#see the rules don’t make sense and it pisses me off. if you’re going to have rules commit to them like seriously

[livvyofthelake]

perhaps final destination 2 was just really bad. jj criminal minds you just did not give what needed to be gave…

[simpjaes]

PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM (l.hs)

You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off. 

៸៸៸ minors do not interact!

៸៸៸ simp gamer ! lee heeseung x afab reader 

 ៸៸៸ wc: 30k

 ៸៸៸ tags: smut, sister’s boyfriend trope, exhibitionism and voyeurism, dom heeseung, he is also unemployed lol, gaming antics, discord streaming, sexting, sex bets, shameless behavior, food mentions, alcohol use, implied sickness due to said alcohol, jake, sunghoon, and jay as the gamer friends who have a bet going. also the guys who get to watch….kind of. 

 ៸៸៸ !WARNINGS!: cheating/infidelity, dubcon-ish at one instance, heeseung is mean and manipulative. instances where jake, jay, and sunghoon take advantage of a situation where reader is drunk (conversation based), the reader can be lifted, visibly marked, has hair that can have fingers ran through it, and blushes visibly.

 ៸៸៸ a/n: this fic was written for heeseung's gf @drunkhazed! i really loved the idea, as you can see, i kind of went crazy with it. i hope it lives up to your imagination but maybe not idk. you better love it anyway oomfie, bc i loved writing it for u. this fic was briefly edited but likely still has a million typos and grammar errors.

៸៸៸ nsfw tags below

៸៸៸ nsfw tags: 10” heeseung, dubcon-ish at one instance,  masturbation, pillow humping, cum eating, degradation, hentai watching, sexting, sex on camera, blow job, voyeurism, exhibitionism, deep penetration, cream pie, breeding, blood and spit, one mention of piss but no actual piss (form of degradation), fingers down your throat.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Walking into an empty room has never felt so freeing, especially in knowing this is your space. Safe from your parents, bare and ready to be adorned with all of the things you hold dear to you. What’s even better? It’s bigger than your room back home, and you even have a little attached bathroom of your own. 

Life is great. You think studying here will ease your mind and allow you to graduate top of your class by the time it’s all over and done with. If you could kiss your sister, you would, really. 

You remember being kids and the two of you promising that when you grow up, you’d live together and never grow apart. After actually growing up though, she finished her degree and went off on her own, leaving you by yourself with no one to get you through the hardships of becoming a college student yourself.

With her working full time for several years and you struggling your own way to the top, she really did follow through with that young childhood promise. 

“Why don’t you come live with me through college? I’m sure it would be easier than living with all those rules.” 

You didn’t even think twice and had your bags packed a single day after the invitation. You stayed up all night getting it done, emptying your childhood room filled with both good and bad memories. Alas, you did have to wait until the spring semester was over though. Thankfully, you were only sleeping in a packed up room for about a week.

You find yourself here now, with your sister lovingly making lunch in the kitchen while her boyfriend, who you have only met briefly at holiday gatherings, stays in the office-turned-gaming room hooting and howling over some game he’s playing.

“Don’t mind him.” She half-smiles when he doesn’t immediately head for the kitchen, making her own plate and moving to the table with a sense of annoyance. “He’ll be out in a bit, it’s a pretty normal occurrence.” 

“You don’t think it’s rude?” You furrow your brows now, automatically assuming that your sister deserves a man willing to work just as much as she does. Still, you don’t entirely mind that you weren’t forced into an official meeting of the man of the house first thing when you walked in.

“Nah, not really. Been dating him for years, I knew what I signed up for when I moved him in.” She smiles while shaking her head, seemingly accepting all of his positives and negatives.

“Does he not have a job?” You pry, picking at your plate and trying to memorize his actual name because for a little while, you really started to wonder if his name was just a variation of “honey” and “babe”. Thankfully not. 

“He’s looking for one.” She says, looking at you and trying to read your judgment. “Before you say anything, he has money. Or–well, his parent’s have money. They pay his half of the rent right now.”

You shrug, noting that she really does seem happy and you’d be the best person to judge her level of fulfillment outside of herself anyway. You trust that she picked the right man, even if he’s still screaming in the other room with an empty stomach. 

“By the way…” She says with a wicked smile, one that you remember growing up with. The other end of that smile always ends with some sort of…antic. “We’re throwing you a welcome party this weekend. Inviting all of our friends too, so it’s easier for you to start being social on this side of town.”

You would groan, but growing up in your childhood home with your parents never came with parties. No birthdays at home, no sleepovers, nothing. Hell, they wouldn’t even allow you to attend other parties as a child, and going to college parties was out of the question.

The only party you ever attended was during the time you snuck out. They made damn sure you never snuck out again after that mishap as well. 

“Oh, really?” You chew and speak at the same time, not minding your manners at all considering you can get away with it now. “Is there gonna be alcohol?” 

“Oh, yes, yes.” She smiles again. “Gonna give you a proper party since, you know.”

You nod to her and you both laugh together at the found freedom you share, and then, well, the king of screaming like a toddler walks in. His hair looks like shit, an indent at the top of the messy locks indicating that he must have had his headset on for a long fucking time. Loose shirt with the sleeves pushed up, eyes sleepy and red, probably burning from the sunlight coming through the windows, and some sort of smile on his face. He looks at his girlfriend with that tired smile, about to thank her for the meal, then his eyes trail to you.

“Oh fuck–” His hands raise to run his fingers through his hair, then both rest on the back of his neck as he lets out a big sigh. “Was that today?” 

You give him the side eye of all side eyes at this moment. Reminding yourself how you and your sister spent all morning hauling your stuff in without his help. She also did say he would have put together your desk, dresser, shelf, and bed frame by the time you got here. Well, he didn’t.

“Yep.” She pops the p on the end of her word indicating passive aggressive annoyance. 

“Shit.” He mumbles under his breath, placing his empty plate right back into the cupboard and making his way to your room. “I’ll do it now. I’m sorry babe.” 

Your sister nods triumphantly, watching your look of surprise in reaction to the way he instantly appears to fix his mistake without more than a single word from her. 

“He knows when he fucks up. He was supposed to do it yesterday but as you can see, he hasn’t left his PC since like, nine o’ clock last night.” She shrugs.

You laugh, furrowing your brow at her. 

“I really didn’t expect him to be so lazy, sis, I always figured you’d be dating a doctor or something.” 

She brushes off her shoulders with a proud look, leaning towards you with a smile. 

“He was working a really good job but I could see how unhappy he was. I’m giving him a year or two to figure himself out. He’s been back and forth trying new things, hasn’t quite landed on anything he likes yet though.” 

She is a fucking saint. Honestly, Heeseung might be the luckiest man in the world to have a woman willing to do such a thing for him. 

“Woah,” You start, taking a sip of your water. “He’s trying to make it as a streamer right now, I take it?”

She shakes her head with an eye roll.

“Not really, he’s just always spent as much free time as possible playing but, I trust that he’ll figure something out sooner rather than later.” 

And you pry for a while longer. Learning about all of the things your sister and Heeseung do together, learning about her friends and his friends, the rules of the house, and the not-rules of the house. For instance, you’re allowed to bring home hook-ups or dates if you give a fair warning so she doesn’t have to hear it. However, the food in the fridge is for the house occupants only, and people need to ask before opening the cupboards and filling their plates. Of course, unless there is a party. 

Another rule, which was a bit too much information but you figure it’s fair since everyone here is an adult. She and Heeseung apparently have a pretty active sex life and apologized in advance for some of the things you may end up hearing. She also noted that there will be ear plugs if you need them, but that she suggests throwing on some headphones and ignoring it. Fair enough, it’s her house anyway. 

And after a few hours pass, Heeseung makes his way out of your room with a smile on his face. You remember seeing him maybe two or three times during the holidays but he never mingled with you. He never mingled with anyone, actually. He tended to keep to himself, with his loose fitting outfits always sticking out in the awkward family photos that your sister would sneak him into. That’s all you can really recall about him. 

It is kind of strange seeing him in his natural habitat of your sister’s house. Already, you’ve seen more personality in him than you ever did during the brief meetings. It’s kind of nice to see him proudly nodding his head to your bedroom as if to invite you in properly like he should have done hours ago when you arrived. He took it upon himself to rearrange the room for maximum space. Arguably, you’re impressed. 

“I unpacked some of your things too.” He comments as he hugs your sister from behind in the doorway. “Needed to make sure the dresser drawers wouldn’t cave in.” 

Your eyes trail to the pretty dresser, painted white with even prettier trim on it. It’s the first time you’ve ever had a matching bedroom set. You head over and take a peek in the drawers, noting that he didn’t just haphazardly throw your clothes in there. 

Top drawer, all of your undergarments are fucking folded. Second drawer, socks, tights, and leggings, third drawer, soft pajama sets also folded. And the fourth drawer remains empty.

You turn to look at him, embarrassed by the fact that he took it upon himself to do that. You can’t see a single shred of embarrassment in his own face though, and it appears he really was just being nice. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. I do the laundry here so I’ll be folding those more often than you’d think.” He smiles, and your sister lends a chuckle. 

“He’s gotta do something while I’m making most of the money.” She shrugs, totally fine with the fact that her boyfriend just handled every piece of underwear you own save for the ones you’re wearing. 

“Closet too, hung up what I could but I’m like, really hungry so I figured I could leave the rest to you.” 

You nod in appreciation, in awe of your new room and the soft, plush carpet on your floor. Your old room was hard wood with dust filled corners, it felt cold. Here though? You feel welcomed, warm, and cozy. 

Hundreds of ideas flood your mind about how you want to decorate the room and as you go to start unpacking your miscellaneous items, your sister nods and backs out of the room with her boyfriend still hugging her from behind. 

There, you’re left to your own devices. 

Another thought crosses your mind when you hear the door close as well. The fact that you haven’t had a door to close for your bedroom since you snuck out all those years ago. The sound felt like music to your ears as you found yourself falling back on the bare mattress with a deep and relieved sigh. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

With all of the unpacking, wall art compositions, and napping in between, the week flew by quicker than you anticipated.

Waking up today, at half past two in the afternoon felt so good. Your duvet felt crispy, your room was completed and finally your own, and it felt safe. You could smell the breakfast cooking in the kitchen, and your sister’s voice paired with Heeseung ringing fondly at each other. 

Little bit strange that you didn’t wake up to silence in the house, considering Heeseung is usually just now heading to sleep with that fucked up sleep schedule and your sister is normally lounging in the living room with a snack, iced coffee, and watching her favorite reality shows. Save for when she’s at work all day, of course.

Still, you slowly pull yourself out of bed feeling happy and refreshed, stepping into your attached bathroom to do your morning routine before exiting the room, and then heading into the kitchen with a small “good morning.”

“It’s nearly three in the afternoon.” Your sister smiles at you. “But good morning to you too sis.”

Heeseung, seemingly dressed for the day with a band tee and a beanie on, lends you a glance and a wave as he swings back and forth in the kitchen, mixing pancake batter in a bowl for your sister and unaware of the speckle of said batter stuck in a strand of his hair. 

You lean over your sister’s shoulder after waving back to him, noting how she’s making little bite-sized pieces of pancake. Ah, this is the life, really. 

“Well? Don’t just stand there? Pour some juice or something. We need a big meal before tonight.” Your sister laughs at your sleepy content hum from behind her, noting how you act much like she did when she first got out of the childhood home. 

You take a step back, eyeing the room, trying to put the puzzle pieces together as to why Heeseung is awake and dressed and why she’s making a big meal to begin with. Both your sister and Heeseung note the confusion on your face. 

“Ah, she forgot.” He rumbles with a smirk, not keeping his eyes on you for too long as his focus falls back to mixing. 

“Did you really forget?” Your sister rolls her eyes with a spatula in hand, turning to you and putting her other hand on her hip. “Everyone seems excited to meet you, they’ll probably start pouring in around six or seven tonight.”

“Oh, right! The party!” You exclaim, shocked that you really did forget about it. With your sister’s promise of alcohol, you assume that explains the large breakfast, and also probably why Heeseung doesn’t look like a total slob.

“Yeah, the party.” Heeseung snickers, his back turned away from you but overall acting as if you’ve already lived here for months. Throwing the same sarcasm at you that your sister does. 

“Now go pour some juice, we have to go to the store after this and pick out drinks.” Your sister finally says, turning back to flip the pancakes in the pan. “You have drank since I moved out, right? You never wanted to try anything with me back then.”

You reluctantly nod your head, and your sister gasps fondly.

“Someone got into the liquor cabinet?” 

You nod with a laugh, knowing that you learned how to do it from her despite always being too chicken as a teenager to do it with her. The curiosity of being drunk didn’t outweigh the fear of being caught at all for you, at the time anyway. 

“Sunghoon is usually the one babysitting us, so no need to worry about pacing yourself.”  Heeseung comments along with his sneaky side eye at you. 

You don’t notice him do it at all, and even if you did you’d just assume it’s a passing glance. After all, you did open the fridge a little too hard.

“Sunghoon?” You ask. 

“One of my friends,” He raises his hand to his hair to try and shake out the now, obvious, speckle of batter that’s starting to dry in the strands. “By the way, when you go to bed tonight– make sure you lock your door.” He continues, turning around now and leaning against the counter just to watch you lift on your toes for some of the cups in the cabinet. 

His eyes watch the way you lift, your calf muscles flexing, your back arching slightly as you try to reach…And, well, he’s acting much like any man would, if he’s being honest, but ultimately he keeps his eyes to himself when your sister is turned or looking at him. 

“Noted.” You nod without paying much attention, pouring the drinks and now moving the filled glasses to the table.

You make brief eye contact with him, noting how he’s already looking at you while your sister is simply listening, facing the other way and mostly just focused on not burning the pancakes.

“I’m serious. Lock your door.” He repeats, scanning your body and judging just how dangerous it is for you to be living here. 

Mostly because he’s always found you quite cute, and he’s very aware that his friends probably will too. Hell, he’s already crossed a line with you since day one of you living here, he’s shocked you haven’t yet picked up on it, and knows very well that his friends will make moves instantly if you give them a chance. And with all things considered, you seem a bit too unaware of how attractive you are. 

“Hm?” You raise a brow as you make your way back to the kitchen. “I was going to, but now you’re making it sound important.”

“Well,” Your sister chimes in, stepping back once and holding out her hand. Heeseung is quick adjust his eyes, handing the fresh bowl of batter to her with a kiss to her cheek as if he wasn’t just eye fucking you. “All of them are single, and you’re just about as good looking as I am.” She laughs half-heartedly. 

She’s not trying to have an ego, but it’s best to warn you now at least. It’s not that she thinks she’s hot or anything, but she knows they think she is. And if that’s the case, they’re gonna be drooling over the younger, more single, version of herself. 

Heeseung rolls his eyes now though, leaning back against the counter and scanning you again the second your sister has her back turned. This time more blatantly. Eyes landing on the curve of your hips to the length of your legs. 

“Yeah.” He says, sucking in a breath with a half lidded gaze, letting his eyes trail down. “I’ll try to keep them at bay, though.” 

For Heeseung, there is nothing wrong with looking. For you? You feel very seen by him and it’s kind of throwing you for a loop. Your appearance becomes the main point of conversation and it makes you want to kind of leave the kitchen. 

“I doubt that’ll be an issue.” You try to laugh it off. 

“No, seriously.” Your sister says, turning to look at you briefly to give you a serious expression. “Back when I first met Heeseung, all four of them were after me. I swear, they’re more than just competitive with their games.” 

“I always win though.” Heeseung nods triumphantly, now keeping his eyes to himself and focusing more on his girlfriend.

“That, you do.” She boasts for him, leaning back after moving the pancakes to a plate and landing a kiss on his lips. 

You study how they move together. So in sync, not stepping on each other’s toes, ultimately moving in harmony. Likes it natural to them. She really does look happy, and he just looks like a guy who doesn’t know where to land his gaze. 

A normal guy, you think, who was given the same freedom your sister gives to you. It really is just who she is to take care of people, and the harsh judgment you originally had about Heeseung kind of fades a little bit as you watch them. 

You try not to study him too much though because damn, your sister knows how to pick them in terms of like, scale of attractiveness. Heeseung is the type of guy the two of you would giggle over at the mall. The type you’d silently bicker over from behind a store rack of jackets, or perhaps even fantasize about during a long and boring tv show with your parents. 

It’s not strange to find him attractive, because, well, he is. But you know your place here, and you’ve grown up to the point to know that you can appreciate a person’s looks and not need anything from them at the end of the day. 

However, you kind of hope his friends are at the same level as him. For one, to avoid having a secret crush on Heeseung, because who wouldn’t? And secondly, they’re single, just like you. 

Apparently they’re also a threat to the “innocence” both your sister and Heeseung seem to want to protect within you. 

“I’ll lock my door.” You say finally, receiving a happy nod from both of them as they continue their cooking and you make your way to the table. 

And while you do plan to lock your door, you also plan to take your time in getting dressed for the party. You kind of do want to be pounced at, or at least, feel the freedom of knowing you can look however you want without your parents forcing you into the ugliest outfit known to man. You know how to dress yourself, you’ve just never quite been allowed to do it. All those sneaky clothes your sister bought for you can finally come in handy. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When your sister mentioned throwing you a welcome party, you expected a gathering of friends standing around awkwardly sipping wine coolers. What you didn’t expect was for there to be mood lighting, music, an array of nicely dressed people, and a large gaming set up in the living room where the big screen television was muted and a maximum of eight at a time could go head to head on super smash bros. 

You found yourself enjoying it more and more as the night went on and you became more comfortable being greeted by strangers. Each drink you were handed mostly came from your sister, but by the time she stopped making her own drinks and began to drink whatever the hell-mix her friends were giving to her, Heeseung was the one handing you drinks. 

“Come here–” Heeseung says over the blaring music, still floored by how good you look now versus how good you looked this morning. To him, the drinks he’s having paired with you running around looking like this? It’s even more dangerous than he thought as he continuously finds himself staring, and finds you seemingly still unaware of it. 

 “I’ll show you how to mix this one.”

Your sister was off somewhere in the house with her group of pretty friends, and you’ve really only briefly met everyone as they walked in the door. The drinks in your system make you want to actually mingle though. Everyone else is mingling, everyone else looks comfortable and happy to enjoy the party. It drives you to feel the same.

You nod to Heeseung with warmth in your cheeks, noting that he looks about as tipsy as you do when he stumbles his way back into the brightly lit kitchen with you. Your eyes burn at the light, as do his, and he groans at it before opening the fridge and pulling out the cranberry juice. 

“Your sister said you’ve probably only chugged from a bottle, so I opted to give you the easiest drink to make.” He explains in a slight slur, setting the juice on the counter and ultimately knocking it with his elbow when he turns to grab the vodka bottle. “Cranberry juice and vodka.”

You feel endeared by his genuine smile and embarrassed laugh at the way he knocked over the juice, watching him in his own element and comfort zone. It makes you feel a little guilty that he’s been the one making your drinks, only because your sister must have asked him to by the time she got too drunk. 

Heeseung seems to do just about everything she asks of him, and while you’re thankful, you feel a little bad that he’d probably rather be in the other room with his friends rather than trapped in this empty and terribly lit kitchen teaching you how to make a fucking mixed drink. 

“I put about–” He starts, grabbing your cup and pouring it half full with vodka. “this much into yours.”

In your own state, it’s not like you’d know what’s too much or what’s too little to put into a drink, but so far everything he’s handed to you tasted good. So, you nod at him, attempting to focus in on the cup.

“And this much juice.” He continues, now pouring not enough juice into the vodka.

From this angle, watching him from behind, you pause for a moment in your tipsy brain. Distracted by the way his shoulders flex when he’s grabbing that big ass bottle of juice, but you’re quick to tear your eyes away. He’s just a nice looking guy, dressed up for the first time since you moved in, you can’t fucking help it. Surely your sister would understand if she ever caught you checking him out, right?

“Then just stir it.” He adds now, turning to face you and dipping two fingers deep into the liquid of your cup, swirling them, then handing you the drink. 

He sucks the remaining mixture off of his fingers in a blatant show of his interest that you’re still far too aloof to pick up, watching you pretend he didn’t catch you staring. And with his fingers still in his mouth, he smirks around them, giving you a pleased expression when you take a sip from the cup. 

You glance up just for a second when you taste the same exact drink he’s been making you for the past forty five minutes and nod, trying not to focus on the way his tongue darts between his fingers twice before he pulls them out of his mouth. 

“Good?” He asks for confirmation, and when you smile and nod again, his eyes stare harder. 

Surely it’s just because you’re drunk, but you swear he’s giving you bedroom eyes, and paired with what he just did with his tongue….well. He looks at you similar to how he did this morning. And when you moved in. And back during that one Holiday party he attended at your childhood home. 

Definitely the alcohol. Like, he’s dating your sister. She’s the prettier one, the more successful one, the one with more personality. You’re just you. No way in hell is he really looking at you the same way he looks at her. It’s just your boosted confidence of finally being able to wear such a skimpy outfit. It’s just the liquid courage, that’s all. 

“You know–” He starts this time, leaning against the counter like he did this morning while helping your sister cook, trying to appear casual, cool, and perhaps attractive in this stance. “When I was beating Jay’s ass on smash bros earlier, he mentioned you.” 

You continue to sip your drink, feeling a buzzing in your chest and ears as you listen to him. Far more able now to have any conversation he could throw at you compared to any other day. Even with the thought in your head that he might be checking you out.

“Oh? Which one is Jay again?” You ask, leaning slightly to peek around the wall at the crowd of bodies just a room over. Interest peaking solely because the majority of people in this house right now are like, next level attractive. Maybe this Jay guy can take your thoughts off of your sister’s fucking boyfriend. 

“The one with the sunglasses on his head, wearing all black.” He starts, leaning close next to you and pointing just in front of your line of sight. “He’s a fucking loser, though.” 

You look at the guy, trying to remember the short greeting he gave to you. A nod of his head when he pushed those same sunglasses up and into his hair. He threw a very quick glance at you, to your face, chest, legs, then back to your face where he nodded again before making his way into the kitchen to make himself a drink.  You think, maybe, that Jay guy judged you positively upon meeting you. 

“He didn’t even tell me his name, no wonder I didn’t know which one he was.” You lend a drunken laugh as you check him out, sipping your drink again while listening to Heeseung laugh next to you. 

His laugh sounds closer, which makes sense considering he’s now leaning his weight on you with his elbow on your shoulder, resting his head there. 

“I thought he was that one–” You say, now pointing your own finger to the other guy you met briefly, the one with the longer hair, dyed blonde with hella untouched roots.. 

He had a nice smile when he greeted you, leaning in for a warm hug with a small “great to finally meet you.” His clothes drastically differed from Jay’s though. Far more casual and normal, loose jeans and a large hoodie just like what Heeseung seems to wear so often, except the colors were a bit brighter.

“Nah, that’s Jake.” Heeseung snorts, breathing in your scent as he leans into you as closely as he can, letting the stands of his hair poking out from his beanie tickle your neck. “Careful with that one, he’s a pervert.” 

You’re quick to admit interest in this one too, swatting Heeseung’s hair from your neck without thinking much about it. Which, arguably, doesn’t quite sit well with him.

Not only are you almost entirely ignoring him now, but it’s his fault for pointing out his friends to you again despite his attempts at making them appear unappealing to you. It seems that his girlfriend’s little sister is a bit too eager to look at guys, yet not eager enough to look at him.

“Oh yeah?” You look for a little too long at Jake, in Heeseung’s opinion, as he draws his finger over to the very sober Sunghoon. 

“You remember meeting him though, he made sure of it.” Heeseung rolls his eyes from beside you, leaning hard. “Also a pervert, just a little less obvious. I’d steer clear.” 

“Is Jay the only one that isn’t a pervert?” You ask off handedly in a shy chuckle, bobbing your head now to the music bumping against the walls. 

“God, did I not just tell you he mentioned you?” Heeseung shifts his weight to his other leg, skewing his head and looking straight down your shirt. “He asked if you were like your sister, the freak.”

He leans away from you at that point, noting that your drink is already near empty again and needing to refill it so that way he can push his own opinions into that empty little brain of yours. 

“What do you mean, like my sister?” You ask, watching him take the cup from you and place it right there in front of the same ingredients he just used to make the drink before. 

“Well,” He tilts his head back slightly when he turns to prepare the drink, eyes looking at you in a dark and somewhat scary way, still with a charming smile though. “Your big sis kind of got a little dirty on our first date. Guess Jay hopes you’re the same.”

Heeseung hopes you are too, but not for them. 

And, for you? It’s not like you’ve ever been given a chance to do such a thing. However, upon meeting and then re-meeting his friends from afar, all of them really are quite attractive. Maybe you could follow in your sister’s footsteps just to say that yes, you fuck on the first date too.

“I guess I am a bit like her.” You say offhandedly, looking away from Heeseung and tipping your head back around the corner to check the three men out again.

And when Heeseung turns to give you another full drink, he snaps his fingers. 

“Get back in here.” He says, and when you turn to face him again, his eyes land right back on your chest. 

“I’d advise against it.” He slurs at seeing your curious gaze land on one specific friend, stirring your drink with his fingers much like he did before. “Jay is a slut.”

“All of them are, actually.”

Unfortunately, Heeseung’s warnings go through one ear and out the other. He can see it, especially with the way you place that drink up to your lips and make your way into the living room, leaving him behind without so much as a “thank you”. 

And when you sit, directly between Jay and Jake, both of them turn their heads from the large TV screen, which allows Sunghoon to land some pretty major blows on them until he, himself, turns his head to witness two drunk idiots and a pretty girl between them. 

“Heeseung said you asked about me.” You state boldly, leaning into the wrong person to say it. 

“Well, he’s a liar.” Jake bellows out, studying how drunk you are and glancing up at Jay with a snide grin. Raising his brows and gripping his controller. 

“That would be me who asked.” Jay pipes in, and it’s the first time you’ve heard his voice directly address you, but man, alcohol is fun. It makes you feel even more bold when you turn to look at him with a face that you assume shows interest.

“Why didn’t you just ask me yourself?” You ask, ignoring that you fumbled the greeting.

“You weren’t drunk enough,” Jay laughs, ignoring the screen as it gives Sunghoon his win. “I see now though,” He looks you up and down, slouching back against the couch and stretching his arm wide around the back of it, and you.” You’re definitely drunk.”

You nod happily, eyes turning to Jake, who is still just checking you out. 

“Sure am.” You laugh, hopping up in one motion and turning to face them. “Heeseung also told me that you’re all fucking perverts, so.”

Jay and Jake both lend a “what the fuck, bro?” face at Heeseung, who was slouched against the wall, yet again, watching how you interact with his friends.  He simply shrugs at them with a malicious smile into his drink. After all, he’s the one on top of the world right now. Not only does he have a hot as fuck girlfriend who lets him live and do as he pleases, but now he’s got a younger version of her running around, acting like she knows how to whore herself out.

He can tell you’re just like her in that regard. Ready, willing, wanting to experience everything all at once if the world throws it at you. From the way you sat between his friends to the way you snitched on him with a pretty smile on your face. Oh man, the guys probably love you already.

“So, what?” Jay rolls his eyes as Jake watches you stand on wobbling legs. “You don’t like to get laid?”

You bellow out a laugh that nearly throws you off balance, but Jake is very quick to lunge forward and grab your arm to steady you, forcing you to spill your drink all over yourself and him. 

“Sure I do,” You ignore the blatant show of your mindstate and instead, remember how you’ve actually had plenty of sex during whatever time you could fit, in whatever place was hidden enough that didn’t involve your own home. “Why, you trying to get some?”

Jay smirks at you as Jake holds your half-spilled drink, listening to you flirt and smiling much the same way. 

“Maybe.” Jay shrugs, side eyeing both of his friends. “You gonna give it up?” He adds, now blatantly checking you out from head to toe, liking very much what he’s seeing. 

“Nope.” Heeseung suddenly cuts in, staring his three friends in the face as he grabs your drink from Jake and hands it back to you before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pretending to be the knight in shining armor your sister wants him to be. 

You look back at the three men as Heeseung leads you away, then you note that Sunghoon shrugs at you.

“What the hell?” You ask, slightly annoyed with Heeseung and the lights of the kitchen blinding you once again. “I was busy.”

“Busy doing what? Teasing my friends?” Heeseung shakes his head as he turns away from you, placing your cup down and opening the bottles back up. “You’re playing a dangerous game, babe, I’d stop if I were you.” 

“And? Maybe I like it.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how the alcohol radiates behind your eyes and lends two Heeseungs to pretend you’re not attracted to. At least with his friends, you can be more open about it. 

Heeseung stops making your drink and turns to look at you and the way your eyes struggle to adjust. He’s entirely floored by that statement. The fact that you’ve kept to yourself for the most part since you’ve moved in, and now you’re all cute and drunk in front of him revealing just how much of a whore you might be if you were given the chance? Damn. 

“Your sister would kill you.” He says, turning back to your drink and knowing that your sister probably wouldn’t actually give a shit if you fuck his friends. He does though. 

“I mean, I guess I won’t stop you.” He lies, now turning back to make your drink the exact same way and giving it to you despite knowing he shouldn’t be giving you more. 

“Can honestly say you’re a bit too pretty for them, though.” He adds in a snide compliment, wanting so badly to flirt but doing his best to appear like it’s totally normal for him to say these things. 

And as he notes your stare at him, processing the words, he takes this moment to grab a towel from the sink to dab away at the drink that you previously spilled all over yourself. 

You look at him, watching him dab the towel against your arm. He seems focused on doing it, pretty face and clear skin shining in these morgue lights in the kitchen compared to everywhere else in the house. And then, you note how when he looks up, his eyes stop momentarily at the amount of cleavage you’re revealing for this occasion. Hah, he probably thinks his messy strands of hair hid his eyes from you, but you saw it. 

“Oh, I get it.” You take in a deep inhale, reaching to pull his beanie over his eyes and letting out a bold laugh because really, you’re pretty drunk by this point. “You’re a pervert too.”

Heeseung shrugs, lifting the beanie back up and standing much taller in front of you. He skews his head down, looking right past your face and down your shirt this time. Proud of seeing the curve of them and the space between that could probably stimulate any cock you squeeze there.

“Maybe, yeah.” He smirks, taking a slight step closer and letting both arms trap you against the counter, hovering above you with an intimidating stance. “Maybe even more than they are.” He adds, already preparing himself to press his hips up and against you, uncaring of how it would look if he were to be found like this with you. 

Unfortunately, he’s forced to care because there’s a happy pair of footsteps making their way to the kitchen, and he really should not have been about to do that in the first place. He stumbles back at the sound, smiling at you with a quick, tipsy wink. 

It leaves you a little dizzy as you stare at him with a weird kind of aroused feeling in your gut. Surely that’s the alcohol too, it has to be. You’re very quick to shrug off the small intimate moment as you hear your sister’s loud and booming voice calling out his name.

You watch as she envelopes him in a fraction of a second, lifting on her unbalanced feet to immediately start making out with him. 

You’re not sure why you stand there and watch for a second, a little zoned out before Heeseung opens his eyes briefly and looks at you throughout the bruising kiss he’s currently an active participant of. 

There’s that same look again, only this time he’s doing it while licking into your sister’s mouth. You’re so fucking confused right now. All the signals have to be your imagination, right?

You snap out of the daze then, whispering a small “ill just go somewhere else.” before leaving the kitchen and finding yourself at the table just outside of it. 

You try to keep your eyes to yourself at this point regarding Heeseung, feeling all of the buzz and heat in your gut at the idea of being allowed to be openly sexually attracted to just about any man you lay eyes on. He’s nothing special, just a handsome guy. His friends are just as attractive, right?

And as you trail your eyes around the room trying to find someone to go mingle with, you are instead surrounded by your sister’s friends. Still, when you glance to the living room, every single time, either Jake, Jay, or that other guy is watching you with eyes that you’ve read before from other men.

Arguably, the same eyes Heeseung gave you just a few minutes before. At least with them, you know you’re not reading those bedroom eyes wrong.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Give me a week.” Jake says, elbowing Jay in the side and taking a hefty sip of his terribly mixed drink as his eyes drift to the new girl surrounded by other hot girls. “I'll be in her bed before the week is up..” 

Jay rolls his eyes, standing from the couch and stretching out his own tipsy limbs as he walks to Sunghoon and sits on that couch instead. 

“Three days for me then.” He says, giving Jake a too-confident face. “I could go over there right the fuck now and have her on her knees, probably.” He says as he looks at you, fitting in so well with the group of girls. Possibly being the hottest one too. “Maybe.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes at his slurring best friends, clearly drunker than they realize. 

“You both take the wrong approach.” He says, stiffening his shoulders before slouching entirely against the couch, considering ditching the baby-sitting job and having a drink as well. “You think they’d just let you fuck her? I’ll get her to go on a date with me first. Get her legs open in my car after.”

“Quite frankly, Sunghoon, I don’t really give a shit if they’d let me. I’m going to get some of that.” Jay responds.

All three of them are staring at you, thankfully, you don’t seem to notice as you fall into a conversation with that same group of girls, plus your sister now. And just as Jake was about to add more to the conversation, Heeseung makes his way in. 

“Don’t–” Heeseung slurs as he flops beside Jake, letting his heavy limbs hurt his friend. “–even think about it, Jakey boy.” He says, knowing for a fact what all three of his whore friends are thinking. They’ve been staring and glancing at you all night.

Jake avoids eye contact, because he’s definitely thinking about it. 

“No worries.” Jay shrugs. “We’re just looking, that’s all.”

Somehow, someway, all three of Heeseung’s friends pick up on what Jay is putting down. Ah, a deal of leaving him out, they suppose. 

After all, Heeseung already managed to bag your sister. They know he’d keep her little sister off limits to them too. Out of respect or some shit, probably. Bro code, all of that. 

“Keep it that way.” He hums, shoving Jake and laughing. “She’s too hot for you guys anyway, just like her sister.”

There’s a shared look between the three as Sunghoon lunges for Jay’s drink and takes a sip of it. 

“Heeseung, we’re crashing here tonight.” He bellows out through tangy lips. 

And, well, Heeseung didn’t argue because he knows he’s not in a state to really give a shit at this point. The only thing he needs to be focused on right now is willing his cock to soften up a bit before he does something drastic about it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Heeseung thinks hard as he looks at himself in the mirror. He’s seeing two of himself which is kind of funny in one aspect, but also terrifying because he didn’t intend to drink this much.

Why is he so upset to see his friends go for you? You’ve been here a week and he’s already feeling so jealous? Really? Then again, he knew from the moment your sister told him you were moving you that it was going to be either very interesting or incredibly difficult. 

Mostly because he’s stolen glances at you for years. Wondering when you’d ever come to visit, always looking so pretty and happy during those brief holiday gatherings. Oh yes, he’s had his eye on you for a fucking while. And now? You’re living here? And coming onto his friends right after he warned you not to? 

For the past hour as he sipped and watched you roam the house, back and forth between the girls, your sister, and his boys, he couldn’t help but scoff at you for it. You haven’t spoken to him since the kitchen incident. A little bit of a blatant moment on his part, he admits, he even surprised himself with that.

Still, this protective feeling doesn’t come from being your future brother in law. Absolutely not. It stems entirely from the twitch in his pants he’s gotten nearly every single moment he’s gotten to take a long look at you. 

It was manageable before, where he’d see you maybe once or twice a year. But now? It’s every single day, and it pisses him off that you’re not mingling with him during this party. 

He stares at himself, bobbing his head to the music in the mirror before leaning forward against the counter and inching closer and closer to his own face.Finally, he can focus in and see only one of himself looking back in the mirror. 

All he sees is a man who has managed to bag himself the perfect woman. One willing to coddle him and take care of him like a mother would, one willing to let him float through life unemployed for the time being, one that doesn’t entirely let him fuck the way he wants to solely because she’s far too confident in herself to let him pull such a thing with her. 

Heeseung tilts his head at himself as he examines his face in the mirror, knocking his beanie off and running his fingers through his hair. Leaning back and once again to relish in his own doubled vision.

What he really sees looking back at him in that mirror is a man who bagged himself an almost perfect woman who appears to have a truly perfect sister. It’s the fact that suddenly, he can admit that he is bored in the bedroom, and a man who is far too eager to ignore that if he got the chance, he would be just like his friends regarding you.

He would be getting your number and asking to see what those tits look like under that skimpy shirt you’re wearing tonight. You’d probably show them too, considering the fact that you lived your entire life up until this point barred by church sermons and non-existent doors that offer no privacy to so much as finger yourself. You’re probably dying to experience all of the things you were already supposed to be well acquainted with at your age. 

And as he thinks about it, head spinning in thoughts of what he’s already done just moments after you officially moved in, he slips his hand down. Groping himself through his jeans and staring down at the bulge that sits just above the counter. 

He hangs his head, smirking and shivering at the small touch he lends to his own length. It’s the fact that he just got hard over the confirmation of being sexually unsatisfied in his own bedroom. The shamed truth that he stood here thinking a little too hard about what kind of nudes you’d send if he ever chose to ask for them, it’s not something he’s ashamed of either. 

In fact, the thought of sneaking out of the bed while your sister sleeps just to slip into your room and cover your pretty little mouth in his cum? That’s more arousing than knowing he could just leave the bathroom right now and fuck your sister. 

And he stands there for a few minutes testing that theory, running his fingers along the swollen inseam of his pants in a careful way, like his girlfriend does. He twitches once at the feeling, glancing up at himself in the mirror again, trying hard to imagine her in this bathroom with him. 

Another twitch, weaker this time. He laughs at himself quietly in defeat before breathing in a deep inhale through his nose, allowing the muffled music just outside of the door to fade off through his hot ears and aroused mind. 

He closes his eyes briefly when he grabs himself now. Rougher, harsher, messier. Trying to mimic the hand of a woman who probably hasn’t done this too much, trying to mimic what he thinks you’d do. His hips shift forward almost immediately and without intention, chasing the feeling of inexperience. Chasing the thought of someone that isn’t his girlfriend. He chuckles more now, confirming his theory.

Chasing it with his eyes closed up until he does open his eyes and sees himself looking so out of it for you. Knowing that you’re just ten feet away if he were to walk out of this bathroom right now, so drunk and cute, you probably wouldn’t think twice about giving it to him. Knowing that if he really wanted to, he could take you the way he’s always wanted your sister and you'd probably love every second of it. 

He’d fuck you better. You’d be tighter, wetter, and louder for him than she ever has been.

And just as he goes to slide his hand down the front of his pants, intending to fuck his own fist to the thought of you tonight rather than turning that lock behind his own door to get between your sister’s legs, there’s a loud knock on the door. He jumps at the sound, adjusting his pants right back to where they belong before whipping around a bit too quickly and sending a bottle of perfume clattering to the floor in a loud POP sound.

“Shit-” He groans, smelling the intense aroma of what your sister wears, forcing his mind back to the reality of not being allowed to fuck you. 

He tiptoes around the broken glass, nostrils burning at the strong scent before swinging the door open with an annoyed roll of his eyes. 

“Heeeeeeeeseungie!” Your sister sings, fumbling over and leaning on him instantly with her arms circling his shoulders. She’s so gone that she doesn’t even notice the scent of her favorite perfume that just got destroyed. 

“Hey honey,” Heeseung says calmly, appearing far more sober despite being a bit buckled at the knees. “Need help?”

She nods against his chest, unaware of his softening cock that wasn’t at all raging for her just moments before.

“There’s glass all over the floor right now, let’s go use your sister’s bathroom.” 

The length in his pants shrank nearly instantly upon feeling her cling to him like this, with that cute, high pitched, voice she tends to use when she’s needy. He tries not to think about that though. Coming to terms with the fact that what used to get him off is currently turning him off? That’s too much of a dangerous thought right now. 

“Mhm,” Your sister hums as he guides her to your closed bedroom door.  “Wait!” Your sister panics, coming to her drunk senses for just long enough to blurt “She came in here with Sunghoon earlier, we should knock.”

Heeseung stiffens for a moment, pausing his step just outside your bedroom door. The weight of his own girlfriend against him should be something he loves right now, but he just finds himself wishing she’d get the fuck off of him. 

The fact he’s somehow more pissed about you behind this door, probably giving it to Sunghoon, than he is in love with his girlfriend right now? Telling. He knocks once before immediately turning your door knob. Locked.

“Hey, your sister needs to use the bathroom.” Heeseung shouts right up against the crack of the door, wiggling the knob. “Open up!”

“Use the other bathroom!” You shout back in a muffled and far away sounding voice. 

Heeseung stands there, pretending he doesn’t notice the sound of shuffling on the other side when the song booming through the speakers changes for a split second. 

“Can’t use the other bathroom! There’s glass on the floor!” 

Silence from the other side of the door for a brief moment then, click! You crack it open, cheeks flushed and eyes struggling to focus on him. Heeseung immediately pushes the door open to reveal not only Sunghoon, but Jake and Jay all three lounging around your room.

Still fully clothed, at least, but he can tell at least one of them appears to be struggling to hide his hard on. (Jake.)

Heeseung narrows his eyes at all three of the men. Jake sitting stiffly on the floor at the end of your bed, hands over his lap. Jay, lounging on your bed, as if he’s been on it a thousand times with a half-boner on full display. And then Sunghoon, clearly feeling some type of buzz as he’s the only one still drinking, leaning right up against the dresser that Heeseung built himself.

“Ooh,” Your sister hums, wiggling her finger at you.”Scandalous.” 

You lend her a shy smile as you take a step back, willing them sooner rather than later to leave solely because you were busy in here.

Not like, fucking or anything. Just having a nice, innocent, conversation with three hot guys. That’s all. Plus, you’d never have been able to handle sitting alone in a room with these three if it weren’t for the alcohol in your system anyway. Especially with the way you initially only invited Sunghoon into your room to show him how you had the same style of socks he was wearing. Jake immediately followed both of you, followed by Jay, who was the one who closed the door and locked it. 

And you pay no mind to Heeseung and your sister walking to your bathroom on unbalanced steps, you find yourself flopping back on the bed right beside Jay instead.

None of them have done anything at all to make you feel awkward or like this situation is dangerous either. In fact, the only thing you guys have talked about are the mutual interests that you share. 

Poor you, so aloof when drunk. Unable to comprehend the fact that every single one of the guys in your room right now have made attempts to steer the conversation in their own way to things not so innocent. 

You do try to ignore what happened in the kitchen with Heeseung though, avoiding eye contact with him as he makes his way back out of your room after helping with your sister. You think he’s glaring, maybe, but oh well.

“Anyway, back at home my dad would have never let me wear band shirts.”

“That’s tough.” Jay comments, side eyeing your chest in that top and low-key wondering how nice your tits would look braless, under one of his band shirts. “Bet he didn’t know he raised not one, but two sneaky daughters.”

You smile triumphantly, ignoring the shadow of your sister that they force you into. 

“They made it really hard to break rules. Now though? I get to wear stuff like this and hang out with guys like you.” 

“Yeah,” Jake trails off, turning his body to peek at you from the end of the bed. “Probably not the smartest move on your part.”

You bring your attention to him, seeing a blur of charming eyes and messy hair. 

“What do you mean?”

“What he means is that, it’s probably not ideal to get shit faced then lock yourself in a room with three horny guys.” Sunghoon asserts, pushing off of the dresser and now setting himself on the foot of your bed. “You can’t tell?” 

You, for some reason, are astonished at his words. Sunghoon, compared to the other two, seemed more quiet and reserved if you’re being honest. Then again, you’ve only known these guys for a few hours by this point. What you do know about Sunghoon, is that he’s horrifyingly attractive in the way he carries himself, which you can’t really say the same for Jake or Jay. 

With his perfected dark hair and tall stance. he looms around with each expression on his face leaving little to the imagination in the way his eyebrows accentuate whatever thought flows behind his eyes. Somehow, he’s still the hardest to read, as you watch him assert his own form of dominance on your bed. 

You’re blissfully unaware of how tame Sunghoon was actually being at this moment though. All three of them, they’re competing to see who fucks you first, and whoever wins? Ah, not only do they get a paid night at the bar out of it, but both losers have to fork over another sum of money equal to that of two seasons worth of battle passes to whatever game the winner may choose to play. 

“I think this is a good time to hand you my phone, give me your number.” Jay cuts in quite quickly, ignoring the way Sunghoon invites himself into the space he created with you. 

Jay doesn’t even let you process his words as he tosses his phone to the side and at you, watching it land on your stomach before sliding off to the other side of you. 

“Ah, you’re cute.” He chuckles upon noting your terrible coordination skills of grabbing said phone. 

“Well, I’m drunk, so.” You dead-pan, freezing when you feel him lean over you to grab the phone himself, staying there and hovering over you with it in his hand.

You let out a small gasp when you meet his eyes, staring straight through you. 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes at Jay’s blatant show of interest, and Jake simply watches. Studies how you react to the forwardness.

“Go on.” Jay encourages you, holding the phone directly in front of you, where your eyes are still glued to his confident face, as if he’s not practically caging you in on your own bed like this. “Type it in.”

You do. Somehow managing to type your number perfectly on the screen placed in front of you, and he’s quick to turn the phone to himself, flicking his eyes back and forth between you and the screen as he presses the call button.

Your phone vibrates from the dresser and Jay gives a victorious and somewhat dark smile. 

“One for me, zero for the idiots.” He laughs, lending you one more glance, a squeeze of his palm against your waist, and then he’s moving off of you and your bed as a whole. “Call me when you kick them out, I’ll sleep in here tonight.” He adds, leaving no room for argument before leaving the room entirely.

That leaves Sunghoon and Jake, sitting there trying to pretend it wasn’t expected of Jay to at least get your number first. He always starts strong, then again, he also always fumbles hard when things get gritty. In game and out of game. 

“What a prick.” Sunghoon sighs, flopping back on the end of your bed and forcing you to shift your legs up and press them together to make room for his broad body.

He turns his face to look at you from down here, watching you spread your legs to look back at him. The motion is innocent at best, because you seem to trust that he’s not trying to be a pervert right now. Oh, but he is. 

He looks at you from this angle hard, realizing how easy it could be to shift just a foot in the right direction to have his face right where you’d probably like it. 

And you note the way he’s looking at you.

“Do you guys like…” You glance away from him, over to Jake who is now making his own way onto the bed where Jay was lying before. You shift for a moment, feeling like prey. “Do you guys always share a girlfriend?”

Jake snorts. 

“Share?!” He laughs at your question more before settling back against your pillows and landing his hand on your thigh. Easy, simple, and obvious. “We don’t share anything.” He explains now, feeling the fabric of your bottoms and pushing your legs closed so that Sunghoon can’t lay down there and think up all sorts of fantasies. 

“You’re gonna have to pick.” Sunghoon says in an annoyed tone, glaring at Jake for closing your legs.

He lifts up on his arms now, raising a brow. 

“I’ll give you some advice though.” He says, noting how you listen to him more than you do Jake. “Jay has the stamina of a dead horse.”

Snorting only for a moment, you think hard about Jay. Noting his cool and collected demeanor. Uncaring, somewhat cold, but his face seemed warm and endearing when he looked at you from time to time. You could sense the confidence in him from the moment he looked at you when he walked into this house. Instant attraction, without even knowing his name, is what you felt. With that sleek hair style and pretty hands gripping a full bottle of tequila. He probably has more stamina than Sunghoon gives him credit for.

“And Jake.” Sunghoon laughs this time, pointing directly at the guy lying next to you. “Two strokes and he’s out of the game.”

You laugh again looking over to Jake, who stares at Sunghoon with a dark glare. 

“What the fuck dude? That was one time!” He defends himself, babbling about how it was the first time he ever had sex, and how he can go way longer now. 

“Me, on the other hand.” Sunghoon perks up as he runs his hands through his hair before smiling at you. “I just want to take you on a date.”

Ding ding ding! We have a winner. 

“Really?” You ask, floored over possibly landing your first date in years that your parents wouldn’t be attending.

“Of course.” He nods politely, ignoring that Jake is even in the room now. “I’m not the kind of guy who is just trying to get between your legs.” He lies easily, glaring at Jake again for closing your legs earlier.

“So, what do you say?” Sunghoon encourages you to pick him at this moment, and the nod you give has him pulling his own phone out, asking you to tell him your number rather than forcing you to type it into his phone. 

You smile as you give him the numbers, not at all seeing Jake try to sneakily type it into his phone as well. 

“Good.” Sunghoon says, flopping back on your bed and now using his own hand to part your legs again. You look at him from above and feel elated by how petty and clean cut he is. “Don’t call Jay when I leave, then.”

You hum a confirmation, stretching out your arms and feeling confident as all hell at the way tonight has gone. Up until, well, Sunghoon makes his way out of the room and tries to drag Jake with him. Only because he knows Jake is awful at talking to girls but man, do they swoon if they’re into desperate guys. You seem to be into just about anyone, if Sunghoon is honest with himself. 

“Come on, dickhead.” Sunghoon gripes at Jake, grabbing his hoodie and physically trying to drag him out of the room. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Jake says, pressing all of his body weight against your mattress and kicking Sunghoon away from him. “Play fair or I’ll tell her about last weekend.”

Sunghoon instantly avoids eye contact with him, knowing that if Jake were to spill the beans on how he forgot to leave the server during his uh…session, a date would be out of the question not only for now, but for good.

“You’re the fucking worst.” He grimaces before releasing Jake’s hoodie and stepping out of the room, only half wondering if he should truly let Jake shoot his shot as well.

Ultimately, Sunghoon finds himself stepping out of the door and directly into Jay. 

“Well played.” Jay comments. “Guess I’ll just have to prove to her that you’re full of shit, won’t I?” 

Sunghoon smiles a wicked grin, eyes narrowing at Jay. 

“You won’t even get the chance.” He says, looking past Jay and down the hallway at Heeseung, who is shooting a death-glare at them. “Oh, check it.” He changes the subject by shoving Jay in the side to look at their friend. “He’s mad.”

Jay turns to look at whatever it is Sunghoon is talking about and simply laughs. 

“He can tell something is up. Maybe we should tell him?” Jay asks, crossing his arms in interest. 

“Eventually.” Sunghoon laughs as he pushes past Jay and makes his way to the kitchen for another drink.

Jake, on the other hand, is fucking vibrating as he sits alone in this room with you, dodging the questions about what Sunghoon did last weekend to cause such a reaction with an entirely made up sob story. 

“Oh my god?” You coo out, turning to face him entirely. “That’s so sad!”

Jake mumbles, nodding his head as if he pities himself with a pout on his face. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s just how things go for me though.” He shrugs, blinking at you with the biggest and softest eyes he can manage. 

“I can’t believe she did that!” You bellow out now, entirely invested in the backstory of the love life he lost just a few months prior. “With her own cousin, too?!”

Jake nods again with that same pout, looking as defeated as he can, trying to be as charming as he possibly can.

You lean forward to give him a some form of hug at this moment, drunken emotion overtaking you as you sit and watch this poor guy pour his little broken heart out. 

“If it makes you feel any better, my last boyfriend broke up with me because my dad threatened him.”

“No, that’s awful.” He chuckles sadly, shaking his head at you. “We’re both just unlucky, huh?”

He nods his head, seemingly to get you to shadow his actions, and as expected, you do. You nod to confirm his words, still invested in the fact that such a nice looking guy got fucked over like that, only to be made fun of by his friends for it. 

So invested that you don’t note the way he keeps his hand on your leg or moves it upwards inch by inch. 

“Can we change the subject?” Jake pouts harder, looking at you with sparkling eyes.. 

“Yeah, of course–” 

“You’re really, really, pretty.” He suddenly blurts, looking you in the eye and using his other hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face. You totally believed his entire story, if the saddened look in your eye is anything to go by. “I think you should go on a date with me instead.”

You break eye contact, looking down again and only just now noticing his hand on your leg. Only just now noticing that hard-on he’s sporting in his pants. 

“Jake.” You say, lifting your eyes back to him. “Are you–hard?” You lift your brows in pity again with the subject change, drunken brain telling you that he’s probably crawling in his skin over how hard he is, and how sad everything is for him. 

“Oh, over this?” He asks, dropping his hand and blatantly groping himself. “A little. It always happens when someone as good looking as you gives me the time of day.”

Oh, how sweet. How cute. The fact that Jake gets hard simply over someone being nice to him? 

“Well, don’t worry!” You try to perk him up, not at all realizing that he’s full of shit. “I know it’s not because you’re trying to get into my pants or anything. I won’t tell anyone.” You nod to him with a smile before– Uh oh.

“Well, actually–” Jake tries to start, already about to make his move when he notices the color on your face change and you’re fumbling to the bathroom. 

And just like that, Jake has failed, as he stumbles out of your bed and to your locked bathroom door. 

“Are you okay?” He asks with a sweet and caring voice.

Silence from the other end save for the sound of your sink running full blast probably to mask the sounds of your stomach trying to evacuate the copious amounts of alcohol that’s been fed to you. 

So much for the pancakes being a fix-all solution. And with that, Jake leaves the room while pulling out his phone, texting the number he stole when you gave it to Sunghoon. 

Jake: hey, don’t be embarrassed about getting sick. I’m gonna crash on the couch so if you need me i’ll be there.

After that, the party is pretty much over. Everyone save for the three perverts, Heeseung, and your sister remain.

This leaves your sister already passed out and tucked into her bed by none other than Heeseung himself, Jay already asleep on the couch, Sunghoon piled up on the floor between the dining room and the living room. Probably to create a barrier that would wake him if Jay really tried to get into your room.

And poor fucking Jake, forced to actually pity himself as he curls his body up on the love seat in the living room, pretending that it’s totally big enough for him to be comfortable here.

Heeseung looms around the house once everything goes silent, checking to be sure no one has passed out or died in a corner before coming back to the living room and staring at all three of his bitch-ass friends. 

On one hand, he’s glad they’re in the living room and not in your room. On the other hand, he wants to smother all three of them. One by one.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Heeseung is in his head for a solid three days after the party. So much that his focus is more on you than his games. Which is super fucked up when he thinks about it. That’s why, when your sister heads off to work, he’s plotting in his head every time. He needs you to like him somehow. 

The thoughts loop in his mind. From images of him pinning you up and against that kitchen counter again, to the fantasy image of you dropping to your knees in front of him. If anything, it’s not that he needs to fuck you, he just needs you to want him to.

And this is why he finds himself orbiting you. Finding reasons to come into your room, or reasons to get you out of it. 

“I’m gonna do some laundry, do you have anything I need to wash?” When you didn’t have anything more than what was already in your basket, he still washed your clothes. He also folded one of his own shirts into your pile just to see if you’d wear it. 

“I made some lunch, come eat with me.”  You already ate while he was in the office playing his games, which he should have guessed. 

“Hey, can you help me wash the dishes?” You had nodded, but never left your room and he ultimately ended up washing and drying them all himself. Waiting, waiting, and fucking waiting.

All three times he tried today, you brushed him off with your eyes glued to your phone. 

Something has got to give because it’s starting to get embarrassing how much he thinks about you. With the way he avoided sex last night with his own, very beautiful girlfriend, just to hide in the bathroom at four in the morning getting off with something he absolutely should not have in his possession. 

He doesn’t know how fucking long it’s gonna take to get you to break for him but it’s going to happen one way or the other. You don’t have a choice in the matter at this point .

It looks like you won’t even consider him in that pretty little head of yours simply because he’s considered off limits. He’s gonna have to prove you wrong.

Still, he remembers the way you looked at him during your welcome party. So cute and sweet when you’re drunk, so willing to hang out with him. The interest was there. He knows it was.

And now, as he ticks away at the WASD keys on his keyboard, running his little pixel version of himself back and forth between headshots that he misses every time, he wants to rip his fucking hair out. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Jay shouts through the headset. “He was right there!”

Heeseung knows his friends have every reason to rag on him right now. It’s the fifth lost ranked game of the day and he’s rotting inside at the thought of dropping back down to gold. 

“Platinum my ass.” Sunghoon pipes in, slamming his mouse on his desk out of sheer annoyance at what happened during the last game. “You didn’t down a single person in the past three games.”

Heeseung sighs, ripping his headset off and closing out the game. He can feel it in his body. The frustration bubbling up to the point that he really only thinks about you and this shit needs to stop now before his precious rank drops so far down that even their bronze boy Jake could boast above him. 

He ignores the annoyed shouts from his friends as he disconnects from discord, stands up, and practically storms out of the room and up to your door. 

“I’m coming in!” Heeseung gripes.

This is your first time witnessing him in a bad mood, as he does exactly as he says and swings your door open for the fourth time today. 

“You and me.” He says, pointing a finger at you “Right now.”

“Right now, what?” You ask in a nonchalant tone.

Which only pisses him off more because, fuck if he knows. 

“Get off your phone. We’re hanging out.”

You furrow your brow at him, pointer finger locking the screen of your phone and hiding the string of texts you’d been sharing with one of his very own best friends. Your eyes scan him only for a moment, noting how rushed he appears to be while barging into your room like this.

Large hoodie covering the majority of his body, sweat on his brow probably from all of that screaming you heard in the office earlier, and that same very embarrassing dent on the top of his head from his headset. 

As you look at him in all of his gamer boy glory you nod, only because out of all of his friends, you think you’d rather hang out with him because at least he’s not in your texts trying to land a date, or a hookup, or dropping dick pics by “accident”. 

He’s just Heeseung, your sister’s loving and very hard to read boyfriend. Who you don’t happen to fully remember is capable of pinning you against the kitchen counter while trying to show you how much worse he is compared to his friends. 

“Okay, what do you wanna do?”

He pauses, standing in your room and looking at you lounging on your bed. If he really told you what he’d like to do, it would probably scare you. He needs to think fast, not desperate. 

“Uh,” He hums, glancing away from you and lifting his hand up to finally ruffle that embarrassing dent in his hair away. “Have you ever played video games?”

“Yeah. Not the ones you play though.” You roll your eyes at his attempt at sudden small talk.

God, he shouldn’t have asked. He doesn’t think you could make yourself any more alluring to him after saying that. While his girlfriend has never once even considered picking up a controller, you have? Oh, shit. Man, that’s so hot. 

“Oh yeah?” He perks up in genuine interest, taking a step forward and landing himself on your bed without invitation. “Like what?”

“Party games mostly, I guess. Mario Party, Super Smash Bros, Wii sports, Among us.” 

He nods as you list the most mundane games in the industry. 

“Did you pick up pretty quickly? Like, did you ever win?” He asks, unaware that this conversation feels like literal foreplay to him, pleased by the fact that there’s suddenly more to like about you than just those tits and face….and personality….and intense need to break rules…and–

“Yeah, I can be kind of competitive.”

“Mm.” Heeseung nods in approval, turned on by the very image of you staring into a screen with dead eyes, fingers smashing on buttons and intensely focused. 

“Do you wanna watch me play something?”

“How is that hanging out?” You ask, scoffing at the idea. “Why would I want to watch you have fun?”

Heeseung looks at you. Yeah, that’s fair. He would probably end up ignoring you the whole time anyway, but still. Is it so bad that he asked simply to fulfill the fantasy of having a girl fawn over him and his successes? 

“Okay, then what would you want to do?” He shoots back, knowing it’s fair but hating it nonetheless. Wondering if there’s a chance that someday you’ll pile up on his lap and watch him carry the whole team to victory. Boasting for him more than he does for himself. 

“Horror movie. I’m sure she’s told you but our parents were very strict about what media we consumed. I have a whole list of horror movies I’m trying to work through, but sometimes it’s kind of difficult to watch by myself.”

Fuck yeah. Maybe it’ll end in that cringe and cliche scenario he’s used time and time again when flirting with girls. Images of you jumping from a jumpscare and grabbing him on instinct. Fantasies of you cuddling up real close. So close that he can smell how much you want him. He could get hard right now just thinking of doing this very thing with you. Plus, he fucking loves horror movies.

“Get your pretty ass in the living room then. ” He nods, smiling at you in a way that hides every thought behind his empty, horny eyes. 

And he just gets up and walks out like calling you pretty just now wasn’t at all out of place, he fucking winks at you. It really does throw you off that he just did that so nonchalantly, like he talks to everyone that way when you know for a fact that outside of this house, your sister has to fight him just to get him to wave hello to someone. 

You wonder why it feels like maybe you shouldn’t be spending time alone with him. Arguably, you don’t want to admit that it makes you feel good either. Already with three separate, very attractive people, in your texts insisting that you pick them, that you choose them. 

All of it is very desperate. Almost as desperate as you are to give in to every single one of them, but you can’t just let them know how sheltered you were and how free you feel the need to be now. 

Of course Heeseung, your sister’s boyfriend, calling you pretty would make you feel confident. Like maybe you could be with someone just as attractive as him, or perhaps no longer live in the shadow of everything you wish you could be. 

Her. Everything was always about her. 

“Oh, your sister got top of her class! She’s gonna be moving out soon!” She really just left you there to suffer alone. 

“Ah! Your sister just bought a house! I heard she and her boyfriend might marry soon!” 

You scoffed that day when you entered college, no one congratulated you for the countless free rides or multiple acceptance letters. No, it was all about her despite the fact that she lived an hour and a half away and you were right there.

She was only better than and outshined you because she was older and got there first. It was never competitive with you until everyone in your life expected you to outshine, outdo, and outwit her. 

Still, you jumped at the opportunity to live here solely to get away from your parents. Solely to try and live outside of everything you could be, only to become whatever the fuck you want to be. And yeah, you love her immensely because she truly is the only person who never expected you to be her. There’s so much resentment but an equal amount of love within you for your sister. 

And while Heeseung has no idea of this resentment you have rotting in your chest, you also have no idea that Heeseung believes the one thing you hold over your sister is the fact that you’re just her, except, well…younger, hotter, wilder, prettier, more inexperienced. Cuter voice. Snarkier attitude. Open, and perhaps, willing. 

If you knew that, perhaps Heeseung calling you pretty as if it’s his natural born right would become something different in your head. Perhaps you’d want to live in your sister’s shadow just once more. Why not try and take what your sister has? Wouldn’t that be fun?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

What a fucking bummer, Heeseung thinks, as he sits on one end of the couch with you on the other. He’s watched you more than the movie at this point, but the clock is tick-tick-ticking, and you’re just sitting there pushing through the horrors with a smile. Something's got to give. 

Your sister comes home in three hours, leaving space for just one more movie and he is truly determined to score this win if it’s the last thing he does. The worst part? Morals don’t mean shit if you want him to fuck you.

If there’s one thing Heeseung hates more than losing, it’s one-sided attraction. He knows he’s not the problem, you are for not looking at him long enough. You are for not even considering that he could fuck you better than anyone in all of those porn accounts you follow on twitter. Not that he stalked it or anything (he did.)

And that’s why, as his stare becomes darker, he stands up and scratches the back of his head with a sigh. 

“I’ll be right back.” He says, watching you wave him off as if you were totally paying attention to him.

That’s going to change right the fuck now. 

He heads to his shared room with your sister, stepping into the walk in closet and examining himself in the wall length mirror before sighing. 

Goddamn, he really stopped caring about how he looked once he finally got between your sister’s legs and locked her down. It’s no wonder you gave his friends more attention that night than you’ve ever given to him. He inspects his hair, messy and frizzy from his hoodie being pulled over and off of his head throughout the day. The cowlicks in the back leaving nothing to your imagination in regards to when the last time he washed the fucked-up locks was. 

He sighs at himself, licking his palm and trying to tame the cowlick. God, a shower right now would seem ridiculous because he’s supposed to be on the couch with you, standing up the gore and death on screen so your hand will accidentally touch his dick or something. 

No good. He needs to backpedal a little bit with his confidence, probably. He steps out of his room, taking his hoodie off at the same time. He rolls the sleeves of his t-shirt now, wanting to at least reveal his shoulders and arms to you. Wanting to parade himself around the house until you drip for him. 

“Hey.” He walks back into the living room, still rolling the last bit of his left sleeve up and over his shoulder. “Can you pause the movie for like ten minutes and throw a pizza in the oven or something?”

You look up at him and the way he seems like he’s thinking about something far off from any situation that’s currently happening. 

“Yeah, sure.” You nod, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie. “We could just keep watching while the pizza cooks though.”

He chuckles, knowing you’d say that and not at all having an excuse. 

“I need to take a shower.” He dead-pans, as if it’s not sudden or weird that he’s decided to rudely interrupt the last movie of the night with a shower that could definitely wait. 

“Just shower after we finish the movie.” You roll your eyes, still standing to your feet and heading towards the kitchen. “It’s not like your stink will get any worse in the matter of a few hours.”

Oh, so now he smells bad?! Is that why you aren’t into him?

“Or you could stop complaining and make the fucking pizza.” He snaps for the first time with a tone that indicates you should probably listen and do as he says. 

“God, what’s your problem?” 

“My problem? What’s yours?” He shoots back, far too annoyed that you play hard to get like this. There’s no way you seriously aren’t getting it. “You’re the one sitting around like you’d rather be doing anything else.”

You press the preheat button on the oven, and look at him shocked. Are his–feelings hurt? Are you really acting like a bitch, or uninterested in getting to know the man your sister will probably spend her life with? 

Were you really acting like you weren’t having a good time? God, you must be such a drag. 

“What? I was having fun, Heeseung, I like watching movies with you.” You try to explain, but he cuts you off.

“Fucking act like it then.” He gripes before turning on his heel and leaving you alone in the kitchen. 

It’s not like you knew he expected you to be interested in friendship with him or anything. You were just…hanging out. You really didn’t know it was supposed to go differently in his head, and the fact that it appears that he does have a specific expectation?  You wonder how to fulfill it. 

After all, you’re trying to avoid showing all the interest you actually have for him when you’re hanging out. It’s what you’re supposed to do, right? And well, by the time he’s out of the shower and presenting himself to you, you think you might have a better idea as to what he’s thinking. Is he trying to impress you right now? 

You can smell his cologne mixed with a minty scented shampoo. His hair looks blow dried. His skin is glistening, and he’s fucking shirtless. 

He watches when he sits down, this time closer to you on the couch presumably so you could share the pizza sitting on the coffee table just in front of you then he checks the clock. Only about thirty minutes wasted out of the remaining time he has with you alone, and then he checks you. Staring. Damn right. 

To you, he looks different.

Not just handsome, or kind of endearing in a loser way. But he actually looks sexy sitting there, with those loose gray sweatpants leaving nothing to the imagination in terms of size, and his exposed torso makes it harder to keep your eyes to yourself.

 His broad shoulders seem to accentuate his neck much more than you imagined considering you never have seen him lounge around like this, and his hair is no longer dented. It’s washed, fresh, and looks fucking good on him. 

Then, his smirk. It’s permanent on that knowing face of his.  

“What are you looking at?” He side eyes you, totally ignoring the pizza because he wasn’t actually hungry. 

He feels a victory welling up in his chest at the way you look at him though, seeing you already get so flustered? So easy. 

“Um,” You pause, tearing your eyes away in embarrassment. “Nothing.” 

He chuckles once in a short breath before stretching himself back against the couch cushions, spreading his legs wide and taking dominance over the space in the room. 

“Didn’t seem like nothing.” He flirts easily, testing the waters of how willing you are to admit that he’s getting his way. “You were checking me out.” 

You face forward now, shifting closer to the arm of the couch and pretending like you can't feel the warmth of the hot water he must have used radiating off of him. 

“Of course not!” You laugh nervously, lunging forward for the remote again. “Why would I check you out?”

Heeseung rolls his eyes at your shitty attempt to lie. 

“Because I took my shirt off for you.” He says, turning his head to look at you with a malicious smirk. “Was that not obvious?” 

You turn to look at him in surprise. Why the fuck would he even say that to you?!

“Do you like me better this way? Half naked?”

“What are you talking about?” You avoid him like your life depends on it, not wanting to admit that you definitely find him more attractive right now than you ever have, and the fact that he’s talking to you like this only further pushes you to want what you can’t have.

“You think I’m hot, don’t you?” He presses, bouncing his leg and keeping his eyes on the way your chest heaves at his words. 

“You want me, don’t you?” He continues pressing, repeating the question in a way that makes you feel forced to agree with him. 

“You’re gonna think about me the next time you–”

“Heeseung!” You shout, turning your entire body towards him with heat searing on your cheekbones. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re dating my sister.” You try to bring both him and yourself back to reality with that statement, more upset internally at the fact that you’re right about it. 

He’s dating your sister and yet, he’s…doing this. To you. And you fucking like it?

“Yeah, no shit.” He laughs you off, looking down at his lap and feeling a twitch at the way you don’t leave the room. Proving in some way that you definitely like it. “And I’m still right, aren’t I? You’re just playing hard to get.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded and utterly shocked by his blatant attempts to come onto you. Unfortunately, you’ve never been in this situation before and your eyes tell on you the same way your body language does. Of course he’s right, and you know you’re doing a terrible job of hiding it.

“Ah, Yeah.” He smiles, watching how you try to keep your eyes on his face but failing. “I’m right.” He continues, lifting his ass just slightly to accentuate the shape of his cock under these sweats for you to get a good eye full. 

You swallow, looking away from him and squeezing your legs together. It feels like such a sudden change of atmosphere. What was once a deniable crush on him becomes a confusing whirlwind wet panties and zero morality.

Does he get off on trying to rile you up? There’s no fucking way he’d actually go through with any of this. He’s just doing it because he thinks it’s cute that you want him. Right? 

You know for a fact that if Jay talked to you this way, you would have let him do whatever he wanted to you. But this is Heeseung. Not Jay, not Jake, not Sunghoon, with their shitty attempts at trying to pull off the exact thing. Oh god, this is bad. This is so bad. 

“I’m going to my room.” You swallow around the thick words, not at all wanting to leave the room solely because your body is giving in instantly to the fact that Heeseung is dirty talking to you for no goddamn reason. 

Perhaps it’s the fact that the one thing your sister has that you shouldn’t ever be able to obtain is doing this. Never did you think a mere idea that he’s attractive would turn into a split second decision of wanting him to fuck you. 

“No, you’re not.” He chuckles, spreading his legs a bit wider now and looking down at his lap, the same exact spot your eyes are looking at. “You’re going to try and keep your eyes on the screen, and we’re going to finish this movie.” 

Safe to say, that was a harder demand to follow than you anticipated and he seemed to fucking love raising his brow at you each time he caught your eye on him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By the time your sister returned home and essentially tamed her boyfriend from acting out any longer, you felt…insane. She tamed him without even knowing that he was acting out, not double-taking at all when she walked in to him spread out and shirtless on the couch with you struggling to watch the movie. You felt his confidence radiating, making the living room feel suffocating and unstable in terms of if you belong there or not. 

You find yourself in your room now, cuddling up in your bed with thoughts ruminating on how you have not one, not two, not three, but four men throwing themselves at you. You don’t recall ever actually giving them the idea that this is okay. Or maybe you did? You’re not sure.

You scroll through your text messages, old friends from back home falling into the background each time you open a message from Jake, or the other two that consistently check in with you like you’re some sort of prize to be won. 

Maybe you want to be a prize for some handsome guy to flaunt though, and you embody all of that confidence you got from, somehow, having the one man you’re not supposed to ever obtain parading around for you.

You embody it to text back. To be bold. To give in to the arousal that just slammed you in the gut, reeling from the very idea that there are men in this world who want to fuck you and you’re about fed up with pretending it’s a lie.

You: are you done with your game? 

You send the same message separately to all three of Heeseung’s friends, and somehow you’re still unaware that they all three share the information with each other in discord. 

“Are you done with your game?” Jake mimics in a feminine tone. “She’s playing with all of us.” 

Jay chuckles through the mic, damning them to be second and third place as he quickly texts back.

Jay: no, but I can be. Why? 

“To be fair, we’re kind of playing with her too.” Sunghoon cuts in, responding in his own way to your text and telling you that he’s bored, that he’s waiting on you to give him a date and time to pick you up, that he’s annoyed with his friends. 

“Well, yeah!” Jake bellows through the muffled mic. “I mean, look at her.”

“Oh, I’ve looked.” Sunghoon smiles at himself before snapping his eyes to the discord and noting how Jay has muted himself. 

“That mother fucker.”

Jake follows suit, noting exactly what Sunghoon is calling out before lending a groan of his own. 

“He’s trying so hard.” He rolls his eyes, knowing for a fact that Jay is probably already mid text-conversation with you.

And he would be right, as you lay against your pillows and let Jay’s conversation overpower the two other unopened texts from his friends. 

You: im a little overwhelmed right now, not sure how to explain it.

Jay: overwhelmed how?

You: well…

You take a second to yourself to breathe, feeling your entire body radiate with a feeling that can only resemble that of want, or perhaps need. You’ve sexted multiple times in your life, but never in a situation where you’re sexting because you’re overwhelmed more than just aroused. 

It’s the fact that you’re bringing it up this time after playing uninterested since any of them started texting you. You’ve dodged Jake’s dick pics, you’ve pushed off the date you agreed to go on with Sunghoon, and you’ve even gone as far as telling Jay you’re not interested at all.

Now though? You can imagine what he’d think of you to see you bring it up. Do you care though? Not that much. After all, you’re single, you’re consumed by the ability to do whatever you want, and Jay’s hot. 

You: im frustrated.

You: REALLY frustrated.…sexually

Jay: oh yeah? for me?

You stare at the screen, sending him an emoji that confirms your words for a third time before swiping away and looking at your inbox of available men. You know who else is hot? Sunghoon. 

You: hey if we went on a date, where would you take me?

Sunghoon: probably a movie or something idk, why? what would you wanna do?

You: id wanna go to your house

Sunghoon: and why is that, cutie?

And as you pick up conversations with both men, reeling from the attention, you think…hmm, you wanna know who else is hot? Jake. 

You: Jakeeeee

Jake: whaaaat :) 

You: remember that dick pic you sent to me then begged me to delete because it was an accident?

Jake: …

You: i didn’t delete it. 

Jake: you like it?

You: maybe. 

And you guess this is who you are now, plotting and setting up some form of sexting situation with three different men, who are all very close friends, who all very much seem to reciprocate your advances.

It’s actually pretty cool, as you lay here reading words from a different man every two minutes. Jay telling you exactly how he could help you with that frustration, Sunghoon asking you to explain what you’d wanna do in his house with him, and then Jake blatantly sending his cock to you again like he has nothing better to do. 

It’s all fun and games until things start to get real heated and you get kind of into it. Focusing on Jay’s little message of, “im helping you out here, you should help me too. send pics.” 

You ask yourself why you consider doing it before swiping away and landing on a video of Jake, face bright and smiling before lowering the camera. Blatantly fucking himself just because you said he had a nice dick. 

Your body is feeling permanent goosebumps because of those two, overwhelming you more than you could have imagined to see just how far they’d be willing to go to try and convince you to do the same for them.

Sunghoon brings a different form of arousal in his inbox though. Far more tame than the others, asking you to push, telling you to say all of the dirty things rather than him. Pushing for a date. 

Sunghoon: keep talking to me like this, ill come get you right now. 

You: not yet, just this for now.

Sunghoon: no pressure, are you touching yourself at least?

You: I am 

Sunghoon: yeah? thinking about me too right? 

You: yea

You’re lying. Kind of. Half-lying, at least, because you are thinking about him but you’re also thinking about Jake, and Jay, and sending nudes, and– Heeseung.

You’re thinking about Heeseung, and only because you can hear the shuffling in the room a wall over. Then? Thumping, right behind you as you lay in your bed. At this moment, you should be able to focus on the men blatantly trying to fuck you, but instead you’re reminding yourself of how Heeseung looked earlier.

And you’re listening. Thumping, thumping, thumping, until you hear–

“Don’t cover your mouth, she’s probably asleep anyway.” You hear Heeseung bellow out in a far-away voice. 

Great. They’re fucking. Just fucking great. Well, now what? You think, as you thumb back and forth between messages with frustration.

Your mind reels as you listen though. Imagining Heeseung more than anything being the force behind those thumps on your wall. His voice almost croaked when he regarded you directly to your sister while fucking her. Why can’t you stop thinking about him? All it took was a single day of marathoning movies?! A single shower?! 

God, you’ve got to seem desperate to be reacting this way. He probably thinks that shit is funny.  And as you now shove your headphones in your ears so as to not hear anymore of it, you stand on your feet and walk to your bathroom. You’re too interested in being fucked now, might as well give the boys something to look at, right?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“She really is trying to get away with it.” Sunghoon says, dumbfounded by the receipts provided by all three boys in their own private group chat.

Without Heeseung. 

“Yeah, but she sent me an ass pic.” Jay boasts, smiling to himself and silently saving the other provided images that you sent to his friends. 

“Whatever, I’m picking her up today for what she wants to call a “date”. She literally said she wanted me to pull her hair.” 

Jake gasps, offended.

“What the fuck? She said she wanted to pull my hair!” He groans. “Why am I the one she thinks would like that?! I have a big dick! I could–”

“Anyway,” Jay cuts him off. “She really is just like her sister. Heeseung doesn’t even know how I’ve seen his precious girlfriend’s pussy, only a matter of time before I’m seeing her little sister’s too.” 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, ignoring Jake’s huffing and puffing as he does his best not to laugh at Jay’s almost victory over your sister. 

“Well, I’m getting the girl this time.” He says, opening his texts and reading through the presumed masturbation session he shared with you last night. “Said she couldn’t wait to see me.” 

“I’m sure she could though.” Jay says, competitive, wanting to win. “You’ll see.”

Sunghoon can sense the competition in the air, knowing that Jay is probably coming up with some lame ass plan to get in your pants before he can even get the chance to pick you up tonight. 

And then there’s Jake.

“You know, maybe she’s right.” He rambles on, thinking hard about how your dynamic with the other two seems to differ greatly from the way you speak to him. “I do have better hair than both of you combined.”

And they stay like that, roasting each other while simultaneously lusting over the same girl until Heeseung gets online and pings them in the regular group chat for a round of gameplay. 

“What’s up, virgins?” Heeseung greets, booting up his game and noting the silence in the voice chat. 

“I said, what’s u–” 

“We heard you.” Sunghoon chimes in, preparing himself for a direct mission of humbling the fuck out of him. “Call me a virgin all you want, doesn’t change the fact that I’m getting my dick wet tonight.” 

“Please.” Heeseung laughs, rolling his eyes as he waits for them to get into the game lobby. “Who would stick your dick in them anyway?” 

“Your girlfriend’s little sister.” Sunghoon announces. 

Excuse me?

“In your dreams.” Heeseung tries to laugh, but is interrupted yet again by his two other friends laughing first. “Wait, you’re serious?” 

Sunghoon hums a confirmation, which leads Heeseung to wonder what the fuck happened in the span of one single night. He could have sworn he had you in the palm of his hand on that couch. He knew you heard how good he fucks your sister. 

There’s no way. 

“Nah, she’s already got a crush on someone else.” He continues to brush Sunghoon off. “And it’s not you.”

“Yeah, because it’s me.” Jay laughs, bombarding Heeseung with another low blow. “Why else would she take her shorts off for me?”

Anger? Yes. Jealousy? Also yes.

“Bullshit.” Heeseung calls out, staring at his discord and the way his friend’s names light up every time they laugh.

 “What are they trying to do, Jake? Spill.”

Jake silences his laughing. 

“Oh, you think he didn’t get nudes too?” Jay laughs harder. “She sent them to all three of us last night. Different pictures too, she wasn’t skimping on the goods, I can tell you that much.”

Heeseung takes a moment to breathe through his nose. “And just why did she send you nudes?”

“I didn’t even ask for them, Hee, honest!” Jake tries to get on his good side. “I guess showing her my dick did something for her though.” That did not get him on Heeseung’s good side. 

“Why the fuck  is she sending you guys nudes?” He asks again, this time slightly raising his voice. 

You should have been sending him nudes to prove your insatiable lust that you must have. Right? Like, why not him? If anyone? 

“Oh, right.” Sunghoon finally reveals the truth. “First person to fuck her wins.” 

“Is that so?” Heeseung leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with narrowed eyes at their stupid usernames. 

Competition is what he’s best at. 

“Yeah.” Sunghoon confirms. “And by the end of the night, I’ll be the winner.” 

“That’s what he thinks, anyway.” Jay snickers. “She’s already texted me a cute little good morning like she didn’t sext three guys last night.” 

“Mhm.” Jake hums into the mic. “Me too.”

Sunghoon tilts his head in confusion at that, now checking his phone and noting that he hasn’t received his own good morning from you yet. Weird. 

“You guys are aware that you can’t do that, right?” Heeseung chimes in, knowing that he’s playing their game now. And he’s good at playing games. “You seriously can’t be trying to rail my girlfriend’s sister.”

“Yeah. We are, actually.” Jay overtakes the conversation. “Besides, she wants it.”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You wake up feeling insanely embarrassed by how you acted like night. 

Tonight’s date with Sunghoon probably won’t happen. There’s no way you can live up to the confidence you showed him. 

You: hey can we raincheck?

Sunghoon: no wtf? 

He reacts negatively, because his victory is now being ripped from his hands by the prize herself. It’s not even just like, the fact that he wants to fuck you just to say he did it before anyone else could. It’s the fact that you’re kind of cool. Incredibly hot, and super willing to slut yourself out. 

Just his type. He loves being able to tame girls and keep them locked between his legs, with his cock in their throat. 

You: sorry i just don’t feel good today, can try this weekend? 

Sunghoon sighs, sending you a short approval before focusing back on the intense game playing out on his screen. 

“She canceled on me.” Sunghoon complains, shooting a player dead between the eyes before crouching and running off to find his next kill of frustration. “Jay, what did you fucking do?”

Jay snorts, smirking on his end of the screen, camping like an asshole in a bathroom and waiting for some unsuspecting dad of six to run by and get his cheeks clapped by some idiot with the username of DADDYJAY02. 

“Told her I’d fuck her real good if she cancels.” He jokes, mostly focused on the current game at hand.

Heeseung is pleased to learn that you’re skipping the date though, leading him to believe that maybe he was right in thinking he’s got you in the palm of his hand. 

Still doesn’t change the fact that you’ve got nudes in your phone. Nudes that you sent to three fucking losers that couldn’t even come close to doing what he could do for you. 

“He’s talking shit. She hasn’t left her room all morning.” Heeseung says. “I already told you guys that she has a crush on someone, and it’s not any of you. So, you can go ahead and kiss your bullshit sex-game goodbye.”

Jake pipes in now, listening to the sheer amount of confidence coming from Heeseung and Jay.

“I dunno.” He breathes, picking people off one by one in his own, less-than-great playstyle. “She’s still texting me and being all cute. Maybe she just thinks you guys are weird.” 

“What did she say?” Heeseung asks, now more focused on what Jake might say rather than the fact that Jay just got downed and needs help. 

“Something about how she feels embarrassed about everything but likes talking to me, heart emoji and all.” He says in a nonchalant tone, now being downed himself in game. “Me and Jay are down.”

“Stay down then.” Heeseung scoffs, ignoring both dying friends as he focuses on the win. 

“Dude, fucking pick me up.” Jay now argues, throwing his hands up at the gameplay, watching Heeseung blatantly run straight past him. “Heeseung! Pick me the fuck up!” 

He snickers in response. 

“Stop trying to fuck her and I’ll pick you up.” 

“I’d rather die.” Jay argues back, accepting his in-game death and instead pulling his phone out to text you. “In fact, I’ll text her right now.”

Sunghoon, listening to the chaos and still neck-to-neck in terms of kills with Heeseung, tries to ignore the fact that he’s losing the only game he cares about winning right now. 

“All three of you are starting to get annoying.” Sunghoon mumbles into the microphone, killing the last remaining player and stretching his arms out in a sigh.

“You’re just mad because she’s ghosting you for me.” Jake sings out happily.

Heeseung listens, seething in his head about how they’re really just gonna keep doing this shit and decides, fine. 

He’s already playing the game they’re playing. He’s been playing it for much longer, actually, with those panties he took from your dresser when he built it. With the way he placed your bed against the same wall his bed is against, just so you could listen and suffer for his cock to stuff you full instead. 

If it’s a fucking competition they want, they’re gonna get it. 

And with that? He logs off without so much as a goodbye before heading to his bathroom. For the first time in years caring more and more about how he dresses and carries himself just to see you want him. 

He styles his hair, brushes his teeth, perfects his hair with the hood up on his hoodie, and then heads straight to your room. 

“Hey, Sunghoon said he’s supposed to be going on a date with you tonight.” He says as soon as he gets to your door.

You look panicked.

“Oh, he told you?” You say, avoiding eye contact with him because goddamn does he look good today but also, what the fuck Sunghoon?! 

“Yeah.” He answers in a less than entertained tone. 

“Did he–” You pause, now looking at him and his stupid attractive stance against your door. “–say anything else?” 

“Oh, he told me all about it.” He admits to you now, loving the way you curl into your own embarrassment. “I did warn you, you know.”

You blink at him, wanting to hide from the entire situation. Especially because the only reason you went for his friends was because he got you all choked up. 

“Still, I thought you’d tame yourself a little bit. I mean– Jay too? Really?” Heeseung starts to pick you apart with the information he’s learned today. “And Jake?”

You groan out, covering your face with both hands. 

“God, I don’t know what I was thinking.” You try to explain. “I just–”

“You were wet.” He answers for you, smiling at the way you try to run from the truth. “So wet for me that you ran to my friends?” 

Only now do you move your hands from your face and look at him. Shocked that he got straight to the point, and is entirely correct.

“You got their hopes up, you know.” He continues, taking control of the situation as he crosses his arms and leans his head back and against your doorframe. “Right after getting my hopes up.” 

“What are you–” 

“You know what I’m talking about, and you know exactly what I’m doing.” He cuts you off, speaking for you, thinking for you, not letting you get a word in to doubt a single thing he’s saying. “You know what you’re doing too. So, look at me next time I come in here and call you out on your bullshit.”

Your eyes stay on him, full of embarrassment and a sense of guilt. You feel scolded, which is so fucking wrong and weird for it to come from him of all people. 

“Time to stop pretending now, babe. If you want this–” He says, looking down between his legs and grabbing his bulge. “You’ll stay away from my friends.” 

And then he just…leaves with a smile? Doesn’t even let you respond? 

“I’m going to the store, we don’t have shit to eat in this house.” You hear him complain as he walks down the hallway, acting as if he didn’t just word-fuck you with the truth that you weren’t quite ready to accept. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’re losing it. Truly, you’re losing every ability in your body to ignore the fact that you not only think about Heeseung in ways you shouldn’t, you want him in ways that should be a fucking crime.

Seeing him grab himself like that in your doorway? Fuck, if he hadn’t of walked away right after, you very well may have found yourself with your ankles up by your ears, begging him to use it on you. 

No self restraint at this point, and you don’t even care. 

Your phone is long forgotten as you pace your room, wondering if you should leave the house too, just to find a sex shop that has a Heeseung sized and shaped cock for you to fuck yourself on in order to get this intense feeling of need out of you. 

That’s really all it took for him to make you go fucking feral for it? A little bit of flirting? A little bit threatening? A grab of his cock, practically dangling it in front of you like the two of you are allowed to be having those kinds of moments together? 

Fuck him for knowing how to get you horny more than you know how to do it yourself. Since when did you like men to act that way towards you? Since fucking when did you get off on a boyfriend that your sister intends to fucking marry?!

It’s so fucked up, and it’s equally fucking hot to you because it’s fucked up. 

Out of everything your sister has that you don’t, Heeseung is the one you want most. And he’s just fucking…he’s just–

God damn it. You sigh, pacing back and forth, checking the time on your phone and ignoring all of your unread texts. Heeseung has only been gone for a total of ten minutes and it feels like you’ve been pacing for hours.

Throbbing between your legs at the small glimpses of his size under whatever pants he wears. With his hair, and his skin, and his stupid, shit-eating smirk that he throws at you. Telling you he knows. Showing you that he likes it. 

You stop your pacing for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut tight to try and flutter the images of him out of your head. Trying to get the reality to come back to you. 

What’s fucked up is that it is reality that he’s doing this to you. You can’t avoid it like it’s a guilty little wet dream you’d be able to hide. 

It’s real.

And, well, fuck it. You love your sister just as much as you always have, even as you want to fuck her boyfriend. Even as her boyfriend seemingly wants to fuck you.

Even as you leave your room, entering their room for the first time. 

Even as you inspect their bed, the placement suspiciously right on the other side of your own bed against the wall. 

Even as you smell the familiar scent of Heeseung on one of the pillows and instantly throw yourself on the bed against it, shoving it between your legs in a desperate and obvious show of how much you really, really, fucking want it. 

And if this is what it feels like to lose your fucking mind? So be it. 

His pillow is soft, offering little pressure to your clit as you writhe against it, but you moan louder than you ever have while pleasuring yourself. For once, the house is empty and for once, you have a point of arousal that doesn’t involve porn.

Your mind falls into images of him, and the way he moves his body during every day instances. Then, to the way he sounded when he fucked your sister in this very same bed. He must fuck hard, because that consistent thumping on your wall seemed to prove it already. 

Fuck, you hope he fucks hard. 

You saw the outline of it a few times by now too, so big even while flaccid and uninterested in you. He must know how to contain himself too. Real calm, real collected when it comes to how he’d probably use it. 

The images swim up and down behind your eyes as you writhe your clit against the corner of his pillow for what feels like ages, knowing your panties are being pushed into the folds of your wet core, feeling your shorts skew as you move, back and forth, stretching with each grind forward. 

You’re aware that parts of your pussy are out in the open between grinds, feeling the soft material of his pillow rub you only slightly raw with the force of your movements, and you simply don’t care. You’re home alone, remember? 

Wait. How long have you been doing this again?

“Oh, fuck yeah.” You hear from behind you, startling you into a defensive position of curling around the pillow. “Bumping it real good, weren’t you? Right up on my pillow?” Heeseung laughs, standing just inside of the room with a step much quieter than he’d normally have when he’s walking around. 

“Fuck, that’s so gross.”  He snickers with hooded eyes and a triumphant smirk as he crosses his arms. 

“You really thought I wouldn’t find out? Like I wouldn’t be able to smell it? I smelled you when I walked in.”

God, the fucking horror that replaces the arousal hits you harder than you ever knew it could as you jump to your feet on buckled knees and try to mutter out an apology.

“I’m sorry.” 

He just said you were gross. He said he could smell you while scrunching his nose. 

“I’m sorry, Heeseung, I’m sorry.” You continue, trying to make your way past him ultimately so you can lock yourself in your bedroom to never come out. 

“Hmm, what makes you think you could just come in here and fuck my things?” He isn’t going to let you go that easy, of course he isn’t.

The thing about him is, he knows he’s got you now. That little sex bet going with his friends? They’re done for.

 Full control of the whole situation is right here in the palm of his hand, and the proof is that embarrassing wet spot you left on his pillow. This was all he needed. You made him chase, and he’ll be damned if he gives you what you want now so easily. 

It’s your turn to ache with the same feeling between your legs. You’re going to be fucking gone by the time he finally gives it to you. 

“I thought y–” You try to explain, not looking him in the eye when he holds you in place by the arm from leaving. 

“Thought I wanted you over her?” He mutters to you in a hot whisper, pulling you back and against him, dipping his head and chasing your line of sight to force you to look at him. “Oh my god, how sad.” 

You try look away, entirely confused, embarrassed, fucking ashamed. 

Never have you let guilt take you over like this because you’ve never allowed yourself to be in a position to feel so goddamn stupid.

He’s going to tell her what you did. You might as well go pack your shit now and get ready to go back home because this was not okay. 

“I’m sorry. I misread…” You’re being forced to look at him, but you still keep your eyes on the bottom of his chin rather than his eyes, feeling his hands squeeze you, not at all noticing how rock fucking hard he is due to the sheer terror you feel at this moment.

“Mm, no you didn’t.” He explains, eyes scanning over your flushed face, tears prickling in your eyes. 

And once again, fucking confusion. The weight of guilt lifts off of you at his words, allowing you to look him straight in the eyes this time. Urging him to tell you that he does want you. That everything you thought previously was true.

That he was trying to come onto you. 

“You were throwing your legs open for just anyone.” He lands the blow harshly, with his breath hitting you square in the forehead. “I just wanted to see if you were really as slutty as Jay said you were.”

A direct blow to any confidence you ever could have had walking around this house. 

You fell for it. Your sister is dating a piece of shit, and somehow you still find him so attractive. You still wish he was lying. 

You still wish he liked you, or wanted you on some level.

“God, such a cry baby too.” He rolls his eyes now, breathing in deep before releasing his hold on you. “Go cry in your room, I’m sure you still have an orgasm to get, don’t you?” 

You refuse the eye contact again as you try to walk away in a way that you wish could make you disappear. He’s making damn sure to shame you straight into the dirt, and it makes you feel so unclean. 

“Don’t you?” He repeats with a louder voice as you walk away, stepping into your room, and closing the door behind you.

Yeah, you’re still probably going to get that orgasm. He knows it. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Heeseung is a nightmare to be around. You’re annoyed that you didn’t notice it before and actually wanted to be around him before that mishap with his pillow. 

You can’t read him. 

When your sister is home, he ignores you for the most part. He spends his time on his PC yelling with friends, he scoffs at you, looks at you like you look and sound ridiculous any time you say something, yet, when he’s with your sister, he’s so, so, loving. 

All over her, really. Hands on her waist, back, thighs, ass. He’s so sexual with her in front of you, to the point that you can’t make eye contact at all with either of them. 

To the point that you miss it every time when he checks to see if you’re watching. 

What’s worse about Heeseung is that you think now that he has no interest in you. Everything he did really was for an ego boost, or like some shitty game he was playing. It got to the point that, yeah, you’re sexting at least one of his friends as often as possible despite never giving them a reason to come over, and certainly not going to see them yourself. 

It’s like a bandaid as you lay in your bed night after night listening to Heeseung on the other side of the wall draw you into a state of lust, pining, and absent passion. So vocal, when he’s fucking her.  You always feel alone when he does it, with your fingers slamming away and offering pleasure that never gets you there. You always come up short, never being able to get off. 

Even with all of that, he still flirts.

Which fucks you up even more. He’ll make you feel so awful about everything that’s happened, everything you actively say or do, and then turn around and smile at you when your sister is at work. 

He’ll offer to make dinner for you. He’ll do your laundry and fold it, always mixing his clothes into the pile by accident. He’ll touch your waist. He’ll brush his hand past yours when he catches you in the hallway while walking by. 

When you try to flirt back, or look at him for too long though? Hope in your eyes and weight lifting from your shoulders at his hidden actions? He shuts you down instantly. 

Like this morning, when you left your room and went to the kitchen to make coffee, he was already there. He came up behind you real close, rubbing what you presume to be his soft dick against your ass as he lifted and grabbed the filters down for you. 

And when you choked up and looked at him? He could see that little glint of hope in your eyes.

“I was just helping. Jesus christ, you’re more needy than your sister.” 

Or that time yesterday, when you were lounging on the couch and he came out after a shower in those same fucking sweat pants, without a shirt again, and sat down next to you. Spreading his legs wide, smirking, and watching you try to avoid his eyes. 

“Can’t even look at me without getting wet, huh?” 

Safe to say, Heeseung is playing the game with his friends a little too hard. Knowing that at any point during the day if he wanted to push you to the floor and take you, he fucking could. 

So that leaves you now, sitting here feeling about as crazy as you did the day you ran into his room and started fucking his pillow. Every day is felt with sexual frustration that you don’t know what to do with, even sexting his friends, even receiving their videos and hot words, even with their promises of multiple orgasms and hour long sessions of head, your frustration isn’t satiated.

You worry it never will be if Heeseung doesn’t move out, or like, fall out a window or something.

And as you leave your room to go back to the kitchen for a snack, of course you note the open door of the office that is far too silent compared to thirty minutes earlier. 

Of course, Heeseung has trained you to be entirely too curious about what he’s doing at all times when the two of you are alone.

Of course, you don’t turn and walk away the moment you see his back turned, shoulder moving, and a brightly colored hentai flashing across his monitor. 

In fact, you stand there solely because you can’t deny yourself of this.

“Was wondering if you’d come in here.” He mutters through a breath, turning his face for a moment before pumping his hand harder. “S’only fair that I let you watch too, right?”

He’s bringing up the pillow incident. Again. Like he hasn’t brought it up a million times since it happened as a form of shaming you. Telling you how it smelled, laughing and asking how many times you planned to do it behind his back. 

You’re still frozen though, coming to terms with the fact that he could call you an ugly whore and you’d probably accept it at face value just to watch the very scene in front of you.

Are you selfish or are you just desperate? 

Maybe a bit of both.

“Come over here.” He says to your silence, now swiveling his chair around and ignoring the animated fuck-fest on screen. 

You take in an inhale, trying not to show it by looking away from him, but ultimately failing when your eyes fall straight to where his hand is in his pants. The tent created by the sheer size of him leaving far too much for you to think about. 

Anyone in this situation would call him a loser. Jerking it to hentai? Looking the way he does? Being unemployed and doing this at like, eleven in the morning? You can tell he hasn’t slept too, and that’s entirely something a simp would do. Something a virgin would do.

But, you want him. You’ve never been so attracted to someone, actually. He sees you swallow at the image too, smirking and stilling his hand. 

“Shit, you’re really just going to watch me?” 

Yeah. You figured that was obvious to him, considering he already thinks you’re gross, embarrassing, and shameless. It’s not like you not watching at this point would change his mind about you. 

So, you just stand there, watching, waiting.

Until he gives you a breathless chuckle and a shake of his head. 

“Come on, get a better look then.” He encourages you through a soft moan, sliding his fingers on the underside of his length, feeling the pre-cum drip out. 

There it is again. Him acting interested. 

It’s really the worst because you give in every single time, clinging to the hope that maybe he really is interested this time, only to be shot down time and time again. 

Right now is no different from the countless other times he’s flirted just to laugh at you trying to flirt back. Even as you walk towards him with shaking hands gripping the bottom of your own shirt for comfort, you know he’s probably just going to pull his hand out of his pants and probably present a very large cucumber or something before laughing at the fact that you really thought. 

Except, he doesn’t do that. 

You can see the wet spot at the top of the tent his cock creates, right where the head rubs up against the fabric and it proves that he’s really touching himself right now.

“Lower.” He instructs under hooded eyes, head leaned back against his chair, body slouched and relaxed. “On the floor.”

Ah, the fucking power he has is electrifying. You really just do everything he says in the hopes that someday, he’ll put it in you. In the hopes that someday, he will show you what it is that your sister loves so much about him. 

The way you do lower yourself to your knees on his floor, sitting right there in front of him with your eyes glued to the hidden act of what he’s doing to himself? God, you’re dirty.

He chews on his lower lip as he works himself up to the image of you simply on your knees, gripping your shirt like it’s the only thing holding you from falling off of the earth. So pretty, so complacent, so willing. 

Fuck, he knows his friends want you and he can imagine that they must furiously get off to this very image themselves, thought up all by themselves. Except they’ve actually seen your body, Heeseung hasn’t seen shit.

“Take it off.” He says through a breath, the words shaking with each pump of his fist as he tries to stimulate the whole length of his cock without pulling it out. 

It’s a tight fit in his pants right now, but he isn’t going to show you a damn thing. 

You blink up at him, your eyes shining and bright at the fact that you’re fine not seeing it. You seem totally satisfied just watching him pleasure himself. 

Oh god, you’re fucking perfect. 

Even more perfect when you do remove your shirt, tits sitting nice and naked for him to stare at harder. Big. Plush. Prettier than the ones that are drawn to perfection by horny men on his screen just to the side of him. Prettier than your sister’s, even. 

“Ah, yeah.” He comments, hand pumping faster, cock leaking more. “Just sit right there and look pretty for me.”

And, you do. Hands now pressed into the carpet beneath you, gripping the texture much like you did your shirt just to press your tits together for him. Just so he wants you right now, even if he won’t ten minutes from now. 

He really does just watch you too. The image of you alone like this seemingly just enough to get him there when you notice his head slam back against the headrest of his chair again.

Bottom lip bitten, eyebrows raised, a held breath, and then he’s releasing that same breath along with his cum. All into his hand and against his pants as he pumps harder through the sensitivity of his orgasm. 

Eyes falling back to you, darker this time, he smirks as he slides his hand from his pants, careful not to lose any of that thick, milky, cum, and tipping his fingers at you. 

“Ahh-” He opens his mouth, speaking to you as if he’s feeding you a snack, and for some reason, you mimic it.

Your mouth opens as you lean forward and he slips his fingers in, relishing in the feeling of your frantic tongue licking up the taste of him.

So desperate, god, you want it so bad and he can see it.

He can feel it. 

And by the time you’ve licked his fingers clean, eyes tearing up because you know he’s about to mock you for how much you loved the taste of it, he pulls his hand back and says nothing.

He doesn’t even smile at you when he stands up, staring down at you like he owns you. 

You’re just sitting on the floor shirtless, avoiding his eye contact and preparing for whatever fucked up thing he wants to say about it, salty sweet remnants of his flavor in your mouth, and near tears in your eyes. 

“You really did that.”  He says before stepping to the side of you and heading for the door. “Swallowed all of it too.”

You did, and of course you’re ashamed despite sitting here wet and aching. You nod as you stare at the floor in shame, hands clasped in your lap.

“Good girl.” He breathes out to you before leaving for the bathroom, not another word muttered to you.

And as Heeseung stands looking at himself in the mirror, chest heaving as he reels from what just took place, he smiles. God, the horror you must feel right now. If you knew how much he liked this and how willing you were to take what you can get, you’d probably be the happiest girl alive. 

You’re so willing to feel ashamed, so willing to be shamed, just to look at him? Just to see him do this? Just to suck all of his cum off of his fingers? 

You’re fucking crazy. 

If you knew how he silently jerked off, breathing in that pillow you had against your pussy, you’d probably orgasm on the spot. If you fucking knew how he stole your panties the very day you moved in, you’d probably give him the ones you’re wearing now just to please him. 

Ah, so perfect. It’s only a matter of time now.

Only a matter of time before he wins and shuts his friends up for fucking good, because honestly, it’s getting old now to hear his friends pretend they have a shot at this with you.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Living with your sister became something you never meant for it to be. You’re not living with her, you’re living with fucking guilt, and confusion, and insatiable lust for the man she’s supposed to be pleasing every night. 

In fact, the amount you see her is far less than you originally thought. She works so much, and when she’s not working overtime just to come home and love on her asshole of a boyfriend, and tell you sweet goodnights like you didn’t eat his cum off his fingers, she’s sleeping away the exhaustion of being the only good person in this house. 

Unfortunately for her though, you don’t care.

You appreciate the freedom she’s given to you on a silver platter, with a nice new bedroom suite and good food in the fridge, but you know she didn’t bring you here with the intention of giving you this much freedom.

She gave you the ability to fuck and be fucked whenever and where ever you want, but the choice wasn’t meant to be Heeseung. With his ever changing moods, annoying gamer rage, and disconcerting need to flirt and shame you. 

You can’t believe you’re sitting here across from her before yet another one of her shifts, drinking the same juice, eating the same breakfast, pretending like you haven’t tasted the same cum she has. 

You can’t believe that while growing up, you always shared her stuff against her will. She hated finding you wearing one of her favorite tops, or her new pairs of shoes. She would get so mad and all you can think now is that, surely she would kill you if she found out what else you’ve used behind her back.

And when you watch Heeseung kiss her goodbye, he seems all too entertained with the situation. Watching you pretend like you don’t want him, watching your sister be blissfully unaware of who his dick twitches for.

  Watching, watching, watching. 

Staring, really, at you through the kiss. Up until she leaves for the day and you’re left staring back at him. Heeseung lends you a small wave with an uncaring face, wiggling the same fingers he fucked your mouth with in your face, almost seeming like he’s attempting to lure you to open those same lips again for him.

Almost as if to remind you that you’re pathetic. 

And goddammit. You fucking are.

That’s why, of course, you’ve found yourself time and time again in these same text messages. Fully guilty of leading these guys on but not nearly as guilty as you feel each time you show how bad you need it to the one man who doesn’t deserve it. 

Jay, if he could, would probably fuck you right on the doorstep by this point with the amount of nudes, phone calls, and blatant shows of sexual interest. You can sense how annoyed he is with cumming all by himself using your photos, but like, that’s very attractive of him to wait.

Sunghoon? So frustrated with you for never following up with him, but entirely willing to fuck you with his dirty words and images of what he’d love to do if you’d just get the fuck out of the house for a day.

And Jake, ah, Jake. The cutest. One you’d take all of this frustration out on, the one who would probably apologize to you for everything bad that’s ever happened to you mid-orgasm solely because he wouldn’t know what else to say or do when he’s feeling so good.

Sexting any of them, or all of them, is really your only relief from the man who looms around this house. But at this point, even that is doing nothing for you.

Even as you read Jay’s texts, knowing he’s actively playing video games at the same time and not jerking off like he claims. 

Jay: take a new one, i want more material 

You: you’re not even touching yourself, you know I can hear heeseung yell at you right?

Jay: what? you think I can’t multitask? 

You: is that why he’s yelling then? 

Jay: one handing it and still got more kills than him, yea

God, he’s too confident while being such a fucking loser, but yeah, you’ll send him a new picture. You’ll go ahead and send it to Jake too. And Sunghoon, of course.

Then you pause with your fingers on the screen, zooming in on your body and checking it. Only half wondering what would happen if you took a pussy picture. Only half thinking of sending it to Heeseung. Not the other three, just him.

Half wondering turns to full wondering, as you listen to him yell something about Jay going down again mid match, proving that he probably was, in fact, fucking his fist mid-game and absolutely not getting more kills.

Heeseung’s voice sounds so full of anger. So loud, cracking in pitch even. It’s hard to imagine someone sounding so stupid being able to act in a way that’s made you feel so lost and ashamed of wanting him. 

Yet, he did. And that’s why you decide right at this moment, you’ll always give in to his flirting even while knowing he’ll mock you and make fun of you for it. You’ve already dealt with it to the point that you’re used to it. At least you still get something out of it, right? 

At least, maybe, he’ll give you something else to feel ashamed of today, right? 

And as you take that photo, lying back on your bed, shifting your panties to the side and spreading your lips open for the camera, you snap a photo of your hole for him. Right there, already wet just imagining him thinking you’re pathetic for doing this. 

At this point, you’re not feeling too ashamed of it right now. After all, he jerked off looking at you like there wasn’t at least three holes being fucked and filled on the screen behind him before. So…

You send the photo to him, ignoring the displayed message from Jay stating, “you only sent this one to me, right?” 

And then you wait. 

And you wait.

And wait.

You can still hear Heeseung yelling his gaming talk, but you watch his text messages like a hawk. Feeling nervous, terrified, embarrassed, shamed, turned on, curious, wet.

Each time he’s silent, you stare at the messages, up until you notice that he’s opened it. 

He saw it.

You wait for footsteps, you wait to hear him tell his friends that he’ll be back. You wait for him to stomp in here and call you gross. 

And you wait more.

And more. 

Up until you can’t wait any longer and you find yourself shifting up and off of your bed, leaving your phone behind as you make your way to the office. He’s facing away from you as usual, the character on screen on a swivel as the scope of the gun searches for a head to shoot, and then– his phone.

Right there beside him, open, the image pulled up. 

“What are you trying to do?” He says, but you can’t tell if it’s for you or his friends. 

You stand there, pussy looking much the same as it was in that photo, except now with your shorts back on you, and panties back in place. 

“Trying to fuck me over right now?” He continues when a kill screen shows up and he’s got a few seconds to lift his hand from the mouse. Not even looking at you, he beckons you with two fingers and pushes his chair back just slightly.

By the time you get up beside him, he puts his fingers over his mouth, glancing up at you, then down at his phone and tapping it. Immediately after tapping, he points to the floor in front of him, scooting back more to make room for you.

The silent conversation is loud as he narrows his eyes at you when you sink to your knees on the floor in front of him. You crawl under the desk, legs quivering at the idea that he’s absolutely ignoring you, but also inviting you. 

As if he’s feeding you what you want. As if he doesn’t need this too. 

And maybe he doesn’t, you think, as you carefully reach forward to his knees, feeling him push his chair in and trap you under the desk. He doesn’t look hard, proving that he’s simply allowing you to quench your thirst for his cum, surely. 

Allowing you to be pathetic. 

Allowing you to see it. 

And finally, you do. He’s even polite enough to lift his ass up a bit just to let you pull his sweats down to get it out. Slowly growing at the feeling of your breath against it. 

You breathe deeply before you press your lips against it instantly, darting your tongue out curiously and closing your eyes to relish in the first taste of his skin. It’s a clean taste, and despite him not being fully hard for this just yet, it only drives you to do better, to do more, until he actually wants you to do this for him, not just for you. 

You could argue that it seemed much bigger when he was jerking it off in front of you, then again, he’s still not fully hard yet. 

It actually hurts your feelings that you’re the one needing to get him horny right now. After all, you are clearly hungry for it, not him.

And you take him into your mouth again, and again, feeling him stiffen by the second. Still, his focus isn’t on you or what you’re doing down here. 

Until it is, anyway. 

By this point, you’re actually struggling to take him into your mouth, and you can argue he’s only at half-girth as you try. The top of your head bumps his desk every few seconds, which forces you to keep him in your mouth. 

Kind of terrifying actually, to have put something in your mouth so readily only to regret the fact that his cock is essentially locked in by the small pace you’re trapped in, and it’s only swelling up more and more by the second. 

Hardening until your throat is constricting around it, forcing you to gag and search for breath.

It’s hard to breathe as you cough and drool around him, frantically trying to pull off of him and hitting your head hard against the desk when you do.

He fucking chuckles at it before you feel his hand slip under the desk with you and grab his now fully hard cock. What does he do with it? He fucking slaps it straight across your face before forcing it right back between your lips. 

You hate to say how wet that made you, and you hate even more to say that you kind of like the feeling of your throat getting bruised. Willing yourself to gag around him again, trying to twitch your tongue against the weight of his far too big length in your mouth. 

You don’t want him to laugh though, you want him to fucking moan. All for his friends to hear. After all, it’s the first time you’re going down on him and it’ll probably be the last time too, right?

Not to mention, you’ve barely had experiencing sucking dick as it is, he should he fucking helping you get through this.

But he’s not. He’s just…playing his fucking game. Hell, the twitches of his length against your gag reflex is probably more for the kill he gets rather than the way your dripping spit all over and down his balls. 

This is embarrassing, and yet– you love it. You fucking adore it, with the way your clit aches just at the thought that he’s letting you put your mouth on him at all.

Maybe it really is for you, and not for him. 

“Ah, fuck.” Heeseung groans, probably more to his game than to you.

His hand shoots under the table, right to the top of your head as his other balances himself on the seat of his chair. There, he holds your head down on him and angles his hips just slightly to fuck up. Gaging you repeatedly, holding back his own moans at the way you’re just going to let him use you like this.

And as quickly as it happened, that short grunt from him not going unnoticed, he’s drawing his hands back above his desk, relaxing his body, and giving back the control. 

Already, you can hear his fingers against the keyboard again.

“Back in the game, Jay, to the right!” He shouts, showing you that he absolutely just fucked your face because he got fucking downed in the game. 

And you continue, trying to give him that same feeling that he forced on you just now, and never quite getting the same force behind your lips or tongue for him. His cock is throbbing though, choking you with each dribble and spurt of precum, up until he’s pulling the same trick.

Fucking up, holding your throat down on him, for just a bit until he’s back in the game and playing.

This happens for what feels like forever. To the point that surely, you’re drenching the carpet under you, and you’re starting to feel insecure in the fact that he hasn’t cum yet. Are you really just…bad at giving head?

Heeseung’s legs shift as you continue, slowing your pace and trying to rub your jaw through it with your free hand that’s not gripping the fabric of his lowered sweats. You do this up until his cock is suddenly sliding further and further out of your throat when he rolls his chair back. 

Ah. 

Oh.

Oh, my god. You think, getting the first glimpse of his face since you started. Blown out pupils staring down under his desk, hair a mess, mic right up against his smirking lips. 

He looks…like he enjoyed it? Maybe? Are you getting ahead of yourself?

“You want more?” He asks, straight into the mic and confusing his friends. “I can see how much you want it, baby, come on. I’ll give it to you.”

You stare up at him, pretending that when you crawl out from under the desk and try to stand, you can’t hear the way he turns up the volume of his friends responding in confusion. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You hear the familiar voice of Sunghoon. “If you’re gonna fuck your girlfriend, at least mute yourself, dick.” 

You nervously glance to his game that’s still full screened. You knew he was gaming with his friends since this morning, but for him to talk to you like this as if they can’t hear him? 

“They’ll want to hear you.” He comments now, alerting his friends that he’s obviously not talking to them. “Trust me, they don’t fucking shut up about you.” 

That’s when they realize.

“No fucking way.” Jake blurts. “There’s no way.”

Jay remains silent, staring at his unanswered text message before minimizing his game and dropping his mouth in surprise.

“Come on then, you already let me fuck that pretty mouth, might as well, right?” He says to you again, this time lifting his hips and tapping his desk. “Bend over for me.” 

What you think is just an unmuted mic, unfortunately, is much, much more than that. You see, Heeseung likes to stream to his friends, back and behind his full screened game was the image of him suffering through your need to deep throat him half to death.

He remained calm, at first not exactly wanting his friends to know. Not wanting them to see you like this, and most certainly not wanting them to have any images of you to get off to. But now? Oh, to win their own game in front of them? 

‘Fuck, look at that.” He says, watching you take the spot in front of him and bend over his desk, keyboard buttons pressing in and glitching the screen out momentarily due to your tits lying against it. “Now look up.” He instructs. 

“No. Fucking. Way.” Jake blurts again once he minimized his game and instantly saw you on the camera, looking so out of it, so unaware. “Sunghoon, are you seeing this?”

Jay was still watching with his mouth agape, cock leaking as it always does for you except now?  It’s the fact that Heeseung is really just gonna do something so awful to your sister? He’s really  going to fuck you right here, right now? With proof?!

“Heeseung, don’t.” Sunghoon warns, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen in front of him. 

“Don’t what? Sunghoon?” Heeseung smiles as he reaches his hands around the front of you, pulling you back by groping both of your tits. “Fuck your girl in front of you?”

You just listen, shocked that Sunghoon is actually asking Heeseung to stop. Shocked that they apparently have beef or something, over you? Surely not. 

“No–” Sunghoon chokes back. “Don’t turn off the camera.” 

“Camera?!” You panic, trying to break free of his grip on your chest, but he holds you there, pressing you closer with your back to his chest, his cock throbbing under your thigh. 

“What? Now you have an issue with cameras?” Heeseung seethes sarcastic words into your hair, squeezing your tits harder now. “Relax, baby, I know they’ve already seen you like this.” 

“Right?” Heeseung now directs his attention to the screen, lunging forward to quickly minimize the full-screened game, getting a good look at his friends and you in the camera against him. 

The image is wildly attractive to him for many reasons. For one, he can see himself on the screen with his point of desire sitting right here on his lap. Secondly, his friends are awestruck by what he gets to have right now. Shamelessly watching, biting their words back, taking in deep breaths. And lastly, he can tell that everyone on camera right now either wants to be him or be fucked by him.

What’s not to love about this? 

And Heeseung is quick when he flashes his eyes away from each of his friends, straight to you in the camera, watching you avoid looking at the screen. He moves one hand from your chest, pushes his chair back, and immediately cups between your legs. 

“You show them this too, or was that just for me?”

You shake your head at Heeseung, reeling with embarrassment and arousal as you try to squeeze your legs closed around his hand. You feel choked up, throat sore, legs buckled, clit throbbing for him to dig his palm against it.

“Mm, you see that Jay?” Heeseung moves his eyes to his friend on screen. “Couldn’t even get her to show her pussy for you?” 

Jay appears entirely tuned into the situation, eyebrows sitting furrowed and focused on you. God, if only he focused that much in game, Heeseung thinks he could probably out rank him if he wanted to. 

“Jake?” Heeseung trails to his other friend, making sure each and every one of them hears and sees exactly what he’s doing. 

Your eyes follow the names Heeseung calls out. Shyly, somewhat dazed. Tearing your eyes from Jay was already hard enough as is. After all, seeing his blatant attraction to you right there, in front of everyone? Maybe you should have let him hit, even just once because damn. It’s almost pitiful, that look in his eye as he watches you. 

Jake on the other hand? You can tell he lets his hair fall partly in front of his eyes but he smiles to himself while watching. Something about seeing him like this makes you feel like you’ve just experienced extreme whiplash. It embarrasses you more knowing that you figured Jake was too inexperienced to know how to fuck a girl. He was too sweet. 

Too soft.

Too different from his friends.

As you look at him now though, you realize he isn’t different at all. In fact, he might have been more full of shit than any of the others as you stare at his wicked eyes and nod of approval at Heeseung. 

Hell, he’s even the one who mutters out a small, “Show us her tits.” 

The only reason Heeseung does as Jake asked is because he can’t help but relish in the look on their faces of seeing what they could have had, but now never will. To see them lose. To witness him win. 

They’re pathetic. Truly, when he drags your shirt up your belly and over your chest. Already braless, of course. And honestly, you’re shocked that they all react this way like you didn’t just send them tit pics but– 

This is more embarrassing somehow. Four pairs of eyes are on you and only one pair of hands. You want all of their hands. 

“I fucking knew you’d let me do this.” Heeseung chuckles against your ear, cupping his hands under your tits and presenting them to his friends. Bouncing them, rubbing them, pulling on both nipples before releasing them and letting your tits fall into their natural position. “Knew you were a slut the moment I saw the kind of panties you had hidden in that suitcase of yours.” 

You glance away from the camera now, knowing Heeseung is right with his words. 

“You should be fighting me, not dripping that pretty pussy all over me. Am I wrong?” 

You should be fighting. You shouldn’t be okay with this moment being broadcasted to three different people that you’ve been leading on. And yeah, you should hate him for all of the confusion and mental anguish he put you through. 

Yet, the arousal you have for him outweighs all of it. The arousal you have for this situation in general outweighs any shame you could feel, or the shame that comes after it. 

Being wanted like this by four men who you find incredibly attractive? 

“What more could a girl want?” You murmur in a hushed tone, rolling your hips just slightly on his lap, letting him feel the warmth of you seep into his sweatpants. His cock still hard and raging from your previous actions of choking on him.

Those words shock him as his eyes glance to the screen, noting how you’re writhing your body on him, totally shameless, totally fucking perfect with your tits out and on display, only pushing for more. It’s the fact that he fucking forgot he had his head set on for a moment and didn’t even catch that you whispered that shit straight into his mic. 

He only realized it when he saw three faces on screen drop to a slack jawed expression and Sunghoon immediately leaned forward with a groan of “spread her legs.” 

On any other day, for Heeseung, Jake, or Jay, seeing Sunghoon clearly push his pants down his thighs off camera would make them recoil and make fun of him. But they’re not right now, because the focus isn’t on any of the cocks being openly hard in this shared online space. 

The focus is on you, and the way Heeseung absolutely spreads your legs and pushes your knees up by the thighs so that the flat of your feet are resting on his knees. There, he drops his hands from your tits and reaches around you, rubbing the line of your shorts on the insides of your thighs just enough that glimpses of your panties flash every few seconds. 

From back here, the camera offers Heeseung the same view but it hits him differently because he’s the one doing it. He’s got his head resting on your shoulder as he watches, noting how you lean your head back against his own shoulder and breathe through his guided touches. 

“Look at yourself.” He turns his head to whisper right against your cheek. “You’d let us all take a turn, hm? Wouldn’t even know which dick is in you.”

Your eyes open in a roll, landing your gaze on the screen and feeling flushed at the image. You don’t care how embarrassing or pathetic you are for this. No, because, look at them. Everyone wants you to act like this. 

“Probably wouldn’t even care either, as long as you’re being fucked. Yeah, that’s right.” 

Nodding in a daze against him, you roll your hips harder, trying to bump his hand against your pussy, trying to prove to everyone that you have three holes and two hands for a reason. 

You don’t flinch when he slides his hands up the leg of your shorts either, pulling them to the side to reveal how wet you are to everyone. Listening to your body and the way it sings to him, brushing his knuckles against the swell of your clit, tapping the space where your hole sits and clenches to be seen. 

“Ah, fuck.” Jay finally lets out in a shaky breath, hand clearly still working himself because, well, he was half hard before you made an even appearance on camera. “It looks like she pissed herself–” 

Heeseung laughs as he drags his eyes to the image between your legs, so wet, entirely drenched through your nearly see-through panties at this point. Jay is right, it does look like you’ve pissed yourself, which only makes his cock throb more. That you’re so wet for him? So fucking drenched? God, he doesn’t even need lube with you.

You slick up so nice for him, it’s actually becoming painful not to test the stickiness, the slide it offers, the warmth. With this much pouring out of you, like you’ve already squirted, surely you could take all of him.

In an instant he pushes you from his lap, making you feel dizzy and light headed because suddenly you’re on your feet in front of him again. He gives you no time to balance yourself when he’s pulling your shirt up and off of you in a huffed out sigh, holding you in place by your tits to keep you from toppling over and breaking his monitor.  

And when you steady out, his hands run straight down, shoving your shorts and panties down in one go before immediately pulling you back to his lap, holding your arms behind you, and spreading his own legs to force yours open for his friends.

“Take a good, long, look.” Heeseung directs towards his friends, sliding his hand in front of you and using two fingers to present your hole to them. “If you think she’s pretty, let her know now.” 

It’s the way Heeseung moves his hand from behind you just to set his headset on your head now, quickly pinning your arms in place again and allowing you to listen to his friends do just that. 

Immediately, pussy spread and unintentionally clenching in the camera, one of your senses is enveloped with the sound of Jay’s palm shamelessly dragging up and down his hidden cock. Then, the sound of Jake and his deep inhales paired with slight cracked whines, just as shameless, doing much the same.

Then, Sunghoon.

Fucking Sunghoon. Barely moving, but more willing to talk to you with that headset on your head. 

“This why you didn’t come over?” He asks you blatantly in a breathy voice, glaring at the fingers of Heeseung holding your cunt open for him. “That could be me right now, but you’re really just going to fuck him? Of all people?”

You groan, lifting your head to give a proud nod and accidentally bumping Heeseung in the chin with the action. 

The bump forces him to bite his tongue, a metallic taste of the small amount of blood flooding his mouth mixed with saliva when he dips his head, grabbing you by the hair and forcing your mouth to his.

You can taste the blood too, when he presses his wet tongue past your lips without so much as swallowing the mixture first. Practically drooling and spitting into your mouth through the rough kiss. It feels like your drowning, kissing him back like you’ve always wanted to, tasting him in a new way now and moaning into it. 

Like a slut, really. Just fucking moaning. And he only forces more out of you too, as you feel him adjust his hands, holding you here on his lap, rough tongue bleeding against yours, sliding two fingers into you with one push. 

God, finally. Fucking, finally. 

Your mouth falls open in a sharp inhale of feeling his fingers, his lips turning to a smirk at hearing one of his friends audibly moan at the image on screen for them. You just showed how much of his saliva you were savoring, diluted red in the drool dripping down your chin through your moan.

You’re dirty, all four of them can see that much. But only Heeseung gets to feel it. 

His cock throbs at the image when he strains his eyes to the screen, plunging his fingers in, out, in, out, until he pulls them from you entirely, thrusting them into your open mouth instead. 

You squeal at the intrusion of his sudden fingers against your tongue, offering a third taste in your mouth. Yourself. 

“Mhm,” Heeseung encourages you. “Suck it up like you did for me the other day.”

You hear Jake gasp at the idea that you’ve already done this for Heeseung before, probably leading him to believe that Heeseung has also probably already fucked you.

And hell, with how it’s looking, none of them would be shocked if that were the case. 

“You’ve been doing this while talking to us?” Jake tries to confirm with you through a breathed sigh, groaning and unintentionally showing that he…wouldn’t mind. 

“God, I don’t even want to fuck you now.” Sunghoon on the other hand, isn’t so willing and lies, absolutely wanting to be the person fucking your lips with his fingers. “After Heeseung? Disgusting.” 

Oh, they think he’s fucked you already? 

You shoot your eyes open, trying to shake your head in a “no” at them but still suckling around his fingers. 

“Goddamn,” Heeseung grunts, rutting up against your back, letting his cock leave leaking little spots of his precum against your lower back. “Your sister would never act like this.” 

“You should be ashamed, but you love it.” He continues, talking, talking, talking. Shoving his fingers deeper, deeper, deeper. “Work that tongue like a good girl.” He continues to whisper from behind you before– 

You’re gagging. Feeling his fingers reach deep into your throat and press your tongue down to the point you’re forced to open your mouth wide. Exposing not only your finger-fucked pussy to his friends, but now your open and constricting throat. 

Sunghoon immediately regrets his insult at you, seeing how wide and open your throat can be. Gagging openly with very little sound as Heeseung compresses your tongue through it. 

You’re drooling again, eyes blinking up at the ceiling as if you could possibly find a way to drink away your tears. 

That’s about as much as Jay can take, gripping the base of his weeping length, willing it to stop threatening him with an orgasm before Heeseung really gets you looking pretty. He chokes up through the mic, and the sound runs straight through your body.

There, he watches you moan through an open and dry mouth, throat muscles tensing just to get the sound out. He grips harder, needing to pull his eyes away but struggling so hard to fucking do. 

“Shit, baby. Stop.” Jay calls through the microphone, forcing his friends eyes on him, yours included, as all of you watch him vibrate in his seat in an attempt not to cum. “Stop moaning.”

Heeseung hears him say it, and intentionally gags you again instead. Bumping his fingers at the back of your throat with a smile on his face. Glancing between all of his friends, seeing how pathetic they are for what he does to you. 

The fact that they’re sticking around at all? Both great and fucking embarrassing. Even more embarrassing than you. 

Then Heeseung focuses back on you, tears running down your pretty cheeks, mouth agape, throat struggling to adjust still to his fingers despite taking his cock like that’s the only shape or size it wanted. 

Ah, your body is so pathetically telling, and he grants you the release of another gag by sliding his fingers out of your mouth and straight back to your warm, pulsing, hole.

Right back in, one hole filled at all times it seems, as he feeds into the whiplash he’s able to give you. You didn’t even notice how he shoves you off of his lap until you can no longer see the screen in front of you and are face to face with his keyboard. No frustrated face of Jay, no forced calm and collected expression from Sunghoon, no blatantly bitten lips of Jake. 

No, only the feeling of Heeseung chasing your hole with his fingers, your hips running from the touch due to sensitivity and buckled knees. He holds you there against his desk, standing behind you and pressing his cock between your ass cheeks. Fingers roughly rubbing your clit, sliding down to fuck into you, then out again to rub you harder.

His friends watch you try to run your lower half away from him, but his eyes stay glued to the camera, as if he’s staring into the soul of his friends. 

“You guys wanna see me fuck her?” He comments in a sly tone, cock grinding against you. “I can fuck her.” 

“Ah, Hee–” You groan as a response, listening to the slapping of palms against cocks only grow more furious and finally relaxing your body to now search for his fingers, just to push yourself back on them. “Please.”

He snickers from behind you, grabbing a hand full of hair at the back of your head as he rips his fingers from your needy hole, wiping them along your cheek as he forces you to look at him. 

“Again.” He demands, now pinching your cheeks with one hand, arching your back more by the pull of your hair. “Say, “Please, Seungie, fuck me.” He whispers into your mouth, loud enough for the mic to pick up the way you swallow around his words. 

“Say, “Please, Hee, give it to me.” He continues, making his voice higher pitched as if to mock your moans.

Sunghoon watches and listens in shock, never once wanting to know that this is how his own friend fucks someone, but goddamn. It’s like he’s just found the video on page 86 of pornhub that hit just right as he watches. Fucking up and into his fist like his life depends on it, waiting, waiting, waiting, for you to moan out just like Heeseung is telling you to. 

And it’s the fact that you fucking do, Heeseung watching the way Jake presses his entire body into his chair, staring down at himself with a fast moving palm, so fast that he can see his friend lose himself to the pleasure.

Jay, near tears in his eyes as he watches, probably moaning in your ear like a mad man right now. 

You fucking say it.

You say both, moaning in a choked gasp when you feel him stick his tip in you at it. 

“Please–” You hiccup as you try to repeat the words again and again for him. “God, yes.” You rasp out in a deeper tone at the feeling of him slide in. 

And he keeps sliding in, trying to keep himself from rolling his eyes back when he bottoms out and feels your cunt clench him as if you’ll never let it go.

And then, one quick thrust, holding your hair in his hands, arching you harder, his other hand reaching for yours and holding them behind your back, he fucks forward. 

Your tits bounce with the movement, neck strained to keep your eye on his face as you try to adjust to the full size of him entering you.

“She just takes it.” Heeseung grunts with a choked breath. “Shit, so goddamn tight.” He murmers again, nearly unable to stand on his own two feet how tight you are.

He forces you to look at him through it, squeezing your hands together so tightly through it that you can barely focus on the pain of your positioned body against the feeling of his cock splitting you open with each hard thrust. 

And then, you let out the most filthy, wet, pornographic cry. 

Heeseung then brings his attention to his monitor one last time, watching the pathetic mess of people in front of him getting off entirely on his cock driving into you. 

“I win.” He says with one pointed thrust, keeping his hips pressed against your ass and only pressing in harder, trying to reach another inch in, trying to break past whatever wall inside of you keeps him from impaling you entirely on him. 

All three friends burst into a feeling of realization, Jake already mid orgasm at the sound of that moan you just cried out– 

Then theres….nothin but the feeling of Heeseung releasing your hands and allowing you to grip his desk through this deep hold of his length inside of you. 

Suddenly, no sound through the headset, the light of the monitor in your peripheral vision goes off, and Heeseung is breaking his demeanor just to moan out in full again. 

“Drove them crazy,” He chuckles through a wet groan, now snapping his hips back and leaning forward just to push back into you, deeper, deeper, until his desk ruts against the wall with the tight hold on you. “Driving me fucking crazy.” He whispers, holding his open lips right against your neck when he hunches over in this paused thrust. 

“You looked so good.” He says again, suddenly praising you, suddenly able to relish in the pleasure he’s giving you rather than pretending it does nothing for him. 

You blink away tears, feeling your twisted and turned body, still trying to look at him through this even if he’s released your hands. 

He can see that look of realization on your face and smiles at that too before shooting his hands to your middle and forcing you back and against him. 

He keeps his dick in you, too obsessed with the drag your walls offer to him, and holds you against him just to shift to the side and press you back on the misplaced couch in the room. Man cave stuff, and alla that. 

You watch him guide you face first into the cushions before he is grabbing your hands again, holding them right back in pace behind your back with one hand, and the other pushing your face even further into the pillows. 

“You have no fucking idea, do you?” He grunts, slamming into you again, eyes glued to the way your body strains to accommodate the position he wants you in. “How much better you are?”

Oh. Really now? 

You smile through suffocated breaths, the fabric of the couch invading the taste of your own breath and forcing you to love it just as much. You bite down, listening to his spilling words. 

“Begging me like that for my friends to hear, like you didn’t know I wanted to do this?” He continues, burying himself deep again and holding it there again. “Fucking my pillow instead of me.” 

He seems a little more angry now. 

“Turning my friends on when you wanted me,” He grabs your hair again, pulling you back into that same painful arch and forcing you to stare up at the wall. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart, I would’ve given it to you every time.” 

The reality that this is not your boyfriend is so far from you right now. The fact that your sister is working away right now to pay the light bill, gonna come home later and share a bed with this man? You’re not even jealous. 

In fact? You’re on top of the world listening to him want you more. 

And at this point, Heeseung can tell you’re smiling, looking blankly at the wall and totally lost from this world. This is exactly what he wanted. 

Such a pretty little sister, winning him over the bitch that won’t even choke on his cock? It could have been so much easier for you. But this was fun for him, watching you want him and know you couldn’t have him.

Despite him proving that you could have had him any day of the week.

“All you had to do was ask.” He repeats into your ear, now slowing his pace until he pulls out. 

He takes a step back, gazing at the way your open pussy still clenches for him, the way your ass shakes slightly with your legs. 

“Aww,” He coos, blinking at you from behind and reaching forward to flip you over. “You wanted it so bad too, can’t believe you waited.” 

You see him now, fully in person rather than through the image on his monitor. His skin looks so much more full of life, cheeks tinted and hair more fucked up than you’ve ever seen it. Cock huge, weighed against his leg. 

You’re shocked you took all of it like that previously, unable to relish in the pain of it because your senses were overloaded with moans and his own boasting. 

“Your sister doesn’t have to know.” He says now, eyes trailing your body. 

“Ah–” You wince when he licks his fingers and lowers his hand to your clit, one hand spreading your legs out now that he’s got you on your back. “I really didn’t know.”

Heeseung chuckles, finding you entirely too cute and endearing as you look up at him with those fucked out lips trying not to quiver at your sensitivity. 

“You were too dumb to take a hint.” He leans forward, now, using his hand to lift your leg up to your chest, rubbing his cock right against your hole as he pulls his other hand up now, propping up your other leg. “Too stubborn to realize.” 

You nod in a slightly broken way, unsure of if you were the one putting yourself through torture, or if you really were too dumb to notice he was trying to get you to go insane for him. 

He wanted you to jump on him. He wanted you to take it like this. 

“And you won’t tell her?” You whisper now, losing the ability to think much more when he grinds himself down, keeping eye contact with you, that same smirk you both hated and loved. 

He shakes his head at you, almost sweetly when he adjusts his cock to slide in again, knocking the breath out of you with a choked moan. 

“She won’t find out if you can be quiet when she’s home.”

Oh fucking no. He wants to…continue this? This isn’t a one time thing? He’s going to try while she’s home? While she’s gone?  Arguably, you’re fucking glad.

“When she’s–?” You try to question, stopping short when he bottoms out in a groan, breathing in through his nose before lending you a tight, short thrust. 

“Mm, yeah, I’m gonna be in you every day.” He moans, thinking about the image alone of sneaking into your room while his girlfriend is fast asleep.

Fucking you in his bed. In your bed. On the shared couch. Everywhere. Everyday. 

“God, she’d hate us both.” He chuckles through the same moans he can’t stop from spilling out of his throat. “Finding out I’m so deep, so raw like this.”

Fuck. Right.

“Wait–” You come to realization, clenching from panic at the fact that a condom didn’t even come to mind. “Fuck, Hee, wait!” 

He only presses harder now, smiling at how you’ve finally managed to come to your senses. Fucking you faster when you try to wiggle your hips away. Fucking you harder, pressing his entire body weight against the back of your thighs just to force you to stay in one place. Pussy open and spread out, clenching his cock so nicely. 

“Gonna fuck you full,” He kisses your forehead with the horrifying words. “You’ll do it for me right? She won’t let me.”

Those words ring in your head. If she won’t let him, you sure as fuck will. You can deal with the consequences later. You no longer fight to pretend he’s not ramming your g-spot, forcing your voice to shake through a cry of his name. 

“I’m not–” You choke out through cries, feeling your body tense up. “I’m not on birth co-”

“Fuckkkk, yes.” He rolls his eyes back at your half spoken words, losing it at the thought of dripping his seed into you and knowing he’s sterile enough to scare you both for good. “Take it,” He thumps his cock as far into you as he can, willing you to nod your head, willing you to love this as much as he does. 

It’s the fact that you’re not trying to wiggle away now, he can feel your hole pulse at hit words, the way you want to be better than your sister, the way you’d truly let him. 

Even more the fact that you’re not the one he should be shooting his seed into. It should be your sister, the woman who wants to marry him, the woman who said she simply wasn’t ready to bear his child.  Not that you want to either, but goddamn do you want to be fucked full of the possibly, you say it yourself in a harsh grip around his neck, tugging at the long strands of hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Do it.” You whisper through hiccuped moans, his thrusts scooting you up and down on the couch at the sheer force of them. 

“Yeah,” He nods his head, pressing harder against your legs as he chases the very high you’re asking him to give to you. “You want it?” He encourages you to keep telling him. He needs you to tell him. 

You nod frantically, feeling your body tense up again, trying to reach your hands between your legs to rub your swollen clit. Shockingly, that simply touch of your fingers sends you straight over edge, cumming so hard around his deep thrusts that you can barely hear him praise you through it with drawn out groans of “Ah, you’re squeezing me–” and “Just like that, I’m–”

His voice is clear though, when his hips stutter in place and he’s holding himself still. You can feel the pulse of him releasing into you through the last moments of your orgasm. 

“Take it.” He moans. “Take all of it.” He continues, pulling out half way so that his cum drenches every part of your hole. 

There, he uses his hand to milk the rest of it out of him, eyes squeezed shut as he feels the sensation of your own orgasm only slick up the inside of you more than he is, and then– he rams back in. Pushing his cum deep. So deep that you moan at the feeling, knowing the mess is dripping down your ass, and being shoved so far against your cervix that– Well. You panic. 

Arguably, Heeseung should panic too, but he doesn't as he heaves in a deep and relieved sigh, sliding out of you once and for all. 

He just looks at you, a mess on the office couch, pussy pumped full of him, swollen, still pulsing. 

“Can I be honest?” He breathes out after running his hands through his sweaty hair, dropping them down with a slap to your now relaxed legs.

At your silence, he continues anyway. “You’ve never looked prettier than right now.” 

And, well. You realize that with those words alone, selfish and self absorbed as you relish in them, you decide you don’t care that he’s just fucked you raw without a care in the world that he just cheated on the supposed love of his life. You both have won in this situation, and pregnancy isn’t such a scare anyway when he walks away a mere minute later and comes back with a fucking Plan-B pill. 

You’re confused by it at first, popping it into your mouth and looking at him with raised brows. 

“Why do you just have these?” You ask, still catching your breath. 

“She takes one every time we have sex, even with a condom.” He rolls his eyes.  You smirk, noting how if there’s anything you do better than your sister…It’s fucking her boyfriend.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cut Deep

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, violence, bullying, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Bad news brings the worst out in Logan. [reader is a mutant who can see emotions]

Characters: Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

Note: since this is my first time writing this character, I'd especially appreciate some extra feedback

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“So, me and Scott just wanted to let everyone know we chose a date!” Jean is ecstatic. You can feel her happiness radiating from her. Despite how often you try to block those vibrations out, hers are so strong, you can’t. “And we’ll send out the invitations soon. Be sure to RSVP! And we know you all can make it because it will be right here at the mansion.” 

She beams as Scott drapes his arm around her shoulders. They are such a cute couple. Perfect. Everyone on the team loves them. Well, everyone except for the one person roiling with black clouds of spite. 

You glance over at Logan as he stews by the door. He stands with his burly arms crossed, his biceps straining in his leather jacket. He glares at the happy couple and curls his lip. Everyone also knows that he has a rotten infatuation with Jean, too. You feel bad for him really. 

He catches you staring before you can tear your eyes away. He tilts his head and narrows his eyes. You quickly look away and swallow. You get up and go to Jean and Scott. 

“Congrats, guys,” you smile, “let me know if you need any help with planning.” 

“Thank you. Of course,” Jean smiles as Scott echoes her. 

You make room for another well-wisher and back away, basking in the good energy all around. Well, mostly. You feel Logan steaming still but you refuse to look at him. You know how he gets when he’s upset. You don’t need to be able to see into his mind to know he’s pissed off. 

As the room converges on the happily engaged couple, you opt to leave before the noise can get too much. You’re always a bit more sensitive with the extra effort of trying to block out the sounds that you don’t want to hear. It’s like a buzz on the other side of a wall. If the door cracks open, it will all blast in like a sonic wave. 

You go into the library and reclaim the book you set left carelessly open on a leather armrest. It’s a history of mutants written in the 1700s. A secret tome Professor Xavier collected among his endless search for compatriots, both past and present. 

Some you know from the history taught in schools for non-mutants. Like the queen accused of witchcraft or the countless people executed for the very same. Emperors who’s legacies are chalked up to folktale and superstition over the reality of their beings.  

You sit up as you sense the shift in the air. That greyness seeps in before the door opens. You know who it is already yet you’re surprised to see him enter. Logan scowls as his eyes pinpoint at you. His rage continues to burn hotter and hotter. 

“Oh, hi,” you close the book, “sorry, did you need the library--” 

“I need you to stop tryna poke around in my head,” he growls. 

You flinch as you stand slowly, “I... I don’t do that. Those are the rules. I stay in my own.” 

“I saw you staring,” he accuses. 

“I just looked. I could... feel. That I can’t control,” you explain. “Sorry.” 

“Feel what? Huh? What do you think you know?” 

You clear your throat and shake your head. “Nothing, I don’t know anything.” 

“Damn right, you know shit all, little girl,” he stomps over to you. 

You gulp as you stare back at him. Logan, Wolverine, X-Man. He’s one of the most admired and well-known mutants alive but that’s all you know of him. You’ve seen him hundreds of times in the mansion, but only in passing. He never wanted to talk to you, only Jean. As far as you knew, he didn’t even know you existed. 

“That’s correct,” you agree. 

You peek down at the book in your hand. You should put it back. You sniff but as you go to turn, he rips you back by your upper arm. His grip is steel. You face him and wince as he squeezes enough to make your bones ache. 

“You think I’m what? Some pathetic creature that’s slathering over another guy’s girl?” He barks. 

You shake your head, “nope. No. I wouldn’t... know.” 

“You fucking wouldn’t,” he grits, his fingertips pushing into your tender arm. You let out a squeak. “Me? What about you? Always around. Riding her fucking coat tails. All for what? Cause you can tell when I’m having a bad fucking day. Every day is fucking bad.” 

You stare at him. A vein bulges in his forehead, another in his neck, and he’s slightly red with his fury. You don’t understand why he’s mad at you. Well, people often don’t aim their emotions in the right direction. Often, there’s too much for them to feel and it just spills over.  

Logan’s aura deepens to a thick black. Darker and bolder than anything you’ve ever witnessed. It tendrils around you as you squirm. You clasp onto the book and try to wiggle free as the blood throbs in your arm. 

“Ouch. Please, let me go. I wasn’t meaning to--” 

“You’re never going to be her. You know that? You won’t even be an X-Man. You’re just one of Charles’ pets.” He reaches for the book and rips it from your hand. “He keeps you in your birdcage and you flutter around and read these stupid things.” 

He tosses the book onto the floor and steps closer. You step back and whine. He keeps on until you’re against a shelf. 

“You’ll never be her and I’ll never have her,” he grits out. “So, we’ll compromise.” He grabs your neck and you writhe and whimper. “What do you feel now, huh?” 

A wisp of red tinges the black fog unfurling from his broad shoulders. More anger but something more. Lust. Love is a delicate pink or a pale purple, but lust is a deep and lurid crimson. Mixed with his rage, it is something more. It’s a tainted hue. 

“I can pretend. You should try to do the same.” 

“Please,” you press your hands against his stomach. 

“Don’t try that shit,” he drags his other hand down your arm and puts his knuckles to your side. He lets his claws out just enough to jab you. “You can’t get in my head. Professor made well sure of that.” 

You squeak and shake your head, “I wouldn’t-- Logan, please--” 

“Shut your damn mouth and pull your pants down. I ain’t got all day,” he snarls. 

“What?” You bat your eyes as they glisten. “No, no, what are you--” 

His claws poke you again, easily piercing your shirt and scratching your skin. You lean back into the shelf as you peel your hands away from him. He glowers at you as he releases your neck. He crowds you in as you wait just a moment longer, hoping, wishing he would go. 

You lower your hands cautiously. You drop your gaze, humiliated. You shake as you hook your thumbs under your waistband and push your leggings down. You gulp as your eyes tingle. 

He grabs your shoulder and spins you to face the shelf. You let out an oomph as you catch yourself against the books. He trails up to the back of your neck and pinches. You squeal into a sob. Your disbelief bubbles to horror. You brace the wood as he yanks on your panties. 

“Fucking girl,” he mutters. “Lookin’ at me... what d’ya fucking know?” 

“Logan--” 

“Stop saying my goddamn name.” He shoves your head so it hits a shelf and you groan. Ouch. 

You close your eyes and lean your forehead on the wood. Jean says you need to breathe. Centre yourself. It’s hard when you’re terrified. 

You inhale, taking in his emotion, his anger, even a tinge of that other desire that drives him so slap your ass. He digs in his nails as you babble. You gather the black cloud and blow it out. 

He hisses and recoils as it ripples off of you like fire. He growls and as you go to turn, he sweeps your feet out from under you. You flail as you fall, landing on your elbow so it throbs. You whine and roll onto your stomach. You drag yourself over the floor as he clutches his head and snarls. 

“I told ya not to try anything,” he barks. 

“Please, please, I didn’t do anything.” 

He steps over you and falls to his knees. He straddles you as you claw at the floor, pushing your toes down as you try to escape him. He swats the back of your head so hard your vision blurs. His anger darkness the room and disorients you. 

You’ve never felt anything so intense and you feel everything. Love, joy, pain, grief, confusion... fear. His anger strangles you as he forces your head down to the floor, leaning his weight on his head as he pins you. 

He raises himself on his knees and shifts. You kick out, thrashing your arms. You open and close your hands and clamp shut your eyes. You can do it. Take his anger in-- 

You scream as you’re scalded by the corrupt energy pouring from him. No, it’s too much. You’re not ready. All that training and you’re still weak. 

You murmur at the floor, “no, no, please, no...” 

He traces his hand down your ass and forces his fingers between your thighs. He feels around roughly, scratching your as he flicks along your dry folds. You gulp and heave. Your tears swell in an unstoppable flow. 

You slap your hands on the floor and tense as he prods around, dipping a thick digit into your cunt with a grunt. Your legs distend and you push your toes down. He delves, in, out, deeper, harder, smashing into you. 

He rips his hand away and you whine again. He leans over you, his hand stretching across your skull entirely. You can feel his strength in your neck. He bends, hot breath scalding your scalp with the flames of his wrath. 

You weep as he brings his tip along your flesh and guides it around blindly. He puts more weight onto your head as he stretches you around his tip. You shriek and jut your arm out straight, the edge of the rug curling in your grasp. 

“Help, someone! Help--” 

He grabs your head with both hands and slams it into the floor. The reverberating impact fractures your voice and thoughts. He rams his hips down and impales you around his thick cock. You murmur as spittle leaks from your mouth and tears continue to smear your face. 

He thrusts, holding himself at his limit and well past yours. He grips your skull tighter and tighter with each tilt. He huffs and puffs, growling and groaning as he tears you up from the inside. 

Finally, he releases your head. The metallic shink of his claws cuts through the delirium of physical and mental anguish. The pain in your bones can’t compare to the dagger of his anger piercing through your soul. 

He stabs his claws into the floor on either side of your neck. The adamantium grazes your skin, keeping you still for fear of cutting deeper. You wheeze and go rigid as he rears back and slams down harder and harder. His flesh clasp louder with each cruel descent. 

The black cloud creeps over the floor like heavy fog. It crawls up the walls as a glimmer of red weaves through it. He ruts deeper and deeper, the motion jarring you so that his claws scrape away the skin at your neck. 

He bends over you, curling his shoulders as you feel him tense. He exhales as the blackness covers the ceiling and casts you into shadow. You reach to grasp at his claws, slicing your palms helplessly as you cling on. 

He thrusts until you feel him in your guts. Once, twice, several time with all the hatred he can summon. He growls and trembles as he spills into you, a heat hotter than even his boiling rage.  

Your hands slip from his claws and you spread your bloodied palms on the carpet. You quake in horrified sobs. He buries himself as he lays his entire weight over you limply. He puffs as he dislodged the metal from the floor.  

He hangs his head next to yours and sneers, “it shouldn’t be him, Jean.” 

You hold your breath. You can’t speak or move for fear of reminding him what he’s just done. Or worse, reigniting his assault. 

He groans and slides out, flipping off of you to sit on his ass. He rests his arms on his bent knees and sighs. You watch the black haze dim to a dull grey. He’s still angry but he can contain it. The storm has calmed but it's far from over.

[amethystarachnid]

Hi! Its me again I had another found family troupe in mind if your up for it! I wanted to ask before the Christmas prompts started.

So this time I was thinking Deadpool x Teen!Male!Reader where reader is on top of a building, how he got there is up to you, but he's abt to make a bad decision (if ykw I mean) when dead pool finds him and starts to talk, and basically they end up making a deal, if wade can make the reader see how good life is then he won't do it, but if he fails the reader can go back, and basically its is a bunch of fun stupid shit for the rest and the reader becomes apart of the little odd family created in dead pool 3 (including logan) and decides to stick around. So heavy angst that's solved in a nice fluff, and if your not comfortable with the first part you can change the angst to a different scenario you totally can, and the how and why is up to you.

Readers personality is a sarcastic, cold teen, but he's caring and weird around ppl he's close to, he hides his emotions to keep himself safe

If you can do this I would be so so grateful, if not its totally understandable, I love your work sm its hard not to request things, keep up the amazing writing! Have a good day/night!

OPERATION MAKE YOU NOT HATE THE UNIVERSE

⤷ WADE WILSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Wade Wilson x male!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: platonic!, angst, tiny bit of fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): This story deals with sensitive themes, including mental health struggles and suicide

ᯓ★ I'm happy that you like my works and don't worry, you can make as may requests as you want, I'm so happy when people make requests! <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The city sprawls below, twinkling and vast, but strangely quiet from this height. You sit on the edge of a skyscraper, your legs dangling into the nothingness, with only the hum of distant cars and neon lights bleeding through the foggy air.

You take a deep breath, the cold biting into your lungs. It makes sense, somehow, for this place to be the last thing you’d see. Who knows how long you’ve been sitting here, trying to drum up the courage or the anger or whatever it’s going to take to finally just let go. But the emptiness is louder than any fear. The world feels like it’s swallowed you whole, and this—you dangling on the edge—feels like the only time you’ve ever been able to look it in the face.

“You know, most people pick roller coasters or a fifth of tequila if they wanna feel a thrill.”

You flinch. Not from surprise—well, okay, a little from surprise—but more from sheer irritation. This is the moment someone decides to intrude? You glance over your shoulder and see him. He’s wearing red and black, looking like a deranged SWAT team dropout, leaning casually against the roof access door, arms crossed like he’s watching a really boring episode of a soap opera.

“And here I thought I had the whole roof to myself,” you say dryly, hiding your unease. “Guess we’re all just having a rooftop party.”

“Lucky for you, kiddo, I’m the life of the party. Deadpool, at your service,” he says with a bow. “But hey, what’s a young guy like you doing up here all alone? Besides reenacting all the worst Lifetime movies?”

You snort, because it’s exactly that bad. “Oh, just figured I’d enjoy the view,” you reply, deadpan. “And maybe gravity. Seems like a good combo.”

“Right, right, makes sense,” he nods, as if he’s in on some cosmic joke only you get. He crouches down, edging a little closer. “Let me guess. Someone pissed you off, the world sucks, you hate your life, blah blah blah, and now you’re about to end it all. Am I close?”

You don’t answer, just roll your eyes and stare back out at the city. But something in the fact that he said it—that he got it so easily—makes you feel strange. Seen.

“Oh, man, nailed it!” Deadpool cheers, like this is some sort of accomplishment. “See, I’m like a therapist, but with 90% more leather and 100% more explosions. And, I make house calls. You’re welcome.”

“Yeah? Where’s the PhD?” You give him a sidelong look, unimpressed. “Bet it’s in the mail.”

He gasps theatrically. “Excuse me, my online course was very thorough, thank you. You’re looking at a fully certified therapist-slash-savior-slash-pizza connoisseur.” He steps even closer, as if he’s trying to get a read on you. “So, what’s it gonna take for you to, I dunno…step back from the edge, champ?”

The question catches you off guard, but you school your expression back into that empty, unreadable mask. “Nothing,” you say. “Don’t need saving.”

“Aw, sure you do. Everybody does,” Deadpool replies, with a smile that’s a little too wide. He’s still in that crouch, head tilted like he’s studying a lab rat. “C’mon, take me up on my deal.”

“I didn’t agree to any deal,” you mutter.

“Well, that’s about to change, Mr. Antisocial.” Deadpool leans in, his voice a dramatic whisper. “I’ll make you a bet. If I can’t show you something worth sticking around for, something that doesn’t totally suck, you win. But if I can—and oh, I will—then you gotta promise not to do anything stupid up here. No ‘jumping’ and no ‘leaping gracefully off into the night’—not on my watch. Deal?”

You look at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious. But then, you’re not sure this guy even knows what serious means. A smirk slips onto your face, mostly from disbelief. “And if you fail, I get to come back here and do what I want.”

Deadpool slaps his hands together, eyes lighting up like he’s just scored a jackpot. “Deal! Signed, sealed, and delivered. What’s your name, by the way? So I know what to call you when I start ‘Operation Make You Not Hate the Universe.’”

“None of your business.”

“Oh, that’s not gonna work,” he replies breezily. “I’ll call you...” He pauses dramatically, finger tapping his chin. “Shadow Kid. Because of your gloomy vibes. Or Edgy McBroodface. Either one works for me.”

You sigh, exasperated. “Fine. It’s Y/n. Happy?”

He claps his hands like a kid on Christmas. “Delighted! Well, Y/n, pack your bags because you’re about to take the Deadpool Tour de Joy. First stop: that little bakery down the street that makes these empanadas that are just to die for—pun very intended.”

As ridiculous as he sounds, something inside you—against all odds—doesn’t completely hate this idea. Maybe he’s right, maybe he’s wrong, but at least he’s distracting you. And it’s better than the silence. So you sigh, push yourself back from the edge, and follow him, if only because he’s made it impossible not to.

“Don’t get too excited,” you warn, hiding a hint of curiosity beneath a mask of sarcasm. “I don’t like pastries.”

“Don’t worry, kid, you will,” he grins, guiding you off the ledge. “Deadpool guarantees it. Or I’ll give you a full refund. You know, after we make sure you don’t end up sidewalk art.”

It’s midnight, and you’re trailing behind a lunatic in red and black spandex as he skips down the street like he’s leading a parade of one. You almost regret stepping away from the edge of that building. Almost. Because, despite everything, Deadpool’s got your attention, even if it’s just so you can see where this trainwreck of a night is headed.

“Now, Y/n,” he says, spinning around to face you while walking backward, “it’s time I introduce you to my squad. My inner circle. The people who either love me or have given up trying to kill me. I figured, what better way to kick off Operation: Don’t Be A Self-Destructive Edgelord than some quality time with family?”

“Your ‘family’?” You raise an eyebrow, skeptical.

“Oh, yes. They’re the most dysfunctional group of weirdos you’ll ever meet, which, in our line of work, is high praise.” He turns back around, leading you down a couple of twisting alleyways until you’re standing in front of a building that looks like it was abandoned about a hundred years ago.

“Home, sweet home!” Wade announces proudly, shoving the door open. “Well, it’s not really mine, but Al’s not much of a decorator anyway.”

You’re about to ask who “Al” is when you spot her: a short, older woman with oversized sunglasses, leaning against a sofa, flipping through a Braille magazine. She doesn’t even look up when she addresses Deadpool.

“You brought home another stray, Wade? You’d think you were trying to start an orphanage for misfits,” she mutters.

“This one’s special, Al. Meet Y/n,” Wade says, guiding you inside. “Y/n, this is the one and only Blind Al. She’s my friend, roommate, therapist, probation officer, and part-time parole board.”

Al snorts. “You think I’d live with Wade if I had any other options?”

You almost smirk. “So you’re telling me he’s like this all the time?”

Al nods, and you catch the tiniest hint of a smile on her face. “Constantly. And unfortunately, you’ll get used to it.”

“Come on, Al, don’t ruin the surprise! I’m a blast to be around,” Wade says, slapping you on the back with a little too much enthusiasm. “Anyway, I promised Y/n the Deadpool Experience™, which includes only the finest influences and biggest badasses on the market.”

“Speaking of badasses…” Wade nudges you, gesturing to the kitchen doorway, where a tall, grizzled man in flannel and jeans leans against the frame, arms crossed. His eyes are hard, the kind that say he’s seen more than his fair share of horror, but he’s giving you a look that’s somewhere between curiosity and caution.

“Logan, meet Y/n,” Wade says, pushing you forward. “Y/n, meet Wolverine, aka Logan Howlett, aka the surliest Canadian this side of the Rockies. Logan, Y/n here’s having a tough time deciding if life’s worth sticking around for, so I figured you could help me convince him otherwise. Since you’re all about that whole ‘living through endless suffering’ thing.”

Logan looks you over, clearly unimpressed with Wade’s choice of words. “You tell this kid what he was getting into by sticking with you?” he grumbles, giving Wade a side-eye.

“Why spoil the fun?” Wade chirps. “Besides, I figured I’d ease him into the nightmare that is my lifestyle by introducing him to you first. It’s all part of my master plan.”

You scoff. “Not exactly a plan so far.”

Logan grunts, shooting Wade a look. “Kid, if you’re here, you better be ready to put up with more crap than you signed up for. And if you don’t, well, don’t expect us to sugarcoat it.”

“Gee, thanks, Logan. Great pep talk,” Wade says, clapping his hands together. “You’re practically the Canadian Dr. Phil.”

“Whatever,” Logan mutters, giving you a short nod of acknowledgment. “Stay out of trouble, kid.”

“Thanks,” you reply dryly. “I’ll make a note of it.”

Wade flashes a grin. “All right, now that we’ve got the somber stuff out of the way, it’s time to meet my real pride and joy. Follow me, Y/n.” He leads you down a narrow hallway, barely glancing back as he goes. “And here, in the third and definitely not cleanest room on the left, is the Mini Wolverine herself, Laura Kinney!”

You peer around the doorframe, and sure enough, there’s a young girl, no older than you, sharpening a knife with an intensity that could probably slice through steel. She looks up, one eyebrow raised as she sizes you up.

“So…another of Wade’s recruits?” she asks, her tone half-sarcastic but half-genuine, like she’s as surprised as anyone to find herself among this crowd.

“Not exactly,” you reply. “Apparently, I’m part of some…life-affirming experiment?”

Laura smirks. “Good luck. Most people just end up scarred. Or worse.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, mini-me,” Wade says, swooping in to ruffle her hair, which she swats at with the speed of a ninja. “Y/n, Laura here is what we call a ‘clone’—same rage issues, same claws, same immunity to hugs as Mr. Broodmaster in the kitchen. Laura, Y/n here is testing out the Wade Wilson School of Life Choices.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Well, better you than me. Good luck.”

“Look at that, Y/n! She’s already rooting for you,” Wade says, pulling you back out of the room before you can reply.

“Sure,” you mutter. “I feel like I’m one big science project.”

“Nah, science projects are boring,” Wade says cheerfully. “And last, but certainly not least, the crown jewel of this ridiculous ensemble is… Peter!”

You frown, confused, as Wade leads you to the living room, where a man with glasses and a receding hairline is lounging on the couch, a sandwich in one hand and a soda in the other. He looks up and waves at you with a sheepish smile.

“Hey there. I’m Peter,” he says. “No code name, no special abilities, just…Peter.”

You raise an eyebrow at Wade. “How does he fit in?”

“Oh, he doesn’t,” Wade says matter-of-factly. “He’s just a genuinely good guy. The one, non-superpowered person who got tangled up in my dumpster fire of a life and didn’t immediately bail. I figured he’d be a nice balance to all the violent murderers in the room. Plus, he makes a mean ham and cheese sandwich.”

Peter shrugs, giving you a friendly smile. “Sometimes, it’s good to have at least one guy who knows what life’s like for the average person. And I figure, if Wade can make it, maybe there’s hope for all of us, right?”

You nod slowly, unsure what to make of all this but also, maybe for the first time in a long time, feeling something close to warmth. These people are rough around the edges, sure, but there’s an understanding in the way they look at you—like they know what it’s like to have the world chew you up and spit you out.

“Well, Y/n,” Wade says, clapping his hands together, “you’ve met the gang. Now, how about that empanada?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at your lips. “Fine,” you mutter. “One empanada. But if it sucks, this deal’s off.”

Wade grins. “Deal! And hey, if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll even get a side of wisdom and life lessons from our merry band of misfits. Consider this step one on the path to…not hating everything.”

He leads the way, Peter and Al in tow, while Logan and Laura hang back a bit. And as you walk down the dimly lit street, surrounded by this unlikely crew, you realize maybe—just maybe—Wade might actually have a point.

The morning sun drips through the dirty windows of Blind Al’s apartment, casting a pale yellow glow over the chaotic mess of takeout boxes, weapon cases, and torn-up furniture. You’re sprawled on an old, threadbare armchair, an empanada wrapper stuck to your shirt from last night’s “Deadpool Tour de Joy.” You’d made it through an entire night with Wade and his crew of insane, sarcastic maniacs—and, against all odds, it wasn’t completely awful. In fact, you’d felt something almost like…belonging.

But now it’s the next day, and you’ve already told yourself a hundred times that you should probably just slip out, go back to what you were doing, forget all of this ever happened. You’re starting to push yourself up when Wade barges into the room, wearing his costume but missing the mask, eyes bleary, and looking like he hasn’t slept in days.

“Ah! Sleeping beauty rises!” Wade yells, startling you. “Figured you’d skipped out by now, but no! Y/n, my little suicidal protégé, how’s life on the wild side?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s early. Can you not yell?”

“Oh, no-no-no, kid, this is normal volume,” Wade replies with a grin. “Wait ‘til Logan shows up and starts shouting at me. Speaking of which…”

Right on cue, Logan comes around the corner, his expression twisted in irritation. “Wade, it’s nine in the damn morning, why are you already so loud?”

“Why are you such a ray of sunshine?” Wade replies cheerfully, barely dodging Logan’s hand as he tries to grab him.

“Because you’re annoying,” Logan growls, rolling his eyes and making for the coffee pot. But Wade is already blocking him, a mug in one hand, smirking.

“What if I told you there was no coffee left? Would you kill me?”

Logan raises an eyebrow, as if daring him to repeat it. Without a word, he pops out his claws, a metallic snikt slicing through the silence.

“Oh, I’m shaking!” Wade sneers, clearly egging him on.

“Deadpool, just get out of my way.” Logan tries to push past, but Wade laughs, making some obnoxious buzzing noise that apparently does the trick, because Logan grits his teeth and stabs him, right through the side.

You jump, stunned, watching as Logan’s claws slip back out, leaving Wade clutching his side. Blood pours out of the wound, and you’re about to call out when you realize that Wade’s grinning.

“Oh, there it is,” Wade says, inspecting the hole in his side, barely even phased. “You got me good, Wolvie. Was hoping you’d go for the chest, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“What the hell?” You can’t help but gape at him. “You’re bleeding, and you’re laughing?”

Wade winks, dropping his hand and letting you see that the wound is…healing. Muscles and tissue knit themselves back together, as if he hadn’t been stabbed at all. “Oh, yeah! Y/n, I forgot to mention one of my best features: I’m unkillable! Like an annoying houseplant that refuses to die. Cool, right?”

You blink, still trying to process. “So…no matter what happens to you, you just…keep coming back?”

“Yup! Think of it like this,” Wade says, throwing an arm around your shoulders, ignoring the sticky blood on his suit. “I am the miracle of human resilience, cranked up to eleven. Plus, I give Logan a stress outlet every morning. Win-win, really.”

“Wouldn’t call it a win,” Logan mutters, pouring his coffee. “If anything, you’re my worst nightmare.”

Wade smirks, turning to you. “Logan here’s my best friend. Don’t let him fool you.”

Logan takes a long, deliberate sip of his coffee, glaring over the rim. “One more word, Wade, and I’ll make it two stabs.”

“Oh, two stabs?” Wade clutches his chest dramatically. “Why, Mr. Howlett, you really know how to flatter a guy.”

“Honestly,” you mutter, looking at them, “this is the weirdest friendship I’ve ever seen.”

Logan glances over at you, grumbling, “It’s not a friendship. It’s a…complicated arrangement.”

Wade beams, throwing an arm around Logan’s shoulder, which Logan promptly shrugs off. “Call it whatever you want, sweetie.”

As they bicker, Laura enters the room, unfazed by the chaos. She gives you a nod of acknowledgment before grabbing a seat at the table, watching the two men as if this is just another morning.

“Y/n, how’s Wade treating you?” she asks, a smirk forming on her face.

You can’t help the sarcasm in your voice. “Oh, it’s just been fantastic. Nothing like witnessing multiple acts of violence before breakfast.”

She grins. “Get used to it. That’s pretty much every day around here.”

“Hey, I call it ‘combat therapy,’” Wade retorts, tossing her a wink. “You know, bonding time for the soul. Plus, Logan secretly loves it.”

You’re still processing all of this when Peter comes in, looking almost suspiciously normal, like a PTA dad in a nightmare of superheroes and chaos. He gives you a friendly wave, balancing a bag of bagels and a coffee tray.

“Morning, everyone!” Peter says, the only cheerful voice in the room. “Brought bagels for you all. Thought maybe today we could take it easy and just…you know, be normal for a while?”

Wade gasps. “Normal? Peter, buddy, you’re really asking a lot of me.”

“Don’t mind him, Peter,” you mutter, taking a bagel. “I think I’m the only sane one here.”

Peter gives you a sympathetic look. “I figured as much. Good luck with this crew, Y/n. If you ever need a sane friend, I’m your guy.”

Laura scoffs. “He doesn’t want ‘sane’ friends. If he did, he’d have run by now.”

You can’t argue with that. In fact, the thought does cross your mind—why didn’t you leave? But before you can dwell on it too long, Wade claps his hands.

“Today’s adventure awaits!” he announces, eyes alight with his usual chaotic energy. “We’ll start with breakfast and then…well, I’m not sure yet, but it’ll be something awesome.”

The group groans as Wade grabs his mask and heads for the door, beckoning for you to follow. Logan sighs, Laura grabs her knives, and Peter just looks resigned. But they all follow, like it’s a ritual they’re somehow tied to, and after a moment, you find yourself tagging along too.

The day is filled with antics. You lose track of the times Wade gets hurt, only to heal right in front of your eyes. Logan mutters that he’d be better off without Wade, only to punch him in the shoulder five minutes later with a hidden grin. Laura challenges Wade to a knife fight, and Peter just sighs, trying to keep everyone in line. And for the first time in…who knows how long, you’re laughing. Really laughing.

It’s almost night by the time you head back, the sky darkening as the city lights flicker on. You’re about to part ways and make your way home, but somehow, your feet keep taking you back to Al’s apartment. You know you don’t belong here, not really, but when you reach the door, there’s that same warmth—a strange pull you can’t ignore.

Wade notices you hesitate by the door and grins. “Aw, he’s back! See, I told you I’d be your favorite person in no time.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” you mutter, but you don’t turn to leave. Logan, Laura, Peter, and Al all glance at you, each with a look of welcome that they probably wouldn’t admit to feeling. It’s an odd sight, this bunch of misfits, but in some way, you realize that maybe they’re not as much of a mess as they seem. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve found something here that doesn’t completely suck.

“All right, all right, enough with the mushy stuff!” Wade says, breaking the silence. “Y/n, welcome back to Dysfunctional Central. We’re going to make you regret every second.”

You roll your eyes but smirk, stepping back inside and letting the door click shut behind you. Because this time, you don’t mind sticking around.

As night settles in over Blind Al’s apartment, the usual chaos of the group fades. Laura’s busy sharpening a blade on the couch, Logan’s nursing a beer in the corner, Peter is cleaning up the disaster of takeout containers from earlier, and Al is sitting near the window, her face turned toward the cool night breeze drifting in. Wade, in his typical way, is chattering aimlessly about everything and nothing at all, flipping between mocking TV commercials and talking up his latest “brilliant” idea for a reality show. And, as usual, you’re mostly tuning him out, feeling a mix of exhaustion and…something else. Something that’s starting to feel suspiciously like relief.

Wade breaks off suddenly, his head cocked as he glances over at you with a curious look. “So, Y/n,” he begins, his voice dropping a few notches in volume—a rarity. “How’s our little…adventure going? You feelin’ the spark of life yet? The whole, ‘maybe being alive doesn’t completely suck’ kinda thing?”

You shrug, fidgeting with the edge of your jacket. “I mean, it’s…been okay. You guys are insane, obviously, but it’s not the worst.”

Wade grins. “Insane and proud, baby. It’s kind of our brand. But don’t think I haven’t noticed your little act.” He leans in, dropping his voice even lower. “You’re good at the sarcasm, the deadpan thing. But I can see the cracks, kid. What’s under there?”

You freeze, not sure how to answer. Part of you wants to laugh it off, throw a sarcastic line his way, but something about the way Wade’s looking at you, uncharacteristically sincere, throws you off guard.

“Why’re you asking?” you mutter, looking away.

He shrugs, casual but not unkind. “Because, believe it or not, I give a damn. And because if I’m gonna help you out of whatever pit you’ve fallen into, I need to know where to start. So…give me the lowdown. What’s so bad it made you wanna bail on this whole rodeo?”

You swallow, throat tight. The last thing you want is to spill everything, to lay out every messy thought and feeling. But the words are there, just behind your teeth, begging to be let out after you’ve kept them buried for so long.

“It’s…” You hesitate, searching for the right words. “It’s not one thing, okay? It’s like…everything.”

Wade’s eyes don’t leave yours, an unspoken encouragement in his gaze.

You take a breath, still unsure, but the dam is cracking, and suddenly the words are pouring out before you can stop them. “I don’t know, Wade. I just—I feel like I don’t fit. Anywhere. I’ve tried, I really have, but no matter what I do, it’s like I’m some kind of outsider. The kid who’s always…wrong. Like I don’t belong in my own life. And the more I tried to fit in, the harder it got.”

Wade nods, not interrupting, just letting you talk.

“School was a nightmare,” you continue, voice barely above a whisper. “People either ignored me or treated me like I was invisible. Even my own family doesn’t seem to get me. I just…there’s no place for me. No one who actually cares, and it’s been that way for so long that I can’t remember a time it wasn’t. And I know you’re supposed to push through or whatever, but I just got so tired, Wade. Tired of always feeling like I’m on the outside looking in. Tired of being…me.”

You shake your head, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. “Everywhere I look, it’s like people have these lives, friends, family, things that give them a reason to wake up. But me? I don’t have anything, not really. So I started wondering…if I just disappeared, would anyone even notice? Would anyone care?”

Wade is quiet, watching you with an expression you can’t quite place. It’s not pity—thankfully, you don’t think you could stand that—but something softer, gentler.

“That’s why I went up there last night,” you admit, surprised by the honesty in your own voice. “Because I couldn’t stand the emptiness anymore. I thought maybe if I just…ended it, at least it would stop hurting, you know?”

There’s silence in the room now, even the usual background noise faded to nothing. You can feel the weight of your own words, a relief but also a vulnerability that makes you want to crawl out of your own skin.

After a moment, Wade shifts, sitting down next to you. “Hey, kid,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I know that feeling. I know it all too well.”

You glance at him, surprised. “You? You seem like you’ve got everything figured out.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, kid. I may be the king of talking big, but I’ve been where you are. Hell, I’ve been to worse places. You think I’m here just ‘cause life handed me everything I wanted? Nope. I got scars, inside and out, that’d make your head spin. And you know what? That ‘don’t belong’ feeling? I had that too.”

Wade pauses, running a hand over his mask, which he’s bunched up in his hands. “I used to think…if I could just disappear, maybe that would be the best thing for everyone. And that was before I became…this.” He gestures to his scarred skin, his voice low but steady. “When you look like this, people either turn away or look at you like you’re some kind of monster. It was…lonely. Really, really lonely.”

You swallow, something in his words hitting close to home. “So what changed?”

Wade smiles, a bit of his usual spark returning. “Well, I guess I just got stubborn. Figured if the world didn’t want me, then I’d make my own place. Found people—well, like the circus act you met last night. Turns out, sometimes family’s not about blood. It’s about…finding people who see the worst parts of you and stick around anyway.”

“Not everyone has that,” you murmur, glancing at the floor.

“True,” Wade admits, his gaze softening. “But kid, here’s the thing: you’re still here. And now, you’ve got us—like it or not.” He gives you a wry smile. “You don’t have to carry that weight alone anymore. I get it, I really do, but there’s no shame in letting someone else help pick up the pieces. Maybe you just haven’t found your people yet…but you’ve got me, and the squad. We’re not perfect, but we don’t go down without a fight.”

You look at him, a strange warmth spreading through your chest despite the heaviness of the moment. For the first time, you feel like maybe someone actually understands. Maybe, just maybe, you’re not completely alone.

“Thanks,” you say, the word barely loud enough to hear. “For…listening.”

Wade grins, reaching out and patting your shoulder, a bit rough but oddly comforting. “Anytime, kid. I’m annoying, sure, but you won’t find anyone more loyal.” He gives you a wink. “Besides, I told you—I’m not letting you off the hook that easy.”

You chuckle, feeling a little lighter despite everything. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

“Nope. It’s a gift and a curse.” Wade stands, offering a hand to help you up. “Now, you and me? We’re gonna keep going until you see just how much life’s got to offer. I mean, look at me—scarred, hated, stabbed on a daily basis—and somehow, I’m still here.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re a walking disaster.”

“Guilty as charged,” Wade says with a laugh. “But hey, you stick around with us long enough, maybe we’ll rub off on you. Logan can teach you how to growl menacingly, and Laura can teach you how to stab with precision. Peter’s got the dad jokes covered. It’s a real all-inclusive experience.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a spark of hope. It’s small, fragile, but it’s there. Maybe life’s not all bright and shiny, and maybe you’ve got a long way to go, but with Wade and this dysfunctional crew, maybe there’s a chance you can start over. At the very least, you’re not alone.

“Alright,” you say, meeting Wade’s gaze with newfound determination. “I’ll give this a shot.”

Wade’s grin stretches wide, genuine. “That’s the spirit, Y/n! I knew you had it in you.” He throws an arm around your shoulder, squeezing a little too tight. “And hey, if it ever gets too tough, just remember—you’ve got us.”

You nod, letting yourself lean into the odd but reassuring presence of Wade by your side. For the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe there’s a path forward, one you don’t have to walk alone.

And with this crazy group, maybe that path won’t be as empty as the one you were on before.

if you liked the story don't forget to like, reblog and leave a comment if you want!

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

(cw in tags if you wish)

Five: Sirius

Athens, Greece

Sirius wasn’t reckless. He thought before he did—probably too much sometimes. He kept himself in line. Maybe it was a product of a strict upbringing. A smack on the cheek or hand at one wrong move. He used to think it was what made him so good for the agency. Salazar liked strict. They liked obedient. James, therefore, hadn’t quite made sense to Sirius as a candidate, at least not in the beginning. Not until he showed Sirius that it wasn’t just about following orders. It was about heart, too. Camaraderie. Remus had shown him that, too. Still, Sirius couldn’t always shake that rule-following kid.

But if Remus was on the rooftops getting shot at by Jack Archer, who had just been holding a gun to Logan and Finn’s heads, all bets were off.

Jack was smart though. He took Sirius right through the now bustling Christmas market. Small children strapped the the chests of fathers. Women in groups laughing and catching up over coffee. Carolers by a central fountain. Sirius caught glimpses of alarmed eyes as he ran, always keeping the back of Jack’s head just in sight. He tried not to add to the mess on the street, narrowly avoiding the cart Jack had carelessly rolled into his path. He sprinted past the pissed vendor. He knew he should hide his gun. Lights blurred beside him and the sun came out from behind a cloud, then went again. His feet pounded the pavement. The streets narrowed. Jack stumbled on the stones in front of a cafe, sending cups shattering to the cobblestones and making a shop owner run out and shout at him. For a second, Sirius thought he was going to catch up. He swiped forward at the fabric of Jack’s shirt, but Jack rolled and then was up on his feet again. Sirius lunged. He didn’t care who was watching. He didn’t care if they saw his gun. His arms wrapped around Jack’s waist and they both hit the cobblestones hard, rolling into another table. Sirius felt something hot splash against his neck, something sharp dig into the skin of his wrist.

Jack was up again in a moment, using a hard kick to Sirius’ ribs to knock the wind out of him. Sirius gasped, coughing as he scrambled up from the ground and away from the alarmed onlookers. He yanked the shard of ceramic out of his arm. Jack slipped around a bend in the street—but this was one Sirius recognized. He’d chased Remus—or the ghost of Remus—right into this corner.

When he held his gun up on Jack, Jack’s hands were around the bars of the very gate Sirius had run into their first day here.

“Dead end, Archer,” Sirius said. “Now tell me why you’re here.”

Jack at least knew when he’d been caught. His shoulders moved quickly, breathing hard as he rested his forehead against the gate.

“Did you know?” Sirius could hardly say the words. “Did you know they were alive?”

“Sirius—”

“Get the fuck down,” Sirius said, striding closer until they were both hidden in the alleyway. He risked a glance behind him. “On your knees.”

Jack went, knocking the damp hair out of his face with a jerk of his head. Sirius could see both of their breath fogging between them. “We didn’t know. Not until Leo found Remus.”

“And you want them dead.”

Jack’s mouth formed a thin line.

Sirius didn’t have time for this. His mind kept skipping back, trying to figure out who had been shooting from the roof. RemusRemusRemus.

“Why?” Sirius asked. “Why do you want them dead? They’re our own, what changed? And I swear to God, answer me, or I’ll bring you to James.”

James was sweet. James was funny. James was relaxed and kind and easy-going.

James could also get information out of anyone. He was their top interrogator, had been since the academy. How do you do it? Sirius had once asked. Sirius had never liked seeing terrified faces up close. James had gotten a sad, faraway look on his face. I pretend they have Lily. And Harry. And then I don’t feel so guilty. I just want them to talk. I make them talk.

Jack seemed to have heard the rumors because he paled. “Listen. This is Salazar. You’re here to find them and bring them in. That’s all I’m here for, too.”

Sirius thought briefly of telling Jack about Logan’s memory, but Remus’ careful hazel eyes filled his mind. Unsure. Untrusting.

“Why pull the gun?”

Jack’s eyebrow arched. “Tremblay was holding a gun on his own husband. Who, by the way…” Jack made a scornful sound. “Should not be here.”

It was Sirius’ turn to stay silent. It was a sensible response, but that didn’t mean Sirius believed him.

“What,” Jack laughed a little. “You think we wouldn’t know?”

“I couldn’t stop him.”

“Liar.”

“That makes two of us, then,” Sirius said. “Why are you here?”

“Is he turned?” Jack asked in a hushed voice, eyes dark. “Is Lupin?”

“Turned where? By who?”

Jack shook his head slowly. “Liar.”

“I’m not.” Sirius swallowed over a dry throat. At least, not entirely. Pascal. Pascal, whoever he was.

“You don’t want to get on our bad side, Black,” Jack said. His hand twitched, maybe towards a knife, and Sirius stretched his gun forward. Jack’s smile was tight. “I think Tremblay’s enough proof of that.”

Sirius stared at him. “What the hell does that mean?”

Jack opened his mouth to answer, but stopped as though his words had frozen in his mouth. He snapped his lips shut, then a strained cough escaped. A twitch went through his body, almost like a pulse of electricity, and he sat back against his heels. Sirius hesitated, watching Jack blink fast at the cobblestones before raising his eyes to Sirius.

“Who the hell are you?” Jack asked, eyes darting between the two guns. He scrambled backwards, the gate rattling when it hit his back. “What the hell?”

Sirius froze. He clicked the safety off on his own gun. “Don’t bullshit me, Archer.”

Jack blinked at him, eyes unfocused. “I…”

Another twitch, a strange pulse through his body. Jack gasped. A thin trickle of blood ran from his nose. He swayed where he was, and his hands went to his head. “Ah—” Sirius watched his face screw up in pain. Jack stared up at him. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Jack—” Sirius began to say, but then Jack fell against the pavement, as suddenly as if someone had pushed him, with a harsh thud.

Sirius felt something cold squeeze around his throat. Dread, maybe. Adrenaline. Slowly, he lowered the guns, tucking one into his belt and swinging the other behind him, doing a quick scan of what little of the street he could see. He raised it up towards the roofs, then crouched in front of Jack.

His eyes were open, lips parted, blood quickly drying on his skin. He was dead.

“Jesus,” Sirius whispered. “Jesus, fuck—” His hand went for his radio, and then he paused. It was Salazar’s radio.

If anyone had told Sirius just a week ago that that would make him pause, he would have laughed.

Sirius checked Jack’s pulse—nothing—and then cursed as he heaved his body up against the wall as best he could. There was no point in trying to move him, not with the city waking up. Someone would have to find him like this. Sirius turned Jack’s collar up, closed his eyes, and took the wires off of him. He took his knives—all the ones he could feel anyway—and the second, small gun he found tucked into his boot.

He walked in the opposite direction of the cafes, towards the still mostly sleeping residential streets. There had been no blood, not that much anyway, but Sirius checked his hands and front before calling out to a man sweeping the steps in front of his house with a cigarette between his teeth.

The man didn’t put up much of a fight, just handed Sirius his cellphone before waving him off and going back to the chore.

The line picked up immediately.

“Lion den,” Sirius said into the tone. It was their secure line. If Salazar knew about it, they’d be dead, but Finn’s tracker wasn’t the first illegal backup Leo had set up. James hadn’t seen the point, hadn’t seen what they’d ever have to hide any comms, but Leo had insisted. Now, Sirius was glad. After Archer and Remus and Logan, he didn’t know who to trust. A headache was building at the back of his skull.

“We’re not at the house,” Leo said instead of hello. “After Archer, I didn’t think we should go back there.”

“He’s dead,” Sirius said.

He heard Leo’s sharp inhale. “Sirius—”

“It wasn’t me,” Sirius said. “We were running, I got him. And then he didn’t recognize me all of a sudden. A minute later, he was dead.”

Sirius’ heart was going so hard he had to press a hand there. The sweeping man didn’t even look up. The gray light hurt his eyes.

“Where are you?” Sirius asked. “Leo. Are you all together?”

“He’s dead?” Leo asked. “But—how? And what do you mean he didn’t recognize you?”

“I don’t know, I thought he was fucking with me, because maybe he knew Logan—but how would he know Logan couldn’t remember? I…” Sirius pressed at his eyes. It was as though someone was shining a spotlight right in his eyes. It ached. “I don’t know, Le. Where are you? Where are you?”

“Sirius,” Leo said. “I can’t find—I can’t find you.”

“What?”

“I can’t find you—Jesus, here, I’m dropping this number our coordinates—but Sirius, your tracker’s offline.”

Sirius felt the phone vibrate with the incoming text. He looked, memorizing quickly. It would disappear entirely in a minute, erasing itself.

“He didn’t recognize you?” Leo asked. “He didn’t…”

“Leo,” Sirius said, and then dropped to a knee. God, his very bones ached. His skull.

“Oh God,” Leo said faintly, and then, a little farther away from the phone, he shouted. “James!”

Sirius ducked away from the gray light. The cold wind. His head was killing him. “Fuck.”

“Eh!” The man stopped sweeping, looking at him. He said something fast in Greek, but Sirius was hopeless to translate just then.

“Sirius,” Leo said, voice closer now. “You’re tracker. Cut it out right now.”

“What?” Sirius asked.

“Cut out your tracker right now,” Leo shouted. “You said Jack forgot and then he was dead, there’s nothing that would cause that except—” Leo cut off with a short cry.

“Leo?” Sirius said.

He heard Finn’s voice in the background. Leo! Oh my God—

Then Leo’s. Cut it out, Finn. Right there, remember, feel it? Finn, stop fucking staring, do it, do it, it’s going to kill me and James—

“Finish?” the man asked him, alarmed. He was holding out his hand for his phone, but didn’t look like he wanted to get much closer to Sirius. “Hey, finish? Finish?”

“Help,” Sirius said. “Please—” He pulled the Greek out but he didn’t know how. Autopilot, maybe. “Sir, please may I use your bathroom? It’s life or death.”

The man began to shake his head, but Sirius didn’t have time—he shouldn’t have even asked. The man shouted as Sirius hauled himself up and stumbled past him. He shouldered through the small, wooden door and found himself in a living room—tidy and smelling of cinnamon and coffee. It connected right with the kitchen, not unlike their safe house. The dim lamp by the sofa stung his eyes, glaring as if it were a sun. Sirius blinked hard, looking for something sharp, anything.

“Hey!” The man tried to grab his shoulder, but Sirius shook him off easily. There was a knife, small, laying beside a sliced lemon. Sirius grabbed it and all but fell against the sink. A small vase on the window sill above slipped and shattered into the basin.

The man’s protests was no more than a ringing in Sirius’ ear as he groped at the back of his own neck. What the hell are you doing? Are you insane? Are you sick? Hey, my wife and children will be back soon, come on, brother, don’t scare them. Put the knife down, put the knife down—

There. Sirius felt the bump. Was he imagining that it was hot to the touch? It didn’t matter.

He didn’t even feel the pain of the blade. His adrenaline was so high that it felt like nothing at all. Butter. A slip. Only the red on his hands let him know that he had succeeded. That, and the small, pill-like chip clutched between his fingers.

The pain evaporated and Sirius drew in a ragged breath.

No sooner had he dropped the tracker into the sink than did it let out a high-pitched sound and crack itself in half.

His hearing returned. He blinked his vision back to normal. He worked the pressure out of his jaw. The tracker released a thin trail of smoke.

Sirius, he tested. Sirius Black. He knew himself. He knew the coordinates.

When he turned, breathing hard and sweating, he grabbed an old, dirty looking cloth and pressed it to his neck. It didn’t look like anyone would miss it. The man was simply staring at him, eyes darting between his face and the device in the sink.

“Thank you.” Sirius breathed the words out. Greek, or at least half way there. “I am sorry. I am sorry.”

Without another word, Sirius raced out the door.

+++

The coordinates were an abandoned building right on the coast. Sirius could smell the salt. The cold air was made colder by damp. He had stopped the bleeding of his neck and turned up his collar to keep the rag in place. Everything felt wet and slippery now. Recent rain on the rocks beneath his feet as he walked up an old pathway.

There was nothing inside, it was merely a somewhat reasonable roof of their heads. Shelter, nothing more. Just broken down boards and stone walls now.

To anyone else, it looked empty.

Sirius whistled two notes.

Two notes returned from his left where the sea and horizon bled into each other, framed by a still standing window. It could have been a painting. A TV.

James appeared in front of it, wild hair haloed by the light.

“Fuck,” James said, and then they were hugging. Sirius face ended up near a slightly pink bandage on James’ neck, and he sighed his relief all over again.

“Fuck me, we had a bomb in our head the whole time, Si.” James reached up and brushed the bandage with light fingers. “Just an average day on the job.” His eyes went to Sirius’ neck. “What did you do it with?”

“Fucking kitchen knife, man. You?”

James’ laugh was shaky. “One of my daggers on Leo and I. Finn did it. Think he’s a little freaked, but he did it.”

“Oh Jesus, I should have…” Sirius shook his head. He had his own and he had Jack’s. “Didn’t have to traumatize this…God, never mind. I fucking broke into someone’s house.”

James laughed again, but he looked pale. “It’ll be fine. I was so scared I didn’t even feel it.”

“Same.”

James raised his eyebrows. “Jack?”

“I left him,” Sirius said. “Took everything off him. People will think…I don’t know. But there’s nothing to lead back to Salazar or us.”

James nodded, taking that in. “Salazar’ll be looking for us now that they can’t find us.”

Sirius nodded. “I know… I know they will. We have to move.” They began walking towards the sea window. “How did you end up here? Where are the others?”

“Finn and Leo are with Logan.”

Logan. God, Sirius hadn’t forgotten, of course he hadn’t forgotten, but what a strange thing to hear. After all these months, just a simple Finn and Leo are with Logan.

No sooner had James said it than did the Leo appear. He had an identical bandage to James and held one out to Sirius, along with an alcohol packet.

“Clean that,” Leo said.

Sirius tossed the bloody rag away. “Did yours smoke, too?”

“Yeah,” Leo said. “The second I started to get a headache—Finn said that’s what happened to Logan, too. Said he fell down in pain. But…” Leo frowned in the way he did when he was thinking something over, when something was so entirely perplexing to him that he was sure to pull an all nighter. Sirius had seen him many times after those. Blond hair a mess, coffee mugs lined up besides the water and the electrolyte packets.

“Where…” Sirius began to say. He’d only gotten a glimpse of Logan and it was beginning to feel more like a dream. His slack face. There had been blood? Hadn’t there?

Leo moved aside, revealing a half-collapsed hallway. No, it was more like an nave. Sirius looked up and realized that the remnant of a vaulted ceiling remained, stone and precarious. This had been a church.

Wind whistled through, a high note off the sea, when Sirius saw them. Finn and Logan were at the other end, a corner mostly intact and protected from the cold. Finn was awake, staring down at Logan’s face like he couldn’t stand to look away, not even for a moment. Logan was—asleep?

“Knocked out.” Leo filled in his thoughts. “Finn said he remembered him in the alley, but he’s been out ever since.”

“And his tracker?”

“It’s gone,” Leo said. “I checked.”

“But if Salazar wanted him dead…”

Leo nodded, already there. “Then whoever took it out probably saved his life."

“But he can’t remember us,” Sirius said.

Leo rubbed a hand through his hair, then pressed his fingers to his mouth, thinking. There was blood beneath his nails still, a crust of red even smeared along his jaw. Sirius had the sudden urge to wipe it away for him.

“You said Jack forgot who you were a second before he was killed,” Leo said. “I’m guessing—and this is only a guess—that this is some sort of…kill code put into place in Salazar’s tracker hardware. A memory wipe in case we get captured, and then a kill switch if there’s no hope or if we might crack and tell all.”

“Jesus,” James whispered.

“I’m guessing whoever took out Logan’s didn’t do it in time to prevent the memory wipe. And that’s calling it real close, I don’t know…”

Remus. Sirius could hardly breathe. If he hadn’t seen that footage for himself, he’d be on his knees all over again, desperate and afraid.

“Can you reverse it?” James asked. He was chewing on a thumbnail, looking down the hall. “God, please say you can Leo.”

Leo let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know.” He looked down the stone archways towards Finn. As the three of them watched, Finn reached out a hand and brushed Logan’s hair back from his eyes gently. “I don’t know.”

[apomaro-mellow]

Mafia AU 6 / AO3 Link

Part 5

Eddie didn’t get a call for a couple of days after their little sparring session. When he did, he was only told to meet him at a tailor’s in town. While getting ready, Eddie checked himself over in the mirror and considered going to Steve with his hair down for once. He was aware that those in high society didn’t appreciate his sense of style. But Steve had mentioned something about having a trademark. He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to be his hair though.

In the end, he kept it up in a ponytail as he usually did. Maybe once the weather cooled, he’d have an excuse to let it down. For now though, he’d leave it as is.

Eddie had never been inside a tailor shop. Never had a need or even the means for bespoke clothing. But Steve was already sitting in a chair, deep in discussion with a man who clearly worked there.

“I see what you mean. Yes, it is quite urgent.”

“Thank you for taking it on such short notice”, Steve said.

Eddie found himself being approached with measuring tape and he took a step back, holding his hands up. “Whoa, whoa, what’s the big idea here?”

“Just let Enrico do his magic”, Steve said, still sitting. “There’s an event happening soon, and I can’t let you show up in the same suit you’ve been wearing.”

Enrico made Eddie hold his arms out to the side and Eddie kept them up, understanding about only half of what was going on. Steve was getting him a new suit? For what? A party?

“You’re getting me a new suit?”

“Three. At least. It’ll have to do for now.”

Enrico tutted under his breath as he got Eddie’s measurements. “You were right about him.”

“Right about who? About what?”, Eddie asked, trying to follow Enrico as he moved around his body but also getting the feeling he should stand absolutely still. That was what people did at these fitting things, right?

Steve stood and sauntered over. Gently, he pushed Eddie’s arms back down. “I told him that you looked a little rough but underneath it all something special was waiting to shine through.”

Enrico chose that moment to measure up Eddie’s inseam and he all but jumped right into Steve’s arms. Steve grinned, keeping him upright and Eddie felt like this was all some kind of game that he didn’t know the rules of. Steve moved back and started perusing material around the store.

“Do I really need three?”, Eddie asked, grasping at something to say.

“While being sponsored, you represent me. And if you pass, it’ll be even more so. If you look ragged, I look weak. And like I don’t take care of my own.”

Eddie tried not think of how much this bill could run. “So I guess you’ll take these suits out of my first paycheck”, he teased, but was also seriously asking.

Enrico had finished and was now writing something on a notepad. Steve turned away from a selection of ties to look him up and down.

“It’s not like that. Think of it as an investment in you. I’ve never sponsored anyone. I’m hoping I get it right the first time around.”

“What happens if you get it wrong?”, Eddie asked.

Steve shrugged. “Usually the guy gets offed. Knows too much about us, you know? Can’t let him go on. I did hear that one time they let a guy go free but only after cutting his tongue. But I heard that story from this guy at a party and they like to exaggerate.”

Eddie swallowed. He knew he absolutely HAD to make it through this. But he hadn’t thought long enough about what would happen if he didn’t. If he pissed Steve off or if he didn’t do right by him. He liked having a tongue. And a life too.

“Speaking of parties, what’s this little soiree you’ve got planned?”

-----------------------

Eddie should’ve known that if Steve was putting up the money for new clothes, it wouldn’t be little. It was still being held at the Marini home (or was it the Harrington home now?) but there were more people this time. And some of them looked…normal. Every other time Eddie had seen people gathered here, it had just been the men, on the premises to discuss business.

But now he was seeing wives and children, all dressed to the nines. Steve had told him it was all in celebration of his grandfather’s birthday. It made sense that they went above and beyond to honor the previous boss. Eddie had put on one of the new suits Steve had bought for him and could feel the difference in quality immediately.

When he looked in the mirror, he could see how much better it fit him too. He didn’t look like some ruffian from the street right now. He looked like he could go and collect on behalf of his boss on his own. Like he had real credibility. Still, Eddie didn’t think it wise to try and stand out tonight.

There were plenty of bigwigs and like Steve said, he was repping his sponsor. So he stayed close to Steve’s side for the evening. Which also meant being close to Steve’s friend, who was named Robin. She’d given Eddie an odd side glance, but then ignored him for the most part. Not for the first time, Eddie wondered what her role was. She’d been hidden in that room when Steve had tried seducing him, and she’d been around in the maze that one time, but never on any of their outings.

Was she just a friend? Or was there something more going on here?

It should be said that while she didn’t talk directly to Eddie, it didn’t mean she was silent. Every time she spoke up though, it was in Italian, and Steve responded back, keeping the conversation between them. Eddie didn’t know if that meant he was the topic of the discussion or if it was actually secret family business. Either way, it was beginning to irk him.

“I’m going to go and talk to my grandfather. You two stay here. And play nice”, Steve said.

“...Was he saying that to you or to me?”, Eddie asked, breaking the ice.

Robin crossed her arms. “Either one, I guess.”

“Ah, she does speak the common tongue.”

“I speak four languages, jackass. And if you’ve got any hope for your future, you’d do well to follow along.”

“I’ve picked up a few phrases”, Eddie said. “Mostly naughty words, which are, you know, the best ones. But I guess my superiors wouldn’t want to be told ‘suca’, huh?”

“God, not with that pronunciation”, Robin laughed, cracking a smile for the first time that evening. 

“Care to give me some pointers on proper Italian, then?”

“You’re gonna need it if you’re serious about all this”, Robin gestured to the room where mobsters were mingling.

“I don’t do anything half-assed. I’m in it to the end.”

“And to what end, exactly is that?”, Robin asked. “Why are you here?”

It was such a bold question, Eddie was caught off guard. No one had ever asked him why. Or even if he wanted to. A couple goons offered him money for a job and he took it and kept taking it. Then the sponsorship had been dropped in his lap without any real input from him.

“I want a better life for me and my uncle. And if being loyal to this family gets me there, then that’s what I’ll be.”

“Loyal to the Marinis? Or to the Harringtons?”

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask. What’s the difference?”, Eddie questioned.

“How much do you know about Steve’s family history?”, Robin asked.

Eddie thought about the bits and pieces he’d heard and gleaned. “Mom married an outsider, now he’s the boss.”

Robin hummed and nodded, confirming that part. “Sounds like you could use a crash course though.”

“I wouldn’t mind one”, Eddie said.

Robin led them over to a more secluded part of the room where they could sip and talk. “You got the summary right. Steve’s mom was a mafia princess. She was probably supposed to get with someone her dad, Steve’s grandfather over there set her up with. But she fell for this guy who had worked with the family but he wasn’t family , get it?”

Eddie nodded. Someone who wasn’t directly connected to them. Someone like him or Wayne. Well, Wayne was in now, so it was just Eddie. But he could change that.

“So anyway, it makes waves ‘cause she’s going against the grain. But her father approves it, lets them get married and all that. Steve’s grandpa retires and his son-in-law, Harrington inherits the title. Not long after that, Steve’s mom died.”

Eddie took a moment to look at Steve, who was no longer just with his grandfather, but with his dad and a couple of other men too. Eddie had a feeling about the missing mom, but he’d never confirmed it with anyone.

“Steve took his dad’s last name, which was a huge thing because in this world, the Harrington name means nothing. There’s this…divide I guess. The ones who support his dad and the ones who think he’s not right for the role of boss. And because they don’t like his dad, that means they don’t like Steve.”

“Why? Has he done anything?”, Eddie asked.

“That’s part of his problem. He can’t really do much since he presented as an omega.” Robin swirled her drink around. “It’s on him to get with a proper alpha and fix the Marini family.”

Eddie could guess what proper meant. Someone from a good family, for one. And they’d probably prefer someone Italian. Someone with similar roots to the Marinis. Someone who wasn’t an outsider. All of those guys who had seemed interested in Steve, Tommy included, all would have been accepted without much fuss, he was sure. Eddie was so out of his league, they were playing different sports.

Wai-why was he still trying to think of himself that way? He’d told Steve to his face there’d be no funny business. And then Steve had basically told him he would always fly solo. Eddie didn’t need to think about Steve’s marriage prospects because it had nothing to do with him right now.

Still, Eddie couldn’t help but think of Steve, raised up and under the tutelage of a mob boss only to be told his job was to marry someone every else thought was good enough for him, have that guy’s baby, and live out the rest of his days as an afterthought while that guy ran his family business. 

Steve found them from afar and waved them over to him.

“Is he waving to you or to me?”, Eddie asked.

Robin’s response was to lock arms with him. “Looks like we’re being summoned.”

Part 7

[t0ast-ghost]

S3 EP16 (The Mark Of Gideon) hmmm this sounds like something from supernatural…

I’m sorry I’ll never mention supernatural again:

- Sending Kirk down by himself? His boyfriends will be worried :((

- “I shall be interested in your description, Captain” “You won’t have long to wait.” This was said with so much lust

- Kirk calling to anyone and everyone. “Bones. Bones answer me.” D:

- Spock has immediate concern for his boyfriend

- Spock sees McCoy is on the bridge and immediately wants to escape to the planet. He’s not dealing with McCoy’s worry on top of his own

- “We must acknowledge once and for all that the purpose of diplomacy is to prolong a crisis.” Spock is so so angry he can’t go looking for his boyfriend

- “You mean you’re going to scan space for him.” My god he wants that man so bad. Scanning the entirety of space when he goes missing is not normal behaviour.

- Spock is very bitter towards bureaucrats and diplomats this episode and I agree

- Hey Kirk. Just this once buddy, don’t kiss her. Can you do that?

- On the video call McCoy looks seconds from snapping and Spock is right there with him

- I love when everyone was on Spock’s side like ‘yeah they fucking suck, I’m sorry bbygirl’

- Quilt ass vest

- Scotty is not going to take them besmirching his transporters

- Spock needs to go listen to Break Stuff

- Kirk’s ass It’s sad how sad Kirk is.

- pretty privilege

- “I envy you and your sense of loyalty. I want to ease your feeling of dread, your fear that all your crew no longer exists.”

- twenty four minutes and fifty seconds in. He’s kissing her.

- THE GREEN PEOPLE ARE JUST WATCHIJGBTHEM KISSWGAT

- ID BE SO FREAKED THE FUCK OUT NAH. No. Legitimate fear is to look out a window and see someone watching. this is a no.

- Time for me to ask what is happening

- Aaand they’re using Kirk in their little fucked up little experiments

- Spock is angy

- I like how there is legitimate character development. Spock and McCoy aren’t fighting, McCoy knows Spock is doing everything he can, short of just running in there. And Spock is getting visibly pissed off which McCoy I think would be proud of if their boyfriend wasn’t missing

- Kirk not afraid to fight some bitches

- “That’s the best possible decision you could make, Spock. I’m with you.” Kiss each other Character development yay!

- Spock is using ‘logic’ to break the rules and save Jim.

- Spock is protective of McCoy, McCoy is protective of Spock

- After Spock leaves Scotty walks up to McCoy with this look like he’s about to ask him if he’s dating Spock

- “I will not be long.” Is the equivalent of ‘I’ll be right back’ number one rule is never say it

- Trippy ass shippy

- If you’ve lived so long why are you dressed like that? Can’t contract a sickness AND can’t contract a sense of fashion

- This is awful

- Spock should’ve brought McCoy with him

- Spock THREW that man

- Spock is like, ‘don’t get in the way, I will bitch slap you.’ (Edit: three Spock comments in a row)

- PRETTY BOY PRIVILEGE (what’s got you smiling like that) if he smiled at me like that I wouldn’t survive

- “As crowded as my planet is, I wish for it to hold one more person.” *smiles* “Kirk to transporter control one to beam down to the planet Gideon.” ‘nah, bitch’

Development: I’ve found out how to cross things out I’ll use it for evil

Masterpost

Episode written by George F. Slavin & Stanley Adams

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

Hi!

You can ignore this ask if you want!

Honestly as I was writing one ask another popped up in my mind 🥹so I decided to do two ask instead of one so I didn't spam your inbox haha!

Also sorry for bothering you with these ideas.

What would platonic yandere Dick Grayson do for the readers birthday? Would he invite anyone that he is close to or even trust or would it just be him and reader sharing a cake as he sings happy birthday to them? And also maybe gives them a lot of presents but they are kind of childish if that makes sense.

The other ask would be what would again platonic yandere Dick Grayson do if by some chance the reader escaped from him? Would he freak out for a bit and than promptly go and look for them? And once he finds them he's furious and the reader is scared because they have never seen him that angry or show that type of emotion before?

Again you can ignore this if you want I know I wrote a lot I was just so excited and the ideas popped into my head!

LOVE ALL THE WORKS YOU'VE DONE!

HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY OR NIGHT!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘�� 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆…

!!! GN reader, infantilizing, mentions of kidnapping, handcuffs, forced-affection, pissed off Dick Grayson, brief mention of drugging, reader fears being hit for a second.

(ANON, I LOVE REPEAT OFFENDERS IN MY INBOX. DON’T YOU DARE FEEL BAD FOR FEEDING ME ASKS. I’M HUNGRYYYYYYYYYYYY.)

Birthday parties depend on how compliant you are. If you’re not trying to escape every other day, he’d gladly invite some of the Titans over to celebrate! He likes showing off his cool hero connections to you — even going as far as to play the “oh, Superman? His mother makes the best apple pie” card — so this would be a good way to live up to the hype. A lot of the party would be spent taking on your behalf, however. He just thinks he knows you that well (and he doesn’t want you to form a connection with anyone else; he’s the only one you need in your life!!). I can also see him laying down ground rules to the other Titans beforehand, practically threatening them to be on their best behavior. Big brother’s friends must be good role models to his young and impressionable sibling!!

Now, I already said that it depends on how compliant you are, but it also depends on what your situation is, too. I lowkey kinda imagine all of the platonic Dick Grayson asks to take place in the same universe as Life With Older Brother, which means everyone knows you’re under Dick’s care, and it’s pretty much the only scenario where inviting people to your birthday would work. But if you were kidnapped, it would be a different story. He’s not risking anyone finding out about you (which complicates his relationship with a very young Tim Drake, who would totally accidentally stumble upon you in the apartment, but that’s a story for another day), so even if you were very complacent, I don’t see him inviting anyone over.

Back to the Life With Older Brother universe, if you “misbehave” a lot, it would just be the two of you. He’d almost hold it over your head, sadly sighing as he says things like, “it would’ve been a bigger party this year, but only good little siblings get big birthday parties.” If you were a fucking child, maybe this dumb guilt-tripping tactics would actually work. If you try to cut your two-person party short by spending the rest of the day in your room, he’s not above wrestling you into his lap — or even handcuffing you to the kitchen table — so you can open your presents; and holy shit, there’s a lot of them. I can definitely see him getting you childish things, ranging from toys to innocent-looking kiddy clothes. Any gifts sent by Bruce are taken back to the store for return.

As for escaping…

There’s no way you’d manage to pull-off an escape while he’s in the apartment, so it’d be a nasty surprise for him when he returns from patrol. He’d frantically tear the place apart in search of you, his stomach dropping as he finds the clues of your apparent escape. Once he checks the security feed, he feels equal parts worried, heartbroken, and angry that you took it upon yourself to leave him. You really don’t know what’s good for you, do you?! You’d rather run around on dangerous streets than stay with your kind, loving, doting older brother…

His search probably wouldn’t take long. I can see him putting a tracker in your arm at some point, so it’s as simple as following the little red dot on his device. Relief washes over him when he sees you’re alright, but that does little to quell the betrayal rage he feels. He’s silently swoop down from above, forcefully picking you up from behind as he grapples back towards the apartment. You’d kick and thrash, plead and beg, but there’s nothing but radio silence on his end. The only inkling of a reaction you get is his tight frown and his extremely restrictive arm around your abdomen. Dread washes over your chest as you realize just how fucked you are.

Upon returning home, he practically throws you against his bed and spares no time handcuffing you to the headboard. Any sort of apologies you try to muster out immediately die on your tongue as he rips off his mask, his piercing blue eyes filled with an icy rage you’ve never seen before. It makes you want to curl into a little ball and wish you were never born.

“I don’t know what to do with you,” he’d lowly mutter, exasperation sprinkled between the gaps of his anger. There’s a moment where you think he’s going to start one of his signature lectures, but no such thing happens. Instead, he turns to the wall and punches it, causing you to flinch at the impact. Never has he shown this type of aggression in front of you. He’s yelled at you, sure, but physically punched something?

For the first time, you found yourself worrying if he’d put his hands on you.

I think he’d have to convince himself to cool off for a bit. First triple-checking that you couldn’t escape (possibly imposing more precautions like double restraints or the IV), he’d leave the apartment for another patrol, taking his anger out on any poor criminal he comes across. I’d say it takes an hour before he feels level-headed enough to come back home, his suit speckled with blood from viscous beat-down after viscous beat-down. It’s the first thing you notice when he comes through his bedroom window, causing your heart rate to pick up.

He wants so desperately to scream at you; he needs to get it through your thick skull that you’re safe here, and he’s the only one in the world who knows how to care for you and protect you. But that will come later. Right now, all he wants to do is bring you into a longing and desperate hug, not even taking the time to change out of his Nightwing suit beforehand.

You’d be held against him for a while, his trembling hands making sure you have no chance of squirming out of his hold. It may be suffocating, but at the very least, it quells your fears of him taking his anger out on you.

[ominous-feychild]

Incorrect Quotes Tag

Rule: use this generator to create “incorrect quotes” for characters in your wip!

This tag was going around for a bit months back, but I'm reviving it!

WAVES OF MISFORTUNE

Zarina: I’m telling you, my team is competent. Cricket, rushing in: Zarina! Yesval tried to make pasta in the coffee pot and now it's broken!

Flavie: What are your adjectives? Yesval: …You mean my pronouns? Flavie: No, I know what your pronouns are! What are your adjectives? Yesval: …I dunno. What are yours? Flavie: Noisy and chaotic! Yesval: I’ve never had something go from making no sense to making complete sense so quickly.

Yesval: Do you ever get pre-annoyed? Like you already know someone is going to piss you off? Flavie: What? No, I— Benji: *enters room* Yesval: *jaw clenches*

Flavie: *gasp* Yesval: wHAT?? Flavie: What if soy milk is just milk introducing itself in Spanish? Yesval: *inhales* Tián, in another room with Benji: Why can I hear screeching?

Benji: ARE YOU- Tián: Fucking. Benji: KIDDING ME?! YOU- Tián: Fucking. Benji: IDIOT! Cricket: …What was that? Tián: Zarina banned Benji from swearing, so I’m helping him out.

Cricket, shakily: Please, just tell me what the book is about. The plot, please. Benji, reading an annotation on the cover of a book, unfazed: A subversive masterpiece. A deep and touching story. New York Times Bestseller. Cricket, now looking directly at Benji: Go fuck yourself.

Benji: Do dragons fart fire? Cricket: I don't know. Benji: I thought you went to college.

Cricket: Please pray for Benji. Tián: What happened to him? Cricket: Nothing, he's just very stupid.

Tián, at an awards show: Well, first of all, I’d like to thank Benji, the love of my life, for telling me Flavie was going to win so don’t bother to prepare a speech.

Tián: Wanna get out of here and grab a bite to eat? Benji: I don’t usually eat with losers. Tián: Neither do I but I asked you, didn’t I?

Tián: I love being right. It’s one of my favorite personality traits.

Zarina: What are you two arguing about this time? Benji: She's always using common phrases incorrectly! Flavie: Cry me a table, Benji.

Flavie: What do you guys do when you're stressed? Zarina: Try and calm myself down! Benji: Sleep. Cricket: Get myself into even more stress, so that the first reason for my stress gets cancelled out. Yesval: I don't.

Tián: Good night. Benji: Sleep tight. Yesval: Don't let the bedbugs crawl up to your ear and whisper threatening things that make you question yourself. Zhihao: Great, now Benji's crying.

Flavie, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

Flavie: Is this a good idea? Flavie: Probably not. Flavie: Do I care? Flavie: No.

Tián: I think Flavie is in trouble. Yesval: Alright. Struggling to give a fuck, if I’m honest.

Flavie: Benji, what are you doing tomorrow? Benji: Having my day ruined by whatever you’re about to ask me to do.

Benji: My goal is not to be the best, but to inspire someone enough to one day surpass me. Flavie: YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT EVERY TIME YOU BEAT ME AT CONNECT FOUR!

Flavie: Benji told me I was found in a KFC bucket next to a dumpster and I was rescued. Yesval: You probably were. Flavie: Oh crap, maybe that's the reason why. Maybe my lackluster feelings towards their fried chicken is because subconsciously I'm reliving the trauma whenever I see their trademark bucket. My brain and cognitive dissonance won't let me completely lie to myself and say I hate their food, because fried chicken is great and I want some now, instead it just steers me away. Thank you for helping to guide me towards this epiphany, perhaps now the healing can begin.

Zarina: What makes you all smile? Tián: Friends and Family. Flavie: Snacks. Benji: Victory and success. Yesval: Face muscles.

Benji: All the sudden I got a random burst of energy, and I think it's my body's last hurrah before it completely shuts down.

Benji, spraying a melted cutting board with a tiny water gun: We gotta cool this bitch down. Cool it down. Flavie: I actually just put the cutting board in the oven... Cricket, visibly confused: Okay, so they decided to put the cutting board in the oven? Benji, spraying Flavie: You FUCKING DUMBASS! Flavie: Dude, I forgot- Benji: OH MY FUCKING GOD! We're trying to make Chicken Alfredo right now, and you fucking MELT the cutting board in the oven at 400 DEGREES FAHRENHEIT!? Zarina: *Watching in complete confusion while trying to process this whole situation.*

Flavie: Why would anyone want to harm Benji? Yesval: Maybe because they met him?

*the TV is freaking out* Tián: Don’t worry, you have to treat an electronic like you treat a patient on life support. *unplugs the TV, then plugs it back in again. nothing changes* Tián: Yeah, that didn’t work with my grandma either.

Zarina: Ayo, what the FUCK is this?!? Yesval, sitting down, surrounded by corpses: I won Mafia, that’s what.

Flavie: *sharpens knife* We've got ways of making people talk. Flavie: *cuts piece of cake* Benji: ... Can I have some? Flavie: Cake is for talkers.

RISING FROM THE ASHES

Kieva, slamming pots and pans together to the rhythm of "Give it to me, I'm worth it": I didn't get no sleep cause a' y'all! Y'all never gonna sleep cause a' me!

Carmin: When life gives you lemons, what do you do? Sammy: Make lemonade! Carmin: No, throw them back up in the sky and make life deal with it’s own shit.

Kieva: Your smile looks forced. Carmin: That’s because it is.

Tián: I started school with straight A’s. Now I’m not even straight.

Kieva: I need life advice. Tián, sipping Gatorade and eating cookie dough: You came to the right person.

Tián: Do you ever think? Because I do not.

Caron: That's it, you're grounded! Tián, no adventures for you! Roman, no fighting for you! Taj, no stealing for you! And Al... oh gods, is there anything you love? Al: Revenge. Caron: No vengeance for you. Al: I was going to say "I'll get you for this," but I guess that's off the table.

Tián: And if you have any suggestions, please put them in the suggestion box. Kieva: That’s a trash can.

Mei: Are you this rude to everyone?! Carmin: Yup. Carmin: Don't think you're special.

Carmin: You’re kind of a pushover, aren’t you, Mei? Mei: … I’m sorry. Carmin: See!? That’s exactly what I’m talking about!

Mei: Do you mind if I slyly mention that you’re single? Carmin: Do not do that. Mei: You won’t even notice! Kieva, entering: Mei, you wanted to see me again? Mei: Carmin's single Carmin:

Mei: Did you win? Or just not die? Mei: Either way, hooray. Carmin: ...Is "no" a valid answer? Mei: The hooray is redacted and you frighten me.

Sammy: Of course I have a lot of pent-up rage, you fool! I've been the same height since I was twelve!

Police Officer: You have the right to remain silent. Sammy: I choose to waive that right! Sammy: *screams*

Flavie: So... who's the big spoon and who's the little spoon? Aditi: We're chopsticks! Flavie: Well... that's cute! Flavie: Does that mean you two snuggle together perfectly? Tián: No, it means that if you take the other away, the only thing the other is good for is stabbing.

Aditi: I’m so happy two of my favorite people are getting along now. Carmin: Uh, Tián and Taj are not getting along. Aditi: They’re not trying to kill each other. Carmin: You may have a point.

Zain: You’re alive. Roman: No need to sound so disappointed.

Elazi: Alright, so the vampire's gravestone is— Roman: Cenotaph. Elazi: What? Roman: It's only a gravestone if it marks the location of a body. A monument honouring someone whose body isn't present is a cenotaph. Elazi: I'm... not sure that's how it works if the body gets up and walks away on its own. Roman: There's a precedent for gravestones being reclassified as cenotaphs if the body is later removed and reinterred elsewhere. There's no rule that says the body itself can't do the removing. Elazi: Okay, but the body is very much coming back. That's kind of what we're here to accomplish. Roman: So it's a temporary cenotaph. Elazi: And naturally our greatest concern here is avoiding semantic ambiguity. Roman: Semantic ambiguity is how vampires get you.

Elazi: Do you want to know your gay name? Roman: My... my gay name? Elazi: Yeah, it's your first name- Roman: Haha. Very funny Elazi- Elazi: *gets down on one knee* And my last name. Roman: Oh- oh my god.

Tagging (no pressure!): @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@the-letterbox-archives @48lexr @aalinaaaaaa @thecomfywriter @an-indecisive-nerd

@seastarblue @leahnardo-da-veggie @world-of-iridensia

Banners from @saradika

[tired-biscuit]

this is like maybe a little specific and really just me rambling

but FIRST of all im obsessed with your portrayal of kiba. he's like always been my fav but his content is so limited so its been away since my imagination flew but phew these last few days reading your blog has been a journey.

but back to the ramble ive been thinking a lot of the brother's bsf trope for him. at first i was riding naru bc bros but then i thought about sasu and the whole prideful uchiha vibe. even in the modern version, then just being like these corporate giants alongside the hyugas and the other ‘noble’ clans. and like maybe kiba isn’t really bsfs with sasu but like the whole ‘genin’ growing up around each other thing. probably all just went through the same school system.

ANYWAY rambles

i imagine like the uchiha ‘princess’, the only daughter and youngest sibling to sasu and ita. and like she’s just really grown up with that whole corpo royalty vibe, getting everything she wants, always supervised low key suppressed LIKE NOTHING NEW HERE low-key maybe even loosely in talks of being engaged to one of the ally corps like hyugas or something the point is its SCREAMING corruption for kiba. like the forbidden fruit. subtle classism, like kiba’s family isn’t what the uchihas would envision for her but like I just imagine her sneaking out with her brother to a uni party or something (like maybe sasu got to go to a public uni and she got the private treatment) and just like bumping into kiba in all his alpha buff man-ness and just like that first spark of lust just like overwhelms her like doesn’t even know whats going on but OH BOY KIbA does and he’s just like ‘yeah I got what you need bbygirl’ and yeah. Asdfsjhkgrhgo I have a lot of thoughts sorry for all the words 🐣

i don’t see kiba and sasuke being friends because kiba is too big of a hater, BUT i think that would even add more to the appeal because, like… he can act like a real proper shithead towards the people he doesn’t particularly like, so scoring sasuke’s little sister? yeah, he’d definitely try it just to get a sense of some kind of victory from it.

and i think it’d be the initial motive at first — the whole ‘haha, i fucked your sister, whatcha gonna do ‘bout it?’ — but then one thing leads to another and suddenly he’s caught… feelings. feelings that he doesn’t really know how to comprehend yet, and it’s weird because you’re like his exact opposite; so fancy and with your nose upturned whenever he winds up in your presence, pushing your whole princess agenda forward. and he knows that he should find it annoying because you’re acting just like your equally as annoying brother, but instead he’s catching himself thinking about you more and more and he’s almost finding it entertaining. pestering you is almost fun to him.

i think he’d wonder what you’d look like without the make up and the pretty skirt. what you’d look like with messy hair instead of it being in that almosy eerie state where each strand is sitting perfectly in place. he wants to see actual sweat coating your face instead of that matt powder he’s seen you reapply once or twice before because you hate the shine on your forehead. he wants to fuck you nasty and ruin that idea of you being a perfect girl in every single situation just so that he can see what you’re really like underneath.

besides that, i also imagine him initially pursuing you because he hates, hates, hates the whole idea behind noble clans, as well as the set of strict, mostly unfair rules that they’ve got going on, because of what they did to hinata. so if you’re his ticket to fuck with them a little bit, hey, why not?

you would find him appealing because he just simply does not give a shit what anybody thinks. he might get pissed off if someone insults him, sure, but he still ends up doing whatever it is that he wants in that moment and he doesn’t apologize for it. plus, his clan is more like one big family instead of a picture on the wall where everyone is smiling their most perfect grin despite the fact that their eyes still end up looking cold.

he’s warm, you know? carefree and dumb and not uptight at all. he finds joy in the little things and instead of spending money on fancy dinners, he buys things cheap because he’s saving up for a roadtrip that he’s planning to go on this summer with his shitty truck. he doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty and he loves his dog more than most people.

…and he’s also the first man who actually looks you in the eyes and tells you you’re full of shit when you start acting bratty and deserve to be called out for it. he treats you like a person instead of delicate glass.

[polyklok]

Dethklok does not care about each other

They all know the rule; Do not show interest, care, or intervene with bandmate’s personal lives. That’s been set in stone from the beginning. They tolerate each other at most, borderline on hate. It’s what keeps the music genuine.

Nathan didn’t care when Pickles suddenly broke down into hard, silent sobs one night after getting a call from his mother, which has essentially been 45 minutes of insults and criticism. He wasn’t showing interest as he took Pickles into his arms, shushing him, gently telling him that all those awful things she said were completely untrue. Trying to reassure him that he was just as important to his family as his brother was, despite his parents never showing it, holding him close as Pickles heaved in his inhaler, pressing his cheek onto his back, listening to his heartbeat steadily decline in speed. He wasn’t intervening when he suggested that they watch Pickle’s favorite movie (Son in Law, 1993), share a bottle of whiskey, inevitably falling asleep while under the same blanket.

Or when William was having a particularly awful day, hiding away in his room to spend hours just staring at himself in the mirror, pointing out the most his greatest insecurities and all the smallest flaws to himself. Skwisgaar wasn’t concerned, not at all! He was just pissed to not have seen his bandmate all damn day when they had previously agreed to spend time together, and so he marched down to William’s room to chew him out when he found Murderface crying and yelling at Skwisgaar to “Go away!” Skwisgaar didn’t mean to yell back that Murderface was “Reallys not even thats bads, you’re beings a baby! You’re pretty enoughs for me!” And, just to prove it, suddenly pull him in for a kiss that left William absolutely breathless. It wasn’t care, he was just knocking sense into him, he’d do it again if he absolutely had to.

Even when Toki joined the band, backstage before his very first live show, nervously pacing and itching at the many scars along his arms, his cheeks flushed red and stinging with nerves, Pickles wasn’t being nice as he sat him down, taking Toki’s hands into his own to prevent anymore damage and guiding him through some deep breaths. Pickles let him take a few puffs off of his joint as he applied the band’s signature white and black face makeup to Toki, making sure to be gentle, and he told him, ‘Cahlm down, hun, yer gonna do just great,” just because he couldn’t have Toki screwing up on stage…not because it was worth it to see him relax and grow passionate as he played.

When Nathan has walked into the kitchen at some sort of ungodly hour of the night and found Murderface…cooking? He was shocked to catch William in the middle of cutting up a head of broccoli, even more shocked to find that whatever he was cooking smelled absolutely fantastic. William bashfully explained that he was craving his Grandmother’s ‘broccoli mac ‘n cheese casserole’ And didn’t trust Jean-Pierre to make it correctly and so decided to do it himself. Nathan said he’ll have some “If isn’t total shit.” And Murderface replied “Only if you don’t tell the othersch like an asschhole!” And so the two ate in a strangely comfortable silence, knees resting together under the table, hands occasionally brushing, only interrupted when Nathan noted it was “Pretty damn good.”

When Toki’s old, cheap, worn-down guitar he had bought in Norway finally broke, he was devastated. He kept insisting to the band that it played just fine, but no amount of duck tape or superglue had any hope helping it now. Skwisgaar understood how he felt, he had quite the emotional attachment to his own first guitar. So he reluctantly took Toki to go get a replica made, being very strict with the manufactures that it had to be just like the original. For the week it was being made, Skwisgaar even let Toki practice on his own guitar, sitting behind him, wrapping his arms around in order to properly place his fingers, Toki’s head going cloudy whenever he felt Skwisgaar’s hot breath on his neck gently muttering praise whenever he got something right.

When Pickles and William got absolutely shitfaced together, slurring song lyrics as they stumbled through the halls of Mordhaus, occasionally clinking together their bottles of booze before finally crashing down onto the couch. Murderface taking another glug, wiping his mouth, and then taking the time to truly look at his drinking partner. Laughing hysterically as Pickles raised an eyebrow, finally manage to chuckle out that he had the ‘hugestsch fuckin’ crusch on you in the ninetiesch, and now you’re here!…with me!” His eyes growing teary from a mixture of nostalgia and intoxication and incredible relief at the confession. When Pickles gently laughed along, keeping his eyes focused on the floor, ignoring the fact that they had a very similar night to this about a year ago, which has a very happy ending, that William had surely forgotten by now.

When Skwisgaar and Nathan were together in the recording studio; Nathan pacing back and forth whilst Skwisgaar watched from the couch, idly plucking at his guitar. Together, they pondered lyrics and melodies for their next album, scratching off anything that didn’t fit Dethklok’s branding to a tee whilst remaining exciting and original. Their ideas came together in unison, inching their faces closer only to pull away for the next proposal. Nathan darting out all the concepts from his brain at rapid speed, Skwisgaar managing to envision them within seconds and give him feedback. It was almost dance-like, graceful and balanced. After hours, the two finally agreed on a rough draft, just like they had accomplished many times before. But this time, right before he left the room, Skwisgaar gained the balls to put a single hand on Nathan’s chest, kiss his cheek, and mumble “Bra jobbat, vackert.”

When William had burst into Toki’s room to show of the authentic civil war Lemat pistol he had just won in an auction, only to be met with a confused smile and nod, as Toki knew very very little about America’s history. And so, while he continued to put together a model plane at his desk, Murderface stood behind him, very animatedly retelling the story of the Civil war, including details that no one except him would bother to remember. Toki would up occasionally, seeing William’s eyes absolutely sparkling as he spoke. About halfway through his rant, Murderface realized he was doing the exact thing people got so annoyed at him for, t the exact thing his grandmother used to scream at him for, “Ugsch…whatever, you probablych don’t care.” Toki stopped what he was doing, turning around to touch William’s hand, looking up at him with those glorious baby-blues and said “I do cares. Keeps going.”

When Skwisgaar had just been kicked out of the shitty, low-class band of Smugly Dismissed, his third one that year alone, not because of his playing or even cocky attitude, but because of his dumb, shitty English. It was late. He had been living in a too-small apartment with them, and so it just dawned on him he was currently homeless as well. He flopped onto the nearest park bench to clear his racing head. Tears of frustration pricked his eyes, angry at himself for not picking up the language nearly as quickly as he thought he would, angry at them for not being just a bit more patient. He swung the guitar around his torso, instinctively playing his irritation out on the instrument. It wasn’t plugged it anywhere, so it didn’t sound it’s best, but it blended it well with the Los Angeles soundscape. A voice caught him off guard, “Fu-uck, yer fingers are fast! How’re you doin’ dat?” He paused, head snapping up. Right there was…someone familiar. Skwisgaar froze, a mixture of shocked to find that he wasn’t alone, terrified that the man had ill intentions, and confusion on what he just said in such a strange accent. He was short, scrawny, but had an absolute lion’s mane of fire-red hair. Skwisgaar squinted, hadn’t he seen him…on stage somewhere? His clothes certainly suggested some sort of Rock ‘N Roll lifestyle. He had a bottle of wine, halfway empty, in his hand. “Uhh, you…spelar er-music? Gutairs, uh, sångare. Du är en musiker.” The man through his head back in laughter, “No English? Dats fine. Let the guitar speak fer ‘ya” Skwisgaar certainly understood guitar, so while the man plopped himself down on the grass and continued to chug down the wine, he played for him.

When Toki had been wandering the halls of Mordhaus, only wearing boxers and his blanket draped around his shoulders, mumbling unintelligibly. He made his way to the nearest balcony, leaning over the rail and shivering at the cold, stale air of the night. It was one of those rare moments that seemed to be in absolute silence. Nathan found him, having received his random, late night text about nightmares, and didn’t hesitate to pull him back inside. It was routine at this point. “You gotta stop doing this, man.” Nathan told him, which Toki only hummed at. He sighed, pressing his lips against the top of Toki’s head, inhaling the sweet, apple-like scent of his shampoo. They slowly crumbled to the marble floor, tangled within each other. Eventually, they’d move to Nathan’s room, but they just wanted to be there, in the moment.

If anyone asked, was never interest, care, intervention. It wasn’t concern when they coaxed each other into comfort at difficult moments; it wasn’t intimacy when they shared the deepest forms of contact; it wasn’t fondness when they spent hours together just because. Dethklok was too metal for that, too brutal. You could never be as ruthless as they were if you showed such…love.

Sorry if this was absolute dogshit, it’s really late, I’m tired, was switching between this and an essay that was already late, and I didn’t proofread at all. Just needed some Dethklok fluff.

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @halfbakedspuds!

Proud-of Tag

Rules: post an excerpt you are proud of.

Of course, now that I have to think about it, suddenly I've never been proud of anything in my life. I think I'll go with Djek’s hallucinations-from-smoke-inhalation scene

It had been days.

Days and days and days, he was sure of it. Days of coughing out black smoke just to breathe it back in again. Days of cooking in a metal shell that weighed nearly as much as he did. Days of choking heat, watering eyes, and this stabbing, gods-damned headache.

Djek dragged the weight behind him, knuckles aching from the grip, but somehow he knew his prize was too important to let go. Was he on a job? Damn fuck-up of a job if he was. Just unlucky, that’s all.

“This is your fault!”

Djek froze. “T-Tyche?”

“You’re only good for one fucking thing and somehow you manage to screw it up every single time! How do you even live with yourself?”

Breathing harder and coughing harder in turn, Djek searched wildly for his friend.

“Tyche, I can’t see you!”

“You know what you are?”

“Stop it!” Djek screamed, though it came out as more of a croak through his smoke-scoured throat. What was happening?

“You’re a parasite. You’re a fucking parasite who lives off nothing but the whims of your betters. And what can you do to repay them? Will you make some shadows do a little dance? Tell them dirty jokes? Beg? That’s all you were ever really good at—begging.” The voice was starting to sound more alien now, possessed of a sneering contempt that permeated every inch of Djek’s heart. The core was still Tyche’s, though. It was always Tyche’s voice he heard.

“You— That’s not true!” Instead of his own voice, the one that came from Djek’s lips was much higher and cracked nearly to pieces. A pathetic child still weeping in an alleyway.

“I pulled you from the brink. I let you play at being a competent person. I saved you! How do you think something like that should be repaid?”

“I don’t—”

“Not by a fucking stab in the back, is what! You should have just died with honor! That’s what a normal person would have done! A grateful person!”

The little street urchin nodded glumly. He was a nobody. Such a nobody that his own parents had tossed him out to cut down on the number of mouths they had to feed. Out of all his siblings, he’d always been the smallest, the clumsiest, the neediest. Really, he’d been the best option.

He was a nobody.

But Tyche or Izjik or Undeta had made him somebody. Even if that somebody was just a puppet, a toy, hey, it was still a damn sight better than nothing, wasn’t it? He was just too weak to stand on his own, so really, it was all for the best if somebody else pulled the strings. To the little urchin, it was common sense.

To Djek though, that was bullshit. The sorcerer spat into the inferno, clearing the grit from his mouth and mind.

“You made me. All of you made me, and I thank you for that. But I’m my own man, with my own choices. And I choose to get the hell out of here.”

That little urchin might’ve seen the sense in living a life given to him like some handout from a kind stranger, but Djek had learned a lot since he’d been that waif trembling in the gutter. That mummery, well-meaning or cruel, wasn’t a life.

His life had started when he’d nearly pissed himself trying to kill for the first time. And turns out, he was more than strong enough to live for himself.

I'll tag @somethingclevermahogony @melpomene-grey @elizaellwrites @katnewman96-blog and anyone else who wants to share something :)

[leclerced]

Okay I have a few ideas so bear with me please.

First some angst because I’m a masochist. When Lando gets overwhelmed because of everything but he thinks that he doesn’t get a say in this? You know Oscar took the lead and of course he’s okay with that but in this particular moment it’s just something that conflicts him. He was with her first and he was arranging everything first but when Oscar came with his amazing planning and rules-setting he starts to doubt himself because “what if I wasn’t good enough? Has she ever felt like something’s not okay but haven’t told me? Was it too much? Did I cross boundaries?” And half of the thoughts make no sense because he didn’t cross anything. She wanted it and after some time she wanted it more than him even. But right now it all feels like too much and the culmination point is when Lewis is fucking her and it’s Lando in the room because Oscar said he’d be a lil late and after like two orgasms he snaps and tells Lewis to go. And immediately the older man switches from mean dom to concerned friend and starts asking if everything is okay and is she okay is Lando okay but it just pisses him off more. So Lewis walks out but at the same time Oscar comes in and is like “wait that’s it? You’re already out?” And he tells him about Lando snapping so Oscar is worried. My man is freaking out an spiralling because Lando is the last person to snap for real not while joking. And he comes in and sees their girl trying to comfort Lando who’s fucking crying and constantly apologising and they have no idea what’s this about.

Please feed my imagination on the rest

oh my god!!!

they’d be so confused, lando just keeps saying he’s sorry and they don’t know why for an hour, until he’s out of tears and oscar grabs his chin and makes him look him in the eye and tell him why he’s apologizing. he’s got his soft dom voice, the one that means business, and lando has no choice but to listen to the commanding voice and tell him what’s wrong. he’d come clean about how he’s feeling like he’s not enough anymore. she’d immediately shut him down and tell him she’d give up everything for him, but he’d tell her he’d never ask her to and oscar realizes that’s the problem. lando doesn’t know his own boundaries, doesn’t know where the line is anymore. he’s so used to oscar controlling everything he feels like he doesn’t even know how, so he snapped at lewis which made him feel worse. he doesn’t say he wants to pause things, wants to have her to himself because he doesn’t know how to tell her that seeing someone else touching her makes him sick. but oscar knows, can see it in his eyes that’s what he’s thinking.

oscar’s not usually good with words, and they’re failing lando right now, but he knows what lando needs and once again he’d be taking control, telling the other drivers it’s called off for now, and not to mention it. if and when they’re ready, they’ll know. until then, back off. lewis is the only one who kind of knows whats going on, and he wants to check on lando but knows it’s not his place so he just watches from afar as oscar and their girl rebuild him. he’d be the first one brought back months later, a little apology from lando for cutting that last night short. clearly, lando’s picked up on oscar’s possessive and more dominant side bc even though the aussie is absent from the room, lewis isn’t allowed to run wild like he used to, lando’s taking control the way oscar does when he’s around and the original dynamic makes a comeback, with lando a little more comfortable and controlling than before.

[onegianthotmess]

Headcanons For Jane

I’ve been wanting to do this for a while so let’s go!!

Here is the post where I introduced Jane and showed what she looked like: Jane.

Also, I know that @queengiuliettafirstlady is a bit curious about Jane! I’d like to clarify that she is my OC as @natimiles informed you and that there will be a happy ending with her and Theo, just give me a little bit, please! But, in the meantime, you can enjoy these random headcanons that are canon because Jane is my OC/baby and I love her!!!

Jane is Comte’s first daughter, so obviously she’s a bit spoiled in the beginning

Not in a bad way, more so Comte just goes a bit nuts and almost buys all of the women’s clothing in Paris when he brings Jane home, but Leonardo stops him because he doesn’t want the mansion to overflow with gowns and take up his napping spots or for Jane to be overwhelmed

And yes, Leonardo also unofficially adopts Jane and gives her daily headpats because I said so

Jane is incredibly grateful to have been given a second life, but it has led her to question things

She was a devout Catholic while human, but she was confused on what to do with her beliefs when she’d been given an impossible second chance

So, after much contemplation, Jane did decide to remain Catholic in terms of beliefs, but not as devoutly as when she was human because her second life as a vampire has given her a new perspective on things

Jane is often compared to Vincent in personality and none of those comparisons are incorrect

Historically, Jane Seymour was actually called a peaceful angel while in court and was known to be one of, if not the most, beloved queen that ruled during King Henry VIII’s reign

So it makes sense her personality would stay the same even after becoming a vampire

In fact, the reason she wanted to continue living was to help children, even though she couldn’t raise her own son

So, yes, she is often compared to Vincent in terms of being an angel, but her and Vincent don’t see how they’re similar to each other and it’s so cute!!!

Jane only knew English while she was alive and had to learn Modern English from Comte, so when she started dating Theo, Arthur tried to learn Dutch swear words so he could tell Jane to say them to Theo as “terms of endearment”

But, before Arthur could do that, Vincent began to teach Jane Dutch without Theo knowing so she could surprise him

Jane is a very good cook and actually surprised Sebastian the first night she was there because she started cooking dinner way before Sebastian and was about halfway done with the meal when Sebastian walked in

Needless to say Sebastian was both bewildered and very interested by this and started scribbling in his notebook that Jane Seymour was an exceptional cook

Jane will also sit down and knit, crochet, or sew with Sebastian when he gets some downtime and she usually mends his suits if a tear is ever on them

Sebastian’s notebook is getting a nice section on Jane Seymour’s hobbies

Jane loves birds and her pet dove Enid was actually a gift given to her by Shakespeare as a thank you for her sewing some costumes for him for a play he was putting on

And Theo doesn’t like that Enid was from Shakespeare, but Jane loves Enid and sees Will as a nice person and good friend, so he stays quiet

Jane likes to watch Vincent paint and she usually tells him when it’s time to eat and when it’s time for him to go to bed

Jane is actually the only person King doesn’t knock over when he sees and is always gentle with Jane, which pisses Theo off a bit but he also thinks it’s cute as fuck-

When Jane feels restless, she will clean and organize things around the mansion

She’s reorganized the library so many times that it’s literally impossible to not find a book within thirty to sixty seconds, if you know what you’re looking for

Jane will occasionally go into town to help teach children with Napoleon and Isaac

It usually takes a minute for Jane to wake up, so Theo usually has to help her get dressed and occasionally has to help her with her hair if she’s that sleepy

Despite being a queen while human, Jane can be very naive and believes a lot of what Arthur and Dazai say if someone doesn’t immediately stop them or tell her otherwise

And yes, she’s fallen for this plenty of times

She’s the baby girl of the mansion, leave her alone-

Jane has days where she can faint very easily and she has done this while out helping Theo with his work

The first time this happened, Theo rushed her to the hospital and was panicking internally the whole time

And when Jane woke up with instructions from the doctor to go home and rest and drink a lot of water, Theo went with her and didn’t leave her side the rest of the day

When Leonardo and Arthur were asked to see if anything was wrong with Jane after multiple fainting spell days happening, Leonardo and Arthur eventually came to the conclusion that, because Jane’s death and final days had such a massive toll on her body, it affected her even after becoming a vampire

Leonardo and Arthur advised her to try and watch for signs of feeling weak or faint within herself to see if she needed to stay home so that her bedroom wasn’t too far to carry her to if she fainted and another resident found her

Luckily, these fainting spell days are usually few and far between and rarely even happen once a month most of the time

When Jane was dying of postpartum complications, she’d gotten an infection in her eyes from a remedy one of the doctors had given her and it damaged her eyes to the point of her needing glasses

For the first two to three months of Jane’s new life as a vampire, she needed to be guided around the mansion because her eyesight was awful and she needed to wait for Comte to take her to an optometrist to settle a prescription for her and get her glasses made before she could walk around the mansion freely

And during those first two to three months, Jane had broken a few things around the mansion while left alone and wandering the halls and after she got her glasses, she apologized profusely for the damages she’d caused

Occasionally, Jane and Arthur will mix up their glasses and Arthur has to go and find Jane to give her her glasses back as quickly as possible before she breaks something and feels guilty about it

All of the mansion pets have at least a slight fondness for Jane, but the birds, Brush, King, Vic, and Chérie all really like her in particular

Vic actually almost prefers Jane to Arthur and it makes Arthur really jealous because Vic is meant to be his dog and love him

But Arthur feels better after Jane reassures him that Vic still loves him before handing him his precious pup to go and play with King for a bit, who was getting jealous of the attention Vic was getting

Arthur and Jane are very good friends, with Jane almost acting motherly in a way towards Arthur and Arthur just being the flirt he is while also being nice and a gentleman to Jane because she’s a babie who must be protected

Jane actually has a great knowledge on the language of flowers and their properties, from medicinal uses to poisons, she knows almost everything about flowers, even some things Leonardo doesn’t know

Jane has always wanted to go to the beach, but she never really could in her life as a human due to being a lady-in-waiting, then a queen who was pressured to produce a male heir who eventually died after giving birth

Also, she can’t swim-

Jane makes Sebastian take breaks from housework and takes care of it herself

She will cook and clean and do the laundry and have it all done all before Sebastian arrives, thus forcing him to take a day off

Jane enjoys taking walks and usually has someone accompany her, which is usually Arthur and Theo

Arthur occasionally goes out to the bar alone with Jane and challenges her to a drinking contest, which usually ends in Theo being called down to carry his drunk wife back to the mansion and makes sure a tipsy Arthur is alright to be left by himself long enough for Leonardo to come down and eventually carry him back home

Jane gets unusually hungry while drunk and she’ll usually ask Theo if they can go get pancakes while he carries her back home

Jane is allowed to drink with anyone except Jean because of how they both get easily wasted and so they need someone else to watch over them so they don’t get themselves killed or do something worse while drunk

Jane and Vincent often go to Shakespeare’s villa together so that they can have tea with him and talk

They occasionally bring Brush and Enid along with them and both of their pets love both Shakespeare and Puck

Puck is a bit iffy on Vincent, but he LOVES Jane and doesn’t focus on giving Vincent half of an evil eye because he’s too busy getting pets from Jane when they visit

Jane has made winter scarves for everyone in the mansion, Shakespeare, and even the vampires in the castle

Jane met Vlad on the street as he was packing up his little flower cart one evening because she was waiting for Theo and Arthur, and Vlad took a liking to Jane and gave her a few free flowers from the selection he had left

Vlad thinks Jane reminds him of an innocent little girl and finds her cute, so he usually gives her a few free flowers whenever he sees her

And it makes Theo jealous whenever Jane tells him about “the very nice man with strawberry eyes” who occasionally gives her a few free flowers because….it’s Theo and Theo doesn’t like to share his precious and innocent little hondje

And Jane makes pancakes for Theo whenever he’s jealous to help him calm down and to reassure him that no one else will ever catch her eye except for him

Pancakes and a night of cuddling usually does the trick to make Theo feel better and Jane is always happy to oblige

Jane does try to limit Theo’s sugar intake, like giving him the option of letting her pour his syrup on his pancakes or having no syrup at all

It usually works, but sometimes Theo is sneaky and swipes the syrup bottle to put more on his pancakes when Jane isn’t looking

Jane usually instates herself as Sebastian’s replacement and caretaker whenever he gets sick, despite his objections

Even though Jane usually tries to take care of any one of the residents when they get sick because she doesn’t like to see them unwell

Jane loves going to the park and will take Enid with her so she can fly around

Jane actually met Charles at one of her visits to the park and asked if she could visit him at his home so she could get to know him better and meet his friends that he lives with

And that’s what led Jane to visit the castle and meet Faust for the first time and figure out who Vlad is

And Theo does not like Faust

Why?

Because Faust finds Jane interesting, very interesting and just gives Theo a bad vibe

Meanwhile Jane likes him because he doesn’t seem that bad and she finds him funny

Also everyone added Vlad to the “Don’t Let These People Drink Alone No Matter The Cost” list with Jane and Jean due to his zero tolerance for alcohol

Seriously, don’t let them drink alone together without at least one other person or someone is going to die or something weird is gonna happen

They all woke up hungover in Vlad’s flower garden once and flowers were on fire, there was a bear sleeping with them, Marshmallow was trying to get past Cherie to gnaw on Jean’s leg, Enid was asleep on Jane’s head, Vlad was hanging upside down in a tree, a pot of boiling water was in a rose bush, Jean’s eyepatch was missing, and Jane was using Vlad’s black cloak as a blanket

Yeah, Charles had to clean that up and Faust had to take care of Vald, Jean, and Jane while they were all hungover before Jean and Jane could go home the next day

Comte was freaking out about where his favorite most lightweight children went for the three days they were gone

Vincent had to calm down Theo and assure him Jane was fine, but it didn’t really fully work until Jane was home

Jane has a mouse/kitten sneeze

The first time she sneezed at breakfast, everyone looked at her because they never thought she could get any softer or cuter, but they were very wrong

Children love her a lot, she’s like a magnet for kids

When she goes with Theo to take King to the park, children usually come up to her to tell her she’s pretty or to invite her for a game of hide and seek

And babies somehow calm instantly when she holds them

Jane is just really good with kids

Jane was worried about Vincent not having a bed and became even more worried when he said it was fine because he had his couch to sleep on

And Jane couldn’t let that happen, so she talked with Comte and made sure Vincent got a bed put in his room

She even set up some tarps to act as curtains around the bed so that the pillows, blankets, and sheets would be safe from any possible stray bits of paint that would possibly be splattered around in cast of an accident

Jane usually makes Vincent take breaks from painting because she worries about him and they usually make flower crowns together or they go and visit Shakespeare

They make flower crowns for Shakespeare and Puck, too along with their own respective pets

Jane has made flower crowns for Theo and King as well, which makes Theo embarrassed and shy and King very happy because he looks even cuter and eventually gets a snack when the flower crown falls off his head

For Christmas one year, Jane made everyone a special embroidered decorative pillow, even Shakespeare and the castle boys

Theo’s had a golden retriever on it, Arthur’s had a magnifying glass on it, Leonardo’s had tools on it, Jean’s had a tiger on it, Vincent’s had a sunflower on it, Napoleon’s had a sword/rapier on it, Isaac’s had a stack of books with an apple on it, Dazai’s had a book and pen on it, Mozart’s had a violin on it, Sebastian’s had a lamb on it, Comte’s had an hourglass on it, Will’s had symbols for his three most popular plays on it, Faust’s had a monkey on it, Charles’s had resurrection lilies on it, and Vlad’s had strawberries on it

Jane spent about a year and a half planning, researching, and gathering supplies for those pillows before she actually spent another year making the pillows before putting them in nice boxes with wrapping and bows and tags and a hand written card in each to everyone for how grateful she was to have them in her life and that they could do what they wished with their gift

Everyone was very touched by Jane’s dedication to just one gift and they all keep their handmade pillows out on display because they deserve to be seen

Yeah, needless to say that Jane is the queen of going above and beyond for handmade gifts, and just gifts in general

Any holiday involving the giving of gifts, Jane is on top of those gifts, which she planned months in advance for

She’s also the queen of arts and crafts, Sebastian being an extremely close second to her

Jane has made new collars and leashes for both King and Vic because she saw that the ones they had were getting pretty old and worn out

She even made a little harness and leash for Comte’s precious ferret, Thyme

When Jane told Theo she loved him in semi broken Dutch, Theo eased up as best he could on his swearing so that he had less of a chance of his sweet hondje learning any sort of bad language, especially from him

Arthur received many death threats just in case he decided to corrupt Jane’s pure and innocent, and definitely a bit naive, mind

Because Arthur is…well, Arthur

One time Jane accidentally broke her finger on a door and started crying, Theo nearly ripped the door she broke her finger on off its hinges and used it as firewood

He would have, too, if Vincent and Comte weren’t holding him back

Overall, Jane is a sweet babie who could make even the most stone faced serial killer melt with a single kitten sneeze and I love her

(A/N: I got the divider from @firefly-graphics, if you wanted to know or if they wanted to receive credit in this post because I used one of their divider graphics! Either way, go look at some of their stuff because the graphics are really nice!!)

[batmanego]

how do you think jason's siblings feel about him?

this is a question i’m less equipped to answer as i’m less of a scholar of them than i am of him so take this mostly as idle musings as opposed to a more scholarly discussion… AND feel free to correct me on things.

Generally i think all of them except dick have some form of non-relationship with him. he isn’t really their brother in any sense other than bruce is their shared parent, and he doesn’t seem interested in interacting with them or participating in the trappings of familial relationships, or Not trying to beat the shit out of them when they get too close to him.

his strongest relationship (within his family) and the exception to this rule is with dick, who. Oh it hurts so badly oh it hurts dick so badly to watch jason do this to himself. he rightfully points out in the comics that jason’s quest and methods seem little more than an ill-advised suicide attempt, which i think isn’t far off. being around jason is genuinely probably painful for dick (as it would be for anyone), but jason is also uniquely(?) equipped to piss him the fuck off. dick is NOT cool with the Attempted child murder several times over thing and WILL yell at jason about it and WILL fight him over it. but i think generally in most circumstances that aren’t related to “you paralyzed my brotherson” dick has this horrible thing where he can’t be Too mean to jason or jasons going to… ?????Blow up again????. dick is the only one of jasons siblings that makes any real effort to BE jasons sibling, and he’s also the only one that jason allows this to happen with and reciprocates to some degree.

coming from conversations with my friend izzy who is a cass and damian fan: caaaaass would not/does not like jason. She understands where he’s coming from on some level but fundamentally disagrees with his methods. she can also Very clearly see that he is still little more than a terrified 15 year old waiting for batman to save him at his core, which… ??? i would feel somewhat uncomfortable having that level of knowledge about a guy that visibly dislikes me.But that’s just me. im unsure of cass’ feelings further than Dislike and a vague sense of pity.

damian. oh my god. Again it’s like unraveling the gordian knot. daaaamian… on multiple occasions beats people/the joker up in… retribution? in reference to? jason’s death. he is shown to be effected by it enough for him to take action and start swinging. on the other hand, he also??? at multiple times??? beats the shit out of jason while making fun of him for dying? and leaves a crowbar on his pillow? So basically solve his puzzle. damian and jason could be a very interesting relationship (especially if you’re like me and contemplate the timeline of things and have come to the conclusion that jason post-resurrection but pre-lazarus pit lived with talia at the same time damian would have been living there) but unfortunately the two of them kind of just largely regard each other as nuisances not worth a lot of time and effort. i don’t think damian holds the paralysis thing against jason necessarily — i don’t think he’s HAPPY about it, but i think on some level he probably understands that it wasn’t a personal choice and was more business.

tim needs jason lost at sea, but often has other larger problems going on than a guy in a stupid helmet running around.

[compacflt]

have you ever considered writing more about icemav's respective childhoods? i'm always thinking about val kilmer saying in his memoir and documentary that he had obsessive dreams about ice's father who made him feel he had to prove himself as The Absolute Ideal Man and that the interactions he dreamt about between ice and his dad surely "imbued ice with greater fury" and his obsession with perfection made him arrogant.

yeah i go into ice’s childhood a little in my slider one shot since they’re right out of high school when they meet. But val and I took it in two completely different directions. Val’s ice has daddy issues and a poor relationship with his father (extrapolating from excerpt above); my ice has lack-of-daddy-issues and NO relationship with his father. No dad = no man to model himself on = overcompensating. When I said, in mavericks POV (debriefing), that ice “clearly doesn’t know how to talk to other men,” I meant that with my whole chest.

i appreciate Val’s insight, and I’m not sure when his memoir was published, but i think TG86 Ice is complicated DEEPLY by his plot-necessary accession to COMPACFLT in TGM22. At least for me, his end rank of O-10 casts him in a totally different light. It implies that what he wants is not necessarily to be “The Ideal Man,” he wants to be The Ideal OFFICER. And there’s a lot of data to back up that claim in Top Gun 86, too: he’s so gentle with Maverick, even when he’s trying to intimidate him (take the intonation of “I heard that about you. You like to work alone,” for example—is that how you’d say that if you were trying to piss someone off?); and there’s also the fact that two of the five times Ice talks directly to Maverick are explicitly about his safety practices and how they affect the safety of the TEAM (“Who was covering Cougar while you were showboating with this MiG?” / “I don’t like you because you’re dangerous.”). I said in a post last week that I don’t think Ice is a team player—but a good OFFICER doesn’t have to be a team player to make sure that the rules are followed and everyone stays safe. I think if Ice were trying to be The Ideal Man, he’d look a lot more like super-cool bad-ass rule-breaker MAVERICK (the buff daredevil male protagonist of a pro-military propaganda movie), who is canonically overcompensating for HIS relationship with his father/his incredibly unhealthy toxic masculinity.

So, yeah. that’s just how i see it. Again, idk when Val’s memoir was published—the writers of TG and TGM treat Ice as a character very differently, and both characterizations necessarily reflect on the other. I did not get the sense that TGM Ice was “imbued with fury,” for instance. So I think Ice trying to be/feeling pressured to be the best OFFICER makes more sense in light of TGM than Ice trying to be/feeling pressured to be the best MAN.

I feel very shrug about mav’s childhood. Kinda seems like he got over that in TG86. He got to save his team the way his dad did, AND lived to tell the tale. Yay. His development’s pretty much done for the franchise.