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jungkxook · 4 years

Text

—pour up. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader x taehyung

⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / fuckboy!taehyung + smut

⟶ words: 14,048 (idk how it’s literally just smut)

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: sleeping with both notorious frat boys kim taehyung and jeon jungkook doesn’t sound so bad ━ especially when you’re drunk and faded.

⟶ warnings: mentions of drug/alcohol use, essentially pwp lol, threesome, double penetration, voyeurism, messy rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dry humping, manhandling, doggy style, riding (sort of?), fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), face riding, face fucking, deepthroating, breast play, slight begging (mostly oc making jungkook beg hehe), brief name calling, dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: this is a repost of a fic from my old blog! also shout out to miss jlin @bratkook for being the sweetest and for liking this trashy fic of mine, and a happy early birthday present to @onherwings miss juno, the resident taekook lover!! 💛

also the accompanying song to this fic is pour up by dean!

There were times when you were sober where you were persistent about never being in a five foot radius of a frat boy, much less strip yourself of your dignity long enough to sleep with one.

Your appalling disgust and immense irritation of the male species that were frat boys kept you well in tune to your rule ━ until you’re far past the point of drunk and faded. Only then, when your bloodstream is laced with alcohol and your mind is nothing but a hazy cloud of smoke, you shrink into a shameless hypocrite and favour the appeal of a simple hook up. But you have needs too; it isn’t entirely your fault. Kim Taehyung offers you exactly that, with the promise to then act as if nothing happens the very next day so that the two of you can revert to despising one another out in public.

You act as if no one knows about your flings with ultimate frat boy Taehyung almost every weekend, as if they’re just as oblivious as you, but damn near the whole school knows and most certainly the rest of the boys in Beta Tau Sigma, or as Taehyung puts it, his brothers. It’s a useless cycle of bicker, avoid, drink, sex, and repeat, ever since you joined the school as a freshman and the sophomore boy took an interest in you. He’s charming in all the right ways and good looking but his smooth appeal was almost too good to be true and, past his “kind” smiles, you could make him out to be arrogant, vain, and cocky. Maybe you would have given him an actual chance had it not been for his snarkiness but all your brain could truly handle was his dick for a few hours a week.

Unsurprisingly, you always end up crashing at Beta Tau Sigma after one of their raging parties that results in your hook ups with Taehyung; surprisingly, Taehyung is miraculously into pillow talk post-sex and so he doesn’t entirely mind if you stay the night. But, by morning, when the alcohol has all but turned into a terrible hangover, he can hardly care less if you stay or not.

Usually, you wake up on your own, courtesy of past sober you setting an alarm on your phone to make sure you wake up earlier than all the other walkers of shame and anyone else in Beta Tau Sigma. Ideally, it was to help guarantee that no one would ever see you or judge you for stooping low enough to sleep with a fuckboy but you don’t know how well that’s working out for you anymore, if you’re being honest.

That’s why, early one fateful Sunday morning after a night of fun with Taehyung, you awaken with a start to the shrill Marimba tone that rips through the silence of the room and causes you to literally jump out of bed and crash onto the floor. You groan at the sharp pain that shoots up your spine and accompanies your groggy mind as your eyes flicker open only to be greeted with a blinding light that is the sun as it filters through the shut curtains. Littered on the ground are clothes, your clothes, beer bottles, red solo cups, discarded bed sheets, a singular condom wrapper (you thank your past selves for at least being sober enough to remember to use one), and your cell phone.

“Turn that shit off, for fuck sakes,” he grovels.

His hangover, and the early morning, makes his already deep voice even rougher, huskier, and you blame your disoriented mind for thinking he sounds even remotely sexy. He doesn’t bother to lift his head from his pillow or to find where you are in the room, the messy longer-than-usual curls of his hair flopping into his lashes as he flips onto his back. Other bodily remnants remain from the night before, from the mellowing ache between your legs left in the wake of his dick sufficiently railing you to the bite marks on his neck that you had so graciously bestowed him.

Now, you roll your eyes at him instead but dive for your phone nearby and tap the snooze button before it wakes the entire house and rouses the army of fuckboys from the dead.

“Good morning to you too,” You remark. “Is that better, princess?”

“Much.”

You push yourself to your feet and stretch, the stiff joints in your body popping and cracking, before searching for your clothes. You’re certain Taehyung has fallen back asleep as you dig around through the clutter to find your belongings but what else is new? It’s a routine the two of you have come to know well, and one that neither of you mind. You spot some sort of lacy material hidden underneath a few of Taehyung’s dirty laundry laying on the floor and reach for it thinking it’s yours. You’re only mildly disturbed to find that it isn’t yours at all ━ though you’re more concerned about the hygienic purposes of touching some other girl’s thong than you are about the blatant fact Taehyung sleeps with more girls than just you (a fact you swear you could care less for).

“Jesus Christ, your room is a disaster,” You scoff now.

“You could clean it,” Taehyung suggests sluggishly. Now, he’s awake, pretty and hooded eyes fluttering open to find you nearby. He props his hand behind his head to lift his gaze a little higher.

You snort, tossing the underwear away. “You never cease to━”

“Amaze you?”

“Repel me more than when I see the collection of thongs you have hidden in your room,” You correct. Fortunately, you spot your own underwear nearby and scoop it up, quickly slipping into them.

“Aw, baby, is that a bit of jealousy I hear?” Taehyung asks. He runs a hand through his dishevelled dark locks and shoots you a drowsy smirk. “You know you’re my one and only. I can always count on you when I want good head.”

“Please, flatter me some more, Tae,” You quip dryly.

As you hastily slide into your stiff shirt and jeans next and turn to face him, combing your fingers through your hair, Taehyung seems to take your words to heart and tries again. “You look like shit.”

You feign a voluntarily loud and overly dramatic moan. “Ugh, you really do know how to treat a girl━” Your cut off by a shameless snort from Taehyung before you continue on, “You know, you don’t exactly look the hottest right now either.”

“I beg to differ,” he replies nonchalantly. Technically, he isn’t lying, but you refuse to feed his ego any more.

“As if.”

“Funny,” he hums. “Could’ve sworn last night you were calling me hot when you were begging for my dick.”

You don’t bother to reply. Instead, you shake your head as you rub your tired face, uttering, “I need a coffee.”

“You could stay,” he offers. “I can make you one.”

“You don’t even know how to boil water,” You retort. “But thanks for the gesture. Try not to throw up on yourself today, okay?”

Taehyung mumbles something in response but then he’s already flipping over onto his side to fall back asleep again. You grab your bag from the floor and slip into your shoes before tiptoeing out of the room.

The Beta house is just as much a disaster as Taehyung’s room is and you find yourself stepping over more bottles, cups, empty pizza boxes, and hungover passed out people with phallic images doodled on their faces. The sun filters into the ever grand mansion and only illuminates the chaos the frat boys put it through. Everyone is thankfully still asleep as you head downstairs but, as you sneak past the kitchen, you notice two figures rummaging about, boisterous unabashed laughter filling the house that somehow hasn’t woken the others yet.

Jeon Jungkook stands before you with Park Jimin, both fellow Beta brothers, though Jungkook is in the same year as you. They, like most other Beta boys (and especially Taehyung), are well known on campus but Jungkook is perhaps even worse than Taehyung. Now, he’s adorned in only low hanging gray sweatpants that show off the ripples of his toned chest and the happy trail that threatens for your eyes to follow it. He holds a bowl of cereal close to him with the same arm decorated on every inch with tattoos, a snapback pushing his messy hair up and away from his forehead. The best part (and you mean that not at all) ━ or the worst ━ is the fact that he stands on a hoverboard, as if walking is too much for him to handle at nine in the morning. Jimin isn’t far off wearing the same attire, only his look is paired with the fuckboy-essential-starter-pack of socks and Adidas slides, and he’s at least actually using his legs to walk.

“Morning,” Jungkook smirks. “Time for the walk of shame?”

You have to retain a sigh. “I’m surprised you’re up, Jeon. I was sure you were gone past the point of saving last night.”

“A couple of shots do nothing for me,” Jungkook replies, shovelling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “I was pretty much sober.”

At this, you sit back on your heels and look him once over skeptically. “You kept trying to hook up with me, called your dick Jungcock, threw up in one of the vases, and then passed out in the bathtub. I wouldn’t have exactly called you sober.”

The smirk remains on Jungkook’s face. If anything, he seems more so amused and it pisses you off. Jimin bursts into a fit of laughter and shakes his head.

“Always a pleasure seeing you, Y/N,” he greets. “Hey, are you coming to the party going down at Lambdas house after exams? It’s pretty exclusive but you and your friends are all invited by courtesy of us.”

“Ugh, I can’t even think about going to another party right now. How do you Beta whores do it?” You grovel. “Besides, why would we come if we know you’re going to be there?”

“‘Cause Tae’s going and you’re probably gonna wanna suck his dick,” Jungkook suggests snidely.

“I was gonna say the free booze,” Jimin offers instead. “Man, you know the Lambdas. They’re all rich pretentious sons of country club owners. They hardly throw parties but, when they do, you know it’s going to be wild. I wouldn’t miss it if I were you.”

“Well,” You say, “thanks for the invitation but we’ll see. Maybe if we have a pre-game where I can get drunk enough to handle your faces and the Lambda boys together.”

“I’ve always said you’re more fun when you’re drunk,” Jungkook hums pensively. Your eyes narrow into a glare and you’re fortunate Jimin is there to block your path from tackling Jungkook.

“Okay, whatever,” You grumble. “I’m out of here. I think if I stay here any longer, I’ll lose all my brain cells.”

Jimin chuckles but hardly seems bothered by your comment. He waves you off as he slips out of the kitchen to retreat into another room, leaving you alone with Jungkook.

“Can I get you anything before you go?” he asks. There’s a cheeky tone laced in his words that makes you blatantly aware he’s trying to suggest something more, like his dick.

“Absolutely not,” You wave him off. “See you around, Jungidiot.”

He grins and shoves another spoonful into his mouth. “Hey, maybe next Saturday you can think about blowing me instead of Tae, yeah?”

He’s met with you jamming your middle finger in his face and it only seems to entertain him further. As you march out of their home, slamming the door behind you, you have one discernable thought amongst your hangover and that is that you’ll definitely need to have that pre-game before you have the audacity to even see Jungkook, or any of the Beta boys for that matter, at the Lambdas.

That Saturday, you find yourself at the Lambdas house party.

So maybe you had sort of been lying when you said you weren’t so sure of going to it, but the thought was tempting enough and you aren’t one to pass up on a good party, especially when it’s after weeks of headaches and stressing over studying and exams.

Mid-terms come and go and when you finally finish writing your last paper, all you want to do is let loose and party and get dicked down by Taehyung. The Lambdas, despite their pretentious behaviour, looks to be very promising ━ but only after you down a few shots beforehand and have a beer while you’re getting ready. You’re not exactly as drunk or as tipsy as you would have prefered but it still gives you a nice enough buzz that makes you warm and lets the adrenaline pump in your veins and excites you even more for the party. The house you rent is off campus but it’s close to Beta’s and Taehyung offers to give you guys a lift to the Lambdas who are a fifteen minute walk away (but you know Taehyung will do anything to not walk anywhere his penny board can’t take him ━ and it’s not even Taehyung who is driving but his friend, Jin).

You can hear the party at Lambdas before you’re even there. The thump of bass coming from the house isn’t hard to miss, especially not with the way it seems to rattle the ground the closer you get. The house is crammed full to capacity and people have already begun to spill onto the lawn by the time you have arrived. A potent waft of alcohol and weed fill your senses and it is all you could really make out in the rambunctious party. You can hardly hear yourself think, let alone what others are saying to you. Yet, you still found a way to have fun almost instantly, drifting away from the guys to party with your friends.

Most of the night is a blur and a haze of confusion but you can remember drinking and drinking some more until you’re sufficiently smashed. You can’t quite recall where you had lost your friends, though you suspect it was after the intense game of beer pong you were suckered into in which you were certain there were no winners or losers as it was just an excuse to drink even more. It’s nearing 1 a.m. when you finally bump into a familiar face, pulling you back from the unruly party and the adrenaline rush coursing through your veins.

You’ve just slipped outside for some fresh air, perched on the front porch, when you notice Jimin is passed out on the lawn below. The other stragglers gathered outside barely take note of him but maybe that’s because he had chosen to faceplant in the shadows under the porch, tucked safely away from the rest of the party. Just before you can even think to walk over to him and make sure he’s still alive, the front door of the house swings wide open and a frenzied Taehyung bursts outside, shortly followed by an equally dumbfounded Jungkook.

“Where the fuck is he?” Taehyung hisses.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook sighs, disgruntled, “but leave it to him to run off and disappear.”

“Looking for someone?”

The two boys startle at your voice. They whirl around to find you taking a sip of the drink in your hand, as if only just noticing your presence. You hadn’t seen them since you parted ways a handful of hours ago in the party, though you’re fairly certain they’re just as smashed as you.

“Ah, babe!” Taehyung beams wolfishly. “What a pleasure seeing you out here. Uh, you wouldn’t happen to have seen where Jimin went, would you?”

You nod in the direction of the sleeping boy down below. “He’s there. He’s passed out cold, though. What the hell did you do to him?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook says. He grimaces as he hastily follows Taehyung down onto the lawn to stand near Jimin, and you in tow. “Jimin just likes to get out of hand. What should we do, Tae? We can’t just leave him here and Luna’s going to be pissed if she sees him like this.”

Taehyung stares down at Jimin miserably, thinking momentarily. “Well, Luna’s looking for him so we might as well drop him off at her dorm. He can deal with her when he’s sober.”

There’s a brief moment where you spot Jungkook seriously considering this though, as if leaving Jimin on the lawn of a frat house is a safer option than returning him to his girlfriend. Ultimately, he caves and you watch as Taehyung nudges Jimin awake (and by nudge, you mean he slaps the boy across the face) before pulling a very disoriented Jimin to his feet and slinging one of his arms over Taehyung’s neck.

“Fuck, he’s heavy,” Taehyung huffs. “Give me a hand, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods, stepping forward to take Jimin’s other arm and hook it around his own neck. The two boys seem to be struggling carrying most of Jimin’s body weight, though they’re carrying mostly dead weight as Jimin continues to drift in and out of consciousness.

Before they can leave you offer to help though you don’t know what you can really do so you suspect your inebriated mind just wanted to go with them for the hell of it. Luna’s place isn’t far. It’s a ten minute walk from Lambda’s, but in that ten minutes, none of you talk about anything of real importance except for chuckle and laugh about things that happened at the party.

Eventually you make it to Luna’s, who answers the door angrily after you knock on it as if you’ve disrupted her slumber and frowns when she sees Jimin’s current state. At least she has the decency to thank the three of you. When she shuts the door behind her, the three of you turn to look at one another, almost clueless.

“So, what now?” Taehyung asks. “Head back to the party?”

The thought of making the ten minute walk back to the party in your drunken mind seems like an eternity. That, mixed with the way your feet scream in agony from the heels you’re wearing, you begin to pout and shake your head.

“I can’t walk anymore,” You whine, words drunkenly slurring together. “I’d be fine just sitting here.”

Jungkook’s nose scrunches as he looks at you once over. “How drunk are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, how about we just go back to our place?” Taehyung asks. His arm slides around your waist then, tugging you close to his side. If one thing is for certain, the boy tends to get more handsy the more drunk he is, and you never seem to mind. “I’ve got a fresh bowl we can hit and we can drink there and just chill?”

You and Jungkook consider Taehyung’s offer fleetingly and, to you, it seems much more appealing.

“Sign me up,” You say. “The Lambdas were a bit too over the top for my liking. There’s only so much I can handle.”

Jungkook shrugs and nods in agreement. “Then I guess I’m going with you guys.”

The five minute walk to Beta is short and soon you’re inside the eerily empty house and climbing the steps to Taehyung’s room but not before the three of you raid their cabinets for any type of liquor. Eventually, you’re all lounging in Taehyung’s room, some type of music playing in the background as the three of you pass around a bottle of whisky and the bong Taehyung had promised he had, giggling at each other.

By 2 a.m., you are smashed and faded but blissfully so.

Taehyung and Jungkook are not too far off. It’s Taehyung who comes up with the idea to play strip poker, though with a twist. His version of the game includes: taking a shot anytime one of you loses a round along with either stripping an article of clothing or being allowed to pass it and get dared to do something else, though each person only has three passes.

Jungkook loses the first round, shedding only his jacket. Taehyung and you lose the second round; you decide to strip out of your own cardigan while Taehyung flicks off his hat. Jungkook and Taehyung lose the third round and both kick off their shoes. The game progresses slowly, with the three of you coming up with “clever” loopholes out of the rules, like stripping one sock one round and then another sock the next and all of you are too drunk to really protest. Eventually, the game winds up with Taehyung and Jungkook both in their pants and you still wearing both your shirt and jeans. Both the boys have used one of their passes and are still losing which, you will admit, boosts your confidence ever so slightly especially when you have such a nice view in front of you.

Both boys are toned, with certified gym rat Jungkook’s abs a bit more chiseled, and you know that sober you would cringe at how hard you seem to be drooling over them. Jungkook must notice because he shoots you a wink that has you squirming in your seat.

“Like what you see?” he asks.

“N-No,” You say shortly. “Shut up and go. It’s your turn.”

You end up losing that round, unfortunately, but you have no qualms with stripping out of your jeans and kicking them to the side. The next round, you lose again, except you decide to use one of your passes which has both boys groaning in defeat.

“Remember,” You coo, “play nice boys.”

The two exchange a look and you wait patiently, taking your shot of whisky in the meantime as Taehyung chides you on encouragingly with a cheeky, “Pour up, baby girl.”

You down the shot in one gulp, wincing as it burns down your throat, then chase it quickly with the drink you had stolen from their kitchen. A drowsy smirk tugs at Taehyung’s lips as he takes another rip from the bong, breathing out a cloud of smoke as he hums insouciantly, “I’ve got your dare.”

There’s a split moment where he makes eye contact with you and pushes his hair out of his eyes.

“Come here and kiss me.”

Had you been sober, you might have rolled your eyes at his simple yet assertive dare but, instead, you can’t help but snicker as you lean across to him from your seat on the floor and pull him down for a not so graceful kiss. His whisky coated tongue instantly collides with yours in an open mouthed frenzy that’s full of teeth clashing and wet sounds but it’s hot, too hot, even as Taehyung pulls you closer to him with his hand grasping at your chin. You instinctively react, teeth nipping at his lower lip as you suck hard, momentarily forgetting about Jungkook sitting in the room.

A moan emits from you as your fingers thread through his hair. Jungkook is left to watch but his eyes stay locked on your figure and the way you cave so easily to Taehyung, the way your mouth moves against his. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your position on your hands and knees, or the way you arch your back in an attempt to get closer to Taehyung, and he certainly can’t seem to look away from the tempting curve of your ass jutting in his direction. All Jungkook suddenly wants is for you to be kissing him the same way you’re kissing Taehyung.

You’re only interrupted when he finds the nerve to clear his throat after a few moments. “Nah, it’s alright, I’ll just sit here. Do you guys want me to leave?”

He’s being sarcastic, of course, and when you and Taehyung part to look at the boy, he’s scowling. The two of you chuckle lightly but don’t respond, though you remember the game you’re still playing. Taehyung kisses you one last time before you settle back onto the floor, a sheepish giggle bubbling in your chest. Taehyung loses the next round and he decides to strip down into his underwear though he hasn’t lost yet (the goal is nudity and neither of your drunk selves have enough dignity left to give up before then).

The round after that, you lose again. You decide, once more, to use another one of your passes and the two boys pause, thinking of a dare for you as you take a shot (which, you have realized, only get harder to take as time passes).

“I have one,” Taehyung says at long last.

“Bro,” Jungkook groans, “if you just wanna fuck, let me know. I’ll leave. I don’t think I can sit here and watch you dare her to suck your face again.”

Taehyung laughs and shakes his head. “Easy there. I was just gonna suggest that you━” he points at you before nodding toward Jungkook, “give him a lap dance.”

“A what?” Jungkook’s jaw drops open, his eyes widening. “M-Me?”

You glance up at Taehyung, quirking an eyebrow. “Him?”

Taehyung erupts into another fit of laughter but he’s the only one who finds the situation hilarious because you and Jungkook continue to sit there, dumbfounded. When Taehyung calms himself down, he wipes his eyes and shakes his head.

“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t been noticing?” he asks.

“Noticing what?”

“The way Jungkook keeps eye-fucking you,” Taehyung says simply.

Jungkook gaps. “The fuck? I haven’t.”

“Jungkook, you’re not exactly sly,” Taehyung says. “He’s been doing it the whole night, babe. It’s not the first time he’s done it, too. I just figured we could do him a little favour.”

Your turn to look up at Jungkook and purse your lips. He’s seated in Taehyung’s desk chair and has a frown painted on his face. It’s not like it comes as a surprise to you because he’s constantly trying to flirt with you even when you’re sober but his sudden flustered appearance puzzles you slightly. You’ll admit the idea is ludicrous, but Jungkook is undeniably hot, and grinding on his dick sounds more than wonderful to you in your current state. Either way, you stand to your feet.

“I’ll do it,” You say. “Why not?”

“Wh-What?” Jungkook yelps. “You will?”

“Yeah,” You flash him a pearly smirk. “What? Is confident Jungkookie finally shy?”

At the mention of the taunting nickname, he straightens up in his seat and scowls. “No. I’m just surprised you gave in so easily. You must really like me, huh?”

“Keep dreaming, Jeon,” You retort.

The music is still playing in the background as you slink towards Jungkook’s seated figure. Meanwhile, Taehyung is watching with an amused look on his face and sits back, clearly enjoying the view as he tells you that you have three minutes. As you approach Jungkook, he leans back in his seat and watches you with dark eyes. Jungkook’s eyes sweep over your figure, from the way you muse your hands through your messy hair, your tight tank top with one strap falling down your shoulder, your lacy and scantily clad underwear, and your smooth legs. He gulps at the sight and shifts in his seat.

As soon as you’re standing in front of him, you whirl around so that your back is to him and jutt your butt out just enough to catch his attention as you sway your hips to the music. Your hands ghost up your sides just faintly enough so that chills run down your spine and you lock eyes with Taehyung for a split second to see him grinning. You sit back on Jungkook’s lap and his breath hitches in his throat suddenly. He hates to admit how easily you’re driving him crazy and as soon as you are but he takes the time to enjoy the dance anyway, eyes staying trained on your ass as you grind against him in agonizingly slow circles and right against his dick nestled against his thigh. He can’t help it when a moan emits from him.

“Fucking hell,” he grunts, raking his hands through his hair. You snicker at his reaction, craning your neck to look behind at him.

“Enjoying yourself, Kookie?”

“N-No,” he rasps. This is a lie, of course. “Turn around.”

His command only humours you but you don’t disobey. You get up for a second to spin around and face him before climbing back onto his lap, swinging one leg over his. Before you drop your hips completely on him, you’re rocking them back and forth against the thin air, your hands snaking around his neck. His hands suddenly find purchase on your waist and he yanks you down onto him with a sudden neediness that surprises you, though you don’t complain. You continue to grind against his lap and you can’t help your greedy self when your hands reach out to run up and down his toned chest. He shivers at your slightest touch, his jaw clenched, but he keeps his gaze focused on your eyes, as if challenging you for more. Behind you, Taehyung is taking another hit from the bong and laughs lightly at Jungkook’s reactions.

“Let him touch you,” Taehyung says.

You expect Jungkook to listen to Taehyung and reach out to grab onto you but he hesitates, his hands remaining at your hips. So, instead, you take his hands in yours and begin pulling them up, sliding them along your midriff and up to your chest. You don’t even flinch as you let him cup your boobs over your clothes and you watch him slyly as he gulps.

“Is this the first time you’ve actually touched a girl, Jungkook?” You quip. “You’re gawking at my boobs like it is. Not gonna wet yourself, hm?”

“Fuck off,” he growls, though there’s no malice in his voice.

Instead, he focuses his attention on your breasts and the weight of them in his palm. They’re soft and supple and he squeezes them firmly, jiggles the flesh as he fondles at you blatantly. He hates to admit it but he feels as if he’s going to combust at any second, repressing the sudden urge to tear off your shirt and burrow his head in your chest, your boobs in his mouth. He doesn’t know whether the soft moan that slips from your parted pink lips is intentional to mess with him or because you had been getting carried away yourself. Either way, Jungkook’s certain it’s the hottest thing he’s heard in a while, the hottest thing he’s seen in a while, and he hates how his sudden erection forms, how embarrassing it must be. When you feel his hardened length start to poke at your thigh, you look down at him past your lashes and smirk.

“Are you hard already, Kookie?” You giggle.

Taehyung roars with laughter abruptly and the outburst only makes Jungkook redden.

“I━I━” he stammers helplessly.

You shake your head at him and then purposely press your hips a little more firmly against his, gripping at his shoulders now. You’re challenging him now too, and he doesn’t know what you have in mind but you’re wickedly set on making him cum in his pants before Taehyung stops you.

“Time’s up,” he says.

Jungkook almost groans out loud in frustration when you pull away and step off of his lap. He’s embarrassingly hard now but his drunk self doesn’t try very hard to hide it. Taehyung’s stare is settled on Jungkook as you walk back to your seat but, before you can even sit down, Taehyung is beckoning you over.

“Come here, babe,” he hums. You look at him curiously but move in his direction. “What do you say we help Jungkook with his problem, huh?”

“Help? How?” You question.

“Come sit,” Taehyung gestures to his thigh.

Jungkook watches with silent seething jealousy as you take a seat on Taehyung’s thigh and then he’s kissing you, pressing his lips against your neck. You react almost instantly, your head craning to allow him more access and your eyes clamp shut, your mouth hanging open in delight.

“Tae━” You mewl, tugging at his hair, as if to prompt him wordlessly about Jungkook’s presence. But when does it become too much? Every action seems to keep building and building, that you know where the night surely must be heading; that you crave it.

Taehyung’s tongue swirls at your neck, his lips sucking on the sensitive skin, before he peeks one eye open to look at Jungkook.

“Look at him,” Taehyung hums against you. “Look at how jealous he is right now. Look at how bad he wants to be me right now.”

You take a moment to register his words, your head spinning. You struggle to find Jungkook as Taehyung continues to ravish your neck. Jungkook’s stare is hard, his jaw clenched; his hands are balled into tight fists that let you see the bulging veins in his arms. Is he jealous? Angry?

Taehyung suddenly bites down onto your neck and you gasp in surprise, leaning against his chest. His nimble fingers find the hem of your shirt which he lifts and discards on the floor with ease. Next to come off is your bra. You don’t realize your torso is bare until a slight breeze hits your breasts and perks your nipples and Taehyung reaches up to cup the soft tissue in his large hands and Jungkook can’t look away because, fuck, touching you is all he really wants to do.

“Do you see him staring now?” Taehyung asks. “Do you see how desperate he is for you? Look at how bad he wants to touch you right now, baby girl. Will you let him?”

You’re still staring at Jungkook as Taehyung speaks and note how fast Jungkook’s demeanour has changed. He looks helpless, his erection more prominent in his straining jeans which he shamelessly palms at to feel some sort of relief.

“Better yet,” Taehyung hums, averting your attention back to him. He’s sliding one of his hands down your front and in between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. His digits come in contact with your clothed pussy and the sudden touch, light and feathery, makes you jump and gasp. You hadn’t been aware of how wet you had been until he touched you just then and the coil in your stomach only tightens with each passing second. “Will you let him play with you?”

It takes you a second to respond, though that isn’t because you’re struggling to decide. The thought entices you far more than you ever believed it could. Taehyung is suddenly rubbing his fingers against your clothed clit in so very slow circles that it suddenly has you tripping over your own thoughts. You’re biting hard onto your lower lip as you force yourself to nod hastily.

“Do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.

“Fuck, yes,” You whine. “Mmm, Tae━”

Taehyung shifts you in his lap so that your back is pressed against his chest, leaning all your weight against him. It’s hard to focus as one of his hands fondles one of your breasts while his other presses figure eights onto your clit. You’re on full display for Jungkook now, though his eyes fall to the wet spot that forms on your pretty little underwear as your arousal leaks from you.

“How badly do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.

“So badly,” You whimper.

This catches Jungkook’s attention and he leans forward in his seat. Taehyung smirks against you and then he’s moving, withdrawing his hand from between your thighs to hook around the waistband of your underwear. He gives it a quick tug and you fumble to lift your hips so he can pull the useless fabric down your legs. Once it pools at your feet, you kick it off to the side and then Taehyung’s hand returns between your thighs.

“Spread your legs,” he says.

You do as you’re told, pushing your thighs apart but then instinctively squeezing them shut when Taehyung continues to press his fingers against your clit. The sudden stimulation is too much for you and your face begins to heat up so Taehyung uses the chance to push your legs apart for you. He hitches one of your thighs over his own as if to anchor you in place and it works.

“Can you stay like that for me, baby?” Taehyung drawls. “Look at Jungkook for me.”

You nod, your throat dry as you lift your gaze to lock eyes once more with Jungkook. You find the boy gawking at your sex and you moan suddenly. His head snaps up to stare at you with a sudden blazing determination and lust in his eyes before they fall once more to your pussy, admiring the way it pulsates each time Taehyung swipes at your clit or tweaks at your nipples. But the best part? The best part is just how wet you are, your clear juices coating Taehyung’s fingers, spilling onto yours and Taehyung’s thighs with the passing seconds, and suddenly Jungkook is hungry for you. But what he doesn’t know is how you suddenly imagine Jungkook in Taehyung’s place, sat beneath you poised daintily on his lap, his fingers pressing against you.

You twist on top of Taehyung, your own hand reaching up to grasp at your other breast, pinching at the nipple tightly. A delighted moan fumbles from your lips. “Jungkook━ Fuck━”

“It’s nice, yeah?” Taehyung asks aloud to the other boy. “She’s pretty, hm?”

Jungkook nods eagerly and then groans. “She’s dripping. Fuck, it’s so hot.”

Your face burns at his words but you don’t have enough wits to think of a snarky retort like usual.

Taehyung chuckles. “Why don’t you come here then and touch her? Taste her? Is that okay, baby?”

When you realize Taehyung is asking you, you nod eagerly. “Shit, please━ Jungkook, wanna feel you━”

At your request, Jungkook practically tumbles out of his seat. As soon as he’s standing on his feet, the realization seems to hit him and he takes his time, walking to you slowly. His gaze sweeps over your exposed body and he licks his lips, his eyes suddenly darkening. Taehyung doesn’t stop touching you or marking your neck his even as Jungkook walks closer and it hits you in that moment what exactly you’re doing and who you’re with ━ and you fucking love it. Jungkook kneels down in front of you and Taehyung nods in encouragement.

“She’s impatient and feisty,” Taehyung informs. “But that makes her fun to tease.”

“I know how to pleasure a girl,” Jungkook quips.

“But you don’t know how to pleasure Y/N,” Taehyung replies. “You’re too cocky, Jungkookie, and she doesn’t like that. You need to take your time with her and you don’t do that often with girls, do you?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond but, judging by his face, you assume Taehyung is right.

“What do you want me to do?” Jungkook asks. He’s staring at your face now and only your face. His intense stare makes you squirm on Taehyung’s lap, and makes you suck your lower lip between your teeth.

“Touch me,” You rasp. “Touch me, please, Jungkook.”

God, how he loves hearing you moan his name. But the anticipation is killing you. You’ve felt Taehyung’s fingers plenty of time; you’ve never felt Jungkook’s, and the abrupt need seems to grow more intense with each passing second.

“You heard her, Jungkookie,” Taehyung says. He draws his hand away from your heat and kisses your neck softly. “Go on. Touch her. Be gentle, go slow.”

Jungkook is shaking with excitement ━ or maybe it’s just the weed and alcohol in his bloodstream ━ but he eyes you carefully, gnawing down on his lower lip. He reaches out at a tedious pace and hesitates, his fingers hovering over your core. Taehyung is watching with eager eyes whilst planting open mouthed kisses along your shoulders, neck, and jawline. Jungkook finally presses his fingers against your pussy and your reaction is immediate. You toss your head back against Taehyung’s shoulder and jutt your hips forward.

“Nnngh, fuck, Kook━” You whimper. “M-More━ Wanna feel more━”

Jungkook takes that as a good sign and follows after Taehyung, rubbing circles into your clit slowly. He feels just how wet you are, his fingers coating with your cum as they move with ease past your folds, and it’s enough to let the wave of glee wash over him again.

“See? Look how much she loves it already,” Taehyung says. “Keep going.”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. As he rubs his fingers over your clit, his other hand comes up in a greedy fashion. He can’t stop himself from slipping a finger past your folds and it takes all you can not to moan out loud but you give up on the prospect of remaining quiet when it feels so good to have both boys on you.

“Let him know how you feel, baby,” Taehyung purs. “How he’s making you feel.”

You struggle to find your voice momentarily, too caught up with the lust and desire but then a cry of delight falls from your lips. “Fuck, ah, Jungkook! That feels s-so good━”

Jungkook’s head snaps up to look at you in pure disbelief.

“Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot,” he huffs. “I never thought you’d moan my name and now you’re so wet and tight and for me━”

“And me,” Taehyung admonishes offhandedly.

Jungkook doesn’t reply but that’s mostly because he’s suddenly fixated on curling his finger inside of you and watching your every reaction. Your hips jut forward and you cry out, panting at the blissful feeling but it isn’t enough. You need more, and you need more now. As if Taehyung can read your mind, he chimes in again, disrupting yours and Jungkook’s reverie.

“Why don’t you have a taste of her?” he asks. “You won’t regret it.”

Jungkook’s eyes light up and he watches as you nod eagerly, desperate pleas coming from your mouth. Jungkook lowers himself down between your thighs and you wait with bated breath before he’s licking a clean stripe against your folds with his flattened tongue. The sudden slippery warmth has your body writhing in pleasure.

“Jungkook━” You cry out. “Oh my god━”

Jungkook grins. Then he’s licking at you again, tasting your sweet succulence, and groans into your hot core.

“Shit,” Jungkook huffs. “You taste amazing.”

He nibbles down slightly on your clit without warning and tugs. You instantly jerk into his mouth, a strangled moan ripping from your throat that sounds something like a scold of his name and a desperate plea for more. “Jungkook!”

Taehyung snickers against your neck and you can feel Jungkook’s lips curl into a taunting smirk between your thighs. Jungkook’s finger still curls deep within you as his tongue returns to lapping at your clit and you can feel his nose brushing against you the deeper he burrows into you. Meanwhile, Taehyung is continuing to ravish your neck, his hands tweaking at your nipples. The onslaught of senses is so much for you that you nearly scream when Jungkook’s tongue dips into your heat so suddenly to accompany his finger. He laps at you hungrily and you gasp, your breath stuttering as your hands come down to tug hard in his raven locks, your hips bucking forward and into his mouth. It feels fantastic, too incredible for you to put into words, as you feel the wetness of his tongue lap at your walls and suddenly you’re aware of just how susceptible you are to both of the boys near you.

“Fuck, don’t stop, Jungkook,” You moan.

“Now who’s the needy one?” Jungkook coos against your cunt. “Gonna cum on my tongue?”

“P-Please━ Want it so badly, Kook━”

He smacks his lips against you, taking as much as he can of you into his mouth and sucking hard until all you hear are the lewd wet sounds of his tongue and finger working miracles against you. You’re clutching his hair so tight, pushing him closer into your heat but he doesn’t relent. One of his hands comes up to hold onto your waist, to push you firmly back onto Taehyung’s lap and closer into Jungkook’s mouth. You can feel Taehyung’s budding erection poking against your thigh and it’s enough to make you flustered once more.

In an attempt to help Taehyung, you find yourself grinding not only into Jungkook’s mouth but onto Taehyung’s lap, earning a growl into your neck. Taehyung’s free hand comes up to your chin which he grabs roughly. He forces you to look at him and then he’s smashing his lips onto yours in a heated fashion for an entirely ungraceful kiss. It’s needy and hot, completely open mouthed as your tongues mingle in the air and as Taehyung sucks on your lower lip. Yet you tear your gaze from Taehyung to look down at Jungkook as he buries himself further into your pussy, his nose nuzzling against your clit. You’re dripping by now and you can see your own juices smear onto his lips, dribble down to his chin, and it’s the hottest thing you could ever imagine seeing. He doesn’t seem to care as it spills down his neck and suddenly the mere sight has you squirming again. You part from Taehyung’s mouth with a wet pop that rings in your ears and moan.

“Fuck━ nghn, I━I━ think I’m close,” You whimper.

“Fuuck, yes,” Jungkook growls against you.

“Let it go, baby,” Taehyung hums, nibbling at your ear. “Cum for him, for us.”

Jungkook’s pace quickens, pumping his finger faster in you and sucking at your clit until you have no more strength to hold off. Your hands fumble in his hair, trying desperately to pull him closer, and you hate how badly you want your sweet release already. It doesn’t help when Taehyung twists your body ever so slightly so that he can lean down to your breasts and catch one of your nipples between his teeth. His tongue swishes back and forth against the perked bud and you whimper again, the coil in your stomach tightening and loosening.

You’re so close now and Jungkook can hear it, can feel it, can taste it. You don’t have much longer after that before your orgasm is hitting you hard.

“I’m gonna━” You reach out to grasp at Jungkook’s hair, tugging at the roots. “Fuck, Jungkook━”

You cry out suddenly, the coil in your stomach springing apart. Jungkook moans into your pussy as you cum, pulsating around his tongue and finger and dripping into his mouth. You’re reduced to nothing but a whimpering, writhing mess against Taehyung as you buck back and forth into Jungkook’s mouth to ride out your high. Taehyung pulls apart from you to rub circles into your hips and the seemingly gentle move somehow soothes the intense wave of pleasure into something much sweeter. Fire burns at your core and flicks outward until your whole body is warm and numb and then you collapse against Taehyung’s chest, panting hard. Jungkook drinks up every last bit of you and you begin to cringe at the oversensitivity before you gain some of your wits again. You push his head away hastily and this time he relents.

“Did all your little happy wet dreams finally come true, Jeon?” You snicker languidly.

The boy sits back on his knees and looks up at you, locking gazes with yours. You can finally see his face, his tousled black hair, his swollen red lips, and chin, all of which are covered in your perfect sheen. He licks at his lips and wipes at his chin and neck where his tongue can’t reach and he does all of this without breaking eye contact with you. A small smirk forms on his face and suddenly you’re filled with an intense need for payback.

“Yeah, you act confident now but you seemed to enjoy it when you were riding my face,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, about to reply before he adds, “So, you’re welcome.”

“You’re impossible,” You huff, pushing yourself off of Taehyung’s lap.

“Where do you think you’re going, baby?” Taehyung mewls behind you. “We still need you.”

“Oh, I know,” You quip. You reach down to grab onto Jungkook’s chin, forcing him to look up at you. “But it’s my turn, don’t you think, Tae?”

Taehyung chuckles and nods in agreement. Jungkook, however, hardly looks bothered, though he seems a little taken aback by your sudden assertiveness when you begin pulling him up to his feet before pushing him back onto the bed. Taehyung scoots over so that the three of you can fit comfortably on his bed and then you’re moving, crawling over to Jungkook on your hands and knees.

“Are you trying to intimidate me?” Jungkook asks. “Because this is sexier than it is scary.”

You’re hovering over his crotch when he speaks, your greedy hands reaching forward to brush against his hard dick straining in his jeans. He nearly jolts in his seat at the sudden touch and you and Taehyung giggle again.

“Mmm, baby, teach him a lesson,” Taehyung hums. “Suck him off nice and slow but don’t let him cum.”

“Not unless he begs for it,” You say wickedly.

Taehyung stifles a chuckle. “I told you she’s feisty, Jungkookie.”

The younger boy is eyeing you carefully as you busy yourself by undoing the belt buckle on his jeans. He acts unimpressed, unfazed, as you unbutton his jeans and began sliding them off his legs, but you can see the needy and impatient glint in his eyes. Your eyes fall immediately to the ever present straining bulge in his boxers and you gulp in response, licking your lips. You can’t help yourself when you reach out to brush your fingers faintly along his length. He jolts in his seat and grits his teeth, shooting you a hard glare.

“Are you seriously going to tease me?” Jungkook grumbles. “We can skip all of that, y’know━”

“It’s payback, Jeon,” You hum, running your fingers down his dick and then back up again. “Where’s the fun in it if I skip all of the teasing?”

“You know,” Taehyung murmurs from beside you. He’s reclining back, watching you with intense eyes and is completely shameless about his prominent erection contained by his boxers. “I’m surprised the idiot hasn’t referred to his dick yet as Jungcock.”

You giggle, an all too innocent and sweet sound for the way you’re palming at Jungkook’s dick. Jungkook, who is apparently having a rather difficult time keeping up with his surroundings while your fingers continue to work against him, scoffs. His eyebrows knit together as he throws a beady glare at the older boy.

“You’re ruining the mood,” he grunts.

Taehyung clicks his tongue against his teeth, a smirk tugging at his luscious lips. “Of course. I digress.”

You turn your attention back to Jungkook who’s staring down at your hand with parted lips and a crease in his brows. Without warning, you grasp him through his boxers and he groans suddenly, bucking forward. The desperation of his situation only seems to increase in severity when you peel back the elastic band of his boxers and slide them off his legs, finally freeing his dick which springs out from it’s confines. He’s much bigger than you expected, his tip angry and red, leaking with pearly beads that dribble down his length and the bulging veins that line it.

“You’re staring again,” Jungkook hums when he notices you pause, your eyes wide. “Sure you don’t like what you see?”

You shake yourself from your daze and frown. “Shut up.”

The boy starts to chuckle at your flustered expression but yelps when you clasp your fingers around the base of his cock. A beautiful moan falls from his lips and excites you even more. You start pumping him slowly, guiding your hands up and down his length in careful and measured motions, wiping your thumb across his tip each time you reach it. Jungkook shudders in your touch, his teeth coming down to gnaw hard on his lower lip. His eyes are glued to your hands working against him, his face scrunching up in pure euphoria.

“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts, his head lolling back. “Stop teasing me and go faster.”

You don’t listen. If anything, you slow your pace and it has him so frustrated that he lets an involuntary whimper escape him. He bucks into your clenched hand, practically begging for more but remains quiet, safe for his heavy panting.

“You heard her, Kook,” Taehyung says. “Beg for her.”

“There’s no way I’m begging,” Jungkook hisses through gritted teeth. “Never. I never have and never will.”

“Bullshit,” You scoff. You fondle at his balls with your other hand and he moans again. Your hand comes to a complete halt all of a sudden, interrupting Jungkook as he is about to speak. Before he can protest, you lean down and lick at his tip, swirling your tongue around him once to taste his saltiness. His hips rut forward into you but you pull back almost immediately and find Jungkook gaping. You meet his desperate eyes for a steady gaze. “Beg. Just once, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook’s stare wavers as you run your fingers along his tip, squeezing slightly. He tries to compose himself, to remain calm, but when you are relentless, he caves very easily. He only gives in when you kiss the base of his cock. And those eyes ━ fuck, the way your eyes turn so wide and already look so fucked out. How could he resist you?

“Fuck, fuck, okay,” he gasps. “I need more, baby, please. Ah, please━ You feel so fucking good.”

His needy pleas satisfy you and your lips curl into a devious grin. You lower yourself on him suddenly, licking a clean stripe up his length and he moans loudly. You enclose your mouth around his tip and suck, earning a small growl from him as he pushes his hips forward for more. In the next second, you sink your mouth down his length, taking as much of him as you can.

“Fuck!” he moans abruptly. “Ahh, shit, that feels amazing, baby.”

You hollow out your cheeks as you pull your head up and then back down, starting at an even pace that has him moaning and writhing beneath you. He feels much bigger in your mouth but you don’t mind even when he bucks himself into you unexpectedly and hits the back of your throat. The action makes you gag around him and, in return, he curses at the way it feels.

“K-Keep doing that,” he mumbles. “Please, fuck, just like that.”

His fingers thread in your hair and he pulls you down greedily on him but you don’t refuse.

“Can you do it, baby girl?” Taehyung questions. His hand finds his way on your back where he rubs gentle circles into your skin. “Can you take all of him in your mouth?”

You nod carefully around Jungkook’s hardened length.

“Good girl,” Taehyung smirks. “Go slow.”

You follow his orders, sinking gradually onto Jungkook until you feel the tip of him hitting the back of your throat. You gag once more but, instead of pulling back, you shut your eyes and take a few deep breaths in through your nose. In, out, in, out, and then you swallow. Jungkook’s reaction is sudden and intense. He bucks into your mouth unwillingly and moans even louder, his fingers clutching at your roots.

“That’s it, baby,” Taehyung hums and his sudden presence is comforting.

“A-Again,” Jungkook stammers. “Again, please━ holy shit, you feel amazing.”

You swallow again and then a third and each time you can feel yourself sinking lower onto him. Tears prickle at your eyes as your nose is suddenly pressed against his lower abdomen but his reactions are well worth it and so you continue.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung says, planting a chaste kiss against your shoulder. “You deserve some more attention, hm?”

His fingers slowly rub circles down your back, his lips following your arch and has you shivering beneath him, before stopping at the dip just above your ass. He’s kneeling behind you now, his fingers massaging into your thighs. You sigh against Jungkook when you feel Taehyung’s fingers continue their trek to your ass, rubbing you carefully. You, in response, push your hips back, waiting for more.

“You’re still so wet, baby,” Taehyung says. “I bet you’d come with one touch of my finger.”

With Jungkook buried hilt deep inside your mouth, you’re hardly prepared for when Taehyung slips his fingers underneath to your folds. It’s embarrassing to admit how right he is. You react instantly, moaning around Jungkook and jutting your hips back for more. The simple vibration has Jungkook groaning, his hips bucking forward. You hadn’t even been aware of just how wet you are before Taehyung pointed it out but then you can feel it, pulsing out of you and dripping down the top of your inner thighs.

“But you need more, don’t you?” Taehyung asks. “How about my cock? Will you let me fuck you, baby girl?”

You nod eagerly, the simple question exciting you even more. Taehyung chuckles and leans down to press a kiss to the arch of your back.

“But you’ll have to be good and keep pleasuring Jungkook too, okay?” Taehyung says.

You hum in response and swallow around Jungkook as if to tell both boys that you have no plans on stopping. Jungkook twitches inside you and scrunches his eyes shut.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” he grumbles. “Hurry up. Any time you touch her, she swallows. It feels so good.”

Taehyung snickers but he takes his time. He runs his fingers up and down your folds until you’re moaning needily against Jungkook. You look over your shoulder to see Taehyung’s fingers wrapped around his own hardened and pulsating erection, pumping himself a few times as he stares at you carefully. He positions himself behind you and takes the chance to run his tip and length along your folds. You whimper suddenly, hoping your desperate noises will spur him on.

“You want more, baby?” Taehyung asks.

You hum again, your voice muffled and hoarse.

“Okay,” he sighs. “Only because you’ve been so good.”

You have no time to brace yourself from the sudden impact of feelings. He doesn’t do much except for push himself into you, past your folds. It’s only just the tip and yet your heart jolts in your chest, the coil in your stomach tightens. It feels so good to finally have something of larger girth in you that you gap, simultaneously sinking down further onto Jungkook. The two boys grunt above you, both of them panting hard.

“You feel so good, baby,” Taehyung mumbles. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

He leans down to press a kiss against your shoulder, his other hand coming up to rest on the dip of your lower back to guide you. He slowly, so very slowly, pushes himself into you, inch by inch, so you can feel the way he stretches you open, feel the way he buries into you. Your leaking arousal only proves to be of an advantage, letting him easily push into you without any trouble. Your fingers grip the bed sheets beneath you in an ironclad grip and you squeak when he’s finally buried hilt deep within you. You nearly gag around Jungkook again, who’s still panting and writhing above you, but the way Taehyung’s tongue marks patterns into your shoulder comforts you. You whine against Jungkook, pushing your hips back for more and the simplicity of your action has Taehyung’s breath hitching in his throat.

“So warm,” he grunts and then sighs against your back. “You always feel so amazing.”

He still hasn’t moved and you’re beginning to grow impatient, distraught over the feeling of him rock hard inside you but unmoving. You debate pulling apart from Jungkook to yell at Taehyung but you assume he can understand your haste judging by the way your body writhes beneath him, your fingers clench into fists. He pulls out in one languid movement, his breath stuttering, until only his tip is left before he pushes himself back in, equally as slow. He sets at a steady, easy pace that, at the very least, lets you grasp onto some sensible thoughts and pushes you to keep pleasing Jungkook. Jungkook can’t take it anymore; he starts rutting his hips up into your mouth with gritted teeth. It’s a hot, erotic mess of mingled moans and groans but you never want it to stop ━ in fact, you want more.

“You like that, baby?” Taehyung grunts.

You nod hurriedly, humming in response.

“Ah, fuck━” Taehyung groans. “Want it harder?”

You nod once more, this time eagerly. When Taehyung pulls back one more time, he slams himself back into you without any warning and you jerk forward, sinking down onto Jungkook. The younger boy moans, his head lolling back as his fingers twisting in your hair. You don’t expect Taehyung to do the same thing again, pull out slowly and then push himself back in with more force, but he does, and he repeats the action again and again until he abandons it for a whole new pace. Soon, he’s thrusting into you hard and fast but always making sure his hips reconnect with yours before pulling out so you can feel him practically in your throat.

“Like being fucked like this?” Taehyung asks. “You like being used like a little slut?”

His thrusts are relentless suddenly, jerking your body and back and forth until he’s fucking you in a way that has you sucking off Jungkook just right so that you hardly have to put in any effort. Although his hard thrusts feel amazing, each time you’re pushed forward, you sink further down onto Jungkook unwillingly and that, paired with the way Jungkook frantically fucks himself into your mouth, you nearly gag each time as he hits the back of your throat, drool pooling at your lips and dribbling down your chin. Tears prick at your eyes from the feeling and it’s too pleasing to quit, to pull away from Jungkook just yet. Jungkook’s staring down at you when he notices your scrunched up face. You’re surprised when his hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing reassuringly into your cheekbone.

“You’re doing so━ ah, fuck━ so well, baby,” he rasps.

You can taste the saltiness of precum on the tip of your tongue and you wonder how close he is. You have no qualms in finishing him off then and there but soon the pleasure you’re receiving from Taehyung becomes too much. Soon, he’s hitting you at an angle that shakes something in you. You pull apart from Jungkook with a loud pop, saliva and cum coating his length and your lips, and a gasp wretches from your throat.

“Fuck!” You cry hoarsely. “Ah, T-Taehyung!”

You’re too weak to push yourself up and end up burying your head in Jungkook’s lower abdomen, feeling the heat consume you. You’re near numb, senseless, as you let Taehyung ravish your body, fuck you hard into the mattress and Jungkook. It’s a frantic build up, an intense wave of emotions that you seem to pass through, and you can hardly bring yourself to react. All you can hear is the sound of moaning and skin against skin and the heat seems to make its way up to your head, making you warm and fuzzy. Jungkook gently pulls at your face, lifting you up and bringing you to him so that he can smash his lips onto yours and all you can taste is bitter liquor, you, and him, but that doesn’t stop him from sucking on your lower lip even when you pull apart to moan and gasp.

“T-Tae,” You sob. “Fuck, Tae, I━I’m c━close━”

“Cum for me, baby girl,” he murmurs. “Let me hear you.”

You shake your head frantically at the sensitive sting between your legs still raw from your orgasm from Jungkook, shutting your eyes. Taehyung’s hands find their way onto your hips and he pulls you down his length until you’re balls deep and pauses. He lifts your hips and you can feel him twitch inside you that it even makes your own thighs tremble and shake. You’re sure you’ll collapse on him if he doesn’t hold onto you and he must realize this too because he grips your hips tight to continue thrusting into you. Soon you’re tumbling towards your high. Taehyung’s pumps are frantic, growing sloppy with each passing second, as he pushes you to yours and his high. The coil snaps in your stomach again and you’re in a moment of freefall where you’re stunned by the wave of pleasure. Then, Taehyung is bringing you back down to reality with his hard thrusts, the way he moans, and the lewd wet sounds of him pumping himself into you.

“Ah, T-Tae━” You whimper. “So good, fuck━”

His name falls from your lips in a repeated mantra. You crumble beneath him, collapsing entirely against Jungkook, who’s brushing your hair away from your face. You’re shaking with each touch, your walls pulsing around Taehyung and clenching hard. He moans and curses behind you and you know he must be close to his high because he, too, is fumbling for it. His thrusts are even more hasty and soon he’s reaching his climax. His moans increase in volume and his thrusts become sloppier until he finally pulls his cock from your walls and nearly collapses against your back.

With his hand clenched tightly around his shaft, he jerks himself off until he’s releasing onto your back in white hot spurts. He’s panting hard, sweat coating his forehead, but he takes the time to press chaste kisses along your back and shoulders as the two of you attempt to calm your shrill hearts. It’s silent in the room for a moment despite your panting breaths. Taehyung takes a moment to grab his discarded shirt and wipe at the mess he’s made before he collapses next to you at long last with a huff of air. You moan wearily, rolling off of Jungkook to lay on your back between the two.

“God, you’re amazing,” Taehyung sighs.

You giggle up at the boy and lean towards him to kiss. His fingers rake in your hair and a few silent seconds pass before you’re nearly back to an even breathing pace. That’s when you notice Jungkook, his hand gripped tightly around his still painfully hard dick.

“Jungkook,” You pur his name, catching his attention. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” he quips.

“It’s your turn,” Taehyung points out. Jungkook glances at Taehyung and then down at you, quirking an eyebrow.

“W-Well, I just thought━” Jungkook stammers. “I just thought you’ve had enough. It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“I call bullshit again,” You scoff.

“Baby girl,” Taehyung hums, “do you want Jungkookie to fuck you?”

You nod eagerly but Jungkook doesn’t seem too convinced, or maybe he’s hesitant. Taehyung’s eyeing him closely, curiously, before he gaps. He bursts out into a fit of chuckles, earning both yours and Jungkook’s attention.

“Shit, of course,” Taehyung grins. “He’s probably gonna let go the minute he’s in you. You’re close, hm?”

“Only because she’s already been down on me,” Jungkook grumbles.

“You know that’s not it,” Taehyung replies. “You’ve been wanting this forever.”

Jungkook’s eyes suddenly darken as he glares at the older boy. “Taehyung.”

“Wait, what?” You ask, turning to gawk at both.

“Jungkook has a little crush on you,” Taehyung smirks. “This is all he’s ever wanted. I bet he’ll bust a nut the second he fucks you and he’s embarrassed.”

You gasp as you turn to face Jungkook who looks entirely disgruntled but you’re more shocked about the fact that Jungkook likes you than anything else. Jungkook, notoriously arrogant fuckboy, who’s seemingly made it his mission to give you a headache every waking moment by trying to flirt with you. And maybe you’ve always sort of known it; maybe you’ve always sort of felt the same.

“That’s not true!” Jungkook protests. “I━I━ Well, Tae hardly finishes when he’s with another girl. He’s jacked off to the thought of you before, too━”

Taehyung starts. “Fuck off━”

You’re stuck between the bickering boys, staring up at both of them with a dumbfounded expression. Before either boy can strangle the other, you’re speaking up and interrupting them.

“I don’t mind,” You say. “I’m just… surprised.”

Both boys are silent now, aggravated probably, and you giggle. You reach up to rake your fingers in Taehyung’s hair and then look up at Jungkook, using your other hand to grab onto his chin once more and force him to face you.

“Come here, you idiot,” You drawl. “I want you to fuck me. Wanna feel your dick.”

Jungkook seems taken aback but then his eyes are sweeping down your body and he writhes in his seat. Before he can protest, you’re pulling him down onto you to kiss. It’s passionate and rough but hot altogether as your lips smack against one anothers. Jungkook’s desperate situation seems to hit him again, especially when you snake one of your hands down to his length and wrap your fingers around him to jerk him off. He pulls apart from you, gulping.

“Fuck, okay, okay,” he gasps. “I need to be in you right now, please.”

You and Taehyung smirk as Jungkook shifts around on the bed to kneel between your legs. He pauses, glancing up at you once more and noting the way you bite your lower lip seductively, before finally pushing himself in. He goes slow, but not as gradual as Taehyung. You can still feel him stretching you open and he groans. He seems to slide the rest of the way in with a lewd squelch sound because of just how wet you are and then he’s buried balls deep, fitting so snug within you.

“Holy shit,” he whines. “You weren’t kidding, Tae. She feels amazing.”

Taehyung hums in agreement. “What does she feel like? Let her know, Kookie.”

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut momentarily to focus. “Wet,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Warm, tight ━ fuck, so tight.”

He marvels at the feeling, wonders how you can still clench so tightly around him despite being stretched wide by Taehyung. He bows his head to rest in the crook of your neck and moans. His words are enough to spur on your own reaction and you whimper against him.

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook━”

The sensitivity you feel in your core met with his hard cock makes you cringe but simultaneously pleases you and you’re bucking your hips for more. He groans at the feeling, his hands flying down to grip your hips. He’s big, stretching you wide, but you feel anything but pain except for the sharp burning sensation as the intensity of your past orgasms start to hit you. He rolls his hips back and then thrusts into you so hard that you yelp and jerk back on the bed.

“Go easy on her, Jungkook,” Taehyung admonishes. “She’s not a doll.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook sighs, nipping at your throat. “You just feel so good, Y/N.”

“I’m okay,” You reassure. You feel his length twitch within you and your head lolls back. “Fuck, I feel more than okay.”

“Can we try something?” Taehyung asks.

He receives two weak nods in response. Jungkook pauses, shifts the two of you until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips, his dick never once slipping from your core. The older boy grabs onto you and yanks you onto his hips.

“What do you say we give Y/N the pleasure she deserves?” he asks. He pushes his length past your folds and is rewarded by the sound of your moans as your jaw unhinges. “Think you can handle both of us, baby?”

“Fuck, yes,” You gasp.

Jungkook seems just as enticed by this. He’s careful as he pushes his cock into you and your reaction is explosive. With Taehyung already stretching you wide, you wonder how Jungkook will fit but it’s snug and perfect. You can feel him stretching you further, inch by glorious inch, and he hasn’t even begun moving when your walls clench around the two of them. Taehyung hisses in your ear and Jungkook pauses at once, sputtering for air, giving you time to adjust. When Jungkook pushes himself further into your cunt, rubbing against Taehyung’s cock and your own walls, you can’t help the delicious moan that falls from your lips.

“Oh my god,” You whimper. “Fuck, fuck, that feels so fucking good━”

It’s such a sticky, hot mess, and all you can hear is the sound of guttural moans and grunts. You jut your hips forward, a silent plea for something more. Jungkook’s hand grasps at your ass and then he’s pulling out. He growls suddenly, thrusting his hips forward and the sensation suddenly overwhelms you. As he picks up a pace that leaves you breathless, Taehyung slowly thrusts into you and the pleasure becomes too much. Your hands reach out to grab at anything, fingers digging eagerly into Jungkook’s chest, Taehyung’s sides.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook grunts. His face is scrunched in pleasure and concentration, his mouth hanging open.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung growls. “You like being stretched wide like this, huh? Such a good girl too. Fuck━”

He’s sweating, but so are you, and all you can hear is the sound of yours and the boys’ moans, the vulgar wet slap with each thrust Jungkook makes. It’s only amplified with each small leisurely thrust Taehyung makes into your throbbing pussy, his dick rubbing against Jungkook’s with each thrust. Your walls tighten around Jungkook and Taehyung as the seconds pass and you know you’re already close to your third orgasm of the night but you try to hold off despite the room spinning. All you can do is lay there for Jungkook to ravish and control, for Taehyung to enjoy, too caught up in the moment. Your breasts bounce wildly with each thrust Jungkook makes and his gaze seems fixated on your chest before flickering down to watch himself disappear inside you each time. Taehyung is raking his fingers through your hair, soothing you through your next climax and it’s close.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses, panting hard. “I’m not gonna last.”

You push your hips forward as if to probe him on and he growls.

“No, shit, let me enjoy this, baby,” he whines. “Ah, so tight━”

He’s grumbling to himself, cursing under his breath and you smirk tiredly. Jungkook leans his head down to kiss at your chest, catching one of your nipples in his warm mouth. His tongue swishes back and forth over the perked bud and your chest arches into his face. Your fingers are clutching tight at his hair even as he obeys and adds more force with each thrust, slowly picking up his pace. His mouth widens and he sinks lower on your breast, humming against you in pleasure. Taehyung’s own pace quickens. It’s not as relentless as Jungkook’s but he makes sure to help aid you to your high, ramming his hips into yours until both their cocks slip into a seamless pattern. All you can focus on is the crude wetness, the way their dicks threaten to slip from your hold at how sloppy and wrecked your cunt becomes.

“Ah, yes,” You hiss. “Fuck, yes, yes━ So good, oh my god━ Right there━”

Your voice is cut off by a loud moan. You feel the familiar wave hit you once more and this time you hardly have any strength to fight it off or welcome it.

“I can’t━” You wail suddenly. “Fuck, I can’t━ I’m gonna cum━”

You’re fumbling for words to warn him that you’re close before you’re cuming around them. Their names wrench from your throat in no discernible pattern, accompanied by vulgar curses. Your body writhes between the two boys, your chest arching into his mouth, your legs tightening around Jungkook’s waist.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Jungkook coos. “Come on, wanna feel you cream all over us━”

Stars form behind your eyelids and explode into galaxies as they swirl down your spine and to the tip of your toes, making them and your fingers curl in delight. Your vision grows blurry and tears stream down your face at the build up of pressure finally being released for the third time and you can’t help it when your mantra turns into delighted sobs and whimpers. You’re clenched so tight that Jungkook feels as if he hardly has any space to move and the confinement of his length has him gasping. He pulls apart from your breast to watch your scrunched up face with hooded eyes. He moans again, and desperately leans down to suck at your jawline.

You’re too spent to keep up with him or Taehyung as he helps you further to your high but you know Jungkook is close when his thrusts become messy, quick spurts. You gasp each time he thrusts up into you until he’s finally cuming.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Gonna cum━ Gonna let us fill you up, baby?”

“Please, please, wanna feel it,” You mewl.

He slams his hips into yours and stills for a moment as he releases into you in one hot wave and emits a beautiful moan of your name. You’re panting hard even as he rides out both your highs with a few more incredibly sloppy pumps before he finally collapses against your chest. The two of you are struggling to catch your breaths, your heart beating in your ears.

The room is silent, blissful, and it takes you a few moments of basking in it before you’ve regained your breath. Your fingers rake in Jungkook’s soft and sweaty hair and you hum in content. His mouth presses a few open mouthed and hot kisses along your neck and jawline before connecting with your own mouth. This time, the kiss is chaste and you smile against his lips before he’s pulling out of you. You moan at the missing feeling of his warmth and the way his own cum leaks from your core, down Taehyung’s cock, and your own thighs.

But Taehyung isn’t done. He thrusts up into you to ride out his own high, pushing Jungkook’s release back into you. His pace is steady, deep, and all you can both do is moan and gasp for air.

“Fuck, Tae,” You rasp tiredly. “Cum for me, baby.”

The boy gasps for air, nearly fumbling behind you to reach his high. “Gonna make this pussy mine. Fuuck━”

When Taehyung finally reaches his own high, it’s in another sticky stream of hot cum, each fluid mingling with the other in a pitiful mess. He pulls his slackened length from you and you whimper at sudden the loss, core and legs aching. As you slide onto the bed between the two tired and breathless boys, Jungkook wipes at your glistening core with a shirt and you sigh in content.

“Why haven’t we done that before?” You gasp, earning a chuckle from both. Jungkook lets out a boisterous laugh and you flick his arm. “If you say anything dumb, we’re never having a round two.”

“Round two?” he asks, wriggling his brows. “You want this to happen again?”

You nod, though you can already start to feel yourself succumb to sleep as it creeps upon you. “What do you think, Tae?”

“I think,” The older boy hums, “that’s your best idea yet.”

Jungkook seems surprised, excited even, and you smile sleepily. Taehyung throws his arm over your waist and pulls your back to his chest, wrapping you in his arms as he slips off to sleep.

Before you fall asleep that night, you snake your arm up Jungkook’s chest and let your hand rest against his beating heart which you can still feel beating shrilly even long after your messy night together.

You awake to the familiar sound of your alarm.

It’s loud, annoying, and jolts you awake only to toss you into a haze of muddled confusion and an incredibly terrible hangover. Your head throbs and your body aches. Sunlight splashes in from the closed blinds and illuminates your face, making you squint.

“Turn that off, Jesus Christ, Y/N,” Taehyung snaps, his voice muffled and aggravated.

Your mind is too groggy to realize he’s sleeping next to you, too groggy to suddenly remember what happened the night before. Until, of course, you feel your limbs tangled with not only Taehyung’s but another’s. When you crane your neck to look, you see Jeon Jungkook splayed out beside you sleeping peacefully and you gasp.

The events of the night before suddenly flood your mind and everything is hazy up until your wild time with the two boys. Your muddled sober mind alerts your heart and suddenly it’s beating hard and fast in your chest as you register the situation. You’re used to waking up with a naked Taehyung by your side but never were you used to waking up next to a naked Taehyung and Jungkook.

Jungkook stirs in his sleep then and you curse silently, diving for your phone on the floor before realizing your drastic mistake. Your core is still tender and your legs feel so delicate, nearly caving in beneath you as you wobble precariously. Somehow, you manage to grab your phone and tap the snooze button hastily. Taehyung’s still half asleep on his side but Jungkook lays on his back and you’re surprised to see him looking up at you with a quirked eyebrow and a tiny smirk.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” You hiss. “Holy shit, that wasn’t a dream?”

You gnaw on your lower lip and reach down blindly to grab the nearest article of clothing on the floor (one of Taehyung’s shirts) to toss over your bare body. To soothe your aching muscles, you resort to kneeling on the edge of the bed.

“It wasn’t,” Taehyung murmurs.

“Nice to know you think our dicks are dream worthy though,” Jungkook snorts. “So when’s our round two?”

Your promise from the night before dawns on you all too suddenly and, though you feign your usual annoyance for both boys, the potential prospect of another night with the two of them thrills you to no end.

“I━ I━” You stammer.

“Come back here, baby,” Taehyung muses. “It’s too early to be up right now. You can sleep a bit longer before you pretend you hate the both of us.”

Your eyes flicker down to your phone to check the time: 6 a.m. You can barely walk, let alone function this early in the morning, even without the added stress of your hangover, and sleep seems far too appealing to ignore. Maybe you can stay for a few more hours…

“Fine,” You grumble. You crawl back between them and wiggle around until you’re laying back on the bed. “But you’re making me that cup of coffee when I wake up, Taehyung.”

“Anything else, princess?” Taehyung grins.

“Maybe run me a bath too,” You wince as you settle back against the bed. “Everything hurts.”

“Will do,” Jungkook says. “Gotta do the most to make sure we get that second round. Now, come here━”

The boys snicker and, soon, the three of you have slipped back into a peaceful slumber.

You know that when you wake you’ll profusely deny that the night before and the morning after had ever happened; that you’ll never again find yourself in either Jungkook’s or Taehyung’s bed, much less with the both of them at the same time ━ but you find that you never really listen much to rules anyway.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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css1992 · 3 years

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Guilty Pleasure

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM. All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X / Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

Living with Ned and MJ was both a dream come true and a bit of a nightmare.

A dream, because when they were kids, they always talked about how they would all go the same college and live together one day, and Peter would finally have a real home – and a real family, he used to think to himself, in secret.

A nightmare, because he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of his friends, and that was the worst kind of feeling to have for the people who opened their arms and their home for him when he needed the most. Still, he couldn’t avoid it and he felt awful for that. They were both attending NYU; Ned was majoring in Computer Science and MJ in Journalism. All according to the plans they made in high school.

When Peter was younger, he made plans, too. He wanted to study Biochemistry, his teachers used to say he could probably get a scholarship to a good college, he was smart enough. Mr. Harrington, his science teacher, even offered to write letters of recommendation for him. Instead, Peter’s life choices led him to his current predicament: a 20 year-old porn actor, selling dirty pictures for a living, crashing on his friends’ couch, not a single dollar in his wallet.

He was definitely not getting any awards for good decision making, that was for sure.

He had been staying with Ned and MJ for a week when he was finally able to set up his Just4Fans account. He knew that had to be a temporary thing, it couldn’t last, even if he wanted it to. He wouldn’t be young forever, let alone a “pretty twink”, as his subscribers loved to call him. He had maybe three or four years left of that hype, at most, then he would be too old for that, and/or people would start getting bored of him. So he had to be smart, the plan was to save up as much as he could while he thought about what he was going to do once the fountain of youth dried up, and the clock was ticking fast.

But for the time being, porn.

Good thing he had his own Instagram account with a few thousand followers. All the other social media accounts were under Beck’s name, and those had hundreds of thousands of followers, but Peter no longer had access to them – he checked. He also checked and noticed that Beck hadn’t announced that they had split up yet, his last post dated from five days earlier, when he released their last video together – two days after kicking him out of the house, the asshole.

So Peter posted a few Instagram stories explaining to his followers that he and Beck weren’t a thing anymore – he didn’t give many details, he didn’t want any drama, specially not with Beck – and that he had set up a Just4Fans account for the time being. In minutes, his Instagram blew up. Apparently, people were either heartbroken over their breakup; relieved he “got rid of that perv!”; or devastated they wouldn’t get to see them doing porn together anymore.

He got a hundred subscribers in just a few hours, which was incredible. The subscription fee was ten dollars a month, so even after the website’s cut plus tax deduction, it still was a good start. He wondered what kind of money Beck made with their videos, because they had thousands of subscribers on their channel.

Once he got the hang of the site, he tried to post at least two sets of pictures a day – which was challenging at that moment, because the apartment was tiny and he didn’t have any outfits or toys with him, they were all at Beck’s. He made plans that as soon as he got the subscription money in around fifteen days, he would try to buy a few things and take tons of pictures to last a few weeks.

He also made sure to answer people’s messages every single day, which often earned him a little more money in tips. It was shocking how many people were willing to tip him just because he answered them. Some other people asked for extra content, like specific pictures, videos or even voice notes, which he sent via “pay-per-view messages”.

In the end, he felt like he was prostituting himself. Again.

He would never judge a person for earning their living in any way necessary, as long as it didn’t hurt anyone, he just never thought that would be him. Never ever. As a kid, he thought he’d be an astronaut. Growing up, he wanted to be a physicist. As a teen, he made plans to study Biochemistry. And somehow he ended up selling his body online, one way or another.

He didn’t dwell on that for long, he focused on the fact that it was temporary. If he managed to retain at least some of the people that had subscribed to his account for two or three years, then he would be able to start a small business of some kind in the future. Maybe he could go back to school. Twenty-three wasn’t too old for college, right?

Right.

It was two weeks later when he got a weird message. Not a weird message, actually, a weird tip. Someone under the username of YKWIM had sent him ten thousand dollars for no reason, there was no prior conversation, nor did the person ask for anything in return. Peter was sure there must have been a mistake, maybe they had typed in some extra zeros or maybe they had sent it to the wrong person, so he decided to reach out.

“Hey. I think there must’ve been some sort of mistake with your last tip. Lol.”

He left his phone on the counter and got started on dinner. He was a terrible cook, but to be fair, they all were, so it was fine. Ned and MJ were both at work, but they would be home soon and they were having a quiet night in. Those few weeks at their place had been good for Peter, it felt nice not to be alone after what happened, but at the same time, he was starting to feel like he really needed his own space. He was already looking for an apartment to move into as soon as he got the money. He was hoping to get one in the same building or at least close by, so that they could still see each other often.

His cell phone beeped as he sliced some onions and he stopped to check.

“Hey, gorgeous. There’s been no mistake, it’s correct.” Peter was taken aback by the answer, so he checked again to see how much the person had tipped him, and sure enough, there it was. Ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand. American dollars.

“Oh. Wow, that was very, very generous of you. Is there any particular content that you’d like to see from me as a thank you? I could send you exclusive pics and videos, whatever you want.” Inwardly, he was thinking that no amount of pictures or videos from him would ever be worth ten thousand dollars. Ten thousand dollars, holy fuck.

“That would be excellent.”

“Great. What would you like to see?”

Please don’t be weird, please don’t be weird, please don’t be weird… Usually, Peter’s subscribers liked to see him in cute outfits or with cute toys, but some people liked very messed up stuff. He usually said no, but that person had just sent him ten thousand dollars. Fuck, that was so much money, it would cover rent for at least a few months.

“I’ve enjoyed everything you’ve put out so far, baby, so surprise me. I’m sure I’m gonna like whatever you send.”

God, generous and reasonable? Had Peter died and gone to porn heaven?

“You flatter me.” He typed in quickly, leaving the sauce unattended for a few seconds. “Give me a few hours to work on it, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Take your time, but I don’t think you could disappoint me if you tried.”

Peter felt so stupid when he blushed and giggled to himself, because that was exactly how Beck lured him in when he was seventeen, with charming, easy words. He was an adult now, for Christ’s sake, and he didn’t even know who he was talking to. To be fair, it was probably a woman. For some weird reason, according to his Just4Fans statistics, a surprisingly large percentage of his subscribers were middle-aged, cisgender, heterosexual women. Peter supposed those were the ones who used to follow his “love story” with Beck – most of them hadn’t got over them yet, apparently they were “the perfect couple! So cute!”.

He couldn’t blame them, they sold them the perfect love story. And for a time, it was true. Peter really thought Beck was it for him, the love of his life, his soulmate. He didn’t know at which point it all became an act to Beck – or if maybe it had always been an act.

He sighed, shaking his head, he couldn’t afford to waste time thinking about him, so he focused on what he should send YKWIM.

As he finished making dinner, he tried to come up with ideas. They said they loved everything Peter had posted so far – he had posted thirty pictures and five short clips over the past two weeks. The pictures were all in MJ’s bedroom – she offered –, most of them in her bed. There were only a few pictures in which he was completely naked, in the others he had some sort of underwear on – lingerie or tight briefs.

So, he decided he should do something similar, but different enough that YKWIM would feel somewhat special. He had a few good ideas, but they would have to wait for the next morning, he would need good lighting and privacy.

“Hey, nerd, what’s up,” He almost burned his fingers when he heard MJ’s voice, and realized he had spaced out for a minute there. He shook his head quickly and smiled at her.

“Nothing, how was you day?”

The next morning, once Ned went to visit his family and MJ left for work, Peter started working on the pictures. For some reason, he didn’t want to tell his friends about YKWIM, just like he didn’t want to tell them about Beck when they first met, three years earlier. And if he really was as smart as his teachers used to say, he would have seen the pattern. But as it was, he just focused on the fact that YKWIM was probably a woman living on the other side of the world, who just liked to get off to pictures of pretty boys in lingerie.

But.

For the sake of getting in the mood for the pictures, he imagined YKWIM was a guy. Not too tall, but taller than him. He imagined he had a beard, but not a full one, like Beck’s, no, perfectly trimmed, scratchy, in a good way. He’d have dark, warm eyes, not blue and cold. He’d be older, older than Beck, more mature than him. A real man. Maybe he’d have a few streaks of gray amidst his otherwise dark hair.

He’d be gentle, despite Peter’s past. He’d treat him like he was the first one to ever touch him, even if he knew that was far from the truth. He would be careful, mindful of his pleasure. He’d start off slowly, kissing along his collarbones, fingers brushing the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs, just shy of where Peter wanted him to touch, as his mouth traveled down his chest; hot, moist breath leaving a trail of kisses down his stomach.

He sighed. Yeah, that would do to put him in the mood.

He put on a white t-shirt that was just long enough to graze the tops of his thighs, and a simple, plain black thong. He decided to take the pictures in the shower – the classic wet, white t-shirt, he couldn’t really go wrong with that. He positioned the camera on top of the bathroom sink, set the timer, and started posing.

First, he rested his back against the wall, one hand pulling the t-shirt down to cover the front his underwear, eyes staring directly at the camera lens as water ran down his face, neck and chest, making his nipples stiffen, becoming visible under the wet shirt.

Next, he pressed his chest to the wall, looking at the camera from over his shoulder, lips parted, just a peek of his exposed ass cheeks showing where the t-shirt ended, but by then it was so wet it was mostly see-through.

Then he turned so his side was facing the camera and stuck his head directly under the stream of water, running his hands through his hair, back arched obscenely, eyes closed. He let his hands travel all the way down his neck, chest, and stomach, hearing the familiar “click” as the camera took several pictures.

He turned around again, placed his hands on the wall and lifted his t-shirt just over his lower back, sticking his ass out, showing off his provocative underwear.

He got out of the shower and turned the camera into filming mode, then got back under the water and also shot a short clip of he sensually and slowly taking the thong off, but in a way that the viewer couldn’t really see the skin that was revealed. He pulled the wet t-shirt down so it covered everything, but by then it was so see-through that it left nothing to the imagination. Peter twirled a little, then threw an innocent, shy smile at the camera.

That should do it.

He finished his shower, put the wet clothes in the washer, then went to edit the pictures. He didn’t do much, just adjusted the light and contrast, then cut them into squares, because he though it looked classier or whatever. He chuckled to himself at the absurdity of that thought, as he attached the photos and the video to a direct message to YKWIM.

“Hey, gorgeous! Hopefully these won’t disappoint. Let me know if you’d like something different.”

He cringed re-reading the message, he thought he sounded desperate and insecure about himself and he supposed that wasn’t very attractive, so he decided to change it just a little.

“Hey, gorgeous! Hopefully these won’t disappoint.” And he finished off with a hot face emoji, because why not.

He sent the message and went on with his day. Ned and MJ were both back for lunch and since none of them felt like cooking – and they all sucked at it anyway –, they ordered something to eat in front of the TV, as they binge-watched the first seasons of The Office.

“Oh, hey, Pete, I almost forgot, I talked to our landlord earlier and he said there’s an apartment on the fifth floor that should be vacated by the end of the month, if you’re interested,” Ned told him around a mouthful of pizza and Peter’s head snapped up.

“I’m definitely interested!”

“Cool, I’ll talk to him for you, I’m sure I can get you a good deal on rent.” He winked, and Peter smiled, feeling hopeful.

Things were getting better. Slowly, yes, but they were. He was spending time with his friends – who he had neglected for the past two years–; he had a good amount of money to withdraw in the next few days, that could get him going for a while; he was still doing porn, yes, but at least he was in control of the whole thing, including his own body, which was nice; and he only cried for Beck every other night instead of every single night, so he had that going for him.

All in all, things were looking up.

Ned and MJ convinced him to go out for a bit in the afternoon, they said he had been cooped up in the apartment for three weeks and should breathe in some fresh air, and since it was the first somewhat warm day of March, they decided to go jog at Central Park in the afternoon. They didn’t really jog, but they walked around some and Peter must admit that it felt good to stretch his legs and feel the sun on his skin for a change.

They were lying on the grass, resting for a bit, when they saw a blur of red and gold fly overhead. People started cheering and clapping and Peter smiled when MJ groaned, because he knew exactly what she was going to say.

“How can people cheer for that guy, he’s an egocentric, misogynistic, elitist, disgusting asshole.” He laughed to himself, because he knew what came next.

“He’s a genius, he changed the world multiple times and he even saved it at least twice. I think he’s pretty cool,” Ned argued without any heat and Peter could hear MJ rolling her eyes.

Peter didn’t love or hate Tony Stark or Iron Man, like most people, he just – didn’t pay him any mind. Sure, when he was a kid, he was obsessed with him, he was New York’s first superhero after Captain America, who was still in the ice when Stark announced he was Iron Man. But as he grew older, he had other concerns in mind other than who was the coolest Avenger, so he kind of forgot they existed, except for when there was some crazy alien threat looming over New York City – which was, like, a biannual thing since they found out aliens existed back in 2012.

The fact that Iron Man was flying over Central Park on a Saturday afternoon was a little alarming though. From what Peter knew, Stark was mostly retired since around 2016, he only ever “avenged” when there was a big threat, like the near-end-of-the-world they had back in 2018.

“Do you think we’re under attack?” Peter asked and Ned shook his head calmly.

“Nah, I think he must be late for something. I read an interview recently and he said he uses the suit sometimes when he needs to get some place fast.”

Seemed like overkill, but who was Peter to judge, he would probably do the same if had a suit like that.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the park and then headed home for the night. MJ turned in early, she said she was beat from a busy week, and Peter and Ned stayed up until a little later, re-watching Star Wars movies. It was close to 2AM when Ned said his goodnight and Peter went to check his Just4Fans, because he hadn’t answered any messages all day long.

There were quite a few, but he did notice there was one missing. YKWIM hadn’t answered him yet and Peter immediately felt like a failure. They probably hated the pictures, they must have thought “ugh, ten thousand dollars for that?”. Peter should have photoshopped them. He could have made himself look at least a little bit better, if only–

Before he could hate on himself too much, YKWIM messaged him, like they could read minds. Peter quickly opened their chat, still a little worried about their reaction to the pictures.

“Damn, baby! You have no fucking idea what those did to me. Fuck! Can I show you? Please?”

Peter was oddly relieved to read that, and was endeared by the fact that they actually asked before sending a dick pic. Or a clit pic? Was that a thing?

“Of course, gorgeous, I’d love to see it.”

Within seconds, they sent a video in the chat. Peter was a little surprised by that, but pressed play anyway, and almost fell off the couch when he did.

It was a thirteen seconds video. He could see the man’s midriff, all the way down to the tops of his thighs. His belly was toned and spattered with dark hair that led down to perfectly trimmed pubes that framed the most beautiful cock Peter had ever seen. There was no other way to put it.

It was long and thick, but not so much so that it would hurt – Peter knew better –, it stood proudly between his thighs, attached to a heavy set of balls that made his mouth water. He was jacking it mercilessly, Peter could only hear him grunting quietly before his balls recoiled and he came, covering his stomach in thick, pearly white come. Peter whimpered, pressing down on his hard-on, and almost cried when the video was over.

“Fuck, daddy, that was so fucking hot.” It was probably the first time ever that he actually meant that answering a DM from a subscriber.

“That was the third time today, baby, I have been thinking about those pics from the minute you sent them. Spent the whole day with blue balls, even after coming twice.”

Fuck.

“Wish I could have helped you with that.”

“Who knows, honey, maybe someday.”

Yeah, Peter thought, biting his pillow on the couch so he wouldn’t be heard when he came embarrassingly hard in his pajamas pants, face burning with shame. Maybe someday.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark

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thisisawonderfulusername · 4 years

Text

let's save the world

season one, episode seven

five hargreeves x reader

summary: you, five, allison, and diego go to find out who harold jenkins is and to try and stop him, but that mission is cut short when you see that five is hurt

trigger warnings: cursing, some angst(?)

word count: 3k

a/n: this one’s a bit shorter, so i apologize for that, but there wasn’t as much action in this episode so i worked with what i had. i guess since it came out way quicker, that kind of makes up for it lol. anywho, enjoy!

“who the hell is harold jenkins?”

you watch as he throws the coffee cup behind him, dropping the briefcase to your side. “we don’t know.” five tells them, letting out a heavy breath.

“yet.” you quickly add on, running your fingers through your hair with a heavy sigh. “we don’t know who he is, yet.” you hoped three days would be enough to find out. “we do know that he’s responsible for the apocalypse. so we have to find him. and we have to do it now.”

“how is he connected to what’s going to happen?” luther asks, looking between the two of you. all of them were confused, and understandably so. after disappearing yesterday, you suddenly come back and know what to do to stop the end of the world. you would be confused too.

“we don’t know.” five says simply with a shrug of his shoulders. it was frustrating, not knowing anything but the name of who you needed to stop. there could be many harold jenkinses, all in their own little areas of the city. you only had three days to find out which one you needed to stop, though, and you couldn’t waste any of that time.

diego steps past his siblings, and you notice the sling holding his arm. that was new. “wait, so you only know this guy’s name?” he questions, “that’s it?”

“it’s all we need.” five responds, to which you nod in agreement.

diego isn’t so ready to believe you and just go with it. “there are probably dozens of harold jenkinses in this city.” pursing your lips at the obvious statement, you stay quiet for a moment.

“well, i guess we better start looking.” you breathe out, not wanting to deal with this any longer. it’s not like you have unlimited time to figure this out. you only had around seventy-two hours, and you weren’t even sure if that was enough.

allison crosses her arms over her chest, “i��m sorry, am i the only one that’s skeptical here?” she asks, everyone turning to look at her. “i mean, how exactly do you know all of this about what’s his name?”

“harold jenkins.” five reminds her, clearly just as annoyed as you. “you know those lunatics in masks who attacked the house?”

klaus scratches the back of his head, his nose scrunched up slightly. “oh, yeah, i think i remember those guys.”

“yeah, the ones that attacked us because they were looking for you guys.” diego says accusingly, nodding his head slightly. “and you know what? i have more questions about that night. specifically for you.” he points at you and you roll your eyes.

sighing heavily, you decide it would be best to just tell them everything to get it out of the way and stop wasting time. “fine,” you begin, stepping forward slightly, “i’m one of you guys. i’m pyrokinetic. which means i can control fire.” you look between them, lips pressed together into a thin line. “any questions?” diego is about to speak again but you cut him off, “no? okay, good. let’s get back to what’s actually important, yeah?”

“yes, that would be nice.” five agrees, leaning against the back of the couch. “those guys were sent by the temps commission to stop us from coming back and preventing the apocalypse.”

“the temps what?” allison asks, voicing the confusion that all of them had etched on their faces.

shaking your head, you begin to pace. “our former employer. they monitor all of time and space to make sure that whatever is meant to happen,” you pause for a moment, freezing your movement as you look to them, “happens.”

five nods, “they believe the apocalypse is coming in three days. so,” you begin your pacing once again, walking slowly around the couch, “we went to the commission headquarters and intercepted a message that was meant for the lunatics you met.”

“that message,” you tell them, sitting on the couch and facing them, “was what we gave you. ‘protect harold jenkins.’ if the commission wants him protected, he must be what causes the end of the world.”

it’s silent as the siblings look to the two of you, processing everything they had been told. then, all of a sudden, they all speak at once, asking too many questions to comprehend. the only thing that you really heard was allison’s remark about how insane all of this is.

“you know what else is insane?” five finally reached his breaking point, and you sigh softly as you hold your head in your hands. “we look thirteen again.” he simply says, “klaus talks to the dead, and luther thinks he’s fooling everybody with that overcoat.” he points at the two of them, before looking at all of them with narrowed eyes. “everything about us is insane. always has been.”

klaus lifts his head from the arm of the chair he’s sitting in, “he’s got a point there.”

ignoring the remark, five continues. “we didn’t choose this life.” he shrugs, “we’re just living it. for the next three days, at least.”

“the last time we tried to stop it, we all died.” allison argues, gesturing to the other siblings. “why is this time any different? why shouldn’t i go home to my daughter?”

groaning silently to yourself, you stand back up, “what’s different this time,” you speak through gritted teeth, “is that you have us.” you gesture between yourself and five, “we know what we’re doing, and we have the name of the guy we have to stop.”

“we have the chance to save the lives of billions of people.” five tells them, looking to allison. “including claire.”

there’s a moment of silence once again, and allison furrows her eyebrows. “you know her name?”

“i do.” he responds, nodding slightly. “i’d like to live long enough to meet her.”

looking between luther and diego, allison slowly nods as well. “alright. let’s get this bastard.”

diego also seems to be convinced. “you had me at gerald jenkins.” you roll your eyes at his mistake.

“harold. harold jenkins.” you correct, raising an eyebrow at him.

he shakes his head, “whatever. i’ve already lost two people this week. i’m not losing anyone else.”

“yes!” you cheer, raising a fist in the air. “yes! finally, you’re understanding.” you grin, clasping your hands together. “what about you, big guy?” you look to luther expectantly.

“you guys go.” he tells you as diego comes to stand by your side. “i’m going to go through dad’s files. i still think this has something to do with why he sent me to the moon.” one step forward, two back, apparently. you weren’t expecting luther to get it, but it was still quite annoying.

diego raises an eyebrow at him, “really? you’re making the end of the world about you and dad now?” he questions, clearly annoyed.

“no- he told me to watch for threats.” luther defends himself, “that’s not a coincidence. it all has to be connected somehow.”

allison steps to his side, trying to convince him that they need to stick together. you clap your hands together, “we don’t have the time for this. let him stay.”

“let’s roll.” diego instructs, “i know where we can find this asshole. klaus, you’re with me.”

everyone looks over to klaus as he sits up, “yeah, i’m good.” he renounces, pushing himself up from the chair. “i think i’ll pass. feeling a little... under the weather.” he leaves the room, abandoning the little mission you had created.

sighing softly, you follow as diego and five walk out of the room, ready to get this all done with and be finished with the task of stopping the end of the world.

finding harold jenkins was a lot easier than you thought it would be. turns out, diego being a vigilante actually helped out, since he was able to get the file of the man. apparently, allison recognized him, and he had been flirting around with vanya, and she didn’t even know his real name.

getting out of the car, you sigh softly. his house was just a normal house, in the middle of a small, normal neighborhood. nothing you would expect for someone who was going to end the world.

“be careful. we don’t know what peabody’s capable of.” allison warns as you all walk up the path to the house, which seemed to be empty at the moment. lucky timing, apparently.

diego brushed off her warning, “he didn’t seem dangerous when i saw him.” he dismisses, “looked kind of scrawny.”

“so are most mass murderers and serial killers.” she shoots back, gesturing to five, “look at him.”

“thanks.” he mutters.

“good point.” diego concurs, leading up the steps to the porch. “what’s this guy want with vanya?” he questions.

“no clue. why don’t we ask him once he’s dead?” you respond, giving a sarcastic grin.

diego holds out a hand to stop the both of you, and you sigh softly. “alright, i’m gonna-” he cuts himself off when he sees that allison wasn’t there anymore, sighing and rolling his eyes in exasperation. “it would be nice for people to just stick to the-”

he once again stops talking when five grabs your hand and you both disappear with a flash. now inside the house, you glance around, jumping slightly when you hear glass shattering, followed by diego groaning in pain.

walking past him to the door, you turn the handle, grinning slightly when it easily opened. “it was unlocked.” you inform him, allison chuckling beside you.

“my way works just fine.” he mutters in response, getting up from the glass covered floor. picking some of the shards off of his clothes, “spread out. yell if you, uh... you know, you’re in trouble.”

after watching him walk off, you shake your head and split up from the other two with a small wave as you go down the hallway next to the stairs. surprisingly, it was normal. nothing that an ordinary person wouldn’t have in their home- some pictures hanging on the walls, a small bathroom.

while you were rooting around, allison called for you guys from where she was upstairs, apparently finding something of importance. all of you quickly make your way up, seeing the hatch to the attic open.

taking a deep breath, you watch as the boys go up the ladder before following them up, seeing that the attic was decorated in an interesting fashion. umbrella academy decorations- figurines of them when they were kids, heads burned off, posters with their faces scratched out. this was definitely not normal.

“this guy’s got some serious issues.” diego mumbles, examining everything.

biting your lip, you look around a bit. “i don’t think he was ever interested in vanya.” you voice your thoughts slowly, “he was trying to get to you guys. call it a hunch.”

suddenly, there’s a thump, and when you look to your side, five had fallen to the ground. your eyes widen as you quickly crouch beside him. “what’s wrong? what happened?” he’s breathing heavily, and his lack of a response worries you to no end.

allison pulls his shirt up slightly when she sees the blood staining it, and she sees the shrapnel in his abdomen. “why didn’t you say anything?” diego questions him, raising an eyebrow.

“you need to keep going.” five breathes out, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the floor. “we’re so close.”

you’re shocked you don’t stop breathing when he loses consciousness. “shit.” you barely hear the crack in your voice, because all you hear is a ringing in your ears. “get him- get him in the car! we need to get him back to the academy-” you jump to your feet, and your legs feel like jelly, but you can’t stop for anything.

it felt like a blur, helping allison and diego get five down the stairs and into the car, where he laid across the seat with his head resting in your lap. the whole time, your heart was pumping so hard and it felt like you weren’t breathing for a good while. five was falling in and out of consciousness, and you kept your fingers on his wrist to reassure yourself that his heart was still beating.

when you finally got back into the academy, you all carried him in as quick as possible, and you felt as if you had calmed down, even just a little bit. sure, your heart still pounded in your chest and you had to work to control your breathing, but at least you could think rationally.

“we should’ve taken him to the hospital.” allison breathes out as you all shuffle across the floor, trying not to drop five onto the hard wood floors.

“a kid with a shrapnel wound might raise some questions.” five mumbles, and you sigh softly, relieved to know that he wasn’t dead just yet.

you all manage to get over to the couch and lay him down very carefully, “yeah, well, so does the murder shrine in harold jenkins’ attic.” allison shoots back, beginning to pull off her jacket, “he’s still losing blood. what do we do?”

“we gotta get the shrapnel out.” diego commands, looking up from the boy for a moment, before he seems to get distracted by something, walking off into the hall and not responding when allison calls out to him.

letting out a short breath, you hesitantly move away from five’s side, following where diego went to see what had him so distracted from something so important. you see grace, and diego looks confused, but you feel as if your heart just went soaring. she’ll be able to help five.

you sat in the silent room, picking at your nails as you stare at the equations all over the walls, things you could never understand no matter how hard you tried.

after getting grace’s help to remove the shrapnel and take care of the wound, you had calmed down significantly. your heart was no longer beating so fast that you could hear it, and you had controlled your breathing.

now, you sat, just waiting. allison and diego left to chase after another lead for where harold could be, and grace had left the room once five’s wound was clean. it was only you and him. and delores.

looking at the mannequin, you scrunch your nose up, tapping your fingers against your forearm. her lifeless eyes stared into your own, and you couldn’t stand it.

“what the hell are you looking at?” you hiss, glaring at the fake woman. it felt like she was mocking you, even if she wasn’t even alive. “you shouldn’t even be here. it’s not like you’re helping at all.”

you cross one leg over the other, leaning back in the chair you had claimed as you stared at her with narrowed eyes. “you’re just sitting there. you didn’t give him your blood, and you haven’t been the one helping him figure out how to stop the apocalypse. that’s all been me, not you.”

the silence is nearly deafening as you continue to stare into her eyes.

but you were a part of what got him here. you were a part of the reason he had shrapnel in his abdomen, causing this injury.

you sneer, lacing your fingers together and resting your hands on your knee. “i only set off a grenade. i didn’t put the shrapnel in him myself.”

silence, again. you realize then that you had been talking to the lifeless woman, and you groan loudly. all those years of solitude, you had been able to keep your sanity. now, it just may be slipping away.

“you’re only a mannequin.” you mutter, biting at your nail as you start to tap your foot. “soon enough, he’ll see that. he’ll realize that there are actual people around him, and it’ll be bye-bye delores!” you throw your hands up in the air, before you freeze in place.

quickly putting your arms down, you groan once again. “i am not going to do this.” you stand from the chair, moving around the bed and grabbing the plastic form, before throwing her into the wardrobe and shutting the doors on her. you sigh softly, “much better.”

taglists:

main: @horrorklaus

tua: @rasberrymay

five: @anapocalypseinmymind @five-hargreeves-official @insatiable-ivy @coffee-e-addict @xplrreylo

lstw: @ohmyitsfaith @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff @onedollarduck @sleepygal124 @faith-quake @stripedchickens @youcandalekmyballs @pettyjayy @libidinexx @wow-lookit-all-the-fandoms

#five hargreeves #number five #five #five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #tua x reader #five hargreeves one shot #five hargreeves imagine #tua #umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot series #reader insert #y/n #lstw #let's save the world

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super-hero-girls-netflix · 4 years

Note

Headcanons on disorders and illnesses (like ADHD, Anorexia, Some kind of condition or something) for both boys and girls?

ALL THE KIDS ARE DEPRESSED

It's a song by Jeremy Zucker

Lol.

Lesse. Everyone this HEADCANNON post has a mental illness. For the sake of the headcannon.

HEADCANNON CHALLENGE ACCEPTED

HEADCANNON #1- Karen

Karen had anxiety and depression. It comes hand in hand. The anxiety is not prominent and really the depression is only like a dark corner of her brain that only invades when the anxiety is high but...she has anxiety and temperamental depression.

Her anxiety is everpresent of course. Especially when she has to meet new people. But with time she wrangles her anxiety down and loosens up. It's a constant battle of 'of course they like me they're my friends' and 'am I annoying them' 'are they sick of me' 'do I matter to them as much they do to me?'.

It's exhausting. But of course..she won't let anxiety win. And neither will her friends! They makes sure to remind Karen just how special they know she is.

And that's final.

HEADCANNON #2- Kara

Kara always knew she had a bit of an anger problem. A quick temper. A psychoanalysis man told her that it was because I'm order to protect herself from being hurt she had to dismiss them.

She begged to differ. She wouldn't be so angry if people weren't so stupid. But whatever. She also had depression? Big whoop. It's not like she actually think anyway, or so she insists to the Danvers.

But the Danvers are dutiful legal guardians and got her a therapist. Of course she was super cold and prone to ignoring the man at first but somehow...over time...she told him everything.

Most of everything.

Things that pissed her off.

In fact, this is how most meetings start:

Kara, skateboarding into the room, with a smoothie in hand: Bruh, you won't believe what happened to me last night.

So...instead of stewing in anger she just spills out every single thing that makes her want to commit murder.

HEADCANNON #3- Jess

Depression. Just depression. Depression everywhere.

It isn't obvious. She's so out together and calm and collected. None of the stereotypical signs.

But you can tell when she starts to sleep less and talk less. When her words slur and her movements are slightly erratic.

When she neglects herself.

The girls make sure that Jess knows that they're there when she needs them. Jess is good at faking happiness, but they're good at detecting bullshit.

HEADCANNON #4- Diana

She is mental illness free. At least the kind that is hardwired into her brain. The kind people are born with.

But depression isn't always genetic.

And PTSD definitely isn't.

Diana has been sheltered in a pretty morally correct place but she has lived alongside monsters of Greek mythology.

She is pretty confident about most but she cannot, I repeat, she cannot, stand bears. And it might seem silly but seeing bears or any rendition of it sends Diana into gory flashbacks.

For that specific reason Babs makes sure to hide all bear themed stuffed animals when Diana comes over.

HEADCANNON #5- Zee

Being in the spotlight all her life has made Zee rather accustomed to criticism. She was always a bit above it.

Petty commentary like 'so annoying' or 'does she think she's cute?' was beneath her concern.

But one always nagged at her.

'Look at her- so chubby!' 'Haha, hamster cheeks'.

That was when the meal skipping started, what was once neglecting breakfast and avoiding extra calories was soon lying about eating and even, on some rare occasions, going as far as throwing up what her father insisted she choked down.

Yes, a kid can be depressed at the ripe age of 8 years old.

Of course she's doing better now. Not skipping any meals. And not giving the comment section the time of day.

Still, she flinches when she hears whispers of 'chubby' or 'fat'.

HEADCANNON #6- Babs

ADHD, Babs has a lower amount of dopamine so that's why she's always looking for a new thrill. Something to invest in that will give her regular amount of dopamine.

Things that lower dopamine like studying or school is of course of no interest to her so she takes no interest in learning about it.

That's why she has trouble focusing on certain aspects of school.

The BORING aspects.

Of course being forced to focus on the BORING aspects lowers her dopamine and she goes to a lapse of what looks likes depression.

It's horrid.

She still hasn't figured bout a way to be entertained with boring stuff but... she's working on it.

The BOYS

HEADCANNON #1- Carter

Carter. He doesn't have depression. At least, not depression depression.

Lol, I know.

I like to believe, in my AU, that he is a selective mute. Which comes in and as a sever anxiety disorder. He only speaks to people he feels comfortable with, or he is used to. And only when it's something he feels comfortable about.

This is just a headcannon. I strongly believe that Carter, in a another AU, doesn't think the twerps worth his time, nevermind his voice.

HEADCANNON #2- Garth

He is one with Depression. In fact him and the rude voice in head engage in daily conversation.

Before he goes to his therapist.

Who likes spraying the surprisingly self-deprecating boy with her plant waterer spray.

No one knows.

No one asks.

How can the confident water boy prince have depression.

HEADCANNON #3- Hal

Good old fashioned depression.

That's it.

He's a depressed Fuck. Who's so obsessed with feeling fine again he can't see how he's hurting others.

But he's being forced to see a therapist (thanks Jess) and he's working on it.

HEADCANNON #4- Steve

ADHD, he's constantly not happy. Dopamine less. So he just keeps his facade of pleasantness on and tries to find ways to be happy.

He figured out quick he liked war stuff. Especially pilots.

Now sometimes it's all that gets him through it all.

Looks fine is most likely silently screaming.

HEADCANNON #5- Oliver

Has anxiety.

I know.

Wouldn't expect it, right?

He's so loud and charming and confident.

Yeah, well it's a layer of confidence. Bravado to shield him from the world.

Be warned that if a single insult hits him it will most likely hit hard- and result in him working even harder to perfect a role.

He does go to therapy though. But he isn't very good at being sincere about his feelings.

HEADCANNON #6- Barry

Bipolar disorder.

This poor boy suffers through the highs of mania and lows of depression.

However since he's always at a higher speed then others they can't tell when he's lagging or acting up.

Unless- unless they pay close attention.

No one really knows....

#dc super hero girls #dc superhero girls 2019 #dc superhero girls netflix #dc superheroes #dc super hero high #barry allen #carter hall #hal jordan #steve trevor #garth bernstein #oliver queen

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honeypiehotchner · 6 years

Text

Trust -- part one

Hi! Welcome to a new story...as if I have time for this. But I’m making the time because I’ve fallen in love with this show and these characters. I’ve opted to do longer chapters, so you can expect that, but short ones may get sprinkled in, who knows. I hope you enjoy xx.

(I'm also very nervous about being able to write Sherlock and John in character...so be gentle lol)

Warnings: none for now!

One glance to the side is all you need to know you’re being followed.

That, and the set of two footsteps behind you that have been behind you for four blocks now. You noticed them after the second block and have since been taking the craziest route you could think of to see if they truly are following you. If it is a simple coincidence, they would have turned and gone a different route or stopped somewhere. But when they’re still behind you after the second absolutely unnecessary left turn, you have all the information you need.

Both men are fairly tall, with the one directly behind you being the shortest – but still taller than you, dammit. They both look harmless – well, maybe except the tallest. He’s rather…what’s the word? Arrogant? His face says that alone, so there’s no telling what his personality will say.

The shorter is a different story. Blond hair, rather than dark brown like the taller. His smaller stature does give him the appearance of being friendly, although his posture says something else. Military background, no doubt. He could hurt someone if he really had to…but something tells you that’s typically his last resort.

He also looks familiar. A little too familiar.

You shake your head, trying to get that thought out of your head. You’ve met practically thousands of people, of course you’re going to come across a few people that look familiar. They all run together after a while.

After the fifth block, you decide to have some fun, mostly to see if they’re paying attention.

You fish your phone out of your pocket, going to the last number that called you. It doesn’t take an idiot to make this deduction. And your deduction is confirmed when the phone in the pocket of the taller male begins ringing.

You slow your pace, waiting for him to pick up, and when he does, you smile. “Do you ever get the feeling you’re being followed?”

Turning around with a wide grin, you see the confused face of the shorter man and the smirk of the taller.

“How did you—”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reply, ending the call and stuffing the phone back in your pocket. “What do you want? You’ve been following me for five blocks now, did you notice my absurd route?”

“I did, yeah,” the shorter replies, a little fed up by his taller companion’s silence.

“Well,” you breathe. “Tea?”

~~~

Sitting across from the two men that were following you was not exactly how you expected to be ending your day, and as you quietly sip your black tea, it’s clear that the taller wasn’t expecting this either.

“Do I get your names?” You ask a little forcefully. You don’t like being followed. “To put to these faces that have been following me for fifteen minutes.”

“John Watson, hi,” the shorter is first to extend his hand across the table.

Deciding not to be rude, you take his hand and shake it. Even if the name catches you off guard. “Odd,” you reply.

“What is?”

“The last name. Watson. It was my biological father’s surname.” You pause. You’d remember that man’s name until the day you die. Your mother talked about him constantly. “I didn’t take it, obviously. My name is Y/N L/N.” You turn to the taller who has been staring you down since you arrived. “And who are you?” When he doesn’t answer, you add, “Am I going to have to call you Curls?”

He doesn’t extend his hand. But he obviously didn’t like the nickname you had offered because he does tell you his actual name. “Sherlock Holmes.”

“Ah, that makes sense now,” you chuckle, bringing your cup to your lips, glad to have the pieces click into place. “John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. I should’ve known.”

“What?”

You give John a tired look. “I’ve been in London for only a few days. It’s my…third time being here. I should’ve known I’d run into the city’s consulting detective and his companion with the reputation I have.”

Sherlock’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“What? Reputation?” John asks. He’s never even heard of you before.

“She’s your sister, John, if you would observe instead of jump to conclusions—”

“Right, because your entire job isn’t based around you jumping to bloody conclusions every five seconds.”

“And you fight like an old married couple,” you click your tongue. “They got more right about you two than I thought.”

“Did you say she’s my sister?” John suddenly returns to Sherlock’s statement, now that it’s had time to sink in. “How?”

“Well, just by the surname,” you shrug, not at all fazed by the fact. “But I’m fairly certain your father wasn’t entirely faithful,” you reply simply, remembering when your mom told you about the time he had confessed he was engaged to someone else – that must’ve been John’s mother. And that he still saw her even after that. “I never knew him.” When you were born, he stopped coming around, according to your mother.

“Yes, which would explain for the difference in mannerisms. You,” Sherlock looks at John, “soaked up everything you could from your father – which is obvious, every boy does. But you,” he looks back to you, narrowing his eyes. “You have all your mannerisms from a mother. A clearly single mother, fighting on her own, trying to make ends meet,” he rakes his eyes over your clothes. “And you still have some habits, speaking to the coat you’re wearing that clearly came from a thrift store and the shoes you’re wearing that are two sizes too small.”

John’s eyes widen. While he is just finding out about you now, he still feels himself slipping into the protective older brother role – and he doesn’t like the nature of the deductions Sherlock has just voiced.

“Two sizes too small?” John asks incredulously.

But you’re too busy grinning, ignoring the comment about your shoes because really, it’s irrelevant. “Sherlock Holmes, you’re good.”

“Did I get anything wrong?”

You don’t mind his eagerness at all. “One thing.” You turn to John. “Should I tell him?”

John gives you a tired look, as if he would know what Sherlock had gotten wrong. “Well, I don’t know what it is.”

Of course he doesn’t. “This jacket isn’t from a thrift store. It was my mother’s. Hand-me-down.” You tug on the edges of it with a chuckle. “It does look like something you’d find in a thrift store, though, doesn’t it? She probably got it from one.”

“Your shoes are two sizes too small?”

You nod, finally addressing John’s concern – which you aren’t sure why he’s concerned, anyway. “Size differs from country to country. I didn’t have time to realize I’d grabbed the wrong pair before I ran.”

“What were you running from?”

You could answer John’s question easily, but from the look on Sherlock’s face, you know he could as well. You smile. “Sherlock Holmes? Ideas?”

“Four,” he answers instantly.

“Well, I’m eager to hear them.”

John can’t help but gape at you. Not only are you taking absolutely no shit from Sherlock in moments when most would begin to despise the man, but you’re also as far from John as he can possibly think. When John thought of having a sister, he expected her to be a little like him. But that’s far from the case when he sees you.

“Judging by the callouses on your fingers I’d say you are a musician of some kind, callouses equal strings that you have to press down. You’re right handed and the callouses are heaviest on your left hand – guitar, possibly.”

You raise an eyebrow. Surprisingly, he’s correct. Partly. You play other things besides guitar, but you’re sure he probably knows that. He probably also knows the callouses are from other things than playing guitar, but you give him time.

“But why would a guitarist run? You already stated you have a reputation – by your tone one can only assume it’s not a positive one you’re running from.”

You stir a little more sugar into your tea with a grin. “Continue.”

He narrows his eyes, sitting back in his seat. “That’s all.”

John answers before you can. “That’s all? That’s never all.”

“No, it’s fine,” you smirk. “He got more correct than I thought he would.”

Sherlock’s triumphant smirk is what you expect, but that’s not what you get. Sherlock only narrows his eyes more. He’s trying hard to figure you out, but he can’t. He’s able to make the simple deductions, but anything beyond that is coming up blurry. He can guess, sure, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to be sure of what he’s deducing.

“Well,” you breathe, noticing the wheels in Sherlock’s head turning, and the ticking clock on the wall behind his head. “While it was lovely to meet the both of you, I should really be going.”

“You have nowhere to stay.”

You look to Sherlock in surprise, though you shouldn’t be surprised that it’s that obvious. “And?”

“The—The flat below ours. It’s empty,” John fumbles. “I’m sure Ms. Hudson would let you stay there for the time being – or you can always sleep…in ours.” He slows down at the end there, the idea sounding more and more absurd as he goes on. He takes a deep breath. He doesn’t expect you to agree. You’ve only just met them, after all. Sister or not.

You pause, weighing the options. You truly don’t have anywhere else to stay, so even if you turn down this offer, you know you’d eventually end up at their place – or in some park, but you’d prefer to have a roof over your head tonight that’s not in the form of the London sky. Best to accept now and avoid looking like a royal moron when you show up inevitably at their door late at night.

“Alright,” you nod. “That’s very nice of you. Where is this flat?”

~~~

221B

Baker Street. That’s where Sherlock Holmes and John Watson live.

The walk was short. You somehow managed to circle around to the café right next to their place in your attempt to take such an absurd route around London. What are the odds? Unlikely. But here you are.

What’s even more unlikely is finding out you’re the half-sibling of John Watson – Dr. John Watson, as he told you. He was a military doctor in Afghanistan. You were going to guess Iraq, only because you knew a guy who was in Iraq, and he and John share some mannerisms. Beauty of the military, you suppose.

Ms. Hudson, as John had mentioned at the café, was absolutely delighted to find out you’d be staying in 221C for the time being. The flat is entirely empty, though, so she said you’d need to get some furniture. All you really think you’ll need is a mattress, though. You aren’t planning on staying here for too long. You never stay in one place for longer than a few months, usually.

“Oh, and don’t worry, you can do whatever you like to it,” Ms. Hudson gushes. “I’m just happy to have found someone to move in.”

You smile, not wanting to disappoint her with the fact of you not staying long. It’s rude. “Thank you. I really appreciate you letting me move in here.”

“I could use another woman in here,” she confesses. “Someone to help me reign these two in.”

Sherlock gives Ms. Hudson a strange look while John chuckles. It must be true then, what you’ve heard. That these two can be a complete and utter handful to have around.

“I’ll do my best,” you smile. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Oh, I’ll have to get them to turn the water on down here, dear, but it should be ready for you tomorrow.”

“You can use ours,” John offers with a smile. You study it, his smile. It’s similar to yours. It must be from his father. No wonder he looks familiar – and no wonder you two are related.

You know he’s dying to ask you some questions – his nervous stance told you that when you were in the café after Sherlock announced his revelation – so you allow John to guide you up the stairs to 221B.

It’s a mess, quite frankly. That’s the first thought you have upon entering their flat. It’s obvious which areas are Sherlock’s mess and which areas are John’s. Little cleaned off spaces show where John has just shoved Sherlock’s mess to the side to have his own space. And the science experiments all over the table in the kitchen are obviously Sherlock’s.

You roll your eyes at the mess. You had hoped someone like John Watson would live a neater life, but maybe that’s too much to ask when one has a flatmate such as Sherlock Holmes.

“Just through there,” John points you in the right direction.

After doing your business and freshening up in the mirror, you return to what is apparently the living area. You can only make that deduction because of the couch sitting against one wall with…a yellow smiley face spray painted above it. And upon closer inspection, you see the smiley face has bullets sprinkled through it.

Interesting. Sherlock must’ve been bored.

You plop down on the couch, surveying the rest of the room. You hear rustling in the kitchen, the clinking of glass. Sherlock is experimenting, judging by the sound – and by John’s grumbles about how crowded it is.

Leaned against one end of the couch you find a violin. John doesn’t seem like the type of man to play that instrument, so you assume it’s Sherlock’s. And for that reason, you decide to leave it alone.

Sherlock was correct about you playing guitar, but he never mentioned any other string instruments. You take that fact in with delight, knowing one day you’ll play his violin and see the surprise on his face – or anger. You haven’t decided yet if he looks like he’s territorial over his instrument. He probably is.

John returns to the living room with a cup of tea. Back at the café you were the only one who ordered a cup, the other two men seeming too preoccupied with figuring out who you were.

He’s still nervous. His hands are shaking, for Christ’s sake as he sits down on the other end of the couch. He offers a smile before sipping his tea, staring out at the room. But your eyes remain on him.

He reminds you of your mother – as strange as that may sound considering he has no relation to her. But you imagine she was around your father enough to pick up on some mannerisms, the same ones you are seeing in John.

“I know you want to ask questions,” you finally say, causing John’s eyes to return to yours. “So. Ask away.”

“I don’t want to make things awkward.”

“Well, you’re making it awkward by sitting there silently. So ask questions.” You sigh, turning and curling in on yourself against the arm of the couch. “I need something to do.”

“Okay, uh…” He shakes his head, sitting his tea down. “Why didn’t you take your— our father’s last name?”

“Why am I not a Watson?” You clarify. He nods. “My mother despised the name,” you reply simply, trying to ignore the faint look of hurt that crosses John’s face. “She despised your father and they never married, anyway. I was a bit of a…mistake, if you will.” She told you that more times than you can count.

He nods slowly. “So she raised you?”

“That is the logical explanation, isn’t it?” You smile. “Raised is a selective term. I lived with her, yes, but she hardly raised me.”

“Okay,” he swallows thickly. “So you…you never knew ou—him?”

You smile again, thankful that he changed his wording. “Nope. Is he still alive?” You don’t want to meet him, but you would rather like to know in advance if John wants to go off on his father for not telling him about you. From what your mom told you about him, he probably forgot you existed.

“No,” John shakes his head. “No, he uh…he passed away.”

“Oh.” You’re relieved, but that’s not the feeling John is showing, so you add, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It’s alright,” he replies, moving on. It must’ve been a while ago, then. “Is your mom still living?”

Now it is your turn to break the news. “No,” you say, a little forlornly. Your mother’s death does still tear you up inside, even if the relationship you two had was unconventional. “She passed away a few years ago.”

“And how long have you been…running?”

Running, ah, what Sherlock deduced earlier. He’s good, really. Most people don’t assume you’re anything but a regular tourist, visiting whatever town for a small vacation. “Since mom passed,” you look down at the floor. “I got into some trouble where we were, and with her no longer a police officer, she wasn’t there to help me out.”

“You got into trouble?” John asks, though he sounds more like he’s prying. He already has a hard-enough time managing Sherlock. He doesn’t know if he can handle looking after you – but he knows he will anyway.

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Fun times, really.”

He sounds a little hesitant to ask, but he does anyway, the new older brother protectiveness beginning to take over. “Do I get to know what this trouble was?”

“Let’s just say I composed a very…inappropriate song and blasted it over the intercom at an inappropriate place at an…equally inappropriate time.”

John looks like he wants to scold you, lecture you even, but decides against it. He shakes his head instead. “Two troublemakers. Exactly what I need.”

You smirk, wondering if he knows that Troublemaker is your nickname in many places. “Oh, come on, Sherlock can’t be that bad.”

John gives you a tired look. You remember the bullet ridden smiley face on the wall behind you and nod in defeat. Sherlock probably can be that bad, at times. At least when he gets bored.

“Alright, well,” you breathe, stretching out your legs to turn and face…your brother. That’s never going to not be weird. Best to just call him a friend for now. He is a friend, right? “What about you? You told me you were a doctor in the military.”

“I was,” he nods. “Got shot and sent home. I used to have a limp, but Sherlock…well, he tricked me out of it.”

“How on Earth did he do that?”

“I forgot my crutch when we were chasing down a taxi.”

“Oh. Makes sense,” you chuckle. Chasing down a taxi seems to be a normal activity here. “You work on cases with him then?” You pause. “I’ve heard a lot about you two. I almost didn’t come to London again because I figured Sherlock Holmes would be the first person on my ass if I did.”

“Do you get in that much trouble?”

You try not to grin. You’ve been here once before. For twenty-four hours. And by the end of it, you had an arrest warrant. It’s not your fault they didn’t put signs up that say you can scale a building and play guitar on the roof while you watch the sunrise. “I have a little bit of fun wherever I go, yes. I never stay put in one spot for long.”

“For that reason.”

“Exactly.” You smile now, glad he’s catching on. “But you run a blog, I’ve heard?”

“I do,” he nods. “Much to Sherlock’s displeasure.”

“He doesn’t like it?”

“He says he doesn’t need a public image.”

“I don’t,” Sherlock calls out from the kitchen.

You smirk, leaning forward a little. “Are you eavesdropping on our conversation, Sherlock Holmes?”

“It’s hardly eavesdropping if you’re both talking loud enough for me to hear.”

Fair enough. “Is he always that way?”

“What, arrogant? Yes,” John lets out a laugh.

“We all can be arrogant,” you try to reason with him. “But it does seem to be his default, doesn’t it?”

Yours is as well, you’ll admit. It’s something you got from your mother. She was always the arrogant, truth-seeking cop, never caring about fluff and only wanting the information that would benefit her most. The bluntness she had seemed to be born into you.

But your naturally emphatic heart has caused you to know when and when not to say certain things – a trait you see in John much more than you do in Sherlock.

In a way, meeting John has proved to be a blessing so far. You’re seeing things in him that you see in yourself that you originally had no idea where they came from but seeing him makes it all make sense.

You almost feel guilty that you won’t be staying long. But maybe you can stay longer than normal. It’s the least you can do.

The only obstacle is staying out of trouble, but you think that if you hang around these two, trouble isn’t going to be hard to find.

#sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #john watson #sibling!reader #half-sibling!reader #Trust #reader insert #sherlock fanfiction #this is only the beginning

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drunkdragondoes · 5 years

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Qrowin Prompt

@theresivy

According to my copy-paste notes, this is the prompt:

Ships: Qrowin, Iceberg, BlackSun, Rosegarden

5 Words: Vampire, Tease (sexual and fluff for qrowin and not sexual for the rest), Pets, Babysitting, Slow Burn

In hindsight, I realize that I got too focused on the vampire part (and I guess the smut lol) and forgot the rest. On the other hand, this sort of took on a whole monster of its own that I think you’ll like! But let me know how it is in the end.

---

Politics were, to put it nicely, weird. In a world where people were so different - scaled, multi-limbed, feathered, blood-drinking, lunar-phasing, water-breathing, or covered head to toe in fur - there were so many things to keep track of.

For example, livestock cows. When they came of age and it was time for the slaughter, they really had to make sure that all protocols are followed. First, blood is drained and kept in a separate storage for vampires, quickly frozen and transported because otherwise they coagulate, resulting in a poorer quality. But they couldn’t drain too much blood because then that ruined the meat quality and then not enough nutrients would be in it for the werewolves. Then the organs had to be separated by type so that other people with special dietary needs could all be satiated.

None of that was Qrow Branwen’s job. It was similar, but not the same. He was not in charge of making sure that all represented parties were satisfied on how a cow should be divided. He was not in charge of which persons gets preference in the carpool lane when the sun was almost setting. In fact, his main job was managing union certificates.

This was usually a far, far easier job. He just had to sign documents and check pedigrees to try and figure out what type of offspring they’d probably have. The last bit was what took the longest, but important because the government needed to be ready to help accommodate unusual living circumstances that might arise. After all, a werewolf and mermaid might not be too hard to support, but factor in that one of their kids might take after their great-great eldritch grandfather and it can get kinda difficult.

Genetics were weird. But no one cared because everyone was a little bit of everything. Hell, his grandmother’s grandmother from his mother’s side was the only human in their family line in the past four generations, and somehow he and his sister was just that - human.

But today was one of the more stressful times at his workplace. With the recent effects of the full moon (and not just any moon but the Spring Equinox moon, which drives many into a mating frenzy), there was a massive influx of both planned and spur-of-the-moment unions to sort through. And while he didn’t always handle the standard grunt work, the influx was also forcing him to do other tasks. For one, he had to handle witnesses and then also ensure that the union rites were fully legitimate. Then he had to check if the ones handling the rites were actually officials or if they were simply impromptu officiates. And finally he checked if the union was the monogamous, polyandrous, or if the unknown box was checked.

Any and all variations of any kind were accepted and legally binding, of course. It just that it was important to keep count.

“If we can keep count, then that means we can predict how to best chart our future.”

Annoying words from his boss. Very correct words, but very annoying words that were keeping him away from coming home at a decent hour. But it paid well and he had a good set of benefits, so there wasn’t much use in complaining.

His eyes turned to the last three on his desk.

Union File Y82J3Q: Ruby Rose and Oscar Pine

Union File U17L6R: Neptune Vasilias and Weiss Schnee

Union File B94T0Z: Blake Belladonna and Sun Wukong

It was awkward at first to see family members on the files, but by the time he had seen Raven’s union certificate he had long grown callous to it. Still, Qrow decided to skip to the third one and take care of that first. Officiators were Kali Belladonna, witness was Ilia Amitola, monogamous box was checked. Blake was from a long line of felines, while Sun’s pedigree was a little less known. Parents were part monkey, but that was the only instance of recurring traits in the last five generations. So if they had kids, there was a seventy-eight percent chance they were probably going to have cat ears or other cat bits.

Signed, stamped, done. He went to the first one next. His niece Ruby was a werewolf, so as expected the file was marked for monogamy. Oscar, on the other hand, was quite plain. Grew up on his selkie aunt’s oyster farm so he had to have some of that in him, but otherwise he was a bit like Qrow - a human among the mass of genetics behind him.

It was a little harder to predict what type of kids they’d have, but no matter the outcome they would probably like headpats. All in all, nothing unusual. Signed, stamped, done.

There was just one left, and he picked it up. As both Neptune and Weiss came from rich families, as expected their pedigrees were more detailed. Neptune had a mix of everything - merfolk, fae, moth, kirin, and surprisingly some siren in him. Weiss’ side, however, had a line that was predominantly from the nocturnae tree - humans that were more night-based. She had a string of grandparents that were at least some part vampire, including a full-blooded one. So given the genetics, their kids would probably be a vampire that liked swimming. Maybe.

What was most interesting was that the relationship was marked as polyandrous. As Qrow thought about it more, though, it made sense. Neptune’s siren influences meant that he might attract a partner on the side somewhere. And when he thought about it for even longer, he realized it shouldn’t have even been a question. Somewhere in the Schnee family history, someone had a union with a-

“Uh, Mr. Branwen?” a voice crackled through his desk phone. “Your wife is... well-”

Whoosh

“She’s probably in your office already.”

He supposed that this was to be expected. Stamped, signed, done. He put the three files into his completed section and closed his laptop. And when he looked up, there was Winter, leaning against his door. Her white hair was up in its usual bun, and she had donned what Qrow could only define as barely acceptable office attire. Across her hips was an all-black mini pencil skirt, along with matching stockings and heels. And for her top she had chosen a pure white button-up that was perhaps a size too small, pressing hard against her breasts. And this time there was something completely unusual upon her face - red, thin-rimmed glasses.

All purely cosmetic, of course. Winter had perfect vision, and she her job was nowhere near office-related at all. It wasn’t hard for him to figure out that she was impatient. Her tail, a thin long cord that ended in the shape of a spade, swished from side to side. Her leathery black wings may have been folded against her back, but fidgeted constantly, never staying still. And her arms were folded right above her stomach, pushing up her chest even more.

Besides, the Spring Equinox moon was still hanging in the evening sky. Winter Schnee might be a vampire, but like her sister she inherited the same qualities from that one ancestor long ago. Even if the pale light wasn’t hitting her directly, it was still accentuating the aspects.

Hell, even he could feel the moon’s pull. Those with human traits were often the least impacted by it, but add onto the fact that he was looking at list after list of people who were all fucking each other and it was a ball of frustration that only grew larger and larger. More than once did Qrow find himself staring into the distance, thinking about Winter in all of the wild ways they’ve had each other. And now that she was here-

Her eyes scanned the four walls, absorbing the lack of decorations before settling on him in his seat. “You know, I’ve always wanted to have sex in your office.”

Qrow leaned back in his chair with a deep breath before he pushed himself up and strode to her side. When she looked into his eyes, he moved into kiss her, reaching out and let his hands rest upon her shoulders before drifting low to her hips to pull her tight against him, against his hot and hardened flesh.

Right before she could pull him past the point of no return for the night, though, he pushed away. When he looked at her face, it was easy to see that this only fanned the flames within her.

It was exactly what he wanted. Winter arms wrapped around his shoulder as she leaned into his neck, lips parting to expose sharp, vampiric canines.

“Teasing your wife, a half-succubus? And on this moon?” She clicked her tongue. “For shame, Qrow.”

She bit down. The pain was momentary - repeated instances meant he had built up a tolerance to the sensation. But the way her tongue dragged across the shallow wound, licking and suckling away at his skin, that was always something else. It almost always drove him to madness, one that made him aware of every press of her body against him, of her hands dragging up and down his sides, of her loins pressed against his.

One of his hands squeezed her hips and she gave a soft, contented moan. “Trust me, Winter, the only thing that’s keeping me back is the sexual harassment policy we have. So let’s get out of here and-”

Her tail deftly coiled around his thigh. Her leather wings snapped around him and they were gone.

#rwby #qrowin #qrow branwen #winter schnee #rose garden #arctic ocean #blacksun #writing #fanfiction #prompt

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kokobussy · 6 years

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The New Guy Pt. 2 - Chen x Reader

summary: Even before Minseok came along, Jongdae’s always had a thing for you.

warnings: sub!chen, dom!reader, humiliation, pain kink, bdsm, some cock torture but not too hard so don’t let that scare you lol

word count: 6.9k

a/n: sorry it took a million years but here’s the sequel you guys wanted! I hope you like it! Link to Pt. 1 is here

Jongdae’s worked here for five years now. Unlike a lot of his peers, he didn’t have to intern in order to work for Tokki Corporation. Surprisingly enough his internet reputation got him the job more so than his official GPA. Back in his college days, Jongdae coded anything from website layouts to viruses, ranging in severity and design, just to keep his belly fed. Over time his popularity surpassed him within the coding community for doing just about anything for money. Sure it wasn’t always good, but he was struggling just like everyone else and had to find a way to make end’s meat. As graduation reared its ugly head, Jongdae realized that in the real world he wouldn’t be able to get by with popularity and occasional payments alone. Before he could even upload his application, he received an email from the Tokki Corporation asking for an interview. Their company had been under cyber attacks lately due to...a bunch of nonsense that he hadn’t really paid attention to honestly. From what he did gather it sounded like easy stuff, child’s play, and would probably only take a couple of hours to correct.

When Jongdae arrived at the corporation’s massive building, he had shakily reported that he was there for an interview. Being fresh out of college Jongdae only had ill-fitting slacks and a baggy button down from a local Good Will to wear. The secretary had eyed him incredulously, probably chalking him up to be another throw-away-hire, and made a quick phone call. His interview took place at the highest office in the building, overlooking what seemed like the entirety of Seoul judging by how high it was. A man sat behind a large glass desk, back facing the city as if it meant nothing, and looked over Jongdae’s printed out resume. Jongdae stood there like an idiot, looking around the office in awe and wondering if everyone’s office looked like this here. Despite the regality of said office, he couldn’t help but notice the small rabbits littered around. Rabbit plushies and figurines, ranging in size, littered around the book case and desk and even the guy’s writing utensils.The man, probably the interview, looked at him pointedly until Jongdae sat down in a smaller chair just in front of his desk, slightly looking up at the man.

The interview process was incredibly quick. Some general questions were asked, questions that Jongdae “uhh”-ed and “uhm”-ed through as he shook like a leaf in his seat, but the interviewer seemed to disregard them entirely. Finally the interviewer placed the resume down and truly looked at Jongdae for the first time since he came in and said,”I’m Junmyeon by the way and I’ve seen what you can do. We’ve been following you for a while now.” Now at that point Jongdae nearly shit himself. He’s not afraid to admit it. Why the fuck would this major company be watching him? Every conspiracy theory known to man flowed into his mind from the men in black to the Illuminati, but Junmyeon immediately debunked those. “I’m a fan of your work,” he said with a smile,”I’ve already made my decision. I’d like you to lead our IT team.” After that one interview, Jongdae had the job in the bag. So he came to this company straight out of college with an open mind and an eager heart, ready to take adulthood on by the horns. He made plenty of friends inside the company and outside, rented out a one bedroom, and even started his adult life.

Everything came a little too easily though. Jongdae did his job well and he was proud of that, but over time everything seemed to become dull. As he grew more experienced in his role, made friends at the company, and even seemingly conquered adult life and all its misfortunes, Jongdae grew bored. He got tired of the routine, tired of coming to the same sad basement every day, tired of the leaky coffee machine that - depending on its mood- would shock him, and especially tired of Oh Sehun calling the IT line to taunt him and immediately hang up before Jongdae could come up with a well thought out response. Sehun and Jongdae began officially working for the company around the same time, spending the first two weeks together during orientation in order to “bond” as a team despite them being in completely different departments. The two of them had been friends, genuinely, for a little while, but eventually they grew apart once they were sorted into their own departments. Jongdae remembers you very clearly from orientation, way too nice to be Sehun’s friend and laughing at all of Jongdae’s stupid jokes. He remembers you trying your hardest to keep the peace when things got too heated between him and Sehun. He remembers you, every bit of sweet and charming, looking at him like he was something special.

After orientation though, Jongdae hadn’t seen much of you. There was really no reason to. The two of you weren’t that close and he didn’t really have any reason to go to the upper levels of the building since he could just send any of his employees in his stead. You eventually slipped into the very corner of Jongdae’s mind, a hazy lustful memory that sometimes came up when he couldn’t sleep at night and needed to rub one out.

But, of course, one day it all changed.

One particular day after Jongdae got to work late, received a horrible sting from the terribly mean coffee machine, and spilled said coffee on his khakis, he got another stupid call from Sehun. It wasn’t so much as what Sehun said exactly, but more the fact that he almost never wants to deal with Sehun’s antics. These phone calls usually ranged from a dig at Jongdae’s fashion sense, even though Sehun hasn’t seen him in a while, to random silly names in a childish voice that grates his nerves and before Jongdae can think of a good response, Sehun hangs up accordingly. But Jongdae was already having a terrible day. So with all the anger and frustration he could muster, he headed upstairs to give the asshole a piece of his mind. When he finally got there 10 minutes later, after walking up and heaving over numerous flights of stairs due to maintenance on the main elevator (somehow the only elevator that went down to the basement), Jongdae rushed through the halls of Human Resources to figure out how exactly to handle this situation.

In his anger he didn’t think to simply call one of the managers or even shoot an email. Like an idiot, he rushed up here only to slowly realize that maybe this isn’t exactly the most professional approach. His furious stomps turn into timid steps as he grows more aware of his surroundings. Employees hustle their way back and forth from their desks, simply moving to the side to avoid Jongdae and his confusion to do their jobs. Jongdae begins feeling out of place as more and more people shoot glances his way, at his coffee stained khakis and flustered face. He’s completely out of his comfort zone, upstairs with the other departments that made this company, and it’s kind of getting to him.

The IT department is located in the very bowels of the building, far away from all the regular workers here, and the distinction is very noticeable. None of the other workers really even knew what the IT department did besides the basics like fixing computers or getting malware off of Wu Kris’ porn ridden desktop a little too often. The department itself was filled with nice enough people who didn’t really know how to socialize, much less fix their weird reputation of being “troll people”. Jongdae likes to think he’s different and loves proving these people wrong by showing how handsome, talented, and outgoing he is. While Jongdae had reasonable social skills, he did tend to get flustered easily in social situations. His social anxiety is something he constantly denies and struggles with, refusing to admit that he’s as awkward as his employees. Suddenly a familiar voice pulls him out of his reverie, nearly making him jump out of his slightly damp skin.

“Hey! Do you need help with something?”

There are offices all around him, the amount of people flowing in and out and about them confusing him all the more, but a soft “Over here!” guides him to a large office with an open wooden door. He sees a small streetview of the city in a small window before his eyes land on you. Your suit, buttons undone a little too low to be professional, your golden name plate, bold and starking on your desk, and your smile, just as sweet as he remembered.

“Jongdae?”

Before his mind can catch up with him, Jongdae manages a smile and a friendly, “Jesus, Y/N, is that you? I haven’t seen you in forever!”

As Jongdae steps into the room, doing his best to come off as casual and not at all as nervous as he feels, he’s met with the very last person he wants to see. Sehun turns around in his chair, widening his eyes in surprise, as he says,“Kim? What are you doing up here?”

God. Jongdae can’t tell if he’s actually asking or just being an asshole, but whatever Sehun’s doing, Jongdae has entirely thought out an eloquent ‘fuck you’ that’ll send Sehun reeling. Somehow despite the eloquent and well thought out ‘fuck you’ he planned, Jongdae can feel his face flushing more and more the longer the two of you stare at him. There’s an awkward pause which Jongdae can feel in the very pit of his stomach. He doesn’t know what to say. He genuinely wasn’t expecting you to be one of the main managers now and he certainly wasn’t expecting Sehun, of all people, to be a part of the HR department.

With this sudden change, Jongdae feels his heart race, his skin prickle with nerves he didn’t realize were there. Your eyes, darker than he remembers, roll over his form and take him in for what he is. A nervous idiot who apparently doesn’t know how to talk to people. When your gaze moves to Sehun, you lightly smack his arm and nod at the door before saying,”I’ll see you later for lunch.”

Sehun’s eyes widen slightly, looking between you and Jongdae before landing on you once again, and he pouts,”Nooo! don’t make me leave. Look at his chinos. Let me have this.”

For some reason, despite his nerves, Jongdae feels the need to interject,“They’re khakis.”

“You would think that.”

You lightly smack Sehun again and nod at the door,”Goodbye, Sehunnie.” He leaves without further prodding, but not before snorting at Jongdae’s general direction and closing the door behind him. The two of you are left there, alone in your office, with the hum of afternoon traffic filtering in from outside.

“You can sit down, Jongdae.”

Your voice is more comforting than he remembers, something about it almost immediately calming the pressure building up in his body, the need to climb out of his own skin. Jongdae sinks into the very seat that Sehun previously occupied, resting against the arm chair and spreading his legs slightly. The attempt to look bigger than he really is isn’t lost on you, but you let him get comfortable without protest.

You’ve been working in HR for a few years now and have finally become one of the managers in your department. You worked very hard to get to where you are and you’re incredibly proud of yourself. A major part of your job is ensuring that everyone is comfortable in their workspace. The reason why you’re so good at your job is because of how observant you are as well as your ability to calm people down. There’s a heady lavender scent filling the walls of your office, a thick smell that lulls Jongdae’s senses. You have little knick knacks and pictures littered around the space to make your office appear more like a casual place than what it actually was. Here in the middle of everything is Jongdae, an old friend from orientation.

Jongdae sparks up small talk, trying desperately to get the attention off of him and onto something else, as he looks around the room. You entertain him, of course, and occasionally glance at the way he picks at an escaped thread on your arm chair. He’s more handsome than you remember, blonde tresses contrasting nicely with his skin.

When the two of you were new hires, you’d been attracted to Jongdae. You laughed at his jokes, went out of your way to hang out with him, and even met up with him a few times outside of work, but either he was incredibly oblivious or simply wasn’t interested. Eventually you gave up your pursuit and instead focused on work, burying yourself in your workload and sure enough coming out on top. The two of you move from small talk to actual topics of conversation to internet communities. Jongdae had entirely forgotten why he was so attracted to you aside from your figure. Your sense of humor is infectious and probably the weirdest he’s ever seen. The two of you are involved in a lot of the same online communities, Jongdae’s being a little more extreme and exclusive than yours.

So when the topic of memes came up, all of the awkwardness and tension completely dissolved. You both laughed, showing each other memes uglier and more obscure than the last, and soon time began to pass without the two of you really noticing. Soon there’s a knock on your door, signaling the actual work that needed to be done and the reason why the two of you were in the first place. As Jongdae stands up, apologizing profusely for distracting you and exchanging usernames so he could add you later on Reddit, you notice the stain on his khakis. “Oh right. what happened anyway?” you ask, eyes not really leaving his crotch.

He follows your gaze to his khakis - chinos - and huffs,”Fuck, I almost forgot. Long story short, the coffee pot downstairs fucking sucks and we need to buy another one.” As you nod along to his explanation, you stand from your desk and make your way towards another chair in the corner of your office. Now that Jongdae can see you, really see you, he almost pops a chub right there in his fucking khakis. Chinos. Whatever. Your buttoned shirt neatly tucks into slacks that hug your frame nicely, shaping your figure into something thicker and sexier than Jongdae previously remembers. Your legs, God your legs, go on for miles and miles before they’re met with those tall black heels that bring the entire look together. Weak at the knees, Jongdae can’t help but stare at your curvaceous figure, a familiar feeling stirring in the very pit of his stomach.

You blatantly and unabashedly bend down to grab something out of your purse, pretending to dig around as the Tide To Go pen remains in your hand. After a tension fills the room, varying from the one earlier, you stand up fully and make your way over to Jongdae. You smirk as you catch the very last second of Jongdae’s gaze moving from your ass to your face before holding out the small pen. “Here,” you say as you stare down at the stain,”it’ll get just about anything off.” The two of you stare at each other for a time, not really saying a word as a mutual understanding begins to form. Jongdae takes the pen out of your hand, his own confidence beginning to fade once your professional front fades and turns into something he’s never seen before. Your eyes seem darker as they take him in now, consuming every inch of him as they roam. He loves it though, loves the attention he’s getting from you, loves that your eyes are on him and him only. There’s another insistent knock before the door opens altogether, a frustrated and huffy Sehun appearing in the doorway. “I swear to God, Y/N, if I don’t get noodles immediately I will die.”

After being reunited once again, there are a series of convenient run-ins that you knew for a fact were planned. How did you know? Because you’re the only planning said run-ins, having Sehun make a phone call to Jongdae every single time a computer so much as froze. On the days that Jongdae needed to be called, you made sure to wear your best outfits, to smile especially bright when he looked absolutely exasperated as Sehun pestered him as he worked on Baekhun’s computer, and to make sure that he had the perfect view of you walking away. When Jongdae made trips upstairs to fix computers that 9 times out of 10 weren’t actually broken, he’d see glimpses of your form walking amongst the halls or overhear your voice not too far away. No matter where he is, you’re somehow always close by.

Soon Sehun’s daily annoying calls turn into sort of productive ones. He somehow keeps having computer trouble and specifically asks for Jongdae himself each and every time. At the possibility of seeing you and the threat of a single and possibly fatal phone call to Junmyeon, who would do anything for that annoying twink, Jongdae has to come each and every time. Each and every time Jongdae goes, the “issues” that Sehun has are almost always an easy fix: turning the computer off and on again when it froze, stop downloading malware from weird websites so the computer won’t freeze, stop going on weird websites, stop playing dress up Barbie games on said weird websites, reducing the zoom from 150% to 75%, or simply plugging the desktop into the outlet. With each trip you and Jongdae got closer and closer. From saying a polite hello in the hallways as the two of you passed each other to awkward yet eager small talk to inside jokes and texting. Jongdae, ever determined, returned every hello, talked about the weather for as long as he could, and replied to each and every text in a timely manner. He’d do anything to make you smile, anything to see your ass in slacks and A-lines as you walk away with that sashay in your hips he loves so fucking much.

During this last trip where Sehun literally jammed a Wham! CD into the disk tray of his desktop, the fucker isn’t even there. When Jongdae arrives at his desk, exasperated and tired, he sees you, conveniently leaning against Sehun’s desk and scrolling through your phone. Or at least pretending to. Jongdae walks to the desk, trying and failing to come up with some sort of tsundere vibe that would impress you. All he manages is a squeaky and pathetic,”H-hey.” You already know he’s there, could already feel the tension in his shoulders from a mile away, but smile up at him in surprise anyway.

“Hey! So Sehun had to run out for a second-”

But at the mention of Sehun and his general headassery, the nervousness fades into annoyance.

“He went out for his ‘second’ lunch didn’t he?”

“-....okay, yeah. He should be back by now.”

“He won’t be back for the rest of the day.”

“How do you know?”

“Because it’s Sehun.”

After ripping the CD out of the desktop’s tray, Jongdae takes the time to look at you, really look at you, while you’re rambling about something that happened in the office today. He thinks about how months ago he had absolutely no idea who you really were. You were just an acquaintance, a faded memory for his occasional spank bank, but in the time he’s come to know you, he sees you’re much more than that. The two of you are friends, genuinely friends, and it’s something that Jongdae is incredibly grateful for. Of course he still finds you attractive, but as the two of you got closer, Jongdae realizes that he isn’t just interested in your cup size or the shape of your ass in those yoga pants you wear every single time he comes over for a Futurama marathon. While you go on and on about how Kris made a pass at you, the HR manager, Jongdae makes a reference to the sloth meme that’s been your joke for the past few days just to make you laugh. Of course you laugh, letting out the cutest and ugliest snort he’s ever heard, and that’s when he realizes it. He cares about you. Like, actually cares about you. Some time between hanging back at the office until either of you were done to get drinks after work and him teaching you how to play Magic the Gathering with old friends, he’d developed real actual feelings.

It’s a weird feeling, a weird thing to realize while you’re ugly laughing so loud that most of your office is looking at the two of you, but he kinda likes it. Kinda likes that he likes you. Maybe things weren’t so boring after all. That day Jongdae knew he had to ask you out, but just couldn’t figure out when. He had plenty of opportunities to, but he just couldn’t manage. Any time the two of you texted each other late at night or when you find solace in his coat while the two of you brave the harsh winter weather during your lunch break, or even during sorta cuddling but not really sessions while the two of you watched Firefly, Jongdae had the chance to ask you out but he was never brave enough to. He simply couldn’t gather the courage to do it.

It happens around Christmas Eve. The two of you were the only ones left in the building, save for some Janitorial staff who would also be gone soon, finishing up work that needed to be done before the New Year. With nowhere to go, the two of you decided to spend Christmas together with large cups of egg nog and a back and forth of tragic backstories that revealed the reason why you weren’t spending time with your families. When he walks into your office, Jongdae sees a mostly empty space that’s lost all remnants of you. All that’s left is the desk, a bookshelf, and one of your old chairs. All of the knick knacks and books are gone now, the fading scent of lavender being the only remaining remnant of your time there. You’re sitting in the middle of everything, working hard at your desk, as if none of your things are gone. Jongdae’s mind races to a variety of situations, most pertaining to you leaving and never coming back, so he asks,“Are you leaving?” Even though he doesn’t know the answer to this question, his heart aches something fierce. The idea of you leaving, even if he can just see you outside of work, is upsetting and so devastating that he might truly be upset by it.

You shake your head, finishing up what’s left of the possible report you’re typing, and say,”No. Just moving to the other side of the office. I’m gonna have a temporary cubicle with Sehun. Can you shut that door?” While he’s happy that you’re not leaving, his initial reaction to the possibility reveals feelings that are truly undeniable. Somewhere, in all of this, Jongdae suddenly finds a courage that hasn’t been there for most of the day. The two of you are alone in this god forsaken building at night with no Sehun or other colleagues to intervene. It’s here that Jongdae decides maybe, just maybe, this is the time to confess how he feels. To lay everything out on the table bare for you to see. As the soft click of the closing door echoes throughout the office and you get up briefly to grab your things, everything seems to finalize in that moment. He works up the courage to ask you out, thinking of all the ways you could easily reject him with a pitiful look in your eyes, but he wants to at least try. Just so he’s not left with a heartbreaking “what if” for the rest of his life. Jongdae’s eyes look away as he resigns himself to his fate and says,

”Honestly, Y/N, I’ve liked you for a while. Of course I appreciate our friendship and I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I was wondering if we could go out some time? We could get dinner or something - I mean I know we do that a lot, but I’ll take you somewhere nice and we can just-”

“Jongdae.”

“-dress up or something. But no pressure seriously! It’s fine I get if you’re not into me. Okay you’re not answering me or giving me any sort of tell so maybe I got the wrong idea. We can just forget all of this and move on. I just-”

“Jongdae.”

“-really hope we can still be friends. We can just go back to normal it’s no big deal. Fuck fuck I shouldn’t have said anything now it’s all awkward.”

“Jongdae!”

Jongdae looks up just in time to see your familiar black dress pool on the floor, your black heels kicking the offending fabric away. His eyes wander from your heels to the expanse of your legs, covered in black stockings, to the straps of your garter belt, barely holding onto the thickness of your thighs, to your lacy thong, up the expanse of your stomach, to your matching bra, and finally to your smirk. Your red lipstick, contrasting deliciously against the rest of your ensemble, makes Jongdae almost fucking lose it. Almost. He can’t pretend anymore or brush off your advances and claim it’s all in his head.

He’s here now with you, staring at the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and popping the biggest chub he’s ever had. You reach out for him, grabbing his limp hand and pulling him towards you, and place his hands on your hips. They tighten instantly, the lace bunching up slightly under his hands. Your smirk widens as you take in Jongdae’s shock, the absolute disbelief in his eyes, and you use that to push him down to the floor until he’s kneeling. Jongdae goes willingly, kneeling down immediately, and looks up at you with all the admiration in the world. You run your fingers through his hair and say,“Merry Christmas, Jongdae.”

Jongdae maintains eye contact with you as he lifts up your leg, leaning briefly to kiss your ankle and places the long limb over his shoulder. He stares at your lace covered center, nearly tasting the heat there, and whispers a soft and unbelievable,”Merry Christmas.”

Now, Jongdae hasn’t eaten pussy in a long time. Not since one of his ex girlfriends told him he was absolute shit at it. No matter how much he tried, she’d never fail to put him down and refused to tell him how to improve in any way. She was a bitch anyway, but it always left an impression on him. There’s something about your gaze though, as you look down at him, that makes him squirm with a feeling of complete and total helplessness. As your eyes watch him kiss at your thighs and generally put off what he could only assume is the main event, Jongdae feels a sense of guidance. A sort of safety net that ensures him that you’ll be there to put him back in line if he messes up. That you’ll tell him exactly what he needs to do and how he needs to do it. For some reason there’s a lot of comfort in that fact, comfort that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

There’s a sharp pain in his back that makes him wince. He arches away from it, only for the sharp to grow harsher as it twists. The firmness of it helps him realize that it’s the very edge of your heel digging into his back. “Don’t tease me,” you warn. It’s not a statement or a suggestion. It’s a command, a rule that leaves no space for breaking. So he leans in tentatively and gives little kitten licks, eyes closing as he focuses all his attention on you. You don’t moan or arch your back right away, but you do run your fingers through his blonde tresses again. He can feel your eyes on him, watching him as his licks get bolder and longer against your core. But Jongdae starts getting insecure, starts shrinking away and thinking that maybe he should just end this before it all goes to hell, but you pull him back by his hair to cup his cheek. “It’s okay, baby boy,” you smile, a complete 180 from before.

With renewed confidence, the IT manager gives it one more try. He gives you short kitten licks, nibbling and mouthing at your folds when he gets a little more comfortable. Jongdae’s licks make their way to your clit, honing in when you moan for the first time since you two started this whole thing. From what he can tell, your moans are precious and only delved out when he’s doing a good enough job to pleasure you. So he eagerly continues, trying all types of tricks with his tongue to pull more moans out of you. A handful of them work pretty well so Jongdae performs them again and again in different ways with the same level of incredible excitement. You end up riding his face anyway, grinding against his tongue with a fervor that he can barely keep up with. Your body begins shuddering from the sensations as you cum once and then twice on his tongue. Jongdae, always willing to prove himself, licks up your orgasm and lets out a moan of his own. He sucks at your clit now, letting it go to roll his tongue over the swollen nub, and starts palming himself in his slacks. He never thought he’d be doing this. Never thought he could be eating you out on your desk and getting off to it, getting off on all of it. Just when a hot pressure builds in his tummy, tight and sweet, the very tip of your heel digs into his back again. “Don’t you fucking cum, you pervert.”

The pain alone is enough to push Jongdae over the edge, but he somehow manages to get himself together. He lets go of the tent in his slacks and looks at you, waiting for your next move. You remove your leg from his shoulder with a little bit of help and lean against your desk again with your legs spread and Jongdae helplessly in between them. You cup his cheek briefly, letting a manicured finger brush his lower lip and ask, “Are you being a good boy, Jongdae?”

Now Jongdae’s never really been into bdsm or kink or anything weird like that. He’s never considered anything passed the occasional visit of pink fluffy handcuffs on especially exciting days or spanking. He hasn’t been that kind of guy or at least he never thought he would be. Until now. You towering over him and making him feel small and weak, pathetic even, is the most sexual excitement he’s had in a long time. So now as you hover a heel over the tent in his slacks and frown down at him, Jongdae can’t help but shudder at your appearance as you demand an answer. “Y-yes,” is all he says,”I’m being a good boy.” But that isn’t the right answer. Your heel makes contact with his cock, firm enough to give pleasure but light enough where Jongdae can say it’s too much and push away. He wants to do anything but that. When he doesn’t relent or get up to leave, you press your heel down harder with a lot less room than before. Jongdae cries out, shuddering and closing his eyes tight as he goes. The wet patch forming on his grey slacks where your heel used to be is the only tell of what happened without your permission. His cheeks redden with guilt as a flush slowly makes its way from his face to his neck. The guilt and shame is overwhelming. After dreaming about this moment for months, about seeing you like this and doing anything sexually, how could he fuck up this bad? How could he cum in his pants from that?

You grab him by his hair and pull tight tight tight and Jongdae can only brace himself on your thighs as he gathers his bearings. He feels so sloppy, mussed up hair and tie in a disarray, and dirty, face still covered in your orgasm and softening cock encased in cum stained boxers. Although you’re furious with him, clearly more disappointed than Jongdae is, in the tightness of your hold his cock twitches and bobs for more. He needs more, absolutely needs to see how far the two of you can go with whatever this is, but it won’t happen unless you’re on board too. “You’re a naughty boy, Jongdae. Maybe I should just head home alone if you’re not gonna take this seriously.” Fuck. Jongdae desperately wants to fix this, desperately wants to make you proud of him again, but he just doesn’t know how. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I want it,” he tries as he looks into your slowly approving eyes,”I wanna be a good boy.” You like that answer enough to let him go, but you’re still very disappointed. You release your grip from his hair and take the time to look over your manicured nails and ignore Jongdae entirely. He takes your threat very seriously, your disinterest making it clear that he still has a chance of changing your mind.

“Please, Y/N, please-”

“Mistress.”

“What?”

You don’t repeat yourself and Jongdae’s left trying to figure out what it means in his post orgasmic haze. Then it clicks. “Mistress, please. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

“Top shelf, towards the back.” Jongdae scrambles, genuinely scrambles, over to your bookshelf towards the door to grab a small foil from the very back of the top shelf. Just how long were you planning this? He tears the small package with his teeth and rolls the lubricated condom onto his cock. When he turns around to face you once again, you’re bent over your desk and looking over your shoulder. Jongdae stares at you for a time, wondering how on earth he got so damn lucky. He’s not quick enough, not taking advantage of this beautiful opportunity, because you say,“If you don’t make me cum, I’ll find someone who will.” Before he realizes it, his legs are moving on their own. Jongdae pulls down your thong, groaning when he has to use a little more force to get it passed your thighs, and pumps at his cock. You wiggle your ass just enough to get him going, but stop when he begins to line up his cock.

The mushroom head presses against your entrance, slowly but surely pushing until Jongdae is entirely sheathed. He’s not huge, but you can still feel him pulsing away. You’re full enough and that’s what matters. Jongdae slowly thrusts, getting used to the tight hot heat, and trying desperately not to cum so soon. He’s only had his hand for the passed few months and no matter how good his hand is, nothing compares to the real thing. You’re impatient though and don’t really care what’s going on with Jongdae. It’s not that you want him to fuck up again, but that’s exactly what you want. The opportunity to punish him, to further humiliate him, is something that you look forward to. There’s no way you’re letting him go after tonight, absolutely no way.

You reach behind you and pinch his thigh, giggling at the unabashed resulting moan he lets out. “Pain slut,” you coo as his hips stutter. The pinch works. Jongdae’s hips move faster and deeper, a concentration going as he focuses on making you feel good. You hold onto your desk and rock your hips to meet his, moaning aloud as Jongdae focuses all of his attention on you. His cock rubs against your walls, slipping out briefly due to his excitement before finding its way back inside of you with a helpful hand. This pace continues, growing more and more brutal as your moans grow louder and uncontrolled. Jongdae moans along with you, at the very feeling of you clamping down on his cock as you cum for the first time. He chases that feeling, angling his hips to hit your g-spot on every single thrust. Your moans ring throughout the office now, along with the sound of skin slapping skin. While you love that Jongdae’s absolutely rocking your world, you want to have even more fun. You bring your hand back once more to pinch and twist Jongdae’s thigh. His hips stutter again as he hisses and cries out, but continues regardless of the newfound pleasurable pain.

“Mistress,” he pants,”I can’t...I can’t do it. Please let me cum.” You’ve got him right where you want him. You smirk as you rock your hips against him and say,”I don’t know, baby. I haven’t cum yet.” Jongdae whines because he knows you’re lying. He’s felt you cum a few times already, your heat gripping his cock viciously while your body jerked and cried out, but now you’re lying.

In the heat of it all, you manage to push Jongdae away from you slightly so that you can sit up without being connected to him. You turn around to face him before sitting on the edge of the desk once again and spreading your legs. You take the time to look at him, really look at him, and smile with something like adoration as you take in his flushed form. Jongdae stands there, unsure but willing, as he looks at you in return. His hand finds his cock, swollen with need, but refuses to stroke as if he’s afraid of disobeying you. Even though he’s only just got into kink and bdsm and the like, he’s surprisingly obedient. “Do you wanna make Mistress feel good?”

Jongdae nods feverently, refusing to move neither his hand nor himself, and waits calmly for you to call him over. You stare at him for a time as his resolve cracks and breaks, whining and pleading tumbling from his swollen lips, “Please, Mistress, please. I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything you want.” In that moment, with his eyes tearing and voice watering, Jongdae is capable of doing just about anything to get what he wants. But it’s Christmas and this weird holiday confession turned into something Jongdae wasn’t at all expecting. So you motion him over, call him a good boy as he slides back into you, and run a hand through his hair as his hips start again. Giving him what he wants does nothing to calm the whines down, Jongdae’s whines get louder if anything as he nears his release. The noises he makes is enough to make you cum again as the need to take care of Jongdae fills you. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you promise, moaning yourself when he brushes against that special spot inside you again,”You’re such a good boy right? Always a good boy.” “A-always a good boy,” he whimpers back at you,”I wanna be your good boy.”

While the feeling of Jongdae grinding against you is enough to make you cum a thousand times over, it’s time to end all of this. You don’t want him dropping in your old office without even really knowing what dropping is. “Cum, baby.” The hand in his hair, the nurturing voice, the wet friction of your pussy sucking him in, it’s too much. With another “good boy” kissed into his mouth, Jongdae cums in the condom. Cums for the second time that night and the hardest time in his entire life.

Aftercare is had on Christmas at your loft downtown after a 15 minute taxi drive. Jongdae is held and cherished and asked questions about what he liked and didn’t like about the night. He liked everything, loved everything, and insisted that the two of you do it again as soon as possible. You promise him a nice date on the day after Christmas with steamed buns. For now, Jongdae is fine with Futurama marathons on Christmas with stew and beer. Jongdae relishes this promise and all of the warm things to come while spooning you especially close that night.

But little does he know that none of these things would come to pass. You wouldn’t get to go on that date you promised. The two of you wouldn’t talk for a time. Sehun’s phone calls would stop coming in abruptly and soon you would be barely around for Jongdae to talk to. The next time Jongdae would see you, truly see you, was when you were with an old friend of his who just started working at the office.

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chainsawbettyloo · 7 years

Photo

Title: Pink Glove

Pairing: SidLink | Rating: Everyone | Written from prompt above!

Tags: AU - Modern Setting, AU - College, Confessions, Love Confessions, Kissing, First Time Kiss, Fluff

Summary: The night started out as a ghost hunting adventure, and ended at a gas station, chugging down sugary, caffeinated garbage. Link's happy enough to just be spending some quality time with Sidon but when he gets a text from Zelda, who insists he tells Sidon how he feels or she'll do it for him, the night is about to take a turn for the surprising...and better

Cross posted on my AO3!, Prompt requests are still open, btw!

The pink glove lay on the ground, almost completely covered by dust. Link briefly glanced at it, wondered how it got there then immediately lost interest. Probably belonged to part of a pair of horny teens who thought an abandoned hotel was the sexiest place to swap DNA. Swinging his flashlight upwards towards the ceiling, he took in the cracks, cobwebs, and sighed heavily. A puff of white steam swirled around his face as he exhaled. This was probably the least adventurous adventure he had ever been forced to go on. Well, forced was probably too strong a word: manipulated was probably better.

Come hunt ghosts at a creepy abandoned hotel where like, five people totally died for realsies, and a bunch of people had reported “activity”. He had absolutely no idea what that meant, but the whole thing was just intriguing enough to get him interested enough to actually accompany his friends along this ghost hunting outing. Not that he had expected anything to happen (but, admittedly, a tad bit hopeful), and, not surprisingly, absolutely squat had. There were a few times when Riju, Yunobo and Mipha had sworn up and down that they had seen something or heard something but as for him, there were no paranormal experiences. He was pretty sure everything those other three had, supposedly, seen / heard was because they wanted something to happen.

Go into a creepy hotel at night expecting ghosts and you’re gonna get ghosts. Simple as simple gets. Pretty much, his entire night had been entirely wasted. He could have been at home, cocooned in a mass of blankets on his coach, warm as a bug in a rug, with a video game or movie, and a big bowl of something incredibly unhealthy but nooooo, he let Riju talk him into fucking ghost hunting. Well, least this was something he’d be able to say he did: ‘oh yeah, I went ghost hunting once - oh, nah, lol, it was a total bust. Don’t know what the fuss was all about’. Also, well, there was another reason that made this cold, miserable night pretty alright.

Turning, he raised his flashlight to chest level as Sidon walked in from behind him. Now there was the real reason he had decided to tag along. Sure, the ghosts were cool and all that, but a chance to spend time with Sidon was totally worth it. Course, they already spent a shit ton of time together but he was always up for that being extended indefinitely. Even luckier for him, they had been paired up in a buddy team to explore the upper floors. He had even scored a hand holding moment when Sidon led him to a room where there was some rustling, which wound up being just a raccoon. That alone made this pretty much the best night ever.

“Find anything?” Sidon asked, turning his flashlight towards Link. In the dim light, he could see he was smiling faintly. Golden eyes twinkled with mischievousness underneath a thick shock of vibrant red hair.

Smiling in return, his heart fluttering a bit more than it probably should, he replied, “Nothing of note. You?”

“There’s a nest of rats in the other room. That’s about it.”

“I hope we don’t get sick from being in here.” Link commented, sliding the concentrated beam of light around, looking for hints of black mold or other toxic filth.

“We should be fine. Though, being in all this dust probably isn’t good for us.”

They both fell silent, glancing around, taking in their surroundings then Link casually asked, trying very hard to sound like he didn’t care what the answer was going to be but really hoping it would be in the positive, “You wanna ditch and go get some drinks from the gas station?”

“Uh, yeah, that sounds good.” Sidon replied back just as casually. “Definitely down for that. This was fun at first but honestly getting a little bit bored. Plus, I’ve banged my knees on so much random fucking shit. Getting really tired of that.”

Link laughed sympathetically, “Yeah, I feel you. I’m gonna have bruises all over tomorrow. Lets ditch this dust trap.”

“Right behind you.”

“You’re in front of me, though.” Link teased, pointing the flashlight beam at the doorway.

Sidon turned, saw that he was then chuckled, “You are correct. Then,” he turned back to Link, held out a large hand and flashed a smile that was so lumniscent that Link could clearly see it in the dim light, “allow me to lead you to non-dustdom, where you no longer have to fear assault on your knees and toes.”

“Then, I shall trust the wellbeing of my shins, knees, toes and elbows to you, kind prince.” Link dramatically responded, his cheeks and the tips of his ears tingling with heat. God, he could be so goddamn charming. No, that was incorrect. He was always goddamn charming - there was never a moment when he wasn’t charming. Charming was basically his default state. Even when he was being an annoying shit, he was charming. Sweeping forward with profound, exaggerated grace, he slipped his hand into Sidon’s and let himself be lead out of the dark, musty room. Sidon’s hand was warm, a little rough, and his hand fit perfectly into it. Mental note: find more opportunities to hold hands. It would be difficult, but so totally worth it. They wove through the dark hallways, nimbly darting around various debris, and made it outside far quicker than they had gotten up to the third floor.

Pulling in a deep breath of cold, crisp, clean air into his cobwebbed lungs, Link let it out as a happy sigh. Okay, yeah, he was discovering that he truly did not like wandering around an old, moldy, dark building. Probably was not going to be doing that again in the immediate future...unless Sidon was going to be there, then yeah, he’d go without a second thought. Though, considering Sidon looked much the same as he did - relieved to be out of that dankness - he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be agreeing to anything similar either. Only way he could see them agreeing was if Riju invited them out for ghost hunting at the mall or Food Lion.

On the second floor, he could see a hint of flashlights belonging to the other groups. He briefly considered texting Zelda, but decided against it. If he did, she’d probably want in on going to the gas station since she was probably just as bored with this play of boringness and nothingness, then everyone else would most likely follow. No doubt, it would be fun, and it was probably more than a little selfish of him but right now, he wanted more time with Sidon. Zelda would understand, hopefully, maybe. Anyway, when she figured out a group was missing, he’d get a text, explain himself and promise to buy her a hot chocolate as an apology. That should be enough to get him off the hook.

Still holding onto Sidon’s hand, Link took the lead this time. Above, the moon was bright enough to light their way. Plus, he knew this side of town - cleaned the whole area for a summer as part of his probation for punching a dude in the face. Charges were absolutely shit - it had been self defense but the judge went hard on him because of his asshole father, who had more DUIs than brain cells - but he had, admittedly, enjoyed the punishment. Guys he worked with were excellent, gave him a lot of perspective on things, it was nice to be out of the house during summer break, doing some good, cleaning up the prettier areas of his industrial little town, and really, could have been worse.

Much worse since the judge originally wanted to send him to juvie. Counselor at his high school talked him out of it. Not really sure how she managed it, since that judge was an arrogant old dude who obviously thought the only way to straighten out the “rowdy young”, as he liked to refer to Link, was to scare them shitless, regardless of consequence. Missus Hye came to his rescue, got him probation time to be spent doing community service, and the subject was dropped. Judge had ended the “trial” with a stern warning to Link: get your act together and you might just be Food Lion’s employee of the month at some point.

Joke was on him, though. Four years after the fact, he was a double major junior in the local college, consistently boasted a GPA higher than a 3.5, somehow managed to support himself on two part-time jobs and without a single penny from his parents, and had an advisor who would tear down walls if it meant getting him a job straight out of college. Not to mention, he had an awesome group of friends, amazing teachers and, despite life being fucking hard most of the time, he was enjoying himself immensely. So, basically, fuck that judge. If he ever saw him again, he was going to give him the double bird.

“You okay, Link?” Sidon’s voice floated in from somewhere overtop him, wrenching him back to the present.

“Huh? Oh yeah, just thinking. Sorry.” Link laughed embarrassedly, scratching the back of his head.

“About what?”

“Just how some piece of shit basically told me to my face that I’d never amount to anything and how I’d rub everything I’ve managed to do in his face if I saw him again.”

“If you ever do, let me know. I’ll hold him down while you shove it down his throat.”

Link flashed a thumbs up, “Of course. We’ll get Zelda involved to. She can film the entire thing.”

“You’d probably have to hold her back from doing it yourself.”

He laughed at that then nodded in agreement, “Yeah, you’re right. We’ll have to invite Mipha too. Zelda can film, Mipha can restrain her.”

“Sounds like a good time, over all.”

“Oh yeah, one for the scrapbooks.”

They both chuckled then fell silent as they closed in on the gas station. Only one in town open 24 hours, and he actually wasn’t too certain as to why. They were downtown, away from the hustle and bustle of the bars, mall, and stores. Most of the stuff around here was industrial buildings, so maybe the workers there stopped by? That was the only thing he could figure. Not that he really cared. It was open, he was thirsty so everything worked out just fine. There were no cars at the pumps, no one idling about, the whole place looked to be deserted. For a moment, he was nervous that he had been mistaken but when they got to the front, he peeked in to see an exhausted looking woman sitting behind the counter, slowly flipping through a magazine. Tugging open the door, a tingling sound ding a linging from above him, he held it open for Sidon to step through then stepped in behind him.

Inside was a gas station. Nothing really spectacular about it. Smelled faintly of bleach, floor was a bit dirty, illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights, it was standard and unextraordinary. Shooting the tired clerk a smile, and not bothered at all when she didn’t return it, Link followed Sidon over to the fridge section, where sugary drink after sugary drink were lined up. Without any hesitation, Sidon picked a cold brewed coffee. Link considered getting the same then, ultimately, picked out an energy drink he really shouldn’t be drinking this late at night but was going to anyway.

“Do you want a snack?” Sidon asked, eyeing the chip aisle.

He would, but the drink was probably all he could afford right now. Shaking his head with a smile, he quickly scurried over to the counter so he could pay before Sidon could offer. Zelda always told him that there was nothing wrong with letting others pay for things. Didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t stand it, and would actively try to avoid it as best he could. He had to take handouts in a lot of different areas so he’d prefer to keep his pride intact in some places.

Without a word, the clerk rang him out, then returned to her magazine. Floating over the door, he popped open his drink, took a huge swig, eyes falling closed in relief as the cold, smooth liquid slid down his parched throat. Future him would probably regret present him’s actions but that was future him’s problem, not his. Gasping hard as he pulled the can away, he wiped access liquid from his top lip and watched as the clerk checked Sidon out. He had grabbed a couple snacks, two small bags of chips, a packet of cookies and a candy bar.

“Do you need a bag?” The clerk asked, sounding like she was going to fall asleep at any moment.

“No, thank you.” Sidon replied, gathering up his items. “Have a nice night.”

The clerk hummed distractedly in response, eyes already back on her magazine. Joining Link over by the door, he flashed a grin, jerked his head to the great big outside, and asked, “Back to the hotel or take momentary possession of the curb?”

“Curb.” He replied, returning the grin. Leaning over, he addressed the clerk, “Is it alright if we sit outside?”

“No smoking. Don’t be loud. If someone complains, you’ll need to leave. Other than that, feel free.” She flipped a page, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and sighed.

“Thank you.” Holding the door open for Sidon once more, he followed after into the cold night, shivering slightly as the warmth of the inside was shooed away. Walking over to the far edge of the slight elevation surrounding the front of the gas station, he plopped down, took another long sip of his drink then jumped in surprise when Sidon dropped one of the bags of chips and the packet of cookies into his lap. Looking up at him in surprise as he sat down beside him, his only response was a big smile.

Frowning, he said, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I don’t have to do anything.” Sidon said, ripping off the plastic ring around the top of the glass bottle. Unscrewing the top, he paused for a moment to sniff then took a swig, “I wanted to.”

“Thank you.” He said after a short pause, picking up the bag of chips. Momma didn’t raise no ungrateful shit, after all. Plus, he was hungry, so he couldn’t really complain to much. He would find some way to replay him later. There were still some homemade cookies that he had made earlier in the week left over so those could easily go to Sidon. Seemed like a good trade, and Sidon would be happy, which meant he’d be happy too.

Pulling open the bag, he started to munch down. This was good, he liked this, this was something he was fully content with - enjoying, etc and so on, the point has been gotten. Smooshed up close to Sidon, close enough that he could smell his deodorant (something manly and musky), experiencing a quiet moment of togetherness that he normally wasn’t allowed. Sure, they hung out a lot but it was usually with their group. Private moments like these were hard to catch hold of. Without a doubt, though, he was going to have to make this a more regular thing.

“We should do this more often.” Sidon commented casually, as though he was reading Link’s mind.

“We should!” Link replied, then flinched at how enthusiastic he sounded.

“I’m off from work next weekend. Do you want to come by my place? We can go out, wander around wherever then head back, watch some movies? Just me and you?”

His heart jumped with excitement. With a huge grin on his face, cheeks tingling with heat, he nodded, putting a lot of self control behind the movement so he wouldn’t start flopping around, “Yeah, that sounds like fun.”

Fucking score! Fridays for him were most concentrated in the mornings, while Saturdays were evenings heavy so he had more than enough time to hang out with Sidon. He needed to reign himself in, though. This wasn’t a date. It obviously wasn’t a date, they were just hanging out, as friends, nothing else. And that was okay. It was, regardless of what the uncontrolled, emotion driven child inside of him was wailing otherwise. And he was grateful. Grateful for the chance to spend more time with this awesome guy.

Glancing over, he took in the said awesome guy. There were a good amount of people of an array of genders at their college who would kill their own mother for a chance to spend quality time like this with Sidon. To say he was popular was a goddamn understatement. Handsome to the point that it was actually a bit irritating - muscular, dark skinned, long red hair and those intense golden eyes that were always sparkling with curiosity, warmth and excitement - smart, charming, a leader who could rally people to do just about anything. Course, Link knew the less appealing aspects of his personality (rushing forward without thinking, not taking other options in consideration, not really realizing sometimes that being positive about stuff wasn’t enough sometimes, etc), which he did personally feel honored to know.

Despite being on opposite ends of the academic spectrum with Sidon in Marine Biology and him in Agriculture, and Culinary Studies, they met up in Link’s freshman year in a random elective class, became fast friends and from there on was history. Even after he graduated in Link’s sophomore year, they remained close (helped by Sidon remaining in town, and within walking distance from Link’s dorm) and started to hang out even more after - still not as much as he would like, they were both busy people, after all, but still, good.

From his pocket, his phone dinged. Zelda’s ringtone, someone had obviously caught onto the fact that one of the groups were missing. Tugging his phone out, he swiped until he got to the screen he wanted.

‘Where are you?’

Brushing his crumbs coated fingers off on his jeans, he typed out a reply, then decided there was a better way to convey his and Sidon’s current location. Pulling up the camera, he switched around to the front facing, leaned over until his back was resting against Sidon’s arm, held the phone up and took a quick joint selfie. Despite the abruptness of the picture taking, it ended up being a really good one. Sidon caught on quickly, and flashed a bright smile that practically twinkled. Oh yeah, that was definitely becoming his home screen wallpaper.

“Will you send me that?” Sidon asked, popping a chip into his mouth.

“Yep, will do.” Link sent it to Zelda first, accompanied with a smiley face, then to Sidon.

Sidon’s phone dinged. Mimicking Link, he brushed his fingers off, got his phone off and laughed, “I love it. Do you mind if I make it my wallpaper?”

“Only if you don’t mind if I do the same.”

“Go for it.” He replied with a laugh.

Link’s phone dinged again with another message from Zelda. He was expecting some serious scolding for running off without telling but instead, the message only contained two words. Those two words immediately made him pause, eyes going huge.

‘Tell him.’

‘No way’ He quickly replied, the pace of his heart picking up considerably. Despite Sidon not being able to see his screen from his hunched over, focused on his own phone position, he shifted away to make extra super sure that there would be no accidental seeing.

‘Tell him.’

‘Nope’

‘Link, either you tell him right now or I will call him and tell him myself.’

‘You wouldn’t dare’

The final response didn’t surprise him in the least: ‘Try me.’

He knew better than do that. Once Zelda got her mind set on something, not even the end of the world would stop her. Regardless, what she was asking him to do was impossible. A dictionary definition of a ‘bad fucking idea, do not do’ would be to do what she wanted him to. Tell Sidon...someone he was 99.99% that viewed him as a friend and friend alone, that he was in love with him, had been since they first met during his freshman year. How was he supposed to say something like that? How could he possibly risk their friendship, especially now when they had developed to a point where they were so comfortable with one another?

Not possible. He wouldn’t do it.

As though she was sensing his hesitation, Zelda sent him one more message. It consisted of two, simple words: ‘Trust me.’

His fingers curled tightly around his phone. She might not believe it, but he did trust her. There was probably only three people in the whole wide world he trusted, and she was at the very top of that very short list. Still…..still, could he really say it? Was it really alright for him to say it? There were a lot of challenges he had faced in his life, a lot of uncertain plunges into shady water that could have resulted in a broken neck but came out okay, even good sometimes, in the end. Was he brave enough to plunge into something like this, knowing full well that it could easily wind up being disastrous?

Zelda could say ‘tell him’ and ‘trust me’ all she wants but that didn’t change the fact that he could very well lose Sidon if he told him. Rejection he could take. He could handle Sidon saying he didn’t feel the same, that was just the way of fucking life. It sucked. It definitely sucked. Did that make it unbearable? Hell, no - he’d take the negative, get over it, move on, suck it up, etc etc, point fully gotten. It was Sidon getting grossed out, disgusted, uncomfortable by the thought that a friend being in love with him that he couldn’t stand the thought of. That would drive a wedge between them, they’d drift apart - he didn’t want that. He’d rather stay silent then have that happen!

But...could he really stand to stay quiet? For years, he had been hiding it. Swallowing it down so that Sidon wouldn’t notice how stupid he made him. How much longer? How much longer could he hold it in? How much longer could he deny it? How much longer was he going to keep asking himself those dumb questions? He did love Sidon, he loved him so much, from his charming ways to his obnoxious habits. Could he? Could he do it?”

“Link? You okay?”

“I love you.” The words were out before he could stop them. Realization hit him a split second after, his brain almost on a delay. Every muscle froze, his heart did a dramatic faint inside his chest, swooning over like a traumatized southern belle, cold dripped sickeningly into his stomach and he was pretty sure he might vomit up all the sugar and carbs he just gobbled up. Screwed up, he just screwed up so much. His thoughts had been so preoccupied with telling Sidon that it had just come out, spilled out, like fucking word vomit.

“I love you, too.”

“...huh?” Link slowly raised his head to look over at Sidon. The words were in his ears, but he couldn’t fully comprehend them. Was he hallucinating in a moment of stress? That did seem possible.

There wasn’t a hint of anything negative on his handsome face. In fact, Link was surprised to find he looked...happy. Incredibly happy, even. There was a pleased glimmer in his golden eyes. Strong lips were pulled into a soft, sweet smile that made his face even more gorgeous. Reaching up, he brushed the backs of his fingers along the curve of Link’s cheek, sending a pleasant tingle over the surface of his skin, then tucked a length of blond hair behind his ear. Okay, yeah, definitely not the reaction he had been expecting but definitely the one he had dreamed of. Not mad, farthest thing away from mad, that was good. No, not good. Amazing. It was amazing.

Breathless glee flooded into his chest, bringing with it a supreme warmth that drove away all hints of cold, “You aren’t mad?”

Sidon gave him a confused look, “Why would I be mad?”

Nervously playing with his fingertips, he said, “I thought you’d be against it or like, disgusted or something…”

Glancing up, he found Sidon’s confused expression had morphed into an odd one. He still looked thoroughly confused, but there was a strangeness along with that. Opening his mouth, he started to say something, thought better of it, clicked it close, knitted his brows together then let out a brief chuckle and said, “Link, we’ve been dating for a month now.”

“...huh?” Now it was Link’s turn to look confused. Dating? Them? They had been dating? Since when? Well, Sidon said a month but he didn’t remember ever agreeing to something like that. Seemed like a kind of hugely important thing that he wouldn’t forget. He was swamped with work and school, but that didn’t mean his brain had stopped working.

A disbelieving smile spread across Sidon’s face, “Did you not realize?”

“No, I thought we were just like two buds, hanging out! We’re dating?!”

“Remember when I asked you out? We went to the movies together? Got dinner?”

Yes, he did remember that, it had been a great time, but, “I thought we were just hanging out as friends! I didn’t know it was a date! Wait, how did you not realize that I didn’t know?!”

Sidon stared at him for a moment then burst out laughing. Clapping a hand over his forehead, he yelped, “I thought you just wanted to take things slow!”

“But, you genuinely thought we were dating?”

“I did!” He chortled, coughed hard then sighed, shaking his head slowly, “Well, this explains a lot.”

“Are you mad?” Link asked again, struggling to comprehend the whole thing. Dating, they had been dating, and he hadn’t even been fucking aware of it. How dense was him?! Then again, he couldn’t recall Sidon ever saying that he liked him - well, no, that was actually incorrect. When thought back, he could remember three times where, very clearly, Sidon had conveyed to him that he did, in fact, like him. But his gay, dumbass hadn’t caught on. He was never going to live this down. Once Zelda found out, he would never hear the end of it.

“I’m not mad. Just surprised, and a little baffled.” Giggling, Sidon tucked a strand of red hair behind his hair, “So, I was thinking we were already established, and I’m guessing you’ve been struggling with trying to confess to me. Is that correct?”

Blushing a bit, Link nodded.

Sidon thought for a moment then continued, “Alright, lets start over.” Clearing his throat, he shifted around until he was fully facing Link. Reaching forward, he took Link’s hands into his own, looked him straight in the eyes, and smiled widely, “Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Returning the grin with a goofy one of his own, Link nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah, I do.”

“I love you, Link.”

Hearing those words, it was just as amazing as he thought it would be. Letting out a long, shaky breath, he squeezed Sidon’s hands, “I love you, too.”

“Can I kiss you?”

The question startled him since he wasn’t expecting such a quick development but nodded again nonetheless. There were a lot of things he wanted; right at the top was a good ole kiss from Sidon, who was now, officially, his boyfriend! His heart practically sung at the thought. Giddiness whirled around wildly inside his mind, spinning around and around like an out of control merry-go-round. Excitement thundered through his veins as Sidon slowly leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Five inches, four inches, three, two, one then, finally, their lips were pressed together.

Breathing out sharply through his nose, a jolt racing through his body, sending tingles weaving along the lines of his nerves, Link unconsciously pulled his hands away from Sidon’s so he could reach up to settle them on his broad, strong shoulders. Underneath his palms, he could feel the thick, powerful muscles. Against his lips, Sidon’s were a little cold, firm but somehow, remarkably, soft and supple. They felt incredible. Breathing in, he was able to pull in Sidon’s scent: the manly deodorant, a small hint of piney shampoo and a unique tang underneath that he knew was uniquely Sidon. With his hands freed, Sidon wrapped his arms around Link’s waist, tugging him even closer. Warmth soaked into his skin through the fabric of his shirt. Hazily, he wished that Sidon would let his hands roam, to touch him all over, to spread that heat to every inch of his body.

His first kiss, and it was with someone he absolutely, one hundred percent adored. Two minutes ago, he hadn’t even thought this would be possible. Now, he was fucking kissing Sidon, who was now his boyfriend, who, admittedly, thought they had been dating for a month while he hadn’t been aware of that at all, but still! Boyfriend, together, love, his brain repeated those words continuously as their lips lightly, gently slide over one another. Looked like there was some merit in jumping head first into shady water because, even with the risk of breaking something, the end result could be kissing a person you’ve been in love with for three years, and who loves you back.

“I’ll make a deal with you.” Sidon breathed, moving back just an inch, close enough that their lips were still brushing together.

“What?” Link asked, breathless, a bit dizzy and happier than he could ever remember being.

“Move in with me, and I won’t tell Zelda or Mipha about any of this.”

Link laughed, “Blackmailing, are you?”

“Just using the information I have been given.” Sidon replied with a teasing smile, which sent a jolt of heat racing down Link’s spine.

“Uh, that’s blackmail.”

Sidon shrugged, “Blackmail, persuasion, call it what you like.” Leaning forward, he bumped their foreheads together, never breaking eye contact with him, “Move in with me, okay? I’ve wanted to live together for over a year now.”

“Only if you let me pay half the rent.” Link tried to negotiate but Sidon was immediately shaking his head.

“Nope. However, I will compromise. No paying for rent, but I would like to eat your cooking.”

Okay, yeah, that was a compromise he could get behind. Cooking was fun, cooking for Sidon was even better. Course, if Sidon insists on him not paying rent, then he was going to insist that he did more around the apartment then just cook. He’d be a goddamn maid if need be. Regardless, that was an offer he was most definitely going to take. Pushing back against his now boyfriend, he heaved an overly suffering sigh, slumped his shoulders in mock defeat and said mournfully, unable to keep the smile off his face, which didn’t really help the atmosphere he was trying to get across, “I suppose that’d work.”

“Good.” Sidon planted a quick kiss on his forehead then leaned back with a bright grin, “So, just so we’re clear: we are dating?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re moving in with me?”

“Yes.”

“And you love me?”

“I do.” The tips of his ears were burning now, but he could hardly feel it over the happiness flowing through him.

“Good.” Sidon leaned forward for another quick kiss, “I love you, too. Spend the night at my place, okay?”

Without waiting for a response, Sidon stood, held out his hands for Link to take then tugged him up when he did so. Feeling like he was walking on sunshine, like the world beneath him had turned into clouds, Link held onto enough rationality to pick up his trash, not wanting anyone to have to clean after him. Halfway convinced he was in a dream, he let Sidon lead him just as he had before, tossing their garbage away in a local trash can as they head back towards the hotel. Boyfriends, they were now boyfriends, love fulfilled, no rejection. At the moment, he couldn’t quite believe it. However, the next morning, when he woke up next Sidon, wrapped up in his warmth and scent, then, he was sure it would finally hit and he might do something embarrassing. In fact, he knew he was going to something embarrassing and it didn’t matter an inch. Sidon was his boyfriend. He was Sidon’s boyfriend. They loved each other, in love with one another. That was all he could ever care about.

He would need to thank Riju for inviting him out on a ghost hunt. It turned out to be one of the best nights of his life.

#loz #breath of the wild #prince sidon #sidlink

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