but in different ways) and BOTH have a serious case of "i can fix him"-itis for each other and are BOTH responding "ok bob the builder relax" to each other

Phoenix: is nice to everyone *but* himself and is sometimes so selfless it ends up becoming self destructive and must be physically stopped but generally not as extreme of bad habits. "whats a selfcare?"

Miles: hard on pratically everyone *including* himself. - needs verbal reminder to stop working &/or to stop worrying about working/ other people working. - sometimes must also be physically stopped from working/working too hard. swings between intense self care and intensely bad habits (because then itll balance out) (thats not really how this works) "of course i can do self care. I'm just always to busy to."

[sunshine-in-a-bottle]

Thanks to Stroob tho my demons aren't rotting me from the inside anymore. I'm still gonna get them out in the tags because the rot always comes back but like, my ribs aren't fucking disintegrating anymore, so thank u, you demonic fruit

[kulliare]

timeline anon back again! Omg I feel the same the whole of 2×06 I was watching it thinking. That's just John mulaney and Sarah Paulton. What're they doing here? It was wacky

I think you're right about the writers retconning or straight up forgetting their own details lol..but my timeline idea is so rough it's basically. Carmy moves out at 19 or 20, goes to New York or somewhere first for a few years -> (but not the s1 nightmare New York stuff) -> goes to Copenhagen -> 2×06 Christmas Dinner is the same year as copenhagen (w luca! I did really like that detail hehe. Amazed Carmy had any friends 💀) -> afterwards he dives back to New York to escape his family and works at the scary Chef Joel place all the way up until Mikeys death and then he returns to The Beef. Hm. Sort of a rough mess but that's the way it makes sense in my head

Hope you're having a nice soup day too!

it honestly took me out of it a little bit. i don't know sarah but whenever john was on screen i was like... huh.. what.. but i was still too confused by the chaos to really care and it still was an a+ ep

agree with carmy leaving around that age-- i think he does go to culinary school during that time (he's worked at the bear for awhile so he would be considered a good option, might be able to get scholarship bc of that? im so sorry to the ppl who actually work in kitchens i feel like an academic trying to talk abt something on my high horse and getting all the details wrong) but with his like emphasis on learning fundamentals in kitchens it makes sense.

tbh i imagine w luca its like. linkedin friends but it counts for carmy he needs a W wherever he can get lol. and it really was nice to hear people did have good impressions of carmy like.. i wish he could've heard that too but i guess it would've also fed into his idea that work is the only way he can get any value like. ugh nasty boy. i kind of like that he ended up being a bit more nasty this season but i think it's bc i like unlikeable protags in small doses

WHAT I REALLY wonder is how they're going to handle s3-- i think i'd actually be happy for it to end at s3 bc i'm terrified of shows generally losing the plot and main character ideas as the show goes on. i liked s2 but in my brain i'm still treating s1 as main canon and s2 a possibility of what might've happened because of the Fear.

my wants for carmy are for him to actually get more into therapy, but i doubt that's going to happen before he has a final breakdown that finally gets him to finally realize he can't live like this. one interesting detail that i don't think will come up in the show is that noma is actually closing due to similar issues that the bear brings up-- if they bring it up i think it'll be interesting but at the same time i want carmy to actually break down and not too worked up over minor interesting facts

[mangoisms]

we have eof next which is kind of insane to me, like after so many months of it rotating in my brain, i finally get to write it... i'm trying not to get too caught up in it because it feels like such a big project. not necessarily my magnum opus though it very well could be which is the thing i'm like. Hngh. BUT... i need to finish the edits for ck, attempt to finish my reading for no man's land, and see atsv again... so. theres still some time

this week will definitely be a bit of a break in regards to that then we'll jump back into it... i really want to try finishing it before i start grad school in the fall but i'm not sure. eof is kind of... a big thing, in that i think it's really two fics instead of one but i don't actually know if that's possible, like if enough things happen in the second fic (the sequel, i guess) for it to stand on its own....

who knows LOL we'll see how it goes

[chxrrydrxp]

ok so i'm so in with your theme rn and i loved your after car with jason drabble but what i really came here to say imagine poor jason todd realizes he's in love in dick's girlfriend. he doesn't say anything but he knows he can treat you better and be better for you. he knows dick cares about you but he's bad for you because he'll never fully love you but believes he can. so he watches you from afar, trying to sweet in small ways like helping fixing your car and stuff. he watches you and dick fight, break up and of course make up till the point he's fed up of watching dick play you because he's knows dicks cheating and he knows dick isn't trying to hurt you but its not fair. poor jason he doesn't want to be a rebound he just wants to give you the love you deserve.

I'm really about to break jasons pretty heart and staple it back together with this fic. apologies for the wait! I got too excited and decided to write a series about it 🥹

I'll release it chapter by chapter 🤭 and you're a genius I love ur brain 🧠

and fr dick damn near slept with every dc character that man is a whore. I'm still tryna figure out what excuse imma give him for why he is a serial man whore

all jokes aside, I'm gonna have some much fun with this.

𝒻ℴ𝓇𝒷𝒾𝒹𝒹ℯ𝓃 𝒻𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓉

Jason Todd x (Dick's Ex! Fem!) Reader:

chapter 1

chapter 2

warnings: this series will get heated eventually, and I'll just put a warning on those specified chapters.

this might be a long series, depends how much yall want it 🤭

Loud rain poured against Jason's window. He laid against his dark wood bed frame while reading a book. As he flicked through thin pages, the sound of you and Dick arguing could be heard from across the hall.

He wasn't exactly trying to eavesdrop, but he could make out certain sentences like “why's her name still..’. He sighed, growing more and more tired of the constant back and forth between you two. The conversation slowly moved from the room into the hall, and the argument could almost be heard throughout the whole manor.

“Dick, I cannot do this anymore. I'm tired. I'm tired of being confused about your feelings for me!” He could then hear Dick's annoyingly condescending voice. Another tired sigh escaped Jason's lips as he ran his fingers tiredly through his dark strands. He rolled off the bed, put on a loose white tee, and slipped on black house shoes.

Pulling the door back, he wasn't even noticed by the two of you until his deep voice rumbled through the hall. Even as a quiet, “The hells’ all the commotion, I'm tryna read damn it”, his voice caught your attention. You felt slightly embarrassed. But the anger just wouldn't let up. “Sorry Jason, just go back to your room,” Dick pleaded, leaning against the wall with a frown. Jason rolled his eyes at Dick's continuous attempts to sound like an older brother, and his eyes flickered to yours.

Noticing your red eyes and a tear of anger falling down your cheeks, his jaw relaxed and he almost looked concerned. “You alright?” His soft voice coaxed you out of your bubbling fit of anger. “Yeah...I'm okay…I'm just gonna go home..” Your eyes stuck back to the floor and then you walked away, leaving the two brothers alone. Dick began to walk away, only stopping in his tracks at the mention of his name.

“Dick…you can't keep doin' this man-” Dick spun around shooting a cold glare at him. “Doing what? You think I want to hurt her?” Jason's eyebrows furrowed. “You're not doing a good job of proving me wrong.” Dick walked away.

You dropped your keys on your marble console table, falling onto the couch with a sigh. You knew he wasn't right for you. This cycle of toxicity would go on and on forever unless you stuck your foot in the ground. The repeating doubts about your relationship circled your mind almost daily. You and Dick had been together since late middle school days. You went everywhere with each other and attended every dance together. You were both practically attached at the hip. You had everything in common and could get lost in various topics for hours.

But, that connection had seemed so far away. So long ago. Like a distant memory. The romance in the relationship felt like it was fading, but neither of you was ready to let it go. And it puts a strain on your relationship, even without romance.

You curled up on the soft sofa, bringing your knees to your chest and feeling stinging tears well in your eyes. You knew it was bad for you. God that's all you ever thought about. But it hurt too much to even consider ending things. He was so familiar.

You don't know how much time has passed by of you being stuck in a constant loop of repetitive thoughts, but a knock on your door shook you out of your trance.

“y/n? It's Jason, can I come in?” You quickly wiped your eyes with your shirt and straightened yourself out. “Be right there!” You cringed at that obvious wavering of your voice. You reached the door, opening it slightly so he could only see your upper half. Your head was leaned downward as a half-assed attempt to hide your tear-stained face. “Hey,” was all he said, with a faint sheepish smile. You lazily nodded at him. “Need something?” You'd hoped you didn't sound angry at him. “Well, I came here to ask you the same thing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, a familiar habit of his. “Come in.”

(yall I cannot think of a title omg)

[cl3fairyyy]

routine : part 2 || edward nashton x GN!reader ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

summary || you and edward finally go on a date

warnings || eddie is a liiiittle more stalker-y in this one, smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of edward following reader home and just overall being his strange little self, this fic does get a little suggestive (no actual smut) so please MDNI!!!! i think that's everything, if i forgot anything i am so sorry </3 this fic is mostly just fluff with a side of awkward first date small talk

word count || 4.5k

notes || i am so sorry for the long wait on part 2!! been having the worst writers block of my life and my job has been taking over my life atm </3 but it is finally here!! i had so much fun writing this one, definitely thinking of doing a part 3 if u guys want it :)) apologies if at any point eddie is too OOC, he's definitely a little more confident in this one hehe. also this pic of paul is EXACTLY how I imagined him looking while writing this

You arrive back at your dingy apartment later than you had planned and, admittedly, a lot tipsier than you had wanted to be.  

You shove your key into the crappy broken lock that your landlord refuses to fix and jiggle it around for several moments until you finally hear a click. Opening the door, you sway on your feet a little before stumbling over to the couch, kicking the door shut behind you; when you plop down on the velvety throw you use to cover up the horrible cracking leather of your equally horrible sofa, you sigh and throw your head back, allowing a smile to play onto your face.  

He had asked you on a date.  

You keep replaying the interaction in your head, mentally swooning at how Edward had lit your cigarette for you, how he had been so close that you could smell the laundry detergent on his clothes. You giggle like a schoolgirl, hugging one of your cushions as you fish around in your bag for your phone. You have to suppress a giddy squeal when you are greeted with not one, but three messages from a random number, one you can only guess belongs to Edward. You feel dizzy unlocking your phone, and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or your nerves.  

Hi, it’s Edward. I hope you have a lovely rest of your night.  

I really liked talking to you today. You’re a very interesting person.  

Are you okay? It's late, did you get home safe?  

It takes everything in you to not dreamily sigh like you’re in a fucking rom-com. He's concerned about me, you think, typing a reply with a lopsided smile on your face.  

hiii yes im fine!! just made it home : )  

im vry drunk lol  

Immediately the grey typing bubble pops up and you launch your phone across the room, scrambling to the fridge to open the half-empty bottle of slightly too expensive rosé that you have been saving for the next time you rewatch Fleabag.   

You hear your phone ding twice and gingerly pick it up from underneath the coffee table, your hands shaking.  

Oh, good to hear that you’re safe haha. I was about to head back to the bar to see if you were okay.  

That was a joke by the way.  

You can’t stop a smile from spreading across your face. You take a swig from the bottle and begin typing.  

yea im sure it was lol  

it was nowhere near as interesting after u left. u were in such a hurry too are u ok??  

Edward’s cheeks grow red when he reads your second message. You think he’s interesting? Are you hinting that you would’ve preferred if he stayed?  

Wish I could have stayed for a bit longer haha, just had some work at home that I couldn’t get my mind off, so wanted to take another crack at it.  

Obviously, he can’t tell you that his work isn’t just some simple tax fraud, but a potential money laundering scandal that ties all the way back to Maroni and your own boss. He knows at this point, though, that you’re too polite to question him.  

u sure do work a lot!!!! idk how u havent burnt out yet.   

try to get some rest if u can : ) its not like the work wont be there tmrw!!!!  

Edward smiles. You are so lovely to him; the idea that someone like you could show so much kindness to him makes his heart swell and his eyes fill with tears. A few run down the tip of his nose and plop onto his phone screen.  

I know, I know. Sometimes it feels like I can’t switch my brain off haha. It’s been in overdrive since I got home.  

He cringes at himself. Is he meant to text so formally? You're pretty much the only contact in his phone besides his landlord and the office. He glances down at his screen, noticing that you’ve read his message but haven’t started typing an answer, and immediately begins to panic.  

Of course someone like you couldn’t like him. He was a fool to think you were any different than anyone else in this shithole of a city. You’re probably still sat with your colleagues at that shitty bar, reading out his messages and all having a good old laugh at him. Everyone get a load of Nashton! you're probably saying, and he feels sick to his stomach.   

soso sorry my phone just died out of nowhere!!! i srsly did not mean to leave u on opened  

honestly i get u i can be like that. its probably worse for u tho bc ur so smart lol  

whats been sending the brain of eddie into overdrive tonight??  

Edward shakes his head at how silly he’s being. It would be funny if he didn’t feel so pathetic. He reads your messages over and over until his eyes burn; no one has ever given him a nickname before. Eddie. He rereads the nickname, trying to imagine how it would sound coming out of your mouth. His mind begins to wander, picturing you lying beneath him, bare chest heaving as you moan that name to him. Eddie.  

He's snapped out of his thoughts when his phone lights up again with a notification from his news app. He attempts to push down his building arousal before it completely clouds his mind, and scrambles for his phone to send you a reply.   

It’s a little embarrassing, but... I have been thinking non-stop about the conversation we had outside.  

I really would like to take you out, if you’ll let me. If you’d like to pick where we go so you feel more comfortable, I’m happy with that. I’m sure you know much nicer places to go than I do anyway haha.  

You squeal at your phone, kicking your feet in the air like a goddamn teenager. You hastily type a reply, and soon enough you’ve made plans for Sunday to go to a lovely downtown jazz club that plays live music. It's one of your favourite spots in the whole city.  

You fall asleep fairly quickly after throwing yourself on your bed still fully clothed. You don’t think twice about how bad your hangover will be when you wake up, instead picturing your date with Edward and just how lovely he is.  

Edward, on the other hand, stays up all night, his thoughts rife with anxiety. You'd had one conversation in a loud bar, and now he’s expected to keep you entertained for an entire evening? What if you didn’t find him interesting? What if he ran out of things to talk about? What if you stood him up entirely?  

He shakes his head, trying as hard as he can to shake the thoughts from his brain entirely. He opens your social media, which he has found himself doing every time he seems to be on the verge of a panic attack recently. He finds his favourite picture of you, a candid photo of you in a coffee shop mid-laugh, your eyes sparkling and cheeks rosy. He loves your smile in this picture.  

He hopes he can make you smile like that.  

Saturday goes by painfully slowly for you. The dragging hours aren’t helped by your awful hangover that seems to have convinced your brain that any slight movement will have you vomiting. You cringe rereading the messages you sent Edward the evening prior, hangxiety hitting you like a train.  

Eddie? Seriously?  

You have one conversation with the guy and have already started throwing nicknames around- you're in shock that you didn’t scare him off with how forward you were being. If he brings it up, you can always blame it on how drunk you were, which isn’t exactly a lie.  

He doesn’t text you until later in the evening, just a simple message confirming that you’re still on for tomorrow. You wonder if he’s as nervous as you are, if his anxiety manifests itself in the way he chews at his lower lip the same way you do.  

When Sunday finally rolls around, you wake up extra early to give yourself as much time to get ready as humanly possible. You would never admit it to anyone, but you’d picked out your outfit the night before and laid it on your desk chair, your nervous excitement barely allowing you to get a wink of sleep.   

Edward had offered to pick you up, but you really do not need him seeing the shithole you live in the first time he sees you outside of work. You both agree to meet outside the bar, and since it’s in walking distance from your apartment, you decide against getting a taxi.  

Gotham is strangely beautiful in March, the last moments of winter finally coming to fruition. The sun is just beginning to set when you step out into the chilly air, casting an orange glow on the old buildings and warming your cheeks against the cold.   

Edward’s heart races as he clumsily stumbles out of the subway station. He's almost twenty minutes early and grasps a cluster of lilies in one hand, the other of which he uses to steady himself against a lamppost. The lady from his favourite podcast whispers soothingly in his ear as he attempts to block out the loudness of the city and steady his breathing.  

“You are strong, and you are worthy. Be the change you want to see.”  

He closes his eyes, taking deep breaths before finally grounding himself. Edward is all too aware of how he must look right now: sweaty, clutching a bouquet of flowers while standing alone outside a bar. He glances at his watch. Still ten minutes until your meeting time.  

He tries to ignore the lump in his throat and the stinging in his eyes. You will show up. You have to.  

Edward jumps slightly when his phone chimes in his pocket. His heart drops when he realises it’s a text from you.  

so sorry!!! running a few mins late :/ decided to walk today and ofc that’s the day that every traffic light in the city decides to break LOL  

The light-hearted tone in your message doesn’t do much to comfort him. He types a short answer and sends it, trying to focus all of his energy on his podcast and not crying from how utterly terrified he is.  

Ten minutes after your initially agreed upon meeting time, Edward hears a voice shouting his name. He looks up to be met with the image of you practically sprinting down the street towards him. You pull to a stop in front of him, smoothing your hair down and smiling bashfully up at him. Christ, you forgot how tall he is.  

“Before you say anything, I am so sorry. First there was the traffic light thing, then one of my old college friends stopped me in the street and decided that she wanted to update me on every single day of the past three years of her life.”  

You breathe in heavily through your nose, your hands on your knees as you try and keep yourself from keeling over. You make a mental note to begin using that gym membership you keep renewing. Quitting smoking would probably help, too.  

You look up when Edward hasn’t responded for several moments, and his cheeks are very pink.  

“Look, you have every right to be pissed at me. If you want to cancel-”  

Before you can finish, Edward interrupts you by thrusting a bouquet of flowers into your hands.  

“Th-these are for you. I, um, remembered you mentioning lilies were your favourite flower, so...” He stumbles over his words, talking just a little too fast. 

You're quite literally lost for words. You examine the flowers, your cheeks growing warm; it's a lovely spray of pink, yellow and orange lilies, tied together with a cream ribbon. They’re a little crumpled, but nothing that can’t be fixed with a little plant food. You smile at Edward.  

“Oh, Edward. They're gorgeous, really, thank you. No guy’s ever gotten me flowers before...”  

A small, lopsided grin spreads across his face.   

“I can’t imagine why anyone lucky enough to have you wouldn’t get you flowers.”  

You flush at that, and loop your arm around his, leading him inside. You manage to find a nice booth in the corner, away from the stage and speakers that surround it while Edward heads to the bar. You anxiously drum your fingers on the table and scroll through your phone, not really paying attention to what you’re meant to be reading as your mind replays what Edward had said earlier.  

Edward watches you from the bar, admiring the high flush on your cheekbones and the way your outfit hugs your body. By the time he’s ordered and heading back to your table, you seem a little more relaxed. You smile at him gratefully as you accept your drink and try not to make your staring too obvious.  

He looks handsome. He's wearing such a basic outfit, just a simple button up shirt and some smart slacks, but there’s something about Edward wearing something so casual and making it look so good that has you crossing your legs under the table.  

“You look lovely tonight, by the way.”  

You smile shyly at him, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass.  

“Thank you, Edward. I have to say, you clean up pretty good yourself.”  

He laughs, and you don’t miss the way it sounds like it's one of disbelief.  

“Well, I don’t know if I’d say that.”  

You roll your eyes playfully, taking a sip of your drink.  

“Well, I would. You look really handsome.”  

Edward shakes his head, a bashful smile on his face as he looks down, taking a sip of water. The pair of you sit there for a few moments in awkward silence, trying to think of something to start a conversation with. 

“So-” 

“You-” 

You lock eyes and both laugh, cheeks red. You wave your hand. 

“Sorry, you go.” 

Edward averts his gaze, fiddling with his collar. 

“I, um, was just going to ask how you found this place? I’ve never even heard of it. Well, I suppose the fact I don’t drink and don’t listen to jazz music doesn’t help, but...” 

Edward finds himself trailing off, kicking himself for how utterly awkward he is. The way you smile at him, unfazed, doesn’t help. 

How could someone like you ever find any interest in someone like him? 

“It’s a funny story, actually. My old roommate was on a date with this absolute dick, and she needed me to come save her. So, what happened was....” 

As you tell him the grandiose story of having to pretend to be your roommates' partner who caught her cheating, and how you had to run away when her date attempted to fight you, Edward can’t help but admire the way your eyes light up as you gesture wildly with your hands, the way your laugh comes out as an adorable snort when you attempt to do an impression of her very flustered date.  

You are so beautiful. He wishes he could capture this moment in a bottle and replay it every day, for the rest of his life. 

He doesn’t realise how much he’s staring until you clear your throat a little awkwardly, clearly finished with your tale. He can feel the warmth on his cheeks. 

“Ah, well, I do hope you don’t have some secret boyfriend who’s going to jump out on me like that.” 

He bites his lip after saying whatever the hell that was, but to his complete disbelief you laugh. Not a pity laugh, not one of discomfort, but a genuine laugh, one that’s just a little too loud, one that disturbs some of the patrons around you. 

You clearly don’t care, your head thrown back as that smile, that lovely smile from his favourite picture spreads across your face. Even as you speak, uncontrollable giggles escape you. 

“Oh God, can you imagine? Lucky for you, I’ve been single for a while, so don’t worry about my secret boyfriend coming in and trashing the place.” 

That makes Edward laugh, much to your pleasure, and just like that, the tension in the air has dissolved. You can see Edward’s tense shoulders visibly relax, and the next few hours are spent under the warm light of the bar’s lamps, your conversations hushed and filled with longing glances, and it feels like you’re the only two people in the world that exist. 

The two of you step out into the bitter cold of the evening, hands fumbling for your respective cartons of cigarettes. Your shivering hands are somehow able to summon a flame from your crappy old lighter, and the alcohol in your system, as well as the way Edward looks at you with such adoration in his eyes, warm you from the inside out. He offers you his arm and you take it maybe just a little too enthusiastically as you walk through the city streets. 

When you look up at Edward, he’s already got his eyes on you, the tip of his nose pink from the late winter air. You can feel the flush spreading across your face, quickly averting your eyes to the sparkling lights of the skyscrapers. 

Edward retracts his arm from yours, and you look up at him again, confused and somewhat offended. He’s shrugging his parka off his shoulders and draping it over your own before you can even comprehend what’s happening. 

“You’re shivering. You might not feel cold because you’ve been drinking, but I can see the goosebumps on your arms.” 

He says this so matter-of-factly. Does he not realise how romantic and thoughtful his actions are? He opens his mouth to speak again, but you interrupt him. 

“Thank you.” 

He offers you that adorable lopsided grin that accentuates just how round and soft his cheeks are. 

“It’s really no problem. I don’t want you getting sick.” 

Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s just how perfect the night has been. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. Before you can second-guess yourself, you’re removing the cigarette from between his lips and replacing it with a kiss. 

He's stiff at first, unsure, before you feel a hesitant hand on your face, thumb caressing your cheek. He pulls away first, pressing his forehead to yours, and you can practically see the stars in his eyes. 

“...Wow.” 

You suddenly feel bashful, pulling away from him completely and taking a drag from your cigarette. 

“Sorry, I-” 

“Why are you apologising?” 

You meet his gaze again, his glasses fogged up, but not enough to conceal the way his brow knits with worry, the apprehension in his eyes. 

“I don’t know, I- I should have asked first.” 

He takes your hand in his own, his smile so comforting that you feel all your worries melt away almost instantaneously. 

“You don’t ever have to worry about asking me something like that. The answer will always be yes.” 

He kisses you again, softly, and you can taste the tobacco on his tongue, making your head spin. His other hand comes to rest on your hip, squeezing it reassuringly as he takes your breath away. 

You pull away first this time, readjusting his glasses which have slipped down his nose. 

“Do you want to come back to my place?” 

Edward’s face goes entirely red at your suggestion, and he stumbles over his words as he tries to string together a coherent sentence. 

“I- um, well...” 

You smile patiently, and he returns it somewhat hesitantly. 

“I’ve- I’ve really enjoyed our night together, and I, just, um... I like you so much that, ah, I don’t really think we should rush anything. You’ve had a bit to drink, and I would hate to take advantage of that.” 

Your eyes sting at his rejection as you attempt to muster up a tight-lipped smile, nodding stiffly. Edward’s smile drops. 

“Oh dear, I’ve upset you, haven’t I?” 

When you don’t quite meet his eyes, he sighs and gently holds your hand, giving you the chance to push him away. When you don’t, he pushes a little further, holding your chin between two fingers and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. 

“I’m not lying when I say I like you. I really do, and I would hate to rush something as important as... that... especially when you’re intoxicated. I don’t want you to have any regrets. You're too special.” 

Your heart leaps at his words, and you give Edward a small smile. It was never about him, or his comfort. He’s worried that you’d regret sharing yourself with him. 

“I... yeah. I guess I’m just used to guys only expecting one thing out of a date. I really like you too, Eddie.” 

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, offering you his hand. 

“Let me walk you home?” 

You nod, leaning into his side.  

Edward, of course, knows exactly where you live, but feigns ignorance as you take the lead back to your apartment. He'd know your building anywhere, thanks to his tendency to follow you home after work to ensure your safety, but being in front of it now, with you by his side, feels so fresh and new that it’s almost as if he’s seeing it for the first time. 

It's falling apart, of course. Every building in Gotham that isn’t owned by someone extremely wealthy is. Crude graffiti adorns the crumbling brick walls, and he feels you stiffen up beside him when you notice a couple of shady guys, probably dealing drops, only a few feet away. 

“It’s not exactly... the best area. Will you at least wait for your cab in my apartment? I really don’t want you getting mugged, or worse.” 

Even with his impressive height, you’re worried Edward could be a target. His smart clothes definitely don’t help. 

Edward can hardly believe his luck at finally being able to see the inside of your apartment. Of course, he’s seen it from outside your window when he’s perched on your fire escape late at night, but this is different. This is intimate. Even though he’d turned down your offer for sex, you’re still revealing such a personal aspect of yourself to him. 

You trust him. 

You lead him into the rundown building, apologising for the elevator that has been broken for months. He already knows that, but nods anyway.  

“That’s okay. Five flights of stairs won’t do me any harm.” 

When you finally make it inside, he perches somewhat awkwardly on your couch, his height making the piece of furniture appear ridiculously small. You curl up on the other side of the sofa, giving him his space as he books an Uber home. 

The silence is thick, but comfortable. Edward is so engrossed in his phone that you’re finally given the chance to really study his features. The curve of his strong nose that holds up his glasses, the roundness of his cheeks, the softness of his jaw. The warmth of the numerous lamps scattered around your apartment light up his face with a soft glow that makes him look almost cherubic. 

Edward glances at you, clearly feeling your intense gaze. He doesn’t seem anywhere near as nervous as usual, his smile relaxed. 

“You okay?” 

You prop your head up with your hand and nod, content. 

“You’re so handsome, you know?” 

His cheeks grow pink, his smile a little more shy. His voice is a whisper when he speaks. 

“Thank you.” 

You lapse into another comfortable silence as he returns to his phone, the smile never leaving his face. His phone chimes and he stands reluctantly. 

“Cab’s nearly here...” 

You walk him to the door, and he lingers for a moment. 

“Can I-?” 

You don’t give him time to finish, tugging him down by his collar and pressing your lips to his in another soft kiss. His hands find refuge at your waist, pulling you closer to him. You run your hands up his sides, and he reacts with a delicious shiver to your utter delight. Gathering your nerves, you tease his lower lip with a nibble, and he chases your mouth with a soft groan when you pull away from him.  

You grin at his flustered state, his cheeks red and glasses fogged up, his sandy fringe ruffled beyond repair. You press one more lingering kiss to his lips before unlocking your door. 

“You said your taxi’s nearly here?” 

A chuckle escapes Edward, an octave lower than what you’re used to, and your knees go weak at the sound. He runs his hand through his hair, adjusting his glasses. 

“You are so cruel.” 

You glance down, immediately realising what he’s referencing, and giggle giddily. 

“You’ll just have to wait for next time, I guess.” 

He sighs, a dazed smile on his face. 

“So, you want me to take you out again?” 

You roll your eyes playfully, standing on your tiptoes so that your mouth is on level with his ear. You run a hand down his chest, your voice a sultry purr. 

“I thought that much was obvious.” 

Edward breathes out heavily through his nose and you smile innocently at him before kissing his cheek. The tension is shattered by the loud sound of his ringtone and you both jump back, the spell broken. Edward smiles apologetically at you when he answers the phone before panic spreads across his face. You can faintly hear a very angry man shouting at him on the other side of the line. 

“Yes, yes! Sorry! I’ll be right there! Sorry!” 

The other caller hangs up and you snort, pushing him gently out the door. 

“Don’t let me keep you any longer from the most awkward ride home of your life. Are you gonna tell the driver you left him waiting so long because you were making out with your colleague?” 

Edward stumbles over his words, the flush on his cheeks somehow deepening.  

“I, ah, will not be doing that. Christ, I’m going to have to tip him even more than I was planning to, aren’t I?” 

You giggle and Edward laughs too, giving you one last quick kiss before practically throwing himself down the stairs. 

You close your door, sighing dreamily like the protagonist of a cheesy rom-com. You shoot Edward a quick text and sink onto your sofa, your heart thrumming. You'd gotten him to open up. You're going to go on another date. You kissed him. As far as first dates go, you’d chalk that up to being pretty successful.  

The rest of your evening is spent texting back and forth with Edward, and when you finally roll into bed your brain is clouded with thoughts of him, his smile, the feeling of his lips on yours. You’re so focused on the image of Edward’s silly flustered smile after you kissed him for the first time that your rational thinking completely skips over one minor detail that you’ll have completely forgotten by the time you wake up. 

How did he know what floor you live on? 

[choccy-milky]

hey! They already asked you but I don't know if you forgot hehe, what are the mbti of Clora and Sebastian? 😸

OK, I FINALLY HAVE AN ANSWER!! took me a hot minute to figure out sebs, but after reading all the pages and comparing, i do think entp fits him the best. also i saw this picture on pinterest about a relationship between isfj and entp and its so true, esp the "do not listen to each other's advice, still get each other out of trouble" LMFAO. also the 'protecting isfj at all costs' 🥺🥺🥺im soft. (ALSO DONT COME AT ME I KNOW I SPELLED KNOWLEDGEABLE WRONG IM TOO LAZY TO FIX IT😭) OKAY!! and its been a while so i'll be using this ask to reply to a buncha others🙏🙏

my fanfic does follow the plot of the game, but with sebastian added to every sidequest/story mission. and then from around the third (niamh's) trial, it starts to branch more into (mostly all) original stuff!^^

yes actually LMAO, clora's lawley-slap wasn't even planned. but as i was writing it i started to get so offended on her behalf i was like GIRL, SLAP THIS BITCH🤬 so she did😇😇 id say its normal, yeah! even tho i stick to my outlines, a lot of what happens just kinda happens without my prior planning as i begin to write bahaha, especially dialogue scenes.

aw, im glad u like my blog so much and that it can help u even in the smallest of ways 😭thank u!!💖💖

BAHAHA AWW TYY IM GLAD U LIKE IT SO MUCH!! i saw u re-reading it recently on wattpad and ur comments always have me dying. also im just gonna address your other ask here in this one, but as u know seb has now met mr.clemons, and you 10000% nailed the dynamic between seb and clora's dad LMFAOO, they will absolutely bond over disagreeing with how careless she is and wanting to protect her/stressing over her LOOL. ty again for all ur messages, i love seeing how much u love my art/fic😭💖

OMG u are so right i need to draw this

also god idk....following the sebinis example, i guess they'd be...sebora?? reminds me of sephora LMAO. ive also had someone call them "alliteration shipping" which i think is so cute BAHAHA. HONESTLY PPL CAN JUST SAY WHATEVER THEY WANT, i aint picky.

oh god its been too long since ive read the books (tho i do really wanna re-read them esp in the winter) but my fav movie is half blood prince, just because i love all the ron/hermione moments and the highschool drama BAHAHA. what do u mean harry potter isnt a romcom??? ok and last but DEFS not least

THE UNHINGED ENERGY OF THIS ASK CRACKED ME UP SO MUCH WHEN U SENT IT BAHAHAH, couldnt even fit the whole thing in my screenshot. IM GLAD U LIKED/HATED THE CHAP, and also your pfp just makes everything you say funnier, i love it LMAOOO. ty🙏🙏

[quintelly]

THE OTHER WOMAN

Pairings- Theodore Nott x female! Reader

Summary- You've always known deep down that you were infact the other woman but you didn't expect it to have it spelled out infront of you

📍First time writing angst so please give tips or suggestions for other fics :3

Angst w/o comfort :3 Masterlist

You knew about it all along but you didn't expect it to hurt as much.

It hurt because you realized you just one of his many choices, you were just lucky you got picked

It really was tiring thinking if you were good enough, thinking if you could even compare to her. You did not in the slightest way, and right now it has never been clearer.

"Teddy, you wanna hang out tomorrow? Ive got a movie day plan for us"

"Dont call me that. And no i can't im busy."

"Oh then when are you free?"

"Fucking hell y/n you're so annoying can you shut the fuck up?"

"Oh sorry"

"God i don't even know why i put up with you"

With that he left the room, leaving you with tears spilling from your eyes.

You've been trying to reach out to him doing anything you could to get his attention. All he did was scoff or walk away.

While you were taking a walk in god knows where you saw a flower thag reminded you of him. Theodore.

You couldn't help but smile sadly because while you're out here thinking of him, he's out there not sparing you a thought.

It doesn't matter though, he'll come around. He'll love you as much as you love him. Right?

.

.

.

.

A day went by, and you've heard just now that he's been in a fight. You suddenly got worried and rushed your way to the hospital wing which people said he was getting healed in.

On the way, you saw him.

'Oh god im glad he's ok.' You thought but then you saw her with him

Oh.

You ran away as fast as possible before they could see you

Then finally your pandoras box has been opened.

It really was pathetic on how you thought you could really be the one for him.

You thought you would be the one to make him smile and laugh like he was right now. With her.

It was pathetic TRULY pathetic.

Who were YOU to make him feel that way? You were nothing, a nobody. You just got lucky

Its was pitiful that YOU thought you could change him, fix him, love him.

You couldn't, you never could and you never will. Because you were a no one.

No one in comparison to him.

He was everything and you were nothing.

You really were never enough and you were a fool to believe that there was a chance, a little chance that you were.

You were a fool, an idiot to fall to his charms, to his sweet whispers, to his promises, to his capability of actually falling in love, with YOU.

You were in a delusional state to think that the both of you would actually work.

Then you realized, every time he would cancle or say he was 'busy' He was probably out with her.

You were that replacable. No.

You were never the 1st choice to begin with.

You were nothing to be replaced. You werent anything to be replaced. YOU werent worth ANYTHING, to be replaced and he made it known the very next day.

.

.

.

While passing through the hall you saw him, with her. Showing her around like a trophy.

It hurts because he didnt even do that to you. He said,

"I want to keep us a secret because i dont want anyone stealing you away from me"

what a fool you were to believe that.

Unfortunatley he spotted you and stared for a while. And to add she noticed.

"Teddy, do you know her?"

"No my love, just some delusional girl that annoyed me before"

Oh.

He never saw you as anything but a plaything. He just liked the attention you gave him. The feeling you gave him.

It was all it was. You were just something that boosted his ego because after all,

Who were you to love him?

.

.

.

.

Fin (?)

[ncteez]

On Edge. (m.l)

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

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

WORDCOUNT― 22.5k

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

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

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

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

smut tags under cut:: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “You know what Wednesday is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ~

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

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

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

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

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

             Doyoung was great at texting you back too.

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

            You: for three hours?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            Doie: plans? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “A ploy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Because you’re cute?”

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

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

             Second opening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “N-no.” He says quickly. “Did you?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Wait–” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “I mean,” He admits. “Sometimes.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

             The jealousy hits again. It isn’t fair.

 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

             Stupid. 

 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ~

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

             MarkLee99_ sent a photo: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

MarkLee99_ : …because i do

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

 You: oh yeah, you’re definitely drunk

MarkLee99_ : am i being too weird? 

MarkLee99_ : because you’re the one who started it

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

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

You: that’s……fair….

MarkLee99_ : so… :) 

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

 You: what are you drinking?

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

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

MarkLee99_ : yep

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

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

MarkLee99_ : because i want you 

             Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

MarkLee99_ : yea

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

MarkLee99_ : yesterday

You: oh yeah? 

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

MarkLee99_ : can you maybe wear them again

             God, he really is that desperate. 

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

You: i’ll think about it 

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

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

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

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

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

MarkLee99_ : wait what

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

 You: are you all flustered now?

MarkLee99_ : maybe,,,,

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

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

MarkLee99_ : would you?

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

You: flustered now?

MarkLee99_ : yea, wanna see?

MarkLee99_  sent a photo: 

You:  jesus christ

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

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

You: you looked hot when you did it tho

MarkLee99_ : am i really that big? 

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

MarkLee99_ : could have one ;) 

You: ….yeah

MarkLee99_ : yeah? 

MarkLee99_  sent a photo: 

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

 You sent a photo: 

 MarkLee99_ : oh fuck 

MarkLee99_ : you’re wet?

MarkLee99_ : sorry i wasnt expecting that

MarkLee99_ : can i save it

You:  :) 

 You sent a photo: 

 MarkLee99_ : you should give me those panties instead

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

MarkLee99_ : will you still wear the other ones too?

You: you want //two// pairs?

MarkLee99_ : yeah :( 

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

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

 MarkLee99_ : can i call you?

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

 You: I’m waiting. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “In my panties.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Wet for you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ~

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

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

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

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

 ~

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

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

 ~

 “Mark,” Haechan grits through the mic. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ~

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

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

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

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

 “Head is pounding.” 

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

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

             Later, you wake to Doyoung gently patting your cheek. 

 “You want some food? Might help?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Doie: good news and great news

You: oh? :o 

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

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

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

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

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

 Doie: I leave tomorrow if I accept.

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

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

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

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

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

Doie: love you babe :) 

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

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

 Mark: Doyoung’s leaving for 3 days

You: yep :) 

Mark: ….do i even need to say it

You: nope

Mark: gonna clean my room

 ~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Yeah, but–” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

             Somehow, he lightens the mood.

 “Damn, I must be special.”

             You guess he is.

  ~

[ramblingoak]

Building A Family

Another peek into the steampunk Copia fic I'm working on because I can't help myself. Check out the previous story here: Clockwork Friends.

A young Copia (probably about 5 or 6 years old) trying to settle in at his new home.

Warnings: angst, sfw, 1k words (thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers!)

Copia’s oldest clockwork rat is Aldo and he made him when he was just a young boy, barely able to read and write.

After being dropped off to live with his apparent father Nihil, Copia was mostly left to his own devices.  His brothers were busy with their own lives and didn’t want to deal with the burden of another Emeritus heir.  The sprawling estate they lived on was closed off from the rest of the city by high walls that were patrolled by mechanical golems.  Not to mention the reputation of the Emeritus family itself.  Most of the city was convinced they were more machine than human these days.  

On a particularly lonely day Copia found himself near tears as he wandered the halls. He spent the beginning of his life in an orphanage surrounded by other children.  An endless amount of people to play with and talk to.  Here it was just him.  It was bad enough his own family didn’t seem to want anything to do with him but even the ghouls avoided him.  

Copia finally stopped when he walked by a strangely silent grandfather clock.  It loomed over him much like Nihil had done the day he was picked up from the orphanage.  The hands of the clock were still and Copia’s fingers started twitching, the urge to fix it growing stronger by the second.  It wasn’t until he had dragged a nearby chair over and started taking the clock face apart that he had an idea for another purpose for it.

“Can you hear me?”

It was hours later, the grandfather clock now just a corpse of its former self.  Copia had brought all the parts he needed into his room and spread them out on the floor.  A ghoul had come by when it had gotten dark, dropping off a plate of food and getting a fire going.  He had lingered for some time after, seemingly content to silently watch Copia work.  They had only left when Copia found himself getting frustrated when the tiny creature in front of him remained silent.

Tears began to prick at his eyes again and he struggled to keep them from falling down his cheeks.  He was just so lonely, all he wanted was something to keep him company.  It didn’t matter to him whether it was a machine or not.  Right now he had no one.  No friends…no family…just an empty house full of memories he wasn’t a part of.  With a whimper he dropped his head into his hands, his small shoulders starting to shake as the tears started to come in earnest. 

“Try this.”  Copia’s head shot up, his eyes meeting that of the ghoul that had managed to sneak back in.  The firelight danced across his silver mask and Copia shivered when it made it seem like his eyes were on fire as well.  He finally looked down to see a small metal object in its hand, the gold contrasting with the black metal of his fingers.  “This will bring it to life.”

After a few more trips to the destroyed grandfather clock Copia had re-worked his little creation to utilize what the ghoul had brought him.  Copia’s hand shook as he inserted the gold key into its back.  He could hear the gears turn as he twisted it, over and over again until he felt confident it was enough.  As delicately as possible he lowered it back to the ground, afraid to let go in case it didn’t work.  

In case his new friend remained silent.

“It’s ok.”  

Copia looked up at the ghoul, forgetting he had stuck around to watch.  It was impossible to know what the ghoul was thinking but Copia saw something in his eyes that he had only seen a few other times in his young life.  Kindness and understanding shone there, emotions so strong that Copia had to look away quickly lest he got upset again.  He took a deep breath and slowly pulled his hands away, trembling as he waited for something to happen.

It was slow at first, timid as it began to move around the rug Copia was sitting on.  After a few unsure first steps it gained confidence and crept closer to him on shaky legs.  Copia was afraid to touch it, afraid he’d break the spell the small thing might be under.  When a tiny metal paw touched his leg Copia finally smiled and reached down to scoop it up in his hands.

“Hello.”  The small metal rat twitched its nose, as if it could smell whether Copia was a friend or not.  “H-how do you feel?”

The door to his room opening and closing made him look up briefly but Copia didn’t give the ghoul leaving another thought.  He was too enamored by what he had created.  The clockwork rat was busy looking around the room, his limbs still shaky against Copia’s hands.  He was already thinking of ways to improve the design, of how he could make his new friend stronger.  

After a few moments its small body started to stop, the key moving slower and slower on its back.  Copia set it back down on the rug and ran a finger up and down its head.  It was a comforting gesture for both of them and neither one looked away from each other until the key had completely stopped.  

Copia sat back on his heels, his eyes quickly looking around the room as he thought of what he would need.  He had a responsibility now to his new friend.  He needed to take care of it, to make it healthy and happy.  Copia was prepared to do whatever he could to make sure that happened.  With a grunt he stretched out on his stomach in front of the rat, reaching out and winding the key up again.  When it came to life once more it immediately walked forward and bumped noses with him.

“I’m going to name you Aldo, ok?”  The rat's nose moved across his face, the small whiskers he had given him tickling his cheek.  “Welcome home.”

Some more baby steampunk Copia here 💙

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

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[mvltisstuff]

Would you maybe write an Eddie Diaz x reader fic where she is cooking dinner and burns or cuts herself. Enough that they have to go to the ER and then just fluffy him helping her out after they get home...

night changes - e.d

summary: above :)

eddie diaz x reader

the fierce odor of the onions and smell of spices were overwhelming y/n’s nose, making her eyes water. she was chopping away at the onion, preparing a nice dinner for eddie, christopher, and herself. eddie was assisting, along with christopher who was sprinkling in some more flavoring into the pan. night like these were casual, but perfect. spending time with her two favorite people was the highlight of her days.

her relationship with eddie had its ups and downs, like any relationship might, but they were thriving now. both of them had steady jobs and were spending so much time together. they’d gotten extremely close over the years, and y/n spoke so gently to him and his son in ways that melted his big heart.

eddie adored her since the moment he met her, and after shannon died and dealing with the grief of that, y/n saved him. he saved her too, with her own experiences and feelings. they pulled each other out of the deep pits they were in.

eddie glanced over at y/n, with a wide smile as she spoke with christopher. her eyes were glossy, but the pure happiness across her face was very noticeable. her laugh was contagious, making the corners of eddie’s mouth rise up.

eddie’s phone rings, and looks at the name flashing across the screen. his friend, buck, had of course called and eddie handed the phone to christopher. “hi, buck!” he said into the phone, excitedly and wandered off to speak to him.

“i swear that kid loves him more than me,” eddie jokes.

“it’s the buck effect,” she replies. “makes everyone love him.”

“well i sure hope not you…” eddie says. he walks over to y/n, planting a kiss on her cheeks. she giggles lightly before demanding him to get back to whatever he was cooking before.

“oh, cmon, you know i love you the most,” and now it was her turn to move over and give him his own kiss. they didn’t have a fear of PDA in front of chris, but eddie was definitely more comfortable when he wasn’t around to see. christopher loves y/n, being the closet person he has to having a mother. she treated him like his own from the moment they were introduced.

y/n shuffles back to her own cutting board with her slippery hands from the wet veggies. she picks up the freshly sharpened knife to continue before she feels a massive slash on her hand. the knife had slipped out of her hand, landing directly on the other leaving a deep gash on the center of her palm. “ow, shit!” she yells out making eddie’s head turn like an owl.

he spots the deep cut on her hand, rapidly dripping out dark blood onto the cutting board and on her fingers. as an reflex, he grabs as many towels as he can and presses it against her hand. “woah, easy,” he calmly says under the pressure. “you alright?” he asks, placing his free hand on her cheek, swiping away a tear.

“i think so? i mean i just split my own hand open.”

eddie notices the blood sinking deep into the towels, almost completely covering the whiteness of the cloths. he pulls them off to examine the cut. the gash was incredibly deep, and unfortunately not something that could just be fixed by a bandaid. she hisses as he touches it lightly. “sorry, you’re alright,” eddie says softly, yet again. “i think we might need a trip to the ER, amor.”

“but i haven’t finished cooki-“

“you’re worried about cooking? you have a severe laceration to your hand!”

“mm, i love when you go all paramedic on me,” y/n smiles, and eddie shakes his head, concealing his own grin.

“chris! can you bring the phone in?” eddie yells to the other room. christopher comes walking in, handing the phone to eddie. “hey, man. wanna come hang out with chris? yeah, y/n cut her hand and we’re just gonna stop at the ER. she’ll be ok, i just don’t have anyone to watch him, also, make him dinner and don’t burn the house down, please!”

buck comes speeding over to be with chris, and y/n and eddie climb into his truck. “maybe i should get lights and a siren on this thing,” he says.

“eddie, i am not dying! at this rate you’ll get pulled over and i’ll bleed out in your nice truck.”

eddie rolls his eyes and pulls into the parking lot, then leading y/n in who is clutching her gushing hand. they’re guided into a section, as an intern comes over to sew up her hand.

she examines the stitches on her hand and holds it up to eddie, who hasn’t left her side for anything. he’s sitting next to her on the bed in the ER, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. “does it look cool?” she asks.

“sure, very cool,” he smiles and kisses her as the doctor cleans up, wrapping her hand up in gauze and sending them on their way.

the next few days, eddie was a complete clinger. he stayed by her side for anything she might need, because she was down a hand.

“eddie, i’m literally pouring cereal,” she says, sighing as he tried to take the box from her.

“he’s my own son, i can do it,” he smiles at her and leads her out of the way. he wanted to do everything for her because she does the same when he is hurt. it might be hypocritical, but he couldn’t care less. he wants to be with her when she does anything, incase something bad happens again and he isn’t there. she leads him out of the kitchen and onto the couch.

“babe, look at me,” she places her fingers under his chin and guides his face to look at her. “i am fine. it is just stitches, i didn’t break my arms. you don’t need to worry!”

“i know, i just want to help you. i feel bad, that’s all.”

“why do you feel bad? it’s not your fault my hand slipped.”

“i don’t know, i just didn’t like seeing you bleeding that much out of your own hands. it looked like a murder scene.”

“well, if you’re so desperate to help,” she smirks. “you can get in that kitchen and cook.”

eddie laughs and looks at her amusingly. the way she made the best out of a bad situation, and joked as she did it was the greatest gift he could’ve asked for. “fine, but it’s not my fault if it turns out awfully.”

“oh, don’t pity yourself. practice makes perfect,” y/n concludes and they head back into the kitchen together.

[bonkhrnyjail]

sweet plum | chapter one

pairing: pedro pascal x fem!reader (plus size)

rating: g (will become explicit later)

summary: you're almost late to work picking up coffee for your client.

a/n: hello hello! i've been posting this fic on ao3 for the past few months but had a request to post here as well, so here she is !!! this chapter is just a short and sweet intro to the story, future chapters are much longer. hope you enjoy :')

p.s. i wrote this WAYYYY before the starbucks boycott (like 9 months before) and will not be writing about starbucks in the future. free palestine. fuck starbucks.

Fuck.

You can hear the beat of your boot tapping the floor incessantly as you continue to check the lock screen of your phone, staring at the digits and jolting with every minute that passes.

You’ve never had to wait more than 5 minutes at this Starbucks, but of course the one day that your presence is absolutely essential on set, some freak decided to terrorize the staff by forcing them to remake his drink over and over, until he deemed it acceptable. You tried to intervene, but one of the baristas mouthed “It’s ok” to you over the maniac’s shoulder, so you let the situation run its course.

The curly-haired man working so diligently on your order finally calls out your name; you bolt upright and book it to the counter.

“Ok, we’ve got the grande Iced Blonde Honey Shaken Oat Milk Espresso,” he places the first drink into the carrier, “the, uh, grande Sweet Cream Cold Brew and… jesus I hope this one isn’t yours…” he lets out a chuckle, “the Venti Quad Espresso with two extra shots over ice.” He wiggles the drinks into the carrier and wedges a few straws in between the plastic cups.

“It’s not,” you manage through a chuckle, “My client needs his 'go-go juice'."

He throws his head back with laughter. Surely the joke wasn’t that funny, but you appreciate the flattery nonetheless.

“Here,” you hand the straws back to him. “Save the turtles.”

“Let me get you some napkins… oh shoot, we’re out. I’lll go grab some from the back.” He moves away from you quicker than you can stop him.

Fucking hell, you have to go now. You have 15 minutes until they actually start filming, and they need you for the inevitable touch-ups that the action of the scene will cause.

You can not fuck up this job. You’re nearly at the end of filming and you’ve been early, by some miracle, every time you were called to set. They took a chance on you, and you need to prove that they didn’t make a mistake.

“Here you go.” He emerges with a small bag in his hand. “I threw in a loaf to thank you for trying to help earlier.”

“Thank you so much, it was no problem at all,” you wedge the heavy drink carrier between your arm and your torso, “I really have to run, but I’m sure I’ll be back in the next few days, thanks again!” the words trailing behind you as you high-tail it to your car.

13 minutes.

You drive faster and more recklessly than you should, one hand on the wheel and the other stabilizing the drinks so they don’t skyrocket out of the passenger’s seat. As you finally pull into your designated stall, you see your client and his sidekick leaning on the car in the spot next to yours, motioning at invisible watches and tapping their feet. You’d think they’d be grateful that you just risked your job to get them their caffeine fix.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” you shout as you grab the carrier and bag from your car and hoist yourself up from the seat. “There was this guy, he was being a total asshole, made them make his drink like five times. Here.” you hand each of them their drinks. “P, the fucking barista laughed out loud at your order. He said he was scared for your health.” 

“Listen,” Pedro takes a comically massive gulp. “I’m not as spry as I used to be, you know. I need a little help on that front.”

You chuckle and rustle in the paper bag. “Are either of you hungry? This guy gave me a cake slice but I’m not hungry enough for the whole thing.”

“We’ll split it.” Bella reaches into the bag and grabs the napkins, dispersing them amongst the 3 of you.

“Ohhhh ho ho ho… what’s THIS!” Pedro shouts, setting his cup on the hood of the car, holding his napkin up with two hands and clears his throat. “It was really sweet what you tried to do today. I’d love to repay you and TAKE YOU OUT SOMETIME?” his voice rising in pitch and volume.

He shows it to Bella and they start cackling. “It even has a little heart on it!” Bella exclaims through their giggles.

“Let me see that!” you snatch it out of Bella’s hands. The two of them start oohing and making kissy noises, prompting you to roll your eyes.

"What'd you try to do?" Bella pries. You ignore them.

“Are you guys literally 10 years old? Jesus.” you try to hold back your embarrassment as you examine the note. It has a phone number written at the bottom, signed with “xo”.

“You’re gonna call him, right?” Bella tore off a piece of the cake and passed the remainder to Pedro.

“No—” you hiss, instantly regretting the speed and intensity at which you responded. “I don’t know. Maybe? I guess he's handsome, but I don’t… know him… can we just drop it? We’re gonna be late.”

You want this attention off of you as soon as possible. You feel a hot flush prickle your cheeks and you turn your face away from the two of them, pretending to rustle through your bag and grab something.

“That's what a first date is for, dipshit! Man, you’re impossible.” Bella lets out an exasperated sigh. “Whatever,” they say, grabbing the napkin. “I’ll call him then, do it myself.”

You shake your head, chuckles still escaping your lips. “I think he might be a bit old for you, Bellie, but knock yourself out I guess.”

“That's not what I— You think I want a man? Please don’t insult me like that ever again.” Bella starts half-walking, half-skipping towards the elaborate set scattered with cast and crew. You follow their lead, Pedro trailing close behind.

“Hey, don’t listen to them. You do whatever makes you the most comfortable.” Pedro puts his arm around your shoulder and gives it a little squeeze. Your body shivers under the warmth of his touch and you manage a nod.

“Thanks.” you look up, finding him already gazing down at you, cocoa brown eyes twinkling and crinkled by a sweet smile.

“Anytime, sweet plum.”

. . . . .

chapter two

[gyusimp]

hiii,

first of all I LOVE your work and your writing, it’s incredible how you capture your writing and I find your gyutaro fics to be very spicy yet creative.

I would love if you could make a college fic (or a high school fic, which ever one your comfortable with) where the reader is a shy, nerdy girl who has volunteered to work at the library during summer break at night time. As they’re working they bend over to fix the printer and get stuck or they ask gyutaro to hold some cords so they can reach into the printer to fix something inside the cabinet.

anyways use your imagination I know you wont let me down <3

°•Library nights with Gyutaro•° (Nsfw)

Thank you so much sweet little anon! I'm glad you like my horny nonsense lol. You said you liked spicy so I took the liberty of making your request NSFW since you didn't specify, but if you had something fluff and SFW in mind please don't hesitate to tell me and I'll rewrite a version for everyone, ok? 🍬

⚠️WARNINGS: NSFW content | Smut content | Kimetsu Gakuen AU but both are adults for some reason | MINORS DNI!

Art credits: @ bluethebone on IG

Summer vacation was just around the corner at Kimetsu Gakuen. Some teachers would take turns to rest and to work on planning their classes and some projects for when the students had returned, some students would even take turns to support the teachers in their tasks. It was a task that no one wanted to do, besides you, the only ones who accepted were a red-haired boy with flashy earrings, another with long black hair with mint eyes and a little black-haired girl with blue eyes and a soft voice. It wasn't because your greatest desire in life was to help the teachers, you found out that extra points would be given in some subjects and that would help you maintain a good average in your classes as you did until now, besides, your mother was all day at work just like your dad so being at home all day would be quite boring.

That led you to volunteer as an assistant at the school. Principal Amane introduced you to your classmates and assigned each of them a time and place where they would be collaborating. Tanjiro would help with some repairs inside the cafeteria, Muichiro would be in the playground and gym, Makomo would be in Kimetsu Elementary, and you would be in the library. The others seemed to be very nice and they were, they all ate together with you at lunch time and as the days went by you became very close, Tanjiro even brought you all some cookies from his family's bakery. Today you would be on the afternoon shift, after another boy named Murata joined the volunteering later, you would take turns with him to help in the library. The afternoon shift was very quiet, generally you only had to organize books in their areas, clean and keep everything in its place, you even took the liberty of listening to some music on your airphones and reading a book that was of interest to you .

Today you would continue reading that romantic novel you found yesterday but when you arrived your plans changed. You entered the library with your things, it was always empty but today you found someone inside, a student. And not just any student, it was Gyutaro Shabana.

The guy was known as a delinquent within the school, he always spent time in detention or causing problems for students and teachers, especially the art teacher. Despite that, you embarrassingly had to admit that you found him quite attractive despite his reputation and everyone else thinking otherwise so your heart skipped a beat when you found him here and saw how he examined you from head to toe with one look

"H-hello," You barely said, entering and walking towards your spot at the library reception.

The boy didn't respond, he simply continued doing his thing next to a pile of books and sheets on the table, biting a pencil between his crooked teeth. You couldn't stand it, being so close to Shabana made you nervous. You tried to do anything to keep yourself busy but at the same time admire him from a distance. His hunched posture working in the chair, his blue eyes looking down and his thin fingers writing notes in hasty and poorly legible handwriting. The guy had something that made him uniquely attractive, interesting, sexy in your opinion. Doubt gnawed at you to know what he was doing here on vacation, but it wasn't until the next day that you dared to ask him.

"Summer school and shit" he replied.

Gyutaro was very intelligent but very lazy at times so that led him to get unsatisfactory grades and having to attend remedial classes during the vacations. He thought the same thing happened to you but he didn't hesitate to shamelessly mock you when you told him that you helped the school of your own free will. According to him it was the most pathetic decision he had ever seen someone make in their life. His comments were cruel like a joke but you didn't dislike it at all, you usually joke in a similar way with your closest friends so the time you started spending with Gyutaro wasn't anything new or offensive. You spent this entire week talking to him, he told you that he preferred to go to school in the afternoon since in the morning he was in charge of spending time with his sister and preparing lunch for both of them, then his mother would come home after work and she would take care of Ume while he studied here. Well, in theory, Gyutaro ended up procrastinating most of the time in the library after his math classes with Mr. Shinazugawa, on more than one occasion you found him asleep on the table, playing something on his cell phone or worse, watching videos too spicy even if you were around; you had to call his attention after a woman's moan broke out in the middle of the silence of the library when he thought his airphones were connected to his cell phone.

It was Monday again but this week you wouldn't be seeing Gyutaro because Murata would cover the morning shift, your shift was from 7:00 am - 2:00 Gyutaro's classes started at 3:00 pm then one more hour in the library until he got tired and went home so you could only talk to him via text. Yes, you gave him your contact and he gave you his, which is very unusual for him unless he really likes someone but either way neither of you ended up writing anything to the other. Embarrassment consumed you when you opened his chat so you preferred to talk to him until next week in person. Next monday arrived and you were eager to see him, your heart was beating a mile an hour and as soon as you entered you took care of greeting him and sitting next to him at the usual table, that was the same until Wednesday. On Thursday you were planning to do the same but your plans were affected. Mr. Rengoku needed some printed handouts with readings, exercises and questions for his students in the summer school History class, the man arrived with a smile before going home that day and handed you a USB with the document to to print 20 brochures for tomorrow. Each brochure had approximately 12 pages so your entire afternoon had been taken up next to the printer thanks to the young blond man with the loud voice, you got to work so you wouldn't have to stay late.

From time to time Gyutaro would get up from his chair to hover near you and ask you what the hell you were doing, why you were surrounded by sheets, a whole valley of paper around you. You explained as you organized everything on the computer and programmed the 20 copies on the printer. The device was not very recent and you had to monitor each of the sheets that came out so that it worked correctly until the most feared thing happened. The paper jammed. You tried with your life to move and fix it but the damn thing just didn't obey your orders so you swallowed your shame and went to find Gyutaro to give you a hand.  Both of you examined the machine, checking inputs, cables and so on until it made a very strange robotic noise. 

"Some printers open from the back, have you checked there?" Gyutaro asked while checking some cables.

"You're right, not yet." Gyutaro moved the device to give you access to the back, you leaned over the wooden furniture and began to look for a door or removable piece to unclog the paper.

Gyutaro was trying to help you by checking cables and other things until he finally got grumpy and gave up before smashing the printer against the wall. He took a couple steps back and crossed his arms as he watched you, cursing on the other side. His eyes were on the printer but then they went to your hair, to your arms moving repetitively, to your legs and the pressure that your white stockings caused on your thigh fat and then to your skirt, your butt peeking out shamelessly from under it and it seemed like you didn't know it. The movements you made made Gyutaro's mind fly much further, Shabana is an undoubtedly perverted guy and that was not a secret to anyone. A pressure began to build under his pants, colliding with the beige fabric of his uniform, making him walk towards you and was about to grab your waist with both hands, but he was interrupted by your voice.

"I got it!" You said excitedly, after hearing the printer return to work.

You sorted the paper and made sure to count the pages to resume printing, you were about to return to your chair but Gyutaro cornered you against the desk with both arms next to your hips, it made you very nervous seeing him so close.

"Wow, you have very skillful hands..." he said, smiling at you with many hints.

You didn't know what to do, were you imagining everything? Your cheeks burned in a second and something inside you made you play along.

"I know, I know how to do some things."

Gyutaro smiled mischievously at you, looked at you from head to toe and dared to caress your leg, bringing one hand to your butt under your uniform skirt.

"Really? Why don't you show me instead of bragging, huh?" He said, lifting you onto the desk with both hands, positioning himself between your legs.

Something warmed inside you, the speed in your chest made you smile back at him and grab him by the back of his neck to kiss him on the lips as he approached you. Gyutaro kissed you with desperation and inexperience but that didn't mean it didn't feel fucking good, the blue-eyed boy licked every part of your mouth, kissed your neck and left wet, hungry marks on your collarbones while making you choke on moans when he rubbed his member in the middle of your thighs.

"G-Gyutaro...someone could come." You said, trying to push him away and make him see reason.

"Do you think anyone is still here?" He scoffed. "Don't be stupid, that's why teachers offer high scores if you come to volunteer, everyone is at home while the stupid students do the work they should." He huffed between kisses on your neck.

"B-but, what if a student comes?" Your voice sounded worried despite the desire in it.

"Then they will learn not to mess with my woman."

Hearing him say that turned you on so much, you didn't know if it was because Gyutaro was also aroused that he said that but without a doubt that he claimed you as his without giving a damn about the others turned you to a pulp in his arms. 

Gyutaro's hands went to your shirt to get rid of your green tie and open each of your buttons to leave more desperate, wet kisses on your breasts, leaving red marks on your soft skin and shiny trails of his hot saliva, you grabbed his shoulders and you unbuttoned his shirt too to see his torso. He looked like a very thin boy, actually, his waist was quite small but his chest and arms were very strong. You brought both hands to his chest and caressed him sensually, lightly running your nails over him and playing with his nipples while he devoured you with kisses and nibbled you, with his hands never leaving your butt under your skirt for a second, playing with the lace of your panties. You leaned a little to kiss his neck and trapezius, Gyutaro's collarbones were very pronounced and while you licked his skin in the middle of kisses, you moved your hands towards his back to grab his butt and try to put your hands under his pants but he quickly stopped you. He grabbed both your hands tightly and didn't allow you to move forward.

"I thought you wanted me to show you my skills," you told him, mockingly.

"I changed my mind. I'll show you, okay?" He spoke firmly and authoritatively, making your panties wet.

Gyutaro brushed the hair from your neck and kissed your shoulders roughly until he slowly pushed you to lie down on the desk, leaving your legs dangling. Your hands tangled in his greenish curls, you couldn't help but moan at every touch of his long fingers, he lifted your skirt up to the top of your thighs and began to unbutton his belt and pants until he left his naked member exposed. Looking down and noticing how big he was, the blue eyed boy spit into his palm and began pumping his cock so it dripped more between his fingers, eager to fill you completely. Seeing the "V" shaped lines on Gyutaro's abdomen just above his member made you shiver with pleasure, just below his navel you could see a small trail of black hair. You desperately hoped that Gyutaro would take off your panties or you would do it yourself but when you saw his hand reach towards your core and feel his fingers sliding down your slit it was a much bigger relief. Gyutaro was aware of the risk that someone could get in, so he decided to leave your panties in place and just move them to the side with his index finger, watching with desire how wet you were and how you filled his fingers with small, slippery transparent threads.

"I bet you're really tight." He told you, licking his fingers and pulling your panties aside again.

Gyutaro stimulated your hole with his fingers with a couple of movements but when he felt your soft walls taking him warmly, his ambition made him take his cock and insert it directly into you, making you moan loudly, arching your back, instinctively opening your legs wider to receive him. You could feel Gyutaro stretching you, your moans accompanied his gasps and the sound of the printer doing its job, your uniform was a complete hindrance to both of you until you changed positions and Gyutaro put you face down on the desk. He entered you again and gave you a couple of spanks making you gasp his name.

"I love how you beg for me, you nerdy little bitch." He hissed, drunk with pleasure.

Gyutaro's moans were increasing, he took the audacity to lower his hands to your chest and put both hands inside your bra to massage your breasts while he fucked you. Your legs fought to keep you firm but each thrust weakened you more, you felt your clit throb and your hole get wetter and wetter until a lot of wet sounds filled the library, sweat ran under your knees and you felt drops running between your thighs without stopping, you didn't know if they were your juices. You clenched roughly making Gyutaro moan and curse, picking up speed as you were hit by your orgasm, an electrifying and abundant one that left you trembling beneath him, creating a slippery ring around Gyutaro's cock inside your swollen pussy. You were empty-minded, blinded by lust until you suddenly felt empty all of a sudden. You looked back and realized that Gyutaro had cum all over your thighs and part of the desk. So he pulled out of you before his orgasm.

Gyutaro was agitated just like you, his chest rising and falling and his bangs falling messily over his sweaty forehead, the perfect feeling of your tight pussy still had him seeing stars. You composed yourself and organized your panties and uniform, you noticed that even the 20 pamphlets had finished printing so you reluctantly organized them to finish stapling them tomorrow.

Your face began to burn, becoming aware of what had just happened, you didn't know if Gyutaro had done this because he was simply horny or because he actually liked you. It was something that you would analyze with your pillow tonight so you preferred to say goodbye to him briefly.

"See you tomorrow." You said, grabbing your things.

Gyutaro didn't say anything, he left his backpack where it was and began to walk towards you without taking his eyes off you, for a second you thought he was going to kill you until he took you by the waist and gave you a kiss on the lips, slowly and delicious making you melt again.

"We just fucked and that's all you're saying?" He scoffed, making you blush. "I love you as much as I love your pussy, stupid girl. At least say 'thank you' or some shit."

"I-I... me too- i mean...ok."

Gyutaro couldn't help but laugh at your inability to speak and the deep red painting your face, he finds you very adorable. "Next time we can do it completely naked, okay?" Gyutaro said, giving you a small spank.

That night he offered to take you home on his motorcycle.

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Hii idk if your request are open and if you write polly but could you write a sugawara x daichi x asahi x reader

Where the reader moves from their home country and to Japan and it’s how they meet the three their are a first and it’s how they end up together idk if that makes sense sorry :)

AHHHH YES! There is not nearly enough daisugasahi x reader fics and its a crime against humanity. I will gladly fix that though so I hope you enjoy!

Poly! Daichi, Asahi, and Suga with a foreign reader

Warnings: none

Gn! reader

(The country reader comes from is not named so anyone can read this)

-Moving from your home country to Japan was certainly a nerve wracking experience, especially since you’d be attending your last year of grade school amongst new people in an unfamiliar place, in a language you aren’t proficient in. After a few weeks of loneliness you decide that you won’t sit still and be a loner the whole school year.

-You thought that getting involved in something, a club, and team, anything with other people might help you make a couple friends might be good for you, and you heard a pretty cute guy in your bio class talk about how the men’s volleyball team could use a second manager, so you decide to apply for the position

-When you go into the gym to meet the team for the first time, you’re immediately bombarded by two very eager second years and and a short red headed first year who were very curious as to who you were (the school doesn’t get students from other countries often so they were curious about you)

-Suga takes pity on you and puts the team to practice while you, Daichi, Kiyoko, Ukai and Takeda go over your new duties as a manager with you, and you eventually start your time as Karasunos manager

-The first few weeks are pretty eventful for you, you’re just getting to know the ropes of the job and also getting to know everybody on the team. It doesn’t help that there was some drama between some of the team members and the former team ace (or the fact that after it was all said and done he joined the team again), and it certainly didn’t help that you had to train another new manger when your still new yourself (you don’t blame Yachi though, it’s not her fault, and besides, she’s a very sweet kid).

-It was hard adjusting to the club environment at first, but Kiyoko made sure to introduce you properly to everyone, which is how you ended up talking to the 3rd years more. As much as you both love the 1st and 2nd year students, you need to make friends in your own grade

-Kiyoko begins a habit of starting hangouts for just the 3rd years, nothing big, just a few hours hanging out at a cafe or someone’s house. That’s primarily how you got to know the three third year boys, through these hangouts. It’s a great opportunity to get to know each other better in a relaxed setting

- I imagine the three were already together before they met you, so they’re all used to a polyamorous relationship by the time you came along. They never really thought that they would want to add another to their group, but then again, they didn’t know they would meet you

-Asahi probably fell first, the poor guy wears his heart on his sleeve so it’s pretty easy for him to fall for you. Suga and Daichi could see how enamored by you Asahi was, and after a little time you captured their hearts too.

-They all want to know more about your home country and culture, but no one asks more questions than Suga. He wants to know everything there is to know about your culture, your home, what living in your native country was like, what customs you have, what holidays you celebrate, everything! He’s a naturally curious guy and the other two are either too scared that they’ll bother you or worried they’ll ask something offensive

-Asahi does muster up the courage to ask you about any cultural clothing you might have, and if you’d say it’s ok to, he’d be more than happy to try and see if he can sew it himself. I can imagine him gifting you a handmade outfit if he manages to get the hang of making it for your birthday or some other holiday

-After awhile it’s painfully obvious to anyone with eyes that the trio is hardcore pining after you, it’s a wonder you don’t see it yourself! Sugar’s always trying to get your attention (much to the embarrassment of his boyfriends) Asahi’s stutter has magically appeared once again, and Daichi goes red any time you’re in close proximity to him. Honestly the whole teams just begging for them to ask you out at this point, it’s getting painful to watch

-The three have no idea how to ask you out, or if you’re even into poly relationships, so they settle for asking you to meet them at one of their houses so they can speak to you privately

-Daichi takes the lead, explaining to you how they’ve been in love with you for awhile and that they would really love to date you, but they all understand if you don’t like them or if you aren’t comfortable being in a poly relationship. They all kind of expect you to say no, simply because their relationship is very much outside the norm, but there’s still a little hope inside each of them that you’ll say yes

-When you do say yes, everyone is over the moon. Asahi nearly starts sobbing from joy and relief (he totally thought you were going to reject them), Suga practically tackles you in a hug, and Daichi let’s put a huge sigh of relief before prying Suga off of you. Prepare for a long night of cuddles because now that the boys have you, they’re determined to spend as much time with you as possible

[violetwhisperswolfstar]

The Evolution Of A Wolfstar Girlie

(with my fic recommendations)me aged 10-23: there will never be a book I like more than Harry Potter. I love books and read all the time but Harry Potter is above anything. Reread HP everytime I am feeling down.

me aged 24-30: I lost the ability to read for pleasure. Just read to my kids and A LOT for work.

me at 31: *after a random tiktok video* Sirius and Remus were TOGETHER together?! Never even crossed my mind!!!

But... I get it.

But like... JKR didn't write it. Fanfic is just amateurs writing, right? I have enough of reading as is, I have to read for my job (I'm a translator).

But... They promised it's a HP experience. And I do have an eReader... It costs nothing to try it.

But... What the hell is ao3? What is smut??? Fluff??? HEA? MCD??? Cannon?? AU? Excuse me, is this English?!

The following then happend over 2 months time:

📖 Reading All the Young Dudes

OK, this is really very much like HP. I am getting hooked. This is ACTUALLY what happend, right? Like this is amazingly written. How is this not a real book? (What IS a real book and how do I not know this being a book translator?!) Are Sirius and Remus getting together in this one?

Oh my!

Actually, I've not been this obsessed with a book in like 10+ years.

Reading all through the night (with three kids, mind you, so a very stupid idea)

🎶Love this music!!! Have always loved rock, Queen, Beatles, Bowie, led Zeppelin… You name it. But this makes it better!!!

Finishing ATYD: OMG! OMG! I AM OBSESSED. They need to be together forever. I need to re-read it.

A SEX SCENE in Harry Potter?! EXCUSE YOU! Like… Didn't know I needed that. Thank you.

Of course they had teenage sex at that school. Yes to a giant snake killing people with its sight and no to some friendly petting? Yeah, sure, JKR! Be for real! Never thought about it like that before. And of course they had parties. And smoked (weed) and did drugs. Like… It's a boarding school for heaven's sake! this is much more realistic. Finally know what smut is and I am here for it.

I want a cigarette SO BAD right now (haven't smoked for YEARS)

googling specifics of gay sex because I never thought about it (and I live in a very conservative country) (and like I had QUESTIONS, excuse you, like can you just do butt stuff without prep?!)

finding 📖 explicit one-shots from ATYD

📖 Reading ATYD sirius's POV:

This is ALSO good. So... fanfics on the internet can just... be amazing, right? How has this existed for years and I did not know about it?? Sirius is obsessed LOL. He fell first and he fell harder, the poor boy.

My husband is SO MUCH like Remus. (personality-wise). Guess I know my type, lol.

These fanfics are written better than majority of books I've read. I'm utterly amazed.

📖 Reading Out of the Blue and Bootleg Tapes:

OK, I needed some healing. Happy for Grant and all. But I need wolfstar more.

📖 We could be heroes (finding out what a "fix-it fic" is)

Yes! Wolfstar endgame! A happy ending! Yes!!

Intrusive thoughts: Is ATYD wolfstar like… toxic?

Are they ever happy?

Don't go there, brain!!

Trying to heal with 📖Manacled, then DMATMOOBIL.

Like Dramione. But wolfstar is far superior.

Also have to note that Draco is amazing in bed.

Not a sentence I've ever thought I utter or think. Ever.

Finding 📖 Cadence Of Part-time Poets

sceptical.

How can muggle AU be good? Don't I like all this because of the magic?

Reading it, re-reading it.

Buying an e-cigarette (cause I have to DEAL ffuck's sake and they smoke in like every second scene and ecigarrete is the least of all evil)

Obsessing.

Cannot get enough.

Best. Thing. Ever. Written.

Somehow more magic than magic U.

DOES REGULUS LIKE JAMES?

Seeing the possibilities of Jegulus (is everyone gay in the end? Excuse me, Am I GAY at this point ?)

THE MUSIC OMG THE MUSIC IS MUSICING!!! I am in love with the music! How are Marauders not a band in cannon?! Like that's obviously what they were always supposed to be! Lottie, Simon, Tonya, Tomny… They ARE cannon for me lol. They were there and you cannot convince me otherwise.

Cannot read more, afraid I will lose this Cadence feeling. Just re-reading the best scenes over and over. Stalking motswolo's tumblr. Consuming all there is about Cadence out there. Trying to talk to people about it but noone reads fanfics here!

Can we like start a gofund me for them to get therapy??? I want to see them diagnosed, aware of their traumas and forever together.

Also, why is Remadora a thing? Thank god it wasn't in Cadence (yet) but sometimes i remember it exists and like… vomit internally. Gosh, I rly hate JKR. She just did it to discourage Wolfstar.

getting to read 📖 Black Mass Over Highway 90:

Very sceptical at first.

It's American… and Marauders are essentially English. Remus somewhere in Texas… of all places? Afraid this won't be my cup of tea... Cowboy Remus?! wtf

OMG.

OMG.

This scene basically porn… right? Why do I LOVE THIS?!

Remus is DADDY! Officer Moons!!! He can get it. Like omg. Cowboy Lupin FTW!!

THIS IS the SMUT, RIGHT?! Like do I even want to watch porn at this point? How am I - a cis female in a hetero relationship of 14 years with 3 kids - finding this SO HOT?!

📖 Reading Blends

Also very sceptical.

But... it's so sweet! Is this fluff? Am I discovering fluffy fics? Now, this is comfort reading! Coffe-shop AU? Like, this is where I want to die, my friends! This is so sweet, so incredibly sweet, and I DO NOT miss Voldy and his stupid war one bit, like to hell with him, he can order an Americano and Remus will decaf him at this point!

I am in LOVE!

📖 Reading Names (Blends sequel) because can you do anything else at this point?

Now this is... a whole other thing. It is fluffy, yes. But it goes deeper. And... wider somehow?

It's the first WIP I give a chance.

Cluster headaches are an AMAZING parallel to lycantrophy.

HOW exactly are people this talented just out there publishing fanfics?!

And this "slice of life" thing IS doing it for me. Like really.

📖 Reading Crimson Rivers

Is there anything else besides angst in this?

Wait, James likes... Regulus?!

discovering Jegulus -

wow. I am utterly amazed... cannot put this down at any point of the day. Reading while breastfeeding, reading all through the night. Reading all through the day. Learning how to read and braid my hair at the same time.

I keep thinking - why DO I love gay man/boys stories? How did it come to this? How is this FREE? How do I GIVE BACK to these AMAZING authors that are just doing incredible things for me? Like this is everything I've ever wanted from a book... and they're not even getting paid for this?!

📖 Reading a bunch of short fics inbetween (honorable mentions: Like Real People Do, That's the Art of Getting by, Led by Light of a Star Sweetly Gleaming, Pages of You - discovering Drarry, thinking Drarry is less angst because there's less homophobia in the 90s,

📖 Reading Only the Brave

OK, it's Jegulus, let's give it a chance...

OMG

OMG

OMG

I feel like ever since getting into this fandom, I'm just falling and falling and falling. Falling... In love.

This is so good, you guys. I love JEGULUS!

But as long as WOLFSTAR are together, I can deal (took them half a fic to get together, so please don't do anything stupid!)

I. CANNOT. STOP. READING. WOLFSTAR.

In every universe.

Wolfstar & fanfic taught me not to have any prejudice. And I also discovered that I was quite prejudiced without being aware of it!

I can read anything with those two... just don't break my heart and just let them be together.

Wolfstar made me read again and actually enjoy it. It's been several thousands of pages in a couple of months and I don't regret the lack of sleep…

They are soulmates. In every universe. I don't know what this fetish is called but I need them to be together, see them together, read them together. Love them both. Just need them to be happy.

I am completely amazed at the sheer power the internet has, that an online community has. This is my new obsession and I am utterly devoted to it. It taught me and gave me SO MUCH. I will forever be learning how to give anything back.

Thank you.