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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

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5.7k words, Joel x f!reader x Tommy | sequel here! A/N: ONE SHOT. I had to get this out of my system after that one Uncle Tommy line I wrote in september lol. Shoutouts to: @bonezone44 for being an Uncle Tommy stan, @/walkintotheriveranddisappear for running the center for dvp excellence, and everyone who's been supportive. 🖤 Multiple fic recs at the bottom! WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap, darkish miller bros, dubcon (coaxing/pressure, you aren't sure what Joel allows), use of "daddy," sharing, unsafe p in v (individually and together), oral, jacking off, creampies, cucking, MFM, DP (double vag), light degradation, praise, pet names, foot massage. AU where you don't overthink this fic. You’re happy with Joel, but it’s not a healthy relationship with clear communication and boundaries. Joel carries reader. TW: incidental incest via MFM/DVP - If this isn't for you, please quietly move along.

📢 Orgs to consider donating to for t-giving: alight (refugee support), cultural survival (indigenous rights advocacy)

🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂

Joel squats down with one hand on the back of your chair. He admires your face then cups your cheek. “Gotta do somethin’, baby. Won’t be back tonight.” The casual announcement makes your heart race. He kisses you on the forehead, then stands up.

“What do you mean you won’t be back tonight?”

“It’s okay, baby. Uncle Tommy’s gonna stay with ya.”

Your face gets hot. Tommy tilts his head down and smiles at you from across the breakfast table. He raises his glass of juice in acknowledgement, but you don’t look at him. You look squarely at Joel, caught off guard by his plans.

“Daddy,” you whine. “Just lemme come with you.”

“Ain’t that kinda trip, darlin’.”

“Why can’t he do it?”

Tommy laughs silently and his voice goes up an octave. “What’sa matter, sweetheart? Don’t wanna hang out?” He tilts his head and smiles, then his normal voice returns. “That’s okay.” There's a glimmer in his eye.

Joel grabs his jacket and kisses you goodbye, then says, “Don’t have too much fun without me,” and winks at Tommy. Then Joel's gone, just like that. Your tummy feels nervous as his truck starts, then drives away.

It's Thanksgiving week. You have a lot to be thankful for. Joel loves you and takes good care of you. You have solar power and a nice farm with a secure perimeter. Tommy is visiting for the holiday. You met Tommy in passing long ago, but his girl at the time was with him, and that was before you were Joel’s. You were just the girl down the street. This week is the first time you've really spent time together.

Joel would kill any other man for touching you, but apparently he's different about Tommy. You're still figuring out how that works. Joel doesn't seem to mind what Tommy sees–or feels–when the three of you are together. But what about when you're alone?

Does Joel know Tommy walked by the bedroom window and saw you undressing? Does he know Tommy came to apologize for that when you were fresh out of the shower, and saw you in a towel? Or that he looked you up and down, asked if Joel was treating you right, then gave a low whistle and adjusted himself before he left? Or that you touched yourself almost as soon as he closed the door?

*******

Last night, Joel put you in Tommy's lap in the armchair to give you a foot massage, and you tried not to react when Tommy got hard. “It's ok,” Tommy whispered with his hands on your hips. He pulled you back against his hard bulge with a soft grunt and it gave you a shock of desire.

“It's ok, darlin,” Joel echoed, kneeling at your feet. Joel placed your heel on his own hardening package as he worked on the ball of your foot.

Tommy's hand cupped your breast and you tensed.

Joel glanced up. “Relax, baby. It's just Uncle Tommy.”

“It's ok,” Tommy whispered again into your hair as his other hand crept up your thigh, higher and higher, until his thumb grazed your panties. Joel continued massaging you, unbothered, then switched to the other foot.

Tommy's thick fingers glided over your panties and you twitched as he felt the dampness. He lifted his hips with a soft grunt, then cleared his throat. “gonna take care of your girl tonight, Joel? She's drippin’ like a faucet.” Your cheeks burned, and Tommy ran his hand down your thigh.

Joel smiled with half his mouth as he glanced up. “makin’ a mess already?” Joel shook his head. “Close your legs, darlin'.”

Your stomach dropped and you stammered, “sorry, uh . . .”

But as soon as you closed your legs, Tommy lifted your dress up, making your whole body tingle with goosebumps. Joel’s face gave away nothing as he looked past you at Tommy. For a moment, you thought Tommy had gone too far. Then Joel hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and Tommy held you back against his chest as Joel slid them off. Joel spread your knees, and Tommy's, and knelt between them, closer.

With his armpits resting over your thighs, Joel looked at your cunt hungrily and spread you open with his thumbs. You tilted your hips for him, feeling yourself gush. “Good girl,” he murmured, then planted his right forearm on your lower belly. With his right fingers pointing down, he ran them through your dripping folds, then drew in a deep breath through his nose before bringing his mouth between your legs.

Joel lapped at your weeping hole and sucked your clit. He fingered you and made out with your cunt like it was just another night, like he was getting ready to fuck you. Meanwhile, Tommy lightly grinded into your ass, breathing warm and wet into your hair and holding you gently in his strong arms as Joel devoured your pussy. Tommy rocked you gently on his lap, rocking you into Joel’s mouth. Joel ate you out at the same rhythm. When you came, Tommy’s arousal pressed harder against you and he grabbed your breast. He cooed, “good girl.”

Joel didn't seem to mind, and it felt really good, but you got self conscious after you finished. Tommy caressed your arm as Joel wiped his mouth off. “I'm sleepy, daddy,” you looked at him with big eyes.

Joel looked at you fondly, squeezed your thigh, and said, “I know, darlin’. Give Uncle Tommy a kiss goodnight.” You turned around and kissed him on the cheek, then mumbled “goodnight” without meeting his eyes.

—

Joel scooped you up in his arms. You went to bed with Joel and only Joel. As soon as he laid you down, you asked, “you're not mad about Tommy touching me?”

“Felt good, didn't it?”

You gave a small nod.

“Nice havin’ four hands.” Joel raised his eyebrows and left it at that.

You eyed the protrusion in his jeans. “I'm comin’, baby,” he reassured you as he unzipped them. He pulled his jeans and boxers down together and his massive erection sprang free. He prowled across the bed, settled between your legs, and you raised your knees, tilting your hips for him. “Good girl,” he whispered as he got himself into place.

“God damn, even wetter now,” he muttered as he gathered your slick on his fingers and wiped it on his stiff cock. His tip prodded your dripping hole, then he pushed inside with a sigh, making you moan as he split you open. Joel bottomed out, and the sound that came out of his chest was somewhere between a grunt and a groan, “Uungghh.” You whimpered in pleasure. Then, through the thin wall, you heard Tommy cum with a deep moan. Joel chuckled, then bowed his head and kissed you, pausing all the way inside.

Joel kissed you softly as he buried his length in you, and your lips broke away only to whimper, “Daddy.”

“Yeah, baby doll,” he whispered into the pillow, right by your ear. “Daddy’s here.” You wrapped your legs around him as he fucked you deep and slow. You imagined Tommy lying behind you, grinding against you, whispering “good girl,” copping a feel as Joel fucked you. You moaned and whimpered under Joel as he brought you to the brink again. Then, as your wet little pussy fluttered around his cock, he groaned and bottomed out to fill you with his seed.

**********

Now it’s morning, Joel's gone, and you're left alone with his brother. His brother with the sweet smile, soft voice, and big dick that felt so hard against you. Don't have too much fun without me, Joel said. . . With a wink. Unsure what to do with that, you avoid Tommy for most of the day, and he doesn't make you hang out with him. He works in the yard and you catch a few glimpses. He gets hot and takes off his flannel, exposing his wifebeater and oversized belt buckle. As he dabs his forehead with his shirt, his bicep swells and the veins on his hand bulge.

Tommy comes in and takes a shower in the other bathroom. There’s a knock on your bedroom door, then it opens. You’re not sure why you didn’t lock it. Tommy’s wearing jeans, boxers, and nothing else. Your eyes linger on his strong chest. He leans with his hand against the door frame. “Think Joel would let me borrow a shirt? Wasn’t plannin’ to work up a sweat,” he chuckles.

Tommy crosses his muscular arms over his thick, bare chest as you get a white t-shirt out of Joel's dresser and toss it to him. Tommy’s jeans ride down as he lifts his arms and puts the shirt on in front of you. He catches you looking as his head comes through the hole, then he rakes his fingers through his curls. A subtle smile forms, his eyes twinkle, and he gives you a little nod before he walks away.

—

Later, you're taking a bath. You sigh as you sink into the water. Then there's a click as the doorknob lock is effortlessly picked. The door opens and Tommy smiles at you with his eyes, biting his bottom lip. He closes the door behind him. The tub squeaks as you quickly pull up your knees to cover your breasts.

“Musta been touchin’ yourself, huh?” he chuckles as he approaches the tub. “Don't stop on my account.” He winks and his eyes fall on your legs. You scooch them closer together in case he can see through the bathwater.

Your chest feels warm. You look down and away.

Tommy takes a seat on the tiled floor in front of the garden tub. “C’mon sweetheart, don't be shy.” his arm moves out of view, unbuttoning his jeans. Your nipples harden. He tilts his head to peek from the side and smiles.

“What do you want?” you ask softly and a low squeak echoes as you shift in the tub.

“Wanna see ya do it. Go on, finish what ya started.”

“I wasn't.”

“There's no shame in it, sweetheart”

You swallow and look down.

He studies your face and repeats, “Nothin' to be ‘shamed of. You know that. Right?”

“Tell your brother that,” you whisper and instantly regret it. You pinch your eyes shut and add, “No, don't. . .Please.”

“Oh shit,” Tommy whispers. “Ya can’t, can ya?”

You barely shake your head, eyes still closed.

Tommy chuckles. “Controlling fucker, ain't he?”

You look at Tommy and your eyes widen with some defiant glimmer of hope. “God damn,” he whispers. “keepin’ his girl from touchin’ herself.” He looks down and shakes his head in disapproval.

He smiles apologetically. “Guess Daddy knows best, huh?” He tugs his jeans off, and you watch unabashed. As his pants come off, his boxers ride down, exposing his short, dark pubic hair. You can’t help but admire the way his thigh muscles swell out from his boxers.

He palms himself over the fabric and raises his eyebrows. “Wanna see it, don’t ya?” He smiles knowingly at you.

You don’t answer. He shows you anyway, pulling the waistband down under his balls. He's neatly trimmed and his balls are big. He's engorged but not fully hard.

“Do me a favor and spit in my hand, sweetheart.” He holds it out in front of you. You look back and forth between his eyes, then his freckles. He's a handsome man. His hand stays there, waiting patiently. You gather saliva in your mouth, tilt your head forward, and let it drop into his palm.

“Good girl,” he murmurs.

He wraps his hand around his cock and You look into the bath water as his eyes devour your body. In the corner of your eye, you can see him at full mast. He breathes heavier, then moves positions. He sits with his right side against the tub, facing you. He strokes himself with his left hand and dips his right hand into the water. You flinch away then try to relax. The backs of Tommy’s fingers graze your calf under the water. You squeeze your thighs together.

“Don't get shy on me now, cupcake.” He reaches behind your calf and touches the back of your leg, near your ass. Your legs involuntarily part. He wouldn't do anything Joel wouldn't like. Would he? Somehow the tension of the situation is only making you want it more. His fingers creep between your legs and caress your inner thigh crease. He sucks in a chest full of air, then gets on his knees. He brings his left hand to your mouth again for lube.

“Good girl.” The squelch of his hand around his cock echoes with the new moisture. He searches your face as half his mouth breaks into a smile. He holds your inner thigh as he jacks off. Then he straightens your leg so he can see your body better. “God damn,” he murmurs, and the sound of his voice is sharpened by the tile. He rubs your thigh, spits into his other hand, keeps tugging at his cock, then when he's close, he gets up and sits on the edge of the tub. It’s impossible not to look at his stiff, angry cock, glistening with your combined saliva. You still have one knee bent above the water–the knee furthest from him.

He pumps himself and stands up to face you. “You wanna know how I taste?” He asks.

You hesitantly shake your head no, unsure if it would be crossing a line. “Okay, sweetheart. Don't have to.” He aims his cock at the water over your lap, then closes his eyes and groans. “Ohh, God. ohhhh,” it lands sharply in your ears as he erupts. Silky ropes of cum dance in the water, some of it wrapping around your thigh. When he's finished, he pulls his boxers back up, then his jeans, but doesn't zip them up. He sits on the edge of the tub again, leans over it, and kisses you on the forehead. Then he whispers in your ear, “I'll make dinner.”

—-

You eat together at the kitchen table. There's a cornucopia centerpiece. The scant conversation is about winter and gardening, until he reaches under the table and squeezes your thigh. You want him so bad, you blurt out, “what’s happening?”

He replies, “Huh?” with his hand still on your thigh.

You search Tommy’s face. “You said it yourself, he’s controlling.” You shift in your chair and he takes his hand back. You continue, “Why doesn’t he care if you. . .”

“Ah,” Tommy smiles down at his plate. “Well. . .” He turns his chair to face you instead of the table. He sits back and manspreads, and his hands rest on his thighs. “I’m just another body to love ya with, sugar.” His eyes drift to the cornucopia. “And I sure am thankful for it.”

His eyes return to you, and your heart flutters.

“He can love on ya when he ain’t here, even.” One of his hands slides up his own thigh to rest closer to his groin. He takes in a deep breath through his nose and nods, admiring you as he slowly exhales. His eyes are darker.

A desperate want is stirring in your belly. It seems too good to be true. You abruptly announce, “I’m tired. I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Okay, cupcake. C’mere,” Tommy opens his arms.

You stand between his legs, bend forward, put your arms around his neck and kiss him on the cheek. As you pull your head back, his hands on your hips pull you into sitting on his thigh. He brings a hand to your cheek, and it melts you. “I wouldn’t do nothin’ he wouldn’t want,” he reassures you.

You nod.

“End up on the wrong side of the dirt,” he chuckles. When you don’t laugh, he clarifies, “Me, not you. He’d never hurt ya, cupcake.”

Then he cradles your head with both hands, studying your eyes and lips. He wets his lips, and your lips part, watching him. Half his mouth twitches. You’re warm all over. He leans in and looks at your mouth again, getting closer. When you can practically feel the heat of his lips on yours, you close the gap and feel a rush of need when your mouths come together. His lips are soft, and the kiss is tender. You pull away after two seconds.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

—---

You lie in bed missing Joel, wishing he would come home. You feel more at ease with the two of them. Your mind drifts to Tommy. At this rate, you wish he would stay. You’re almost asleep when the bedroom door creaks open.

“Daddy?” When you turn over, the moonlit silhouette is Tommy's. He's only wearing boxers and there's already a tent in them. He lifts the covers, and the mattress dips under his weight.

You ask, “What are you doing?”

“'S’okay, cupcake, I told ya. Promise he won’t be mad.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“Your daddy and I been sharin’ our toys for fifty years.”

Your stomach turns, but Tommy adds, “You're the most special of all, ya know.” He scoots closer. “Never seen him in love before.”

You feel your body warming and opening up for him.

“He wants ya to get what ya need, baby,” Tommy whispers.

Your heart pounds.

“Even told me your secret word,” Tommy adds.

“He did?”

“If ya really want me to stop, all ya gotta say is Appleseed.” How would he know that unless Joel told him?

You turn away from Tommy and he doesn't waste any time before spooning you. His strong arm rests over you and his hand cups a breast. He kisses your neck, soft and wet. The thick, warm rod in his boxers grazes your lower back as he tongues your delicate skin. He kisses your neck with increasing passion, and he kneads your breast. Then his arousal fully presses against you through his boxers and your nightgown.

He curves his body around you and pulls you back into him. He sighs and his engorged cock twitches against your crack, giving you a surge of desire. He slides his hand into your nightgown from the top to palm your naked breast and sighs as he grinds against you.

“God damn, sweetheart,” he whispers as your nipple hardens against his palm. He takes his hand out of your nightgown and cups your breast on top of it again, then his hand slowly slides down your sleepwear, feeling every inch of your torso before arriving at your bare thigh. He nudges his fingers under the hem of your nightgown and slides his hand up your thigh. When his hand reaches your pussy, your top leg lifts ever so slightly, spreading your thighs to make room for him. You're not wearing underwear.

“Good girl,” he whispers. You’re aching to have him inside you. “Drippin’ for me ain't ya, baby?”

He circles your clit, and you moan softly. There's a wet spot on his boxers pressing into you. “Fuck” he mutters and backs up his hips. “Damnit, I’m drippin’, too,” he chuckles. “Takin’ these off.”

After taking his boxers off, Tommy hovers over you and you’re still on your side. Tommy's hand comes back to your breast, and you turn your face toward his. Your lips meet, and after two seconds, you don’t pull away. His lips push yours open and you accept his tongue. You breathe through your nose as he licks into your mouth.

Tommy pulls back and reads your face, then gives you another soft kiss before settling in behind you, against you, curled around you again. His naked cock is smooth and warm against your ass. He grinds against you for a minute as he massages your breast and moans into your hair. Then his hand drifts down between your legs and he groans at how wet you are.

“I gotta be in ya, sugar.” Tommy backs up and wedges his rigid cock between your thighs, and it glides smoothly through your mess of arousal. His tip reaches your clit. You’re throbbing needily. Your hips tilt on their own, offering him your hole.

“Fuck,” Tommy says as his tip finds your entrance. “Fuck. That’s right, baby.” he pushes his tip into you. You're dying for it, but you're still a little tense and it's making you even tighter.

“God damn, you feel good. Can't imagine when he first–.” He pushes into you, trying to let your body relax and accommodate his girth. “Oh shit, mmm–that musta been–Fuck.” He pushes a little further. “Relax for me, baby.” He withdraws some then thrusts further into you. “Relax, sugar,” he whispers. “Just breathe.” You take a deep breath and relax. The last of him slides in and he bottoms out. “Ohh, good girl. There we go.” He palms your breast and you melt into him. “We’re right here, baby.”

He’s got you speared on his cock, spread apart by his girth. “God damn. What a good girl.”

With his cock fully sheathed, his thick fingers rub circles on your nipple. You moan, twitching around the new cock buried in the hot center of your body. “Mmm,” he growls into your hair, still not moving. You need friction. He breathes deeply. “breathe with me, baby.” You breathe with him and feel yourself relax more.

“Please,” you whine, beginning to move your hips.

His voice is husky. “God damn. Look at ya, sugar. Fuckin’ yourself on Uncle Tommy’s cock?”

“Please,” you whimper again.

“What's your daddy gonna think?”

Your walls twitch and your heart skips a beat. “You said–”

“Yeah. . .He'll be fine, sweetheart..” Tommy begins to move his hips. “He’d be proud’a ya, takin’ this cock like such a good girl.”

He begins to fuck you at a steady rhythm, breathing heavily and cursing softly. You begin to relax with his hand mapping the front of your body, and his stiff cock thrusting into you. He palms your tit again and your head tilts back against him. He kisses your neck, and your body opens for him even more. Your cunt swallows him up with every thrust.

“Ohh, Joel's a lucky man,” he pants with his dick easily sliding into you, making you whole. “Shit, I'm lucky, too–uggh.” You push back on him as he fills you with his stiff cock.

He asks, “Little harder?”

“Mm,” you nod.

He slams into you and you moan.

“Yeah, that's our girl.”

Soon, you’re lost in the pleasure of Tommy’s thick cock pounding you.

The front door unlocks and you freeze. You’re both facing away from the bedroom door. “‘S’okay,” Tommy reminds you. He slows his hips, then bottoms out and pauses. “C’mere,” he wraps his arms around you and with his cock still inside, he rolls over on his back, then sets you down on your other side, arms still wrapped around you, his cock only sliding out half way in the process.

As soon as you’re settled, he bottoms out again with a soft moan. You and Tommy are both facing the bedroom door now. The covers are down around your waist. The handle moves, then the door opens. The silhouette is Joel with his sleeves rolled up.

—---

As Joel approaches the bed, the moonlight hits him and his face is dark.

“She’s so good, Joel,” Tommy pants, with you still full of his cock.

Joel comes to the bed and crouches down. “God damn.” Joel gently takes your jaw in his hand and tilts his head. He studies your face, then his eyes land on yours affectionately. “Couldn't go one day, could ya?” He smiles with his eyes and relief washes over you.

“M’sorry daddy,” you sigh. “Are you mad?”

“No, baby.” Tommy is fucking you slowly. “I ain't mad.” Joel slowly stands up and palms himself over his jeans as he watches your body move to the slow rhythm of Tommy’s thrusts.

“Really?”

“Baby, I keep ya stuffed so full’a cock. . . can't blame ya for needin’ it.”

“Yeah,” you whimper.

“That's what Uncle Tommy's here for,” Tommy whispers.

“Now I get to see ya,” Joel says “All of ya,” Joel gently pulls the covers all the way off. Then Joel tugs up at the hem of your nightgown and kneels down to take it off you.

You try to move forward, reaching for Joel, but Joel puts his hand on your bare chest and Tommy pulls you back, bottoming out again with a moan.

“Want yours,” you whimper.

“Shhh. You're gonna get it.”

You watch Joel take off all his clothes, and as he does it, he watches you moving at a slow rhythm. When Joel’s naked, he spits in his hand. He stands by the bed watching you get fucked by his brother, taking in the view as he squeezes his cock.

“Daddy, please,” you whine.

Joel sits down on the bed. Tommy scooches back to make more room and brings you back with him, still impaled on his cock. Joel lies down and faces you. He gets right up against you, and the first thing he does is kiss you. His hard cock lays against your clit and mound, throbbing for you. You moan into his mouth as Tommy’s cock drags slowly inside you from behind.

Joel’s arm wedges between your back and Tommy’s chest, grabbing hold of you. Joel nudges you upward. Tommy takes the hint and pulls out. You wrap your leg over Joel’s hip. His eyes scan your face, marveling at your feral want. Joel’s hand, still on your back, slides down your ass and hooks under it, between your legs, feeling your sopping wet cunt from the back. “God damn, baby. This all you or did Uncle Tommy cum already?”

“Not yet,” Tommy answers.

Joel’s tip slides through your folds, then he pulls back and notches himself at your entrance. He moves his hand to your hip, and pushes into you with a sigh. You're so wet and aroused, he sinks all the way into you. “Fuck,” Joel breathes. “oh, yeah—ugghh–swallowed me right up, baby.” He marvels at how relaxed you are. With Joel’s arm out of the way, Tommy’s tummy returns flush against your back, with his hard, wet cock pressing against your ass cheek. He grabs your tit.

Joel buries his cock in you. “Oh baby, you love this, don’t ya?”

You nod. “Love your cock, daddy.”

“You’re takin’ it so good, baby. Think you’re wet enough for—ohh, darlin’.” He grinds against you, deep inside you. “You wanna ride this cock, baby?”

You nod. Joel slides out of you and you whimper at the loss as he rolls onto his back. Joel lies face up and holds his cock for you. He whispers, “C’mere baby,” but you're already on your way.

You straddle him and sink right down on him with a whimpered, “daddy,” then bend forward, putting your tits against Joel’s chest. Tommy’s slowly stroking himself and watching.

“C’mere,” Joel whispers and reaches for your head. He pulls your face into his for a passionate kiss as you grind into him with his cock buried in you. It only takes a few seconds of grinding into Joel for your walls to spasm.

“Oh god,” he mutters as you contract around him. “oh—oh, God, baby.”

As you finish coming on Joel's cock, your whole body relaxes. You’re even wetter and more open than you were before. “Now you’re–oh yeah, you’re good,” Joel whispers to himself with his hands on the backs of your thighs. You both breathe for a moment and you begin to slowly move again.

Joel licks his finger then reaches over your ass, his hand approaching your hole from behind. You stop moving as he gently wedges the thick digit into your cunt from the top so his fingernail is against his cock. “Yeah,” he whispers, moving the finger around, checking how much you'll stretch. “Yeah,” he says as his head turns and he glances at Tommy.

Joel cups your cheek and reads your face. “Can I fuck ya with two cocks, baby?”

You spasm with an aftershock. “It won't fit,” you protest, but the thought of it turns you on. Your hips begin to move again. You're taking his cock and his finger.

“Can we find out, baby doll?” Joel asks.

You slowly move on his cock and finger, with your face close to his. Your clit is throbbing. “You aren't worried to stretch me?”

“You'll snap right back, baby,” Joel pants as he wedges another finger in with his cock.

“I dunno if I can,” you whine.

“It’s okay, darlin’. Let's find out.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Tommy gets up on his knees and gets close to Joel's shoulder, near your head.

“Get it nice and wet,” Joel tells you.

Without getting off Joel's cock, you turn your head enough to accept Tommy's cock into your mouth. You let saliva pool under your tongue, then swirl it all over his shaft until he's dripping. “alright” Tommy whispers, then you deposit the rest of the saliva from under your tongue. “Alright, don't make me cum, sweetheart.”

Tommy straddles Joel’s legs behind you while Joel hugs you close.

Tommy nudges your occupied hole. Joel slowly removes his fingers and Tommy’s tip finds its place between the first cock and the back wall of your cunt. Once Tommy's tip is nestled there, Joel’s fingers leave you and both his hands hold your sides.

“Deep breath,” Tommy whispers. You draw in a chest full of air, and when you begin to exhale, he begins to push in.

It burns for a moment as Tommy’s cockhead breaches your dripping hole, but his smooth, wet cock feels better than the fingers. “Fuck,” Tommy mutters as he pushes further.

“Daddy,” you whimper. “It's a lot.”

“I know it is, darlin’, you're doin’ so good.”

“Breathe with me, sweetheart,” Tommy whispers. You take deep breaths and try to relax. The burn fades as your body catches up. The stretch is only a little uncomfortable around their shafts at the very edge of you. Deeper inside, you feel a fullness you couldn't have imagined.

“Good,” Joel says. “doin’ real good, baby. You wanna keep goin’?”

You nod. You take deep breaths and bow your head as Tommy sinks in a little more.

“God damn, baby. Packed full of it, ain’t ya?”Joel marvels. The look on his face makes you twitch.

You lock eyes with Joel, bite your lip, and nod. Joel tilts his hips down toward the bed and you groan into Joel’s chest as Tommy pushes into you as much as he can. The burn is fading, and the sense of fullness overwhelms you in the best way. It's not just physical. You close your eyes and savor it. Joel’s hips begin to move. He slides against your front wall, nudging just the right place, making you whimper.

Tommy slides in rhythm, and his breathing is labored. “Ohhh,” he moans. “Shit-–ugggh.” He warns Joel, “I'm pretty close, brother.”

Joel looks like he's making a calculation behind his eyes. Then he reads your face. “You want double the cum, baby?”

You nod.

“That's my girl,” Joel whispers. “That’s my perfect lil girl.” His hips wiggle under you.

“Ohh-fff-uuggh” Tommy pants and pulls back.

Joel moves his hips and slides within your stuffed hole. Tommy stays still while Joel thrusts a few small strokes and you groan. Tommy pushes forward and you sigh. Joel kisses you. You push back and Tommy slides forward. Joel does another slow thrust upward, then Tommy says “fuck,” pushes another inch, then begins to cum. “Oh god,” Tommy groans. His dick pulses and pulses in your packed cunt as his warm release coats your walls and Joel's cock.

“Jesus,” Tommy sighs, then begins to pull out of you. The burn returns as the crown of his tip crests your entrance on its way out. Then you whimper in relief. There's a sense of loss as your body slowly draws itself back in, but it's a major comfort still being wrapped around Joel's cock. Tommy lies down on his back to recover.

“You did so good baby,” Joel brushes your cheek and his hips lift as your body adjusts itself back to his girth. “Ya like havin’ two cocks?” It’s the first time you haven’t felt packed full from Joel’s cock alone, and your temples feel weak.

You nod hesitantly. “Do I still feel good?”

“Oh darlin’, you feel so good,” he breathes and the tension melts away from your face.

“Yeah, I liked it,” you whisper. “But I only need one.”

He cradles your head and it feels like it's just the two of you. “Love you so much,” he whispers, and brings your face to his again, rolling his hips under you. He kisses you deeply and grinds up into you with his cock all the way inside. Your mouth breaks away with a moan, and your hips begin to move, bringing an obscene squelching sound with them.

“Oh darlin’,” Joel whispers, and he pulls you back into a kiss. He grunts into your mouth with a sharp thrust upward, and the tension boils over. You begin to clench around him. Joel breaks the kiss with a shudder, then he moans your name as you flutter around his cock. His fingers dig into your hips and he pulls you flush, then pulses with a groan. “Ohhhh, fuck—ohhh,” he sighs as he releases a massive load, more than doubling the cum inside you. The rhythm of Joel’s cock soothes you as his load combines with Tommy's.

—--

You stay on Joel’s cock for a few minutes, and he strokes your back, praising you quietly. Tommy falls asleep. Eventually you sigh and whine, "I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Ok, baby,” Joel whispers and begins to help you off his cock.

When you come back, Joel helps you into bed between them. You face Joel and he kisses you good night. You feel thankful for him as you drift off to sleep.

—-

sequel here

Thank you for reading 🖤 I know people want updates on certain Joels but I haven't been having the easiest time and sometimes writing something new is lower-pressure.

Uncle Tommy is a brain worm I've had for a couple months ever since I blurted it out in another series.

I have another recent Joel x reader ft. Tommy with a different set miller bros: leopard print

And a darker Tommy x reader here: birds of prey

-----

FIC RECS

If you like brotherly sharing, a couple of my personal favorites are

I can be your pretty girl part 4, and part 5 by (RIP) walkintotheriveranddisappear who sadly inactivated

Liquid Gold and its prequel Two Hands to Hold by @gasolinerainbowpuddles,

If you like the idea of daddy/uncle, @bonezone44 has Joel, tommy, and Ezra.

More brotherly sharing - Smack My Bitch Up, a raider AU by @milla-frenchy.

If you wanna suck Tommy's big balls, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin has you covered.

More fic recs (and more to come) on my rec blog @toxicrecs.

Alright I tried to bring my tag list back and something went wrong so I might have to remove them from the post sorry 🥲

#joel miller x reader #tommy miller x reader #joel miller x reader x tommy miller #cw dubcon #tw dubcon #toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #tommy miller smut #uncle!tommy #uncle!tommy miller #daddy!joel miller #uncle tommy #uncle tommy miller

4K notes · View notes

astonmartinii · 1 year ago

Text

peas in a pod | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!russell!reader

y/n and george russell may be twins, but they’re hardly two peas in a pod and oscar is just there for the ride

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, oscarpiastri and 602,344 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: are you alex’s appendix cause you make me wanna bust 😩

view all comments

user1: excuse me 😀

user2: sometimes i’m like yeah george and y/n are defo twins and then she says shit like this and i’m like they can’t be related

alexalbon: erm what is is ?

yourusername: gosh so other people can use your appendicitis for a seat but i can’t use it to appreciate my boyf - PC gone crazy

alexalbon: the only censorship you’ll need is when my foot is up your ass

yourusername: i’d love to see you try i’ll put you back in the hospital

alexalbon: you say that but when i woke up in hospital you were crying your eyes out begging me to never do that again 🤨

yourusername: i was CHANNELLING GEORGE OBVIOUSLY

oscarpiastri: she cried about it for a good week after alex dw she loves you really

yourusername: TURNCOAT say goodbye to your bedtime privileges

georgerussell63: okay we’ll stop right there, y/n is sorry for joking about your appendicitis alex, and y/n we will not be discussing extracurricular activities with oscar. thank you.

user3: what about the people who want to hear about the extracurriculars? and maybe want to … see them?

yourusername: @oscarpiastri how do you think mclaren would feel about an onlyfans?

oscarpiastri: i think it’ll be a hard no

yourusername: ugh boring

user4: y/n talking about an onlyfans whereas i don’t believe george has even seen a naked woman

oscarpiastri: i love you and your dumb fucking pick up lines

yourusername: what do you mean i’m literally the reincarnation of william shakespeare?

georgerussell63: more like e l james

yourusername: i knew it was you who stole my copy of 50 shades GIVE IT BACK

yourusername: anyhow … i love you too babe x

user5: every comment section we learn new y/n russell lore and it shocks me everytime

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 734,513 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: in this house i guess we celebrate hit tweets? happy one year anniversary to the alpine breakup

view all comments

user6: CAKE SCARED ME FOR A SEC I WON'T LIE

yourusername: i think the technical term is “stunting on these hoes”

oscarpiastri: for pr reasons i will not be agreeing

yourusername: @ otmar HE BROKE I’M UP

oscarpiastri: you’re going to get me into even more trouble than that tweet did

yourusername: blame me and tell them to meet me in the car park, no weapons just fists

oscarpiastri: maybe let’s not

yourusername: you don’t wanna be my sexy ring girl? :(

georgerussell63: one day of not threatening people is all i ask for

yourusername: you weren’t saying that when i beat that year 13 guy’s ass in year ten for picking on you 🤨

georgerussell63: well yes but needs must

oscarpiastri: sorry george i’m siding with y/n she’s not afraid to tell the waiter they got my order wrong

landonorris: and she can square up to the people who won’t leave us alone in clubs

georgerussell63: okay i get it damn

yourusername: SMASH

alexalbon: you can’t let anything be normal can you?

yourusername: since you wanna be in my business… lily is a smash too

alexalbon: excuse me?

yourusername: let it be known if i weren’t already with the love of my life, id steal your girl

lilymunhe: oh wow … umm ☺️😳

alexalbon: OSCAR DO SOMETHING

oscarpiastri: idk bro im focusing on being called the love of y/n’s life

user7: silly season was so boring this year thank the lord we have y/n to cause chaos

georgerussell63: do not encourage her

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 823,410 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: you think i look bad, you should see the other girl. don’t touch men without their consent - and definitely don’t touch my man or you will be dealt with. trust.

view all comments

user8: someone leaked the video and omg that girl has hands

user9: she did NAWT hold back omg

oscarpiastri: i love you, thank you for defending my honour

yourusername: i love you too, i’d protect you with my life but don’t get it twisted, i’d throw hands for anyone

oscarpiastri: no but for real i’m very thankful for you standing up for me

user10: why is everyone praising this? all this shows me is that piastri is a pussy that needs his gross girlfriend to stand up for him?

yourusername: i’m going to stop you right there. that girl thought she could touch a man without his consent, and it’s completely out of order. so she was handed the consequences. oscar couldn’t do anything so it fell into my hands. you are the problem, do not talk down to him or other victims in those situations.

georgerussell63: as much as i joke, im glad you and oscar have each other.

yourusername: thank you georgie

oscarpiastri: thanks george, but your sister is the real knight in shining armour here

yourusername: i'll always save you princess 👸

alexalbon: everyone is being very sentimental but YO I KNEW YOU SAID YOU HAD HANDS BUT DAMN

user11: alex spill how brutal was it?

alexalbon: i had a front seat and it was like prime anthony joshua she was NOT playing

yourusername: oh wow that’s a big statement

alexalbon: i don’t wanna sound unprofessional but it was honestly crazy and i am so impressed y/n should really consider combat sports

yourusername: in my defence she just fully turned in on my fist

georgerussell63: okay normal service resumed she's making fun of me again :(

user12: why are we celebrating violence?

user13: people have no respect for the drivers these days, just because you’re in the same club as them does not mean that you’re entitled to harass them ??? you fuck around you’re going to find out… esp when y/n is around LOL

oscarpiastri

liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,023,444 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: so a lot has happened. i don't want to give the girl any more attention. i love my girlfriend and i love how much she loves me. cry more.

view all comments

user14: OOP HE GAGGED THE HOES

georgerussell63: "cry more" y/n has clearly been rubbing off on you

yourusername: i can assure you i've done much more than just rub off on him

georgerussell63: NO NO STOP RIGHT THERE MISSY

oscarpiastri: to be fair you walked right into that one george

georgerussell63: introducing you two really is the stupidest thing i've ever done

oscarpiastri: first of all, arthur introduced us months before you "introduced us", second of all, this is a lot coming from the guy who cried to me about how i'm so great for your sister and can't wait to have me as a brother-in-law

yourusername: AWWW GEORGIE YOU SOFTIE

georgerussell63: yes i am soft. i love love. sue me gosh.

user15: they are so aesthetically pleasing to my eyes

landonorris: so does like y/n wanna give self defence classes?

yourusername: for a price, soz nothing comes for free in this economy

danielricciardo: please can you do classes? i wanna harness your rabid chihuahua energy

yourusername: i am NOT. a chihuahua take that back daniel

oscarpiastri: she's more like a kangaroo, cute but will steal your dog and beat your ass

yourusername: true, i just wanna put you in my pouch

yourusername: that sounds weird, but i just wanna hold you and never let go

danielricciardo: okay i was just messing around no need to be disgustingly cute

logansargeant: i'm glad you're both okay, but that room service debrief went so hard

oscarpiastri: honestly if i weren't holding an ice pack to my girlfriend's face it would've been top two

yourusername: eh i think it's still top two, nothing is unseating when we were next door to lando shagging and we made it a drinking game 😭

landonorris: WHAT ????

oscarpiastri: no comment

logansargeant: no comment

yourusername: it was drink every time you moaned impressively loud 👍

landonorris: no comment

alexalbon

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 822,304 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri, lilymunhe

alexalbon: idc you can never get me to hate her ass if you poke the bear expect to get bitten

view all comments

user16: sorry to the galex truthers but y/n and alex are the superior friendship

yourusername: i knew you loved me + and i knew you loved oscar SEND ME THE LAST PIC NEW LOCKSCREEN INCOMING

alexalbon: i've been the personal photographer for both russells for years and i'm only just being appreciated

yourusername: HOLD ON i take just as many of you and lily

alexalbon: well that's easier because we're much easier to photograph

oscarpiastri: WOAH hold your horses pal, call me ugly all you want but one shall not dishonour y/n

alexalbon: okay someone spent the break at the russell house

yourusername: HE'S NOT UGLY YOU POOL NOODLE TAKE IT BACK

alexalbon: damn it's a tough crowd. and on a post literally appreciating you

yourusername: bare minimum

user17: okay the kardashians are over - netflix can we please get a drive to survive spin off about y/n, george, oscar and alex ????

landonorris: lando norris erasure

charles_leclerc: charles leclerc erasure

oscarpiastri: move over twitch quartet, there's a new sheriff in town

landonorris: okay i'm banning y/n from mclaren you've spent too much time with her and now a rookie is bullying me :(

yourusername: he ate you up... i'm so proud

landonorris: is this the environment the russells promote? @georgerussell63

georgerussell63: you're on your own on this one lando i gave up years ago

yourusername: @oscarpiastri i think that's called maximising our joint slay

oscarpiastri: they wish they were us for real

user18: i love watching a black cat gf slowly corrupt her golden retriever bf

yourusername: oscar is like an evil little kitten really

oscarpiastri: and you love it

note: quick one cause i'm in my feelings. enjoy this random oscar cuteness he is an aussie queen (also a friend of mine literally went to the same school as him it's so weird)

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #oscar piastri instagram au #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader

4K notes · View notes

thebestofoneshots · 8 months ago

Text

No Sweeter Innocence than Our Gentle Sin Pt.1 | Remus Lupin x Reader

Pairing: Priest!Remus x reader

Word Count: 8.6 k

Prompt: You did not want to go to church that day, but your spirits are uplifted when you meet Father Remus, and your mind starts creating a mischievous scheme, to both retaliate over those years of being forced to go and take something from them.

Alternatively, R is really mad at the church and decides to steal one of their priests for it (but also kind of falls for him).

Warnings: SMUT, Non-apt for Christians(?). Reader is a little cynical (or maybe cynical Af). Suggestive talks, touching oneself, fingering. Reader seduces a Priest (so whatever you might expect from that), hierophiIia, corruption!kink, praise!kink (if you squint). Consent is sexy!

Proofread by lovely @aremuslupinsimp

Part 2 is out now!

♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut

ACT I: Remember to keep holy the LORD’s Day

You really didn’t want to go to church. You had one hell of a week and you were incredibly tired so when you got the phone call with your grandma inviting you to go, you were about ready to say no.

But your grandma has always been extremely catholic, and while you weren’t anymore, you hadn’t seen her in a while, and you missed her. Her being in town for your short vacation was a good enough reason to visit her more often (she was staying with your parents) and if you’d have to live through a whole hour of some boring priest talking about all the things that are wrong with society nowadays, then you would. Even if you didn’t want to.

That didn’t stop you from being cranky over the fact that you’d have to wake up extra early to take the 40-minute ride to the church she claimed “was the best one in the city,” according to her priest back at home (of course she couldn’t just ask you to the nearest fucking church).

Breathe, you told yourself. This is for your grandma, you repeated as you sat on the narrow seat of public transport, next to the gym bro that smelled like he could use a shower and whose massive arms would bump into you whenever the bus went through a pothole.

When you finally reached your spot, you had to wake him up so he would move his massive legs to the side and you could fucking pass through, walking down the bus in the sea of people that for some reason had taken the same one. Once outside you took a deep breath and tried to relax again. You didn’t want to look as pissed as you felt when you finally saw your grandma. At least it was a fucking cloudy day and you wouldn’t have to deal with the sun as you walked the 4 blocks left you had until you arrived at the church.

Who the fuck would invent a church so goddamn far from everything important? You wondered as you approached.

Oh, you thought once you saw it. Someone who wanted a lot of space then.

The church was massive. And while you might have been prone to exaggerate when you were pissed, you were far from exaggerating now. It was almost a small castle, maybe the largest church in the city, certainly the largest one you had seen in your life (not that you had seen a great many but certainly a few).

On the outside, there were very many intricate details carved, a few gargoyles at the top in a very Notre Dame-esque sort of way. Except while Notre Dame ended in a very square and neat way, the towers of this one extended far above the roof and ended in a pointy, almost menacing sort of way. You had been so absorbed by the intricate details of the tower, that you didn’t realise you were walking straight into someone.

“Uhh sorry,” you said as you stumbled back, pulling your gaze from the structure and towards the person right in front of you. You were absorbed by him the second your eyes met his: golden brown, almost shining with the way the sun was hitting them. You weren’t sure you had ever seen a more perfect person in your life, they were exactly your–

“I see you’ve met Father Remus!” Your grandma said as she grabbed onto your arm and pulled you back from him a couple more steps.

Father? He’s married? You wondered until you noticed his clothes, all-black suit, white necktie, she meant Father as in Priest?!?

The man –Remus– smiled, gentle, sweet and caring. “Nice to meet you…” there was silence. It took you a second to realise the man was expecting your name, and you gave it to him, fast and still slightly disoriented.

“Come on, angel,” your nan said as she pulled you towards the entrance. “We can talk after the mass.”

“Nice to meet you, Remus,” you said, turning up your most charming smile as you waved goodbye to the man. His eyes seemed to trail on your hand, but your grandma pulled you again, and you were forced to turn around.

“It’s Father Remus,” your grandma corrected.

“Right, sorry,” you said, almost carelessly, not carelessly enough for her to notice, though.

“I’m glad you came, I don’t think any of your cousins made it.”

“Oh, it was nothing, Nan,” you said as you turned around to see if Remus was still around. He was not anymore, you turned back to her. “It’s lovely to be here with you.”

That wasn’t entirely a lie, you liked spending time with her, she was lovely. But you did not like going to the church, you had long parted with the catholic ideals and you weren’t interested in most of the archaic teachings of the church. Especially the homophobic ones, you thought the closed-mindedness of the church was a terrible thing, and that it stopped many people from being who they truly were, not to mention how it affected a lot of people you knew. It was because of that close-mindedness that some of your friends had to hide themselves from their parents. Because god forbid their children were gay.

Now, not everything about the church was bad, some values were good and important, but at this point in the progressive world, perhaps the bad outweighed the good. And in the end, religions were just a way of controlling the masses, no surprise the church service was called “mass”.

You could have made a list of everything that was wrong, in a very Lutheran manner, sent it to your grandma and never attended again, but she was old and you knew there was no way she’d understand, especially when she’d been conditioned to think a certain way for far more years than you’d been alive. So instead, you decided to sit through the service with her, and make her happy, rather than be the rebel you sometimes wanted to be.

Ah the service, it was boring until Remus came out. If you thought he’d look handsome in the cassock, you could have been awestruck when you saw him wearing that white alb. Yes, those Sunday school days had taught you enough. He wore a cincture around the waist that matched the alb, and you’d swear you deserve hell when you pictured yourself pulling the entire thing off him in a secret corner of the massive church. In the middle of mass, while the head priest kept talking about things related to Jesus and how he saved someone or whatever, you were thinking of calm and collected Father Remus, losing control and giving in to the lust of the flesh, and all of it for you.

A small smirk played on your face as you thought of all the things you’d like to do to Remus, of all the sounds you’d have him make. Was it sinful? Perhaps. Did it warrant hell? Most likely. Luckily, you didn’t believe in hell any more than you believed in heaven.

And then it came to you. The idea that would certainly warrant a hell of a lot more than your lewd imaginings. If stealing was a sin, then how sinful would it be to steal something from god? To pilfer one of his men for yourself?

What an ungodly thing to do, so devilish that perhaps you wouldn’t be in hell to be punished but rather to punish. Was it perhaps a revenge for being forced into church for so many years, for having to sit through hours of Sunday School and the indoctrination you had to put up with but somehow managed to see past? Yeah. But at this point, you weren’t sure you cared. Something about Remus had sucked you in like a moth to a flame and you wanted to cling to whatever that was. Otherwise, you might have not be able to go through with your plan.

It wouldn’t happen all in one day, it couldn’t happen all in one day. It had to be slow, steady, and repetitive, like the snake tempting Eve, like Eve tempting Adam. You hadn’t seen yourself as a sexy woman throughout your life, at least not the kind of Sexy Femme Fatale that men seemed to live and diе for in movies. No, you had never been like that, and you wouldn’t start today. But you would perform the most outrageous and strong act of seduction you had ever thought of and it had to be done perfectly, or you wouldn’t get what you wanted.

What was it that you wanted again? Right, you wanted Remus Lupin.

ACT II: Thou shall not steal

“When was the last time you confessed?” Your Nan whispered as she leaned onto you, people were already standing for communion.

You hesitated. “I’m not sure, Nan.”

She hummed in return, clearly disapproving of your distancing from the church. You were sure she would have called you heathen if you said the truth, it had been years.

“I could go up and confess now,” you said as you looked at the confessionary in the back, you had seen Remus enter it, but you suspected it was too soon to start with the plan.

“No darling, repent for your sins and you can confess later. Perhaps after mass.”

“Or during the week,” you said with a knowing smile.

“Isn’t it a long way from your apartment?”

“I’m sure it’ll be worth it anyway.”

She stood up and took the communion, leaving you sitting on the chair and looking at the way people would walk toward the altar. Judging them, if that made sense. There was a woman who accommodated her breasts back in her seat before standing up, she threw a look at one of the other priests as she took the host. You gave her an approving sort of glance before you turned to someone else. Now you didn’t exactly consider her way of seducing appealing, but then again, yours wouldn’t be much better either. So to each their own. The man behind her had been touching himself in the very back of the church and had stared at her ass throughout the entire line, probably for more material.

Sinners, the church claiming to be so saint, and it was full of them.

You weren’t much better than them either, the difference is that you didn’t harbour the same hate towards yourself for it. No, you knew what nature was and you knew that despite how much we humans pretended to be better, we still were all animals. And there are a few things that animals want and need. Love, or the act of love, was one of them. That’s what you’d be using to your favour.

When your Nan came back, you helped her kneel and do her praying; all the while you attentively looked around. Remus had left the concessionary already and he was at the front with the rest of the priests. He spotted you looking at him and you smiled kindly, innocently at him. The kind of smile someone with the thoughts surging in your head wouldn’t be able to give, and yet, you accomplished it seamlessly.

He gave you a courteous nod and you reciprocated it. The rest of the mass was as boring as you’d expect it to be; except for the fact that Remus was looking at you rather often, either he was curious about their new parishioner, or he was interested. Either way, you were sure you’d be able to use that in your favour.

When the mass was over, you had to wait for all of them to exit the church first and then you helped your Nan stand and walked with her towards the entrance. Remus was there, giving short blessings and handing out some pamphlets about donations and other similar stuff. Your grandma was the one to pull you towards him. “What a wonderful mass,” she said. “Father Ernest was onto something when he told me to come here while I was in the city.”

“Thank you,” Remus said bashfully, you could almost see him blush at the praise. What would a real blush look on him? You were dying to know.

“Wonderful indeed, although I would have liked to hear your interpretation of the verses, Remus,” You said.

“Father Remus,” your grandma corrected.

“Oh, it’s fine. If it feels more personal you may call me just Remus, dear one.”

You tried to hold back the snide smile you would have thrown your Nan had it been any other woman. You could call him Remus. You were a dear one.

“Right, perhaps another day,” you added with a smile and pulled your grandma to the side so the next person could take the blessing.

“I preach on Wednesdays,” Remus said, tone borderline desperate, as he raised his head over the people and women piling around him. Clearly, you weren’t the only one to harbour a little crush on Father Remus. It didn’t matter though, because you’d be the one to have him.

Next Wednesday you didn’t make any plans, and you put on something simple but elegant. A squared-neck shirt and a pair of jeans. When you arrived at the church, you didn’t waste as much time admiring it, instead, you decided to walk straight inside. His mass had started already, and you sneaked in through the side until you reached the third row of seats. There weren’t as many people as you’d expect on a Wednesday, but Remus was preaching like there were hundreds. He was wonderful.

He had a way with words that made you want to listen, perhaps if you weren’t so cynical, it would even convert you. But rather than thinking of his prayer, you were thinking of how incredible he would be as a teacher, you imagined the students, squirming for him and his words in their seats. You imagined the older, more daring girls going after him. You were lucky that wasn’t the situation, the kind of woman that could seduce any man had the benefit of practice that you didn’t. You wouldn’t have stood a chance against them.

But the kind of woman that went to the church, the kind that flocked to him at the end of mass, they weren’t a threat. They were too pious to try anything even remotely similar to what you had in mind. In fact, you even dared to think you were lucky that he had been a priest and not a teacher because then he would have perhaps been married, and while you were willing to take a man from god, you would never take one from another woman. You had limits.

After the mass was over, you waited a few minutes before leaving the church “accidentally” bumping into him again. “Remus,” you said with a smile. “We seem to continue bumping into each other,” you added as you leaned closer to him and pressed your cheek to his, making a low smacking sound, and then repeating on the other side. He looked bewildered at the contact. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable? I got this habit while I was in France and I still haven’t shaken it off completely.”

“Oh… No, no,” hesitant, bashful, you loved every bit of it. “Not at all, it’s fine. You can greet me however you like.”

“Is that privilege reserved to me, or does every other parishioner have it?” He seemed taken aback by your words. “I’m joking, Remus,” you added and placed your hand on his arm, before pulling it back tentatively. “Your mass was wonderful.”

“Thank you, I’m lucky to work at Saint Gryffin.”

“The way I see it, Saint Gryffin is lucky to have you. I mean lots of women come here to see the beautiful priest Remus.”

“You think?” he asked. Remus didn’t exactly consider himself handsome, he thought his scars would scare people away rather than attract them. But he sometimes failed to see past them and didn’t pay attention to his beautiful eyes, to his charming smile, to his long lashes, or to his well-toned frame. It was as if he had been carved by Michael Angelo himself, from your perspective.

“For sure,” you replied. “Take a closer look at the way they look at you on Sunday and you’ll see.” He blushed, a deeper shade of red than your Nan had pulled out of him, you resisted the urge to bite your lip and smiled instead. “Today was lovely, I’ll see you around,” you said before waving goodbye and exiting the church.

You went again a week later, Remus would sometimes lose his focus on the bible and look at you instead. That day you had chosen a skirt. Nothing too short or indecent, but certainly short enough to allow your legs to be seen and admired. An older man hadn’t stopped staring at you throughout the mass, and you would have perhaps told him off if it hadn’t been for the fact that Remus had been in a similar position.

Remus’ distraction, his hesitance and his constant turning to you were enough to drive your attention away from the man and onto him. You would smile, and you would nod, and you would pretend to be a supportive little lamb. Innocent, and meek and kind. Just what he expected from you. And it was that Wednesday, the third time that you’d met him, that you realised you had him right where you wanted him to be.

He for sure had a thing for you, be it curiosity, admiration, or a small crush. You had gotten his attention, and you had gotten into his mind. Now all you needed was to have him.

ACT III: Thou shall not Covet someone else’s property

The next Wednesday you had been late, you had allowed your hair to be slightly dishevelled and your cheeks were warm, despite the autumn getting colder. You had bitten your lips and you looked like you had just gotten away from a dire situation. You’d done it on purpose. When his gaze fell on you he almost stopped talking completely. He staggered to complete his words and you nodded for him to go on. When he was done, he rushed out, and you stayed in your seat. Eyes closed and hands clasping each other, pretending to pray.

That’s when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, he whispered your name. “Are you okay, Little Lamb?”

It took a real effort not to laugh at his nickname. Not because you thought it was stupid, but because you were so far from a lamb that you might as well have been the wolf that ate it. You turned to him, fake distress clouding your features, “I’ve done something terrible, Remus.”

He was kind, almost impossibly so, it almost made you want to stop your plan and leave him the pure man he was.

Almost.

“I’m sure there’s nothing you could do, that was as bad as you’ve described.”

“I’d like to confess,” you said. “Would you take my confession?”

Remus seemed hesitant, biting his lip. He knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t hear your confession, not when he wanted to maintain a personal relationship with you, not when he’d develop a crush. But it was in your preoccupied gaze, in the small frown that etched your features, in the way your lips curved down and in the bobbing of your throat as you swallowed. How ever could he deny you?

Oh, those thoughts would be the ones that would drag him into sin, nay, not drag, but rather, waft him into it. If Remus hadn’t been so enamoured by you, perhaps corrupting him would have proved a harder task to accomplish for you.

“Okay,” he said simply. And helped you stand. Guiding you towards the empty confessionary and sitting in his spot as you opened the door to the other one. It was a narrow place, enough for you to sit. There was a screen dividing the two of you, you couldn’t see him, but you suspected he could see you. And there was a small, square hole in between, enough to fit perhaps a hand. You assumed it was there in case you’d like to give something to the priest, as a thank you.

Remus cleared his throat, and in the most professional way he could muster he said, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen. My child, what brings you to the sacrament of confession today?”

His voice had been different, stronger as if he was trying not to be himself. You loved it. “Father, I come seeking forgiveness for my sins. I have strayed from the path of righteousness and I seek reconciliation,” you let your voice bend and crack near the end.

“I am here to listen, my child. Let us begin with a moment of reflection. Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess.”

You held back the smirk that threatened to appear when he said that, just in case he was actually able to see you. “I have fallen in love with a man I cannot have.”

“Oh, darling,” he said, that was Remus, not Father Remus. You had cracked through his façade and you hadn’t even started. “That is not a sin. It’s happened to the best of us.”

“But it is a sin the way I think of him, Father,” you responded. You heard a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t speak further. “I have dreamt of him, of his lips, of his eyes with long lashes, the way his hair frames his face, of his beautiful and strong hands–” Remus tried not to be jealous of the man you described, but everything about him seemed perfect, and unlike himself, he probably could have you. Your beautiful lips, and eyes, focused solely on him. He hated the guy already. “–sliding between my legs, and touching me.”

“Do not speak further,” there was an edge of alarm in his voice. A bit of a broken end to it.

“Oh but Father I must,” you said. “If I don’t I’m afraid I’ll act upon my feelings in the same way I did today while thinking of him.”

“You…” he hesitated. “You touched yourself… Is that why you’re here?”

“Yes,” you replied with a frown, almost a wince, all of it an act, of course.

“Pray Our Father 10 times and–”

“No! Allow me to relate my story, Father,” he tried to stop you. “I must, I must, or then I might go to him and offer myself in a terrible, ungodly manner and then I won’t ever be deserving of the church ever again.”

Frankly, you didn’t even know how you’d gotten so inspired, but Remus relented, nodding and when he realised you hadn’t heard, he bit his cheek and said. “Go on then.”

You sighed, that was a real sigh, you weren’t sure you’d get this far. “I had a dream of him, Father. He was handsome as ever, and he looked at me, with such kind eyes, with such loving eyes, that when he leaned in to kiss me, I didn’t stop him.”

Remus was already praying for himself. He did not want to imagine you in your bed, your hair sprawled over the pillow and your mind away in a dream, kissing another man.

“I didn’t stop him when he pinned me against the wall, and I didn’t stop him when his hand dug under my shirt. I said nothing when it travelled to my breast, and I all but moaned when he pinched my nipple.”

“That is enough, I get the idea.”

“But that’s not the whole dream,” you protested, you sounded mortified. How could he stop your repentance for his own misguided thoughts? A man of God wasn’t supposed to harbour this kind of feelings for a fellow human, he was not meant to like you so much, and his pants were not meant to be as uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to go onto the details–”

“But Father, I must repent for all of my sins.”

Remus sighed, “Go on then.”

“And then when he reached down, oh Remus, I spread my legs for him rather than shut them close…” you didn’t say a thing. You could hear his breathing had gotten a lot more ragged. “He slid this hand through my knickers and touched me, that place that should only be touched by your husband. And… it felt good. I moaned his name until my voice went hoarse in the dream. I saw him pump himself and woke up as he rubbed his cock onto my folds.”

There was a sigh of relief when he thought the story was over. “It is good that you repent–”

“The worst part is yet to come.” You said, and you breathed. “When I awoke, I felt a wetness between my legs. My underwear was moist and the stickiness had rubbed onto my legs. I know I shouldn’t have done it, Remus, but I couldn’t resist the temptation. I wanted to know if it would feel as good as in the dream.”

“Child.”

“I reached down and repeated the actions the man had done to me. My fingers weren’t as strong or secure, but I found a spot that felt incredible, and I kept touching it, rubbing it, circling around it.”

Remus’ boner was straining against his pants in an almost painful way. He wanted to let go, he wanted to set him free and chase his own pleasure at your words. At how he pictured you in your bed, sweaty and sighing as you touched yourself. You were so beautiful, he found innocence even in the way you sinned.

“And then there was bliss, I thought I was dеad and had gone to heaven, but I came back, vision cloudy and disoriented. My bedsheets were sticky with my juices and I had to change them. I’ve been in a permanent state of shame ever since then.”

“Let us pray for your forgiveness,” Remus said. And my own, he thought. Now not only your sheets had been stained, but so had his pants, just from hearing you. You would have relished on the knowledge if you’d had it.

“Thank you, Father,” you said as you stood.

“Pray tell me child, whoever is this man that has you in such an altered state of mind?”

Got him! you thought as you turned your gaze to the confessionary. And almost in a whisper, you murmured. “Well, it’s you, Remus.”

ACT IV: Thou shall not commit adultery

Remus couldn’t stop thinking of you since that day. He’d get boners with the mere thought of you, with the idea of you going back to his confessionary and telling him all the lewd things you had done while thinking of him again.

He thought of you in the shower, and he thought of you in bed, and he thought of you while praying to try and take his mind away from you as well. He knew he was in deep trouble and he had no one he could talk to about his problem.

He had avoided touching himself, but it was hard and it was painful to ignore the throbbing sometimes, and he had to give in. Gently brushing his hand on top of his trousers until either it subdued or he came, completely forgetting who he was and thinking only of your hot lips in his and your legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed you in the exact same way he’d had you in your dream. A dream that had now become as much his as it had been yours.

The next Wednesday he was nervous. Bouncing his leg while he had breakfast and playing with his nails while he read the verse he’d have to give that day. His breath was stuck in his throat as he started to preach and he waited. And waited as he spoke and looked at the door and then back at the bible held between his hands and then back at the door.

You didn’t go to church that day.

Naturally, he was mortified. Thinking he had done something wrong, thinking he had scared you and thinking he’d pushed you away somehow. Thinking you were too scared to see him again after those lewd dreams, thinking –God forbid- you had chosen a different church to attend.

So when the next Wednesday you showed up with a small skirt (the smallest you had ever gone to church with) and a simple preppy-looking sweater he couldn’t help but be both relieved and terrified, all at the same time. You had tinted your lips red, not enough for it to be lipstick, but enough for them to look raw and bitten, and while your hair was perfectly put together, and your makeup right in place, there was something about you that screamed danger.

You sat right in the very first row. There were like 5 other people in the massive church that day. Someone sitting in the middle. A couple of old people in the back and a few others scattered around. No one young, and no one near the front either.

Oh, what a terrible thing it was that you were about to do.

Remus was quick to dismiss his deacons, asking them to go fetch something while he preached mass and they gave him a courteous nod while he started talking. As per usual, you listened attentively, paying close attention to the things he said, and despite yourself, often finding the things that you disagreed with. You realized he could barely take his eyes off you, and you slowly, spread your legs. Only a little, only enough to get his attention. You saw the way he licked his lips, and went back to talking. And you smiled. You pulled your ass back and opened yourself a little wider before crossing one leg over the other. You accommodated your skirt with your hand, slow and steady. Pulling your skirt up to show more skin before pulling it down and settling it in place, but only after he’d noticed, and seen as much of skin as possible, all the while, pretending to be doing it all innocently. Like you hadn’t worn that small skirt on purpose and like you hadn’t taken off your knickers and placed them in your bag in that public loo before walking inside the church.

When the mass ended, you saw Remus disappear into the confessionary. Onto the confession side. You saw him look around and then get inside, nervous as if scared to be seen. Probably trying to run away from you. When you made sure that there was no one left, you walked inside the other side. He was hunched, elbows leaning on his knees and head hidden between his hands. You thought you had gone too far since he looked like he had been crying, but you quickly realised he had been praying instead.

Sure, he’d have complicated thoughts, but your plan was meant to be fun for the two of you, and you wanted him to enjoy being corrupted as much as you enjoyed corrupting him.

“Remus,” you said tentatively. “Are you okay?”

He gasped and turned to the small division, he couldn’t see you, but you could see him perfectly. “It’s you.”

Rather than replying you cocked your head to the side. “Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess,” you joked. He gave you a stern look from the other side, a reproaching sort of look as if he wanted to tell you how terrible it was for you to impersonate a Priest, but he didn’t speak. “Or should I speak of mine first?”

“Please don’t.”

“Then sing, little bird.”

Remus huffed. “I’ve been thinking about a woman, non-stop.”

“A church woman?”

“I’m not sure if she really is a church woman anymore.”

“A devil?”

“No.”

You smiled, “Then, what’s so wrong about thinking of her?”

“I’m no ordinary man. It’s against my beliefs.”

“To think of a woman is against your beliefs?”

“To think of her in the way I’ve been thinking of her.”

“Which is?”

“As terrible as your dream, my darling.”

You smirked at that, biting your lip so hard you might have drawn bIood if you hadn’t stopped to say something else. “So you’ve been thinking of kissing me?”

“Yes.”

“Of touching me?”

“Yes,” he said, strained.

“Of fucking me?”

Silence.

“Have you thought of the sounds I would make, of the sighs and moans and groans?”

He closed his eyes, a deep frown etched on his features. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I used your confession to fuel my imaginations, to satisfy my carnal desires to–”

“That’s okay.”

“It is not!” he responded, distressed.

“Remus,” you said simply. “I wanted you to think of me,” you admitted. “I wanted you to think of me while you touched yourself the same way I thought of you while I did it. The same way I’ve been thinking of you while doing it, in fact.”

His head snapped your way, he seemed mortified, but you could also see one of his hands being brought down, adjusting his pants.

“Do you want me to tell you how I do it?”

“No,” he lied.

“Are you sure? I won’t ask again.”

He looked to the side, red from shame. He bit his lip. “Tell me.”

You smiled, “I lay in bed, and then these images come to my mind, I think of you, of your hands. They’re touching me, they’re everywhere. I don’t know where you ended and I start and I love every bit of it. It’s my hands that travel down my thighs but I think of them as yours. It is my fingers that slide in between my folds but I believe they’re yours.”

“Fucking hell,” he said, his grip on the wooden latch, grip tightening until his knuckles turned white. You peered through the blinds and realised the tent in his pants.

“Remus,” you said quietly. He turned to the wooden division, gaze strained, eyes filled with guilt, he was looking for you, but he couldn’t see past the squares and the small, shadow of you that got through. “Touch yourself.”

It was soft, the way you said it. Soft like a suggestion more than a command, but neither of you doubted it was the latter. And as if it had been a command from God himself, he listened and did what told. He patted himself over his black pants and hissed at the strain he’d been on. It was almost painful, how constricted and trapped his cock had been.

“Soft,” you said then, watching, resisting your own temptation to dig your hand under your skirt. “Be kind to yourself, Remus, you deserve it.”

He listened, and continued to rub himself, passing his hand back and forth and allowing it to help with the strain. “Te” –he stuttered– “tell me how you feel.”

“The inner side of my legs is soft, incredibly so,” you said. “I get chills when I run my hands close to my core.”

“It’s wet,” you said then. You had dug your hand under your skirt now. “Really wet.”

He could hear your breaths getting sharper, he assumed you were also touching yourself on the other side and he could barely think properly, barely command his hand to do what it needed to do to help himself.

“That looks painful,” you said as you saw him continue to rub himself over his trousers. “Take yourself out.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Touch yourself with your bare hand, Remus.”

He seemed like he would protest, so you decided to give him some encouragement. You placed your finger between your folds and brushed over your clit, emitting a soft moan, “Please.”

Just like before, Remus followed your command, unbuttoning his pants and pulling his boxers down enough so he could pull himself out. You smiled. “So beautiful, aren’t you?” you praised from the other side. He was long, thick and standing proud. He was hesitant at first, but he eventually placed his hand around himself. “Fuck,” he whispered. “I’d forgotten how good it feels.”

Of course, he had been a teenager once, of course, he had touched himself while feeling terrible for doing so and having grown up in a Christian household.

“Remus?”

“Yeah?” he asked, as he pumped. Slow and steady, as if he didn’t want to go too fast and show you how easy it was for him to cum at the thought of you.

“You’re making me insanely wet, I might have ruined your comfy little chair here.”

“Are you teasing me?”

“No, I’m being a good little lamb that tells no lies,” you said in response. “Ah… fuck.”

“What was that?”

“Just thinking of how incredible your hand would feel if it were doing what mine is?”

“Which is?”

“Shhh…” you said. He stopped moving. “You hear that?” you asked. It was a lewd wet sound. “It’s my finger, coming in and out of myself.”

Remus moaned your name and bit his lips. He came in his hand before he had time to really visualize you. “Ugh,” he said as he looked at the mess he’d made all over his hands, some of it also on his pants.

You took a handkerchief from your bag and passed it over your legs, collecting some of the sticky stuff between your folds and then you passed it through the small, opened section. Crossing your hand, the one with still glistening fingers over.

You knew he’d noticed the second his eyes opened wide. “So you clean yourself, I used it for myself too.” He bit his lip and carefully took it from your hands, and cleaned your fingers with it as if he tried to wash his sin by cleaning your equally sinful fingers. But he didn’t bring his cum covered hand even close to it. Let alone his cock. “What? You think it’s gross?”

“I don’t want to ruin it,” he said as he brought it close to his nose and sniffed, stifling a moan with the fabric. Now you were the speechless one. “Do you have a napkin?”

You somehow managed to pull a napkin from your bag and handed it over to him through the same place. He used that to clean himself and placed it neatly folded in one of his pockets.

“Can I keep this?” he asked as he held the handkerchief between two fingers.

“Yes,” you almost stuttered. You had never seen a man do something as ridiculous –and hot– as what he’d done.

“Will you disappear again, angel?”

“Angel?” you asked with a smirk, “I would think you’d see me as something else, a devil, perhaps.”

“Impossible, a devil wouldn’t be able to show me heaven like you did today.”

Speecheless, again. This man really could bring you to your knees. “Do you even want to see me again?”

“More than anything on this earth.”

“Fine then, I’ll come to confess tomorrow, how does that sound?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

ACT V: Thou shall honour your Mother and Father

After the heat of the moment, Remus felt the sudden urge to repent, to throw away the handkerchief and to pray in bed until his knees were raw from how much he’d been kneeling. And he tried, but even as he prayed he knew how pointless it was. The act of repenting, of praying and being forgiven for your sins, only worked if you actually felt regret over what you’d done.

But Remus was far from feeling remorseful. He had repented a great many things throughout his life. Not trusting his innocent best friend and blaming him for things that had happened, not doing more for the world when he had the chance and smaller, pesky things that most people wouldn’t bat an eyelash about but that he constantly put himself down for.

But having done what he did on the confessionary, hearing your small moans and the lewd sounds that you’d made for him, telling him what to do and how to do it, that he didn’t regret. On the other hand, he wanted to do it again. You had taken him to heaven and he was eager to see it again. And he did it, repeated the same actions, it was cold and dark and there was no one even close to his room when he pulled that handkerchief out and placed it on his face. Smelling the scent of you while he pulled himself out of his pants and jerked himself for the second time that day. He came with the thought of you at the confessionary and your name muffled by the handkerchief that he refused to move from his mouth. By the end, he was sore and delicate and he felt like he had pushed himself too hard, but he found the most peaceful sleep afterwards.

When he woke up again, he was still covered in his own cum and he had to wash the sheets of his bed in his sink before anyone noticed what he had done. The shame he felt diluting as the sun rose, and he imagined you coming back to the church. He pictured you in that small skirt you’d worn yesterday, or in the simple dress you’d taken the first time that you went to hear his mass. But he was not expecting to see you walk in the clothes you’d worn.

A white dress, long enough to reach mid-thigh, and made of soft sheer fabric layered one on top of another. He might have been imagining things but he would have sworn he could see your nipples perk through the thin fabric when you turned to him, a small, innocent smile on your face as you threw him a look and walked inside the confessionary. An angel, you really were an angel.

“Pretty thing, you’ve come back,” he said as he too walked in, this time taking the side that belonged to him, he loved that he could see you.

“I promised, Remus.”

“I know, angel. But I’m always scared I’ve dreamed you up, that you’re not real and that I was just imagining you all along.”

You smirked and pushed your hand through the small hole connecting the two of you, “I’m very real, Remus, you can touch me.”

He did, he placed his hand on top of yours and you heard a sigh of relief when his thumbs pressed onto your hand. He was careful and kind, passing his fingers over your knuckles and under your palm in a soft, gentle manner that was sending shivers down your spine. This poor man was breaking down for you, and yet he was the gentlest of them all.

“You really are,” he breathed. He didn’t know if he should be happy that you were real, or horrified by the things he’d done for you, of the things he’d do. His faith? He might have been willing to throw it all away for another chance to see you, for another chance to feel your hands, for your lips, your kisses. How could he believe in a God that had given him nothing, when you were here, willing to give him everything?

“Yesterday I saw it all and you barely got to hear me, I thought of showing you my sins rather than describing them to you today, is that okay, Father?” That last bit was a taunt, in the same way you’d been taunting him since the very beginning.

“Yes,” there was no hesitance, if anything, you would have only described the waver in his voice as excitement.

You couldn’t hold back the smirk that pulled from your lips, Remus’ breath hitched as you accommodated yourself in the chair. Leaning back and spreading your legs for him, letting the soft fabric of your dress fall in between your tights and slowly show the outline of your legs.

“When was the last time you saw a woman naked?”

“In real life? Never.”

Your head snapped to him, although all you could see was the outline of a shadow through the dark-edged wood, “Never?!? Pictures?”

“When I was around 15.” He admitted. “My best friend Peter once took a few magazines to school after the break. He said his father had gotten them for him on his 14th birthday and that he told them to take them back before his mother noticed. I barely remember them.”

“Did you jack off to them?”

“I stole a page,” he admitted with a bitter laugh. “It was this girl with a forest-green, transparent robe. I took her home with me, my father found it and he was enraged. He called me a monster and drove me straight into church.”

“The priest there took a look at the image, and made me kneel down on the rocky floor and pray for forgiveness. I don’t know if he forgot, or if he did it on purpose, but he said not to stand until he came back and he didn’t come back until 7 hours later.”

“My god,” you said. Remus didn’t even think of reprimanding you for taking his name in vain. “That must have been awful. Your parents were terrible.”

Remus shrugged, “It’s what I was used to,” he added when he remembered you couldn’t actually see him, although you could feel his hands tense at the thought.

“That means, since then… you’ve never even–?”

“No,” he admitted softly. “I guess it’s easier not to do something when you don’t know how it feels. Although my best friend was always eager to tell me how good it was.”

“Worry not, you won’t have to use your imagination anymore,” you said as you pulled your hand back into your area and moved it to the thin strap of the dress, slowly sliding it down, he could barely see the valley of your breast, and yet he felt himself start to tense, his cheeks heat and bIood rushing south.

“You don’t have to–”

“But I want to,” you said, turning your gaze from your bare shoulder and towards him, he could see the mirth shining in your eyes, he could see the mischievousness and the licentiousness reflected on your pupils. You pulled the other strap down and then moved both of your hands to the fabric at the top of your breasts, pulling it down and letting them in full view.

Remus breathed sharply when he finally saw them. Of course, he knew what they looked like, the girls in Peter’s magazine had shown him. James had described them, but that was nothing compared to seeing them in real life, it was nothing compared to seeing yours in real life.

You smiled at the little to no sound he was making from the other side. You leaned your back on the stunningly carved wooden wall of the confessionary and squared your shoulders for him. “They look like this for you,” you said as you slid your hand over one of your nipples. “They turned hard the minute I spotted you at the door.”

Silence, nothing more than a ragged breath.

“Cat got your tongue?” You teased.

“I had never seen a prettier thing in my life,” he said. “Except for your angelic face, that is.”

You laughed in return, a sweet and soft laugh that he would have done anything to hear again. “You’re good at this for someone who’s never done it.”

“Good at what?”

“At making a woman blush.” You said. “But I’m just as good,” you added as you pulled one of your legs up on the small seat, your dress fell over and bunched up covering your core, but Remus barely even cared, he was immersed in the plushness of your thigh, imagining how it would feel wrapped around his waist.

You heard him swallow thickly.

“In my dream,” you started, “In my dream, we weren’t here, we were hiding somewhere in the church.” Your breath had slowed down, one of your hands was playing with your thigh, the other one on your breast. You didn’t usually pay much attention to them, but it was that you knew his eyes were on you, that touching them, knowing how it must have made him feel, was turning you on even more than before. “You were kissing me –ah– you were touching me.”

Remus was, by now, having to adjust his extremely uncomfortable pants.

“How?” he asked, almost in a whisper. “Show me how I was touching you.”

You couldn’t even hold back the smile from your face. “You traced your fingers over my thigh,” you placed your hand on your bare knee, and then started to move it downwards, towards yourself. “You were kissing me here,” you added as you leaned your neck to the side for him to see better. And then… you touched me here.” Your hand was already in your core. You moved the ruffles of the dress to the side, allowing him to see, to see all of you. You heard a small gasp, when he noticed you had worn no knickers.

“You slid your hands on my slit,” you said and followed your own instructions, “Soft and gentle, like you are when you’re preaching. In the same way that you moved your delicate slender fingers over the bible,” you breathed, a little more ragged now. “You slid one of your fingers in between my folds, and looked for my clit. You found it almost instantly, and you rolled your finger over it gently, you loved my whimpers.”

“I do,” he agreed. “I imagined them while touching myself last night. Those wet little sounds you make when you–”

“Ah,” you breathed as you dug your fingers inside yourself, your walls tightening around it involuntarily. “Like this?” you asked and smiled, biting your lip before you did it again. You brought the hand on your breast downwards and leaned back a little so you could spread your legs even further. Remus’ mouth watered, he wondered how wrong would it be to taste you?

To bury his head in your legs and lick all of the wetness that coated your fingers, to be so close that the smell of you got everywhere, that he wouldn’t need the handkerchief to feel you close. You continued to touch yourself. Breathing heavily, sighting and moaning softly, he wondered what that would feel if it were directly whispered into his ear.

You were so lost in yourself for those first few minutes, so wrapped in the feeling that you hadn’t realized the lack of beautiful moans from his side.

“Remus–” you said breathily, “Why aren’t you touching yourself?”

“Yesterday at night I– I did it again… a couple of times. I’m, it’s a little painful,” he admitted shamefully, but your eyes shone with lust so intense at his words that he continued talking. “It was your little handkerchief’s fault. I was going to wash it, but I got its scent and it made me feral.”

“Aha?” you asked, as you continued to touch yourself.

“I couldn’t stop thinking of you. Shut my door and laid on my bed with it over my nose.”

You hummed contentedly, half a moan, half a hum.

“I was so hard it was ridiculous. I had barely even smelled you. I hadn’t even gone through the images of that wonderful dream of yours.”

You sighted in bliss, breath ragged as you slid your finger out of yourself and turned to him with a smile.

“I have an idea,” you said and then let out a breathy laugh.

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astrow1zar6 · 1 year ago

Text

Astrology Observations- 013

I notice Cap Mercurys think so maturely even from such a very young age. These were those kids that always wanted to hang around people older than them. They are old souls at heart and sometimes it’s harder for them to connect with more childlike energies. People their age can see them as boring because of their serious demeanor.

Leo Risings never like to show the sides to them that make them look bad in anyway. These people have big egos so any assumption from others that they aren’t anything but great can take a big toll on their self esteem. They come off so confident but most are really insecure & don’t think they are interesting so they tend exaggerate a lot of facts about them to keep people thinking they are really interesting and amazing. (U guys don’t need ti do that people already think you are before you even speak)

Capricorn risings always look so annoyed when people are speaking to them. Most of the time they are. They have very honest expressions and when someone says something stupid or uninteresting they are more willing to show their uninterested while most are just willing to smile and take it out of being polite. This is why they can come off as rude or snobbish but really the just don’t have time for bullshit. (I definitely think Wednesday Addams has this placement) many don’t know they are being rude but most don’t have the energy to be fake if they really don’t like what the others saying. Very Real people many mistake them for being Scorpio risings.

Venus in Scorpios were probably shamed a lot for their their sex appeal/drives. I notice these people have a very provocative vibe to them that causes a lot of ppl to sexualize them ( especially the women). I’ve seen women with this placement be virgins and still get slut shamed. People always assume they sleep with mad people even if it’s not true.

Moon in 5th housers are actually very secretive about their talents. A lot are so talented but most tend to keep their hobbies and interests to themselves unless they really trust you.

When someone with Venus in the 7th house likes you they will talk about their future a lot with you. This one guy had a big crush on me and would always joke about getting married and starting a life someday ( he made it sound as a joke but in a way I can tell he meant it). Also can be obsessed with weddings. I have a friend with this placement who says she’ll only wanna get married to experience having her dream wedding lol

Venus in 2nd house women always have people buying them things bro. They don’t even have to ask and men will be buying them expensive gifts or paying for their food or trips. Definition of pretty privilege.

Mars in Aquarius like very eccentric things in bed. It’s almost like they enjoy the opposite of what should be expected in bed. Like the women would like to take normally the male role in bed and vice versa a man with this placement could like a very submissive role. The weirder and more out of place the more turned on they get. Can also be really experimental they are willing to try anything once even if it’s outlandish.

Mars in Aries are usually natural athletes. They have amazing endurance and can become pros faster than most.

Virgo moons usually have bad stomach problems or eating disorders. They are also always giving unsolicited advice no one asked for. They feel this need to solve everything but it can come off as kinda judgmental.

Mars in Pisces are usually victims to bullying. They usually have a hard time asserting themselves and standing up so they get pushed around a lot easier by stronger more dominant energies.

Cap moons are always in denial of their feelings

Mars Square Venus synastry can be really awkward at times in a friendship. Theres this bizarre sexual and touchy tension usually that both aren’t fully comfortable with. The mars person can come off a little too strong and can treat the Venus as if they own them. This attraction can be one sided sometimes with the mars person wanting the Venus and the Venus getting repulsed and distancing themselves. I’ve seen the mars person get jealous if the Venus would hang out with others whether it be other friends or family. And if the Venus is dating someone else this can get really heated on the mars end. Venus will feel the attraction but I notice it’s not as strong.

Venus in 5th house synastry is soooooo flirty. These are those cheesy cringey couples that are always acting like little kids around eachother. It’s actually a really sweet placement. This person will be able to bring out your inner child.

Venus in Libras are always crushing on someone. They jump into relationships I think faster than people with Venus in Aries the only difference is that they can maintain longer term partnerships & don’t bore as quick (even if their feelings are a little superficial). They just don’t know what to do with themselves when they are alone.

Scorpio risings I notice get really strong reactions out of people (like Lilith/asc people) their words make others blood boil even if they really don’t say anything offensive or rude. Most people are jealous of their authenticity which is why a lot of Scorpio risings are quiet and not as willing to open up. People just hate on them so intensely for the littlest things. They also have this ability to know if people are genuine or not which can be intrusive to certain people causing intense reactions. They can see thru everyone’s mask which can make other feel uncomfortable to be around them. This is why they usually have few friends and the friends they do have are as authentic as themselves. Literal human lie detectors

Men that have a water sun with a water moon are BIG SIMPS

Cancer sun women will be passively rude to you if they don’t like you or are jealous of you. They won’t straight say it but they will say little comments in a nice way that’s actually really rude. Then usually play victim if confronted

Everyone’s crush in high-school was either a Scorpio sun or a Libra sun/rising. Tell me I’m lying

#astro observations #astrologist #astrology #astro community #astro notes #astroblr

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restinslices · 1 year ago

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Lin Kuei Bros: Play Fighting

Smoke so dramatic-. Anyway, don’t ask why I thought of this. The voices were loud

Bi-Han

Play fighting with any of them is bold as fuck but HIM? You don't like your life

I'm not saying he's gonna straight up assault you but out of all the brothers, he has the highest chance of hitting you hard as shit on accident

He probably wouldn't even like play fighting that much. He'd prefer sparring cause at least you're working on your skills. Why you just fucking around?

You gotta catch him on the right day. Some days he's busy and some days he's just legit not in the mood.

“Imma start it off slow. Imma scope the scenery out-”

If you somehow get this man to cooperate, first of all good job. Second of all, y'all do not stop until you give up.

The type to pin you down and not let go until you admit he won. If you refuse, you're legit not moving.

This is a big guy so you're not moving him. You give up, he lets go and you manage to crack a smile out of him

We never see him smile in the game but listen bitch, I'm here for the fantasy-

If he's not in the mood, I can see him just saying “no” like you're a puppy or smth.

You'd go to swing on him again and he'd either grab your hand or give you a look that tells you he's being serious

Going back to him accidentally hitting you hard as shit, he's used to sparring with two other buff ass men. Imma guess you're not as buff as them, and some of y'all reading this ain't men. Accidents are bound to happen

You'd think the Grandmaster would have more control but I just think it slips sometimes. He's stupidly prideful and he's used to sparring so sometimes that's where his mind goes. Also once again, he probably sometimes forgets a hit Kuai Liang could handle is a hit that'll take years off your life.

I would love to say he gets on his knees and apologizes but this is the same man who betrayed his brothers and was like “why y'all tweaking?” so um…

You're gasping for air and he's “see why I always say no?”

I feel like I'm making him sound abusive but as someone who's play fought with my older siblings, they hit you hard as shit then tell you you're a bitch when a tear slips out. Why the fuck are you hitting me this hard in my chest? You got 5+ years on me-

He's an older brother. He's gonna hit hard. I swear it's in their DNA

And if he does apologize it's not really verbal. He checks to make sure your limbs are alright then offers to do something else.

“Are you gonna say you're sorry?” “For?” “For almost breaking my damn lung” “You started this”

You'd expect that the next time you wanna play fight he'd decline cause he doesn't wanna hurt you again. Wrong.

Remember he's an older brother. THE older brother. Y'all squaring up again. You don't care about your health so fuck it.

Honestly would be super fun besides the limb you're gonna lose

Kuai Liang

Would be more cooperative than Bi-Han but still isn't overly excited to play fight

Bi-Han is the “tell mom. I don't care” older brother. Kuai Liang is the “wait wait wait, I'm sorry. You can hit me back. Calm down. You want some candy?” older brother

Fully aware he could cause terrible injuries but as time passes on, he relaxes more

Definitely play fought as a kid but after Tomas started jumping everytime he heard his voice, he thought “maybe I need new hobbies”.

You’ve interrupted his recovery

He actively focuses on holding back and being soft even if you tell him not to

“Hit me harder” “No❤”

Honestly a fun time though. He holds back when it comes to strength but still tussles with you. Also let's you get hits in even when he could easily dodge them.

If he accidentally injured you frfr, he's checking up on you immediately and says y'all stopping for today.

“No, I'm ok” “Can you even breathe right now?” “Uhhh… yes😀” “We're done”

For sure feels like an asshole depending on how bad you're hurt. He's not sliding down the wall in pain but he's like “damn, that was a little too hard”.

“You can hit me back” “No. I've seen Twilight” “What?” “It's gonna hurt me more than it's gonna hurt you. I'm not doing that”. (Now I wanna write you making them watch Twilight. I'm never gonna be rid of this addiction-)

You gotta hit him back so y'all can be even. It's the only way to move on

Y'all are not doing that shit again for at least another week or so.

“We gotta scrap right here right now” “No”

Does the thing older siblings do when they put their hand on your head so when you swing at them, you're just hitting air.

It's so infuriating so you gotta stop.

The next time though, you swear you're gonna win. You will not.

Tomas Vrbada

The most willing and having the most fun

Tomas has two older brothers that probably jumped him on several occasions growing up and you're gonna try and convince me he doesn't have aggression to get out?

People would probably expect he's the softest but no. He's the youngest. As the youngest myself I can assure you, we are used to putting our all in these fights cause we gotta use all our strength to defeat these evil mfs we live with. Sometimes it's not enough-

You're not his older sibling so he's not scrapping like his life depends on it but I do think he's hitting somewhat hard

Not as hard as Bi-Han, not as soft as Kuai Liang

You feel his hits but it's not knocking the wind outta you

Super fun cause he's also using the environment. Definitely is grabbing a pillow and starts swinging it at you. Definitely is running around the couch to chase you. Definitely has thrown you but made sure to aim at something soft. He's probably even turned off the lights then threw a folded blanket at you

“Cheater” “Don't be upset you didn't think of it first”

You're fighting but laughing at the same time. There's no real tension. Just fucking around.

Probably starts initiating it too

If he does injure you fr, for a split second he'd actually see it as a victory then he'd remember you're not his older brothers and is like “oh shit-”.

Injuring those two would mean freedom (or a worse jumping. really depends), injuring you is not good.

He knows how bad those hits can hurt so he makes sure you're alright. He's not watching you as much as Kuai Liang would but he'd still make sure you're not overly sore.

He doesn't feel as bad as Kuai Liang would cause he kinda knows this shit happens. Kuai Liang kinda got a little bit of guilt cause Tomas gets into a fighting stance when he raises his hand up. Tomas hasn't victimized anyone so he's more chill about these situations 😭

Tells you random ass stories about when he used to play fight with his brothers.

“One time Bi-Han threw me in the air and Kuai Liang jumped to catch me only to throw me against the wall”

“This reminds me of when Bi-Han swept my feet from under me and Kuai Liang jumped on me”

“What is it called when someone jumps on you elbow first?”

“This one time I woke up to them standing over me. I knew it was a wrap”

“One time Bi-Han slapped the back of my neck so hard, it was red for at least a week”

“One time Kuai Liang-” “Tomas… you need a therapist” “I don't think that's what it is”

Unlike Kuai Liang who makes you wait, he's cool with scrapping days later.

Actually says “time out” when he wants a break. Also says “time in” fast as fuck though to catch you off guard

Legit the most fun brother. I don't make the rules (except I do).

I did not mean to write the least for Kuai Liang but I was really brain empty for him. Y’all should give me ideas, thanks bookie

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lorarri · 7 months ago

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★ . . . 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀 , 𝐂𝐒𝟓𝟓

summary , your brother is desperate for you to like real madrid and is willing to do whatever it takes to get there

pairing , real madrid! footballer! carlos sainz x fem! alonso! f1 driver! reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | sol’s masterlist | f1 masterlist

BIG BRO NANDO

I come bearing great news!

LIL SIS Y/N

what have you done?

BIG BRO NANDO

I got your team to get you to do some pr with

*drum roll*

REAL MADRID

LIL SIS Y/N

you're really not gonna stop until I find football midly interesting, huh?

BIG BRO NANDO

yup

you are spanish

your lack of interest in the beautiful game is scary

and who knows you might find your future husband there

LIL SIS Y/N

I doubt it but okay

HEY JUDE

okay dude are we gonna talk about the tension between you and Y/N or....?

CHILI BOY

hola jude

also I have no idea what you are talking about

HEY JUDE

dude we allll saw you basically eye fucking each other the WHOLE TIME we were filming

CHILI BOY

.....

was I that obvious?

HEY JUDE

yes.

anyway cuz I'm such a good friend

I'm going to help you shoot your shot

so I invited Y/N to tonight's game and I also invited her to the after party

so you two can talk and get to know each other

cuz the quicker the two of you do that the quick you can get the team paddock passes and you two can get married and do it couple shit

CHILI BOY

wow...

thank you for removing my free will and planning my life out for me

HEY JUDE

what are friends for mi amigo

yourinstagram and carlossainz55 . 4hrs ago

seen by fernandoalo_oficial judebellingham 87,489,583 others

fernandoalo_oficial replied to carlossainz55 story!

hurt my sister and I will kills you

and I don't care if you play for my favorite team or not

judebellingham replied to carlossainz55 story!

so.....

when's the wedding?

cuz I was thinking summer

too soon my friend

carlossainz55 replied to yourinstagram story!

hola hermosa

I think you left your earrings at my place

and I think you should come get them

I wasn't wearing earings last night tf?

if you want me come over you could have just asked

okay

can you come over

sure as long as you buy me food

anything for you princesa

yourinstagram and carlossainz55

liked by fernandoalo_oficial charles_leclerc 87,479,459 others

yourinstagram and carlossainz55 #mycalvins w/ the love of my life

view comments

user MY WIFEY AND MY HUBBY TOGETHER???? SINCE WHEN???

user rue when was this

judebellingham took you long enough mate

user why goes my gut tell me nando had something to do with this

camavinga and finally he makes a moveee

user love how we are all losing our minds and planning a wedding in the comments section

vinijr when's the wedding and what color suit should I get?

user okay but how slay is this hard launch

aurelientchm one hard launch for chili one large step for man

user love that the madrid team saw this coming from miles off

fernandoalo_oficial !hala madrid!

user nando plz now is not the time for your madrid propaganda

user oh twitter must be in shamles by now

user at this point might as well rip up my 2024 bingo card

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fernandoalo_oficial and judebellingham . 2hrs ago

seen by yourinstagram landonorris 87,368,479 others

carlossainz55 replied to judebellingham story!

I owe you one dude

just make me the best man at your wedding and then we are square

and get killed by toni?

not a chance my friend

was worth a try

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octuscle · 9 months ago

Text

From tutor to rookie of the year

Hi, my name is Jake. My company has hired me to tutor a few students with poor grades. That's not necessarily the reason why I started working at the auditing company. But first of all, I'm new here and I'm not going to refuse right at the beginning of my career. And secondly, becoming a teacher had actually been an option for me. Maybe it's fate now or something.

The first lesson gets off to a very promising start. I almost have to tear myself apart to leave your office and get to school on time. But when I arrive, there is a yawning emptiness in the classroom. Only after fifteen minutes I hear noise in the corridor and a couple of football jocks barge in the door. A few still in football gear. And all obviously unshowered after training. Phew, it stinks. And as I look into the handsome, square-cut faces of the boys spraying with testosterone, I'm suddenly back at school. The small, clever but shy boy who, at best, the stars of the football team overlook and, at worst, stuff into the toilet. I clear my throat and say that I'm not here for fun either and that I'm asking for some attention. The boys barely react. Damn it, it's not my problem. I explain a few linear algebra problems on the blackboard and ignore the paper airplanes. I have my school-leaving certificate. I have my master's degree. And my bonus doesn't depend on the grades of these idiots. At least I hope so.

After the debacle of the first tutoring session, my appetite for the second is very dampened. But it was already hard enough to get this internship. The firm is one of the most prestigious accountancy firms in the city. And if my pro bono job as an intern is tutoring the idiots on the football team twice a week, I'll survive. Apart from the 60 hours a week in which I have to pore over balance sheets, that doesn't matter any more.

These days, the musclemen are even on time. And somehow nicer than last time. They even ask me reasonably sensible questions like whether you can predict the trajectories of footballs. I take this as an opportunity to tell them something about vector calculus. They collapse with laughter. "Bro, I was joking. And football isn't math. Football is strength and speed." I'm about to take a breath and say something about Newton and the relationship between force and speed. But instead of listening to me, the jocks start bragging to each other about their heroic stories on the field. And I can't help but listen to them spellbound. When the lesson is over, I look after them with fascination. I wish I could have been more like them at school.

Shit, because I'm the only nerd on the senior team who isn't a complete failure at sports, Coach made me give math tutoring to the football team. He thinks the Meatheads might have a little bit of respect for me. Shit! Them for me? I for them might be more correct! The thought of explaining math to my secret crush forms a wet spot in my Calvin Klein shorts.

I expected the boys to keep me waiting. If they were also punctual and disciplined off the pitch, they wouldn't need any help. And I don't want to tutor them any more than they want to be tutored. We reach a compromise. You listen to my math tutoring for half an hour. And then we'll go out onto the pitch for half an hour and play a bit of football. God knows I'm not unsportsmanlike. But soccer has somehow never been my sport. I'm more of a swimming pool or gym kind of guy. Team sports? Not really.

Shit, yeah, I'm no rocket scientist in math. But I have quite good grades in English and history. I'm not going to fail this year. Why the fuck do I have to go to tutoring with the other bros from the football team? I have no idea. But seriously, the tutor is a total loser. A beanpole in a stuffy shirt. The idiot even wears a tie. Seriously, who wears a tie these days? If I had to wear a tie, I'd change jobs. Or if I had to shower after training. Shit, these are just rules that can come from old fat men. Bros like me and my bros smell like test… Testo… Well that hormone stuff. Sweat, musk and Axe. If I didn't have to go straight to detention again, I'd let the loser smell my armpits… But I'm a sophomore on the team right now. Let the juniors and seniors do that.

"Jack, bro!" This is Chuck. The QB on the team. I can tell by his voice. And by his smell. And I'd also know it by the taste of his cheesy boner…. But he stays locked in his jockstrap cage right now. What a damn shame! "Bro, where were you in tutoring? The dean was there. You're in fucking trouble!" Shit, tutoring! I was at the gym. The other guys are all so pumped. I don't want to lag behind any longer. "Shit, dude, we said you were in the bathroom. The loser tutor didn't dare contradict us. But I think you have to let him suck you off so he doesn't tell on you." Hehehehehe, I like that idea. There are still 40 minutes until football practice… And I haven't cum yet today. "Is the loser still in the classroom?" I ask. Chuck nods. I fist bump him and say that I'll sort it out quickly.

If Chuck and Matt go to college next year, I have a good chance to be the QB. But until then I still have to build up a lot of mass. Those two are just in a whole different league. And I'm damn jealous of the hair on Matt's chest. You should see the bush under his arms. Dude, the man is going to be a fucking gorilla! Shit, I'm not half the man those two are. You can tell immediately by the size of the bulge in our compression shorts. Nevertheless, neither of them mind if I fuck them. But they like fucking me even more. Without eye contact. Otherwise it would be totally homo!

We skipped tutoring again today. Coch covers for us while we're in the gym or doing our laps on the cinder track outside. Nevertheless, it's still up in the air whether Chuck and Matt will be at college next year. And whether I'll be a junior by then. But screw it, NFL pros don't need to know math.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #age reduction #jock tf #nerd to jock #football jock #ai image

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bitchlessdino · 1 year ago

Text

scream your heart out (m)

🔪pairing: fem!reader x seventeen (???) 🔪genre: horror, slasher, smut 🔪tags: DISCLAIMIER!!! MAY NOT SUIT MOST AUDIENCES, Graphic sexual and violent imagery color coded in pink, abrupt changes in text color, features/mentions members (Chan, Seungkwan, Wonwoo, Minghao, Seungcheol, Seokmin, Junhui, Soonyoung, Joshua), established relationships, scream au!seventeen, Hybristophilia, erotophonophilia, homicidophilia, graphic images, mention panic attacks, smoking, mentions disfigurement of faces, severed body parts, knives, guns, threatening phone calls, face masks (horror), knife wielding, blood, gore, death/murder, knife play, bloody handjobs, cum mixing with blood, consensual sex but nonconsensual murder, HONESTLY SOME REALLY FUCKED UP SHIT AND IM SORRY BUT YALL SHOULD BE READING THE WARNINGS, sexual innuendos, kitchen sex, daddy kink, unprotected sex, cream pies, cuck! (??) member, voyeurism, exhibitionism, breeding kink, PLS LET ME KNOW IF IM MISSING ANYTHING PLS 🔪word count: 6.8k 🔪summary: you and your friends get caught up in a classic horror slasher movie, only it's in real life. Now you're off to fend for yourselves in Seungcheol's million dollar home. The question is, did you keep them out, or did you just lock them in? 🔪author note: thank you @multi-kpop-fanfics and @wonwussy for beta reading for me <3. here's some of their notes “I’m scratching my face to not fucking scream” “WELL SHIT BRO WHAT THE FUCK” -Zeta “It definitely does capture that slasher essence” -SJ this was so fun yet mind numbing to write but this is way more extreme than anything I’ve ever written like I lost a lot of sanity writing this. FR one of the most fucked up things I’ve ever written. I hope it was worth it. ENJOY EVERYONE and even tho it came out late HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Ever since the murders over a week ago, everyone in town has been on edge. All including the individuals most closely involved.

You had lost three core members of your eight.

Joshua, someone you’ve known since grade school who was sliced open from the back before being stabbed 8 times to the point of excessive bleeding. He had just gone out to walk his dog, the poor creature being the only reason they found his body at all. If not for the dog’s bloody paws, and the trail of blood they left behind finding help, Joshua’s cadaver would’ve lost deep in the woods.

And then Chan, your long-time boyfriend, was stabbed fifteen times in the chest. His face was so disfigured from obvious violence and what looked to be burn scars, that he was practically unrecognizable if not for the fact he died in his own home. Police are still looking for his severed arms and legs to this day with no luck.

And finally, Seungkwan, who hadn’t died but lost to the paranoia festering in his blood like a disease. That caused him to take the train to the furthest destination possible to attempt to escape death if at all possible, leaving the rest of you with only the reassuring texts he left in his wake.

All that was left was you, Seokmin, Seungcheol, Minghao, and Wonwoo; the core five.

“Okay, absolutely no one is leaving this house for the time being. Until the psycho is caught behind bars, dead, or whatever the fuck! We’re safe here.”

Seungcheol, the eldest, did just as expected: contacted the rest of you into a personal prison. Luckily, he was loaded. The prison happened to be six thousand square feet of space with countless rooms, amenities, and a housekeeper to boot. From the looks of it, it’s paradise, but it’s definitely a prison.

“Holy shit, you have an indoor basketball court?”

A prison with an indoor basketball court. And a pool apparently.

Seokmin wasted no time to enjoy these features, breaking out of his clothes and cannonballing in his underwear. If you knew any better, Seokmin didn’t even look like he went through any trauma at all. It looked like every other day for him.

“There's a murderer and you’re doing butterfly strokes?” You asked, baffled.

The golden man scoffed, reaching the edge of the pool and resting against it with his forearms. “What am I gonna do? Wallow, crying to my mom, worrying about dying, and not taking advantage of this gorgeous mansion we’re staying in?”

“Thank you, Seokmin,” Seungcheol grinned.

Seokmin winked back at him, “Of course, daddy.”

“How are you both so unserious about all this?”

Wonwoo left a kind hand against your shoulder, looking back at you with warm eyes and a small smile. “They’re grieving. Just in their own way.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “They’re being ridiculous. We shouldn’t be here. We need to be at the police station or something.”

“You were there when I got the call. The creepy voice said no police or you all die. Remember?”

You shuddered, hands over your sides to relieve your chilled skin. “Of course I do, but we’re sitting ducks here. This isn’t any better. We need protection.”

It was Seungcheol’s turn to scoff then. He strutted in front of you, flaunting his wing span before flexing his arms and then crossing them over his chest. “Well, you have me.”

“And me,” Seokmin joined. “Pure muscle right here.”

“Maybe pure laughing gas, not sure about muscle. We’re actually living in a horror movie right now and you’re all making jokes.”

“Hey,” Wonwoo stroked your head as his soothingly deep voice serenaded you, “Don’t say that. We’ll make it out of here.”

His arms come around you, forearms pressed against your collarbones, and his chin crooked over your shoulder. “You have me too. I would run through that knife before it could get to you.”

You genuinely smile for the first time being there, your hand stroking over his embrace. Wonwoo delicately kissed the temple of your forehead, reminding you what it was like to be constantly adored.

You were grateful for what he had become in your life. Wonwoo had kept you company in your time of need. In the absence of Chan. He had come to your house with whatever he thought you might need, lent you his shoulder that you could cry on, lent his ears so that he could listen, lent his body that you could heal. In more ways than one.

“You’re right. You are.” You turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his body and meeting his eyes framed in specs of hard plastic. “You’re the first person I can sacrifice if we face them head to head.”

He mused at you. “Ooh, now look who’s pulling jokes.”

“Who said I was joking?”

“You two are disgustingly cute,” Minghao commented coming through the back door. “Horror movie rules: they get killed while having sex.”

You punched the new face right in the arm, watching him scurry away to your other friends laughing.

“Not funny, Hao.”

Minghao sneers at you, a jester smile still on his face. “Ease up, princess. Wonwoo, watch your girl.”

“Only because she’s so pretty to look at,” he briefly grinned down at you before directing his attention to Minghao sternly, “but come on. We’re all a little psyched right now. Cool it with the murder talk. Alright?”

Wonwoo pulled you aside into the dining area, ignoring the careless laughter outside. His thumb stroked against your knuckles, lips pressing sweetly against your cheeks. His grin sunk deeper in his cheeks the further he made it past your jaw and then down your neck. He felt your throat vibrate against his lips. “Wonwoo…”

“I can’t have all these guys get you heated like this. That’s my job,” he teased with a rasp.

You slightly pushed him off, your arms swung over his shoulders. “You’re so ridiculous right now.”

“Anything to put that smile on your face.”

His lips reconnected with your neck, nipping at your skin. His humming sent tingles down your spine, and he took your body to press you against the side of the counter. Your hands grasped his baggy shirt, lip close to his ear, fanning your breath against his face. You smiled like a girl in love. Obsessed. “Daddy…”

“I love it when you call me that,” he mumbled, just as love-struck, if not more. Your giggles brought out the pink on Wonwoo’s ears and cheeks while tightening the groin of his pants. You noticed immediately, cupping it in your palm, and running your finger along the seam. Your eyes skimmed over his taken expression, leaning your full weight into him. “I know there’s something else you really love.”

“Do you now?”

You nodded, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “But do you really want to do it here? Risk getting caught?”

He leaned into your touch, allowing your fingers to take apart his pants. “Try new things right? Like you always say. Plus you’re scared. Gonna turn that fear into pleasure. Make you feel good, just what my baby deserves.”

“You're so good to me, Daddy,” you moaned.

His hand finds the hem of your shorts, pulling them down to expose yourself to the cold air. He fingered through your panties and slid two digits through your folds. He felt your breath hitch as he squeezed your clit, eliciting your soft whines. “You’re so wet down there, baby.”

“Just waiting for daddy to fuck me where anyone can find us and watch.”

Wonwoo eagerly pulled down his pants, kicking them and yours aside, but not without pocketing your underwear. He lifted you up slightly from the ground, his exposed cock hitting at your hip. “Look what you do to me.”

Your throat went dry at the sight of him, hand aching to wrap your hand around his girth and have him shoved inside you.

He didn’t let you wait a second long, and pushed in slowly inch by inch, burying himself in your pussy until he was nearly balls deep. You grasped his shoulder in a gasp, savoring the fire burning in your stomach. The girth of his cock stretched your molten walls, allowing them to melt all around his cock as he spread your legs. You writhe in his embrace, your limbs closing around his lean and toned build, already blissful from the few seconds of him being inside you.

Wonwoo’s words kissed your lips, flushed your skin, and left a permanent smile on your face. It swelled pride in his chest, better than any physical trophy would have. His hips slowly rolled against yours, letting you adjust to his size. He massaged the flesh of your side through his fingers, mentally reassuring himself you were his and his alone, but his names on your lips became more than proof.

Your hips buckled towards him in heat, matching his pace before the carnal side of him decided to fuck you like an animal. His cock then plunged sharply inside you, and then again, a whimper coming out of your lips. Your hips stuttered the harder he pounded, arching your back, you felt his hand above your ass, pushing you against him.

“Daddy…”

He lost control when it came to you, addicted—religious—the second your body came in contact with his. He loved how your fingers ran through his hair, not caring how his glasses fell off his face in the process. With drool out of the corner of his lips, he could feel the blood rush up to the surface of your skin, making him feel warm at home inside you. Throbbing, he only got harder feeling how perfectly snug you were, pricking his clammy skin with goosebumps as he bottomed out.

“You’re sopping, precious,” he murmured with a sly grin.

He had you begging, flustered, and beautiful. Your hand clasped his face as your other arm looped around his neck, swallowing his lips, anxious and thirsty for his breath. You craved every part of him viscerally. “Cum in me, daddy. Please…”

He scoffed, lips ghosting over yours. “Will you take every bit of daddy’s cum, hmm? Hold my cum inside you.”

You nodded gingerly. “Yes, yes. I promise, daddy. Give it to me please, I want you to spill your cum inside me and make me yours…”

“Hold on to me.”

You obliged, met with the hot stream of his climax, yours quick to follow. He embraced your sides, devouring your lips and muffling your whines. His loads pumped into you in erratic thrusts, fucking his cum back into you and making sure you drained him of every ounce. His fingers dug into your flesh, feeling you just come apart for him, undoing the tension that festered earlier.

But that tension was needed. It was necessary to survive. Everyone let themselves forget the current predicament, basking in the glow of the sunset until dinner time arrived. Despite the housekeeper that supposedly exists, she hadn’t been around since all of you stepped foot in the house, like a ghost presence. Seungcheol scrambled to find her—reminding you of his peculiar obsession with the woman—as he wondered when dinner would be ready since a rise in temperature or a savory scent couldn’t be found in the kitchen.

“That’s strange. She’d be finished with a whole chicken by now,” the homeowner commented, noticeably picking his nails.

“Aww,” Seokmin groaned, “Well, is there anything else to eat?”

“I mean…you can look around.”

You narrowed your eyes at him in disbelief. “This is your house. You don’t know what you have in your own house?”

“You try navigating a five-story home with countless cabinets!”

“Buy a smaller house, you prick!”

“Guys!” Minghao chimed in. “Breathe in…and out. We’ll just find food. Seungcheol, your maid, your house, your search. She’s probably fine.”

Your hands slammed against those pristine marble counters. “We are NOT splitting up right now. This is what the killer wants. She’s probably already dead and we’re fucked.”

Wonwoo came to your side, laying a cool calm over your shoulder, and rubbed your sides. You let yourself melt in his touch, his sweet voice soothing you effectively.

Seokmin sat up from his stool, “Okay, okay. I will help Seungcheol and you guys stick together.”

“That’s still splitting up!”

“Better than alone.” Seungcheol rebutted. “You guys stay.”

Despite your protests, they went on their search. Your head banged against Wonwoo’s chest, muttering in anguish about how everything was going wrong and that it’d only get worse. Meanwhile, Minghao seemed to regain some of that tension but masked the fear with the bright light of his phone, scrolling through TikTok. You didn’t know what was more annoying, sensation of imminent death possibly behind any door, or the same five songs replaying on Minghao’s feed.

After 15 minutes when they were nowhere to be seen, your patience had run thin. You picked yourself up from Wonwoo’s lap and dusted yourself off. “Fuck this. We’re finding them.”

You felt his hand on your shoulder, a concerned glow in his gaze. “Babe, hey. They’ve got it. Trust them.”

“Wonwoo, you know I can’t do that. Let’s just find them, hmm? Together?”

“Not a bad idea,” Minghao agreed. “Better in groups right? We go together, eliminate us as any potential suspects.”

Your boyfriend sighed, collected your hand, and laced his fingers through yours. “Fine.”

You were all joined together by the hip, making sure you were each other's sights. Through the wider than wingspan hallways, past the ridiculously expensive sculptures, you kept your eyes out for your estranged friends. Silence couldn’t have been more loud in these cavernous spaces, only hearing the gut feelings in your stomachs that’s churned in trepidation. Every step taken was the group closing in on the killer.

Fortitude meant nothing if the danger was already inside.

Before turning around the corner, Minghao—reluctant to lead the group—crashed into a human-sized obstacle, causing the stumble of your entire party. You all faced a wide-eyed Seungcheol with the missing young housekeeper walking hand in hand with him. Suspicious, but besides the point.

“Holy shit, we said we’d come back!”

“It’s been 20 minutes, Cheol! You guys could’ve been dead for all we know.” You retorted.

“Wait, where’s Seokmin?” Wonwoo asked, noticing he didn’t see him nearby.

“He went ahead. He needed to piss or something and meet up later.”

“You idiot.” Your eyes burned a frustrated rage. “I said don't split up. DON’T SPLIT UP! That’s the number one rule of horror movies. You’re going get us fucking killed. He could be the murderer for all we know.”

Seungcheol scoffed, shaking his head. “Seokmin? No way. He’s the last person to even think to do that.”

“Well, do you see him? No! Probably he’s off someone being Ghostface reject with his stupid little voice modulator and cheap party city costume.”

“I told you—“ Before he could finish, his phone went off in the nick of time. When he pulled it out to saw Seokmin’s caller ID on display and the owner of the device wouldn’t help but smile. “See the bastard is even calling.”

He picked up and put him on speaker, eyeing you cheekily, amped to prove you wrong. “Seok, you little shit. How long does it take to piss, huh? Just say you wanted to take a dump.”

“Oh yeah, I took the shittiest, stinkiest, fattest dump. You could probably smell all the way from the other end of the hall.”

Instead of Seokmin on the other line, all of you were met with the eerie voice that had called you multiple times before. The voice that felt like spiders crawling up your legs. The voice that had you second guess whether you locked the front and the back door. The voice whose owner had killed countless people already.

Seungcheol held the phone in a vice grip swallowing, fear stilling in his unsteady eyes. “You—Where the fuck is Seokmin, you son of a bitch?”

The morphed voice on the other end laughed, sounding bone chilling as nails against a blackboard. “What’s to say? Why don’t we play a little game to find out?”

“Mother fu—“You grabbed the phone from Seungcheol to answer in his place, cutting the older man off. “Why go through with this?”

“Why, I just want to help you find your beloved friend. All out of the kindness of my heart.”

“If it was all kindness, you could tell us where he is.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Psycho,” Minghao muttered under his breath, eyes wide in shock and fear, as if registering the idea of death for the first time.

“And if we refuse?” Wonwoo interjected.

“Seokmin dies, rock for brains,” Seungcheol gritted.

“Ding, ding, ding. Or should I say, chop, chop, chop, since that’s what'll happen if you get any of my questions wrong.”

You scoffed, coming down the stairs with your friends to follow. “Have at it then, you freak.”

“Hey, hey, play nice. Maybe I’ll get too excited and decide to cut him up early.”

Seungcheol glared at you briefly before taking back the phone, storming down the stairs, and reaching the ground floor. “Ask away, as long as Seokmin is safe.”

“First an easy one. What’s your favorite scary movie, Seungcheol?”

His feet stopped at the end of the couch in his living room, stammering to answer. “What kind of fucking question—uh, The Ring?”

“Don’t lie to your friends, Seungcheol. You know that’s not the answer, that’s just what you say to anyone that asks. Say the real answer.”

“That’s the movie though!” he started to shout, visibly shaking.

“Just say it, Cheol!” Minghao pushed.

“Stop playing around Choi Seungcheol! Just say it,” You joined.

“Fine!” He faced the friends, evidently swallowing his pride as he choked up on his answer. “I never watched a goddamn scary movie! Is that what you want to hear? I get panic attacks every time I hear one in the background, why do you I’m always going off smoking when you guys put one on,” he confessed through his tears.

“Congratulations. Your first right answer. Now was that so hard? Pussy boy?”

“Fuck you,” Seungcheol sputtered, tossing the phone back to you.

“Next question. ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,’ Leatherface is known for wearing a mask when it was in fact several. How many and what were they in the original movie?”

“Who the fuck would know an answer like that?” Minghao croaked in disbelief.

“Three. A ‘Killing Mask’, an ‘Old Lady Mask’ and a ‘Pretty Woman Mask.’” Wonwoo calmly answers, garnering horrified looks all around. “I wanted to be a filmmaker, remember?”

“Correct. Next question. What Was Freddy Krueger's serial killer nickname before he died?”

“It’s on the tip of my tongue,” you said slightly panicked, “Wonwoo?”

“The Springwood slasher.”

“Wow, Another amazingly correct answer. Hold on to that one, Y/n. He’s a keeper. He’s smart and fucks your brains out to the point of you screaming bloody murder? What a catch.”

You didn’t respond, impatience seething on the tip of your tongue, “Just tell us where this is all going.”

“Patience, sweetheart. Last question. What exact kind of knife does Ghostface use in the Stab movies? Here’s a hint: it’s the same one I’m holding in my hand against Seokmin’s throat. (Help me please...)”

“S-Seok.” Seungcheol gasped.

Seokmin’s voice could barely be heard on the other end, weak and afraid, only staggering breaths audible.

“Wonwoo, please,” Seungcheol begged, tears falling past his neck. “He’s our best friend.”

Wonwoo swallowed, gears visibly creaking in his head, “I know he uses a hunting knife, b-but—“

“Oh…” the voice cooed, “Well, that’s just not enough, is it? Seokminnie, say goodbye to your friends (Please, no…).”

“Seokmin!”

“Wait!” You barged, clutching the phone to the point of it almost bending. “A modified Buck 120. I remember now. It’s coming back to me. Now, let Seokmin go!”

The line went dead and in turn, light cast in the evening darkness of the poolside. All your eyes shot back at the change of light, startled at the sight in front of them. Seokmin was seated in a chair, bruises against his sides, bleeding from the splices on his forearms, and duct tape over his mouth. Yet the most frightening part was his closed eyes.

“Seokmin!”

You all rushed towards him, swinging the porch door in a panic. Seungcheol tried slapping him awake, pleading he’d be alive. “Seokmin please, please, wake up…

The poor victim's eyes start to flicker open, mumbling through the adhesive over his lips.

“Buddy,” Seungcheol ripped the duct tape clean off him, his ear coming up to his friend’s lips. “Speak to me…”

Seokmin’s voice came out in croaks, hardly incoherently, all except, “Be…hind…”

Minghao spat up blood, doubled over as Ghostface was revealed right behind him, and fell right into the pool. You and the housekeeper both let out a blood-curdling scream. The masked intruder wiped off the blood using his black rope, anticipating a lunge towards their next victim.

“Run,” Wonwoo breathed out.

He took your hand and ran with it. Taking a second to look back, you see Seungcheol and the housekeeper try to escape similarly before she was tugged right back towards the killer and she was stabbed right in front of him five times, each one faster than the last, having the poor Seungcheol paralyzed and fallen on his knees. The sounds of suffering were loud enough to hear throughout the neighborhood.

Wonwoo dragged you back upstairs, his survival instinct telling him to seek haven high and far up the house.

“You left them there to die,” You proclaimed.

“He said he could manage it. You’re more important.”

“You actually believe that? Ghostface snuck up on Minghao with neither of us looking!”

“We’re going to have to. Secungcheol can handle himself.”

Finally, he finds the room, closing the door behind him and pushing heavy furniture in front of it for more time to stall. “We’ll be ok for a little bit here. Let’s look for weapons.”

He started rummaging through drawers, looking for anything strap, blunt, heavy, anything worth using. He was red in the face, sweat drenching his entire body. The only thing running through his mind was keeping you, the most important person in his life, safe.

“Wonwoo, I don’t know if we’re going to find anything. Fuck. I’m so scared right now.”

He recognized the panic in your eyes, the bounce in your step, and the quiver in your voice. “Hey, hey, baby. Look at me.” He grasped your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

“I’m here, hmm.” He kissed your closed eyes. “You’re alright.”

Then your tempered cheeks. “We’ll get through this.”

The tip of your nose. “I love you like hell.”

Finally your trembling lips. “I’ll keep you alive.”

“Promise?” You managed to breathe out.

“Scouts honor.”

The banging resonated from outside the locked door, only getting louder and closer every passing second as if teasing you to death. You shook in Wonwoo’s embrace, burying your face in his chest. “I don’t want to die here, baby.”

“You won’t. Not with me.” One arm wrapped around your body, and another had his fingers locked around the base of a lamp, tugging it from the outlet. Pitch darkness joined you, only having to rely on the dim-lit sky through the peek of the windows.

Whomever on the other side cracked through the wood of the door, breaking it piece by piece as it fell to the ground, knocking over the dresser that blocked

“Shit, shit, shit.” Wonwoo pushed you behind him.

Finally, your barrier came down with a final kick, rendering it useless. Wonwoo let out a battle cry, charging at them with the lamp above his head. He swung his weapon while Ghostface swung theirs, both missing simultaneously. Gritting his teeth, Wonwoo pulled forward, aiming for the head.

They crash against the wall in the process, but not without mutilating the midsection of Wonwoo’s stomach. The visually impaired man fell back to the ground, groaning in agony as he clutched his stomach, while blood trickled through his fingers. “Mother fucker...”

Wonwoo’s vision started to fight against him with the loss of his glasses, dimming images before him, and slowly processing the murderous figure trodding before him. Wonwoo’s determination picked him right back up slowly, picking up his lamp once again, trying to take another move toward the perpetrator. And by pure luck, the lamp crashed against the crown of their head.

Ghostface stumbled back, quick to recover but visibly agitated. Soon enough, they plunged the full length of the knife right into Wonwoo’s gut, sticking it deep and long before kicking him off of it. Wonwoo lands on the hardwood, blood gushing out of him like a public water fountain. “Fuck, fuck!”

“Wonwoo!” You come by his side, clutching at his wound desperately. “No, no, no.”

The sinister figure approached once more, hand creeping against the edge before he pulled it over and off his head. His eyes stared back at you both maniacally. His grin stretched from both ends freakishly before overtaking in deep chuckles. “Happy to see me?”

“…C-Chan?” Wonwoo managed to gasp.

“Hi, bestie.” His signature smile, once warm and inviting, reflected horrifyingly as if out of a film, one with too much bloodshed and betrayal to imagine. “Well, didn’t think you’d see me again, huh?”

“Chan, what the fuck?” You screeched.

“You’re supposed to be dead.” Wonwoo voiced panic-stricken. “What, how?”

One foot over the other, Chan carried himself with conviction, ease, and the confidence of a man who slaughtered countless amounts of people.

“You guys don't know how easy it is to fake my death. I was surprised by how incredibly stupid police officers are. Find a body that’s my height, my build, cut off their hands and arms to not get their fingerprints, singe their skin and face to the point of unrecognition, and plant them in your own home. I’m a fucking genius.”

“S-Seungkwan,” Wonwoo wept, his adam’s apple, “You actually—”

“It was beautiful. Masterful.”

“Why?” Wonwoo stammered. “Your best friend—“

“He was an imbecile. Weak. All bark and no bite. You will never understand how good it felt to stick the knife inside him and watch the blood burst off of him like a sprinkler. Like the knife going in and out of him surged power throughout my entire body. So, I kept doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. And doing it. AND DOING IT.”

His smile. That violating smile.

You sobbed, covering Wonwoo’s wound with your hands. “Y-you monster.”

“This was all just fun for you?” Wonwoo bared his teeth. “You get your kicks from lying, deceiving, stabbing your friends? You think you’re some Billy Loomis?”

“Of course I have fun. I had lots of fun. We had so much fucking fun.”

“We?” Wonwoo repeated.

“What the fuck do you mean we?” You asked horrified.

Chan started to chuckle to himself, chest heaving exuberantly before he stood completely still. Dreadfully still.

“Well, I'm not the one that killed Joshua, am I?”

A million guesses ran through Wonwoo’s brain. None made sense the more he thought about it. “Your Stu Macher? Seokmin…Seungcheol…?”

Your eyes turned to him fearful, before it melted into something else, something familiar. Something terrifying. “No…” your lips drew close to his ear. “Me…”

Your hands squeezed around his wound, gripping, earning his moans of anguish, screaming at you to stop, before you retrieved the knife hidden behind your boot and drove it into his shoulder. Wonwoo let out the loudest scream he could ever muster, feeling the blade sharply cut his nerve whilst pain shot into his chest. He tapped his heel incessantly on the ground, tears streaming from his eyes, looking at you in disbelief, overcome with hurt.

“And he was a good fuck too until the knife I put through his back made him scream like a little bitch.”

You pulled out the knife from him, seeing how the pain he felt in his body only complimented the suffering pooling in his heart, his mind, his soul. His lips quivered in your direction, sucking in his breath. “Y/n…Why?”

You simply shrugged. “Why does anyone kill these days? They’re bored, daddy. Same reason why things can change in the bedroom, to spice things up. The flavor of life is murder now, darling.”

“You’re killing people.”

You drove the knife one more time into his thigh, savoring his scream of agony. “And we’re more alive than we ever have been,” you said, twisting the knife before pulling it out.

You walked toward Chan, helping him pull off his robe. “And so is our sex life.”

“So, Junhui, Soonyoung…Joshua, and even Seungkwan.” Wonwoo asked, catching his breath.

“Every. single. one,” You chuckled. “Draining their cum out of like having a second puberty until life is literally drained out of their bodies. What a bunch of pussy boys. So obsessed with sex, they didn’t see the knife coming their way.”

Your hand reached for the ottoman and pushed Chan there to be seated, underdressed in the black tank top and black jeans he hid underneath with his momentarily abandoned bloody knife at his side. You unbuckled his pants single-handedly, your knife still in your other hand. “And Chan just gets so fucking hard with all the bloodshed. Like a bloodthirsty animal.”

“You just look so fucking sexy with blood on your hands,” Chan moaned, “Touch me how I like it, baby.”

“Mmh, my pleasure.” Your hand used the blood covering it as a morbid form of lube, closing around the girth of his cock to squeeze and lightly stroking it from base to tip, softly thumbing over the small slit on top.

His stomach flexed, bucking his hips in your direction as he bit down on his bottom lip, beaming like a child on Christmas. Horny for your touch, Chan couldn’t help but squirm in his seat, warning up to your touch. He was absolutely growing at a rapid pace. “Like that baby, like that.”

“That feel good, daddy? You like how the blood is covering your entire cock? Seokmin’s blood, Minghao’s blood, Seungcheol’s blood? Wonwoo’s blood?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

“You two,” Wonwoo’s shock couldn’t stagger from the scene in front of him, unable to process all this information at once.

“You’re massaging our friends into my cock so good, baby.”

“Yeah?” You traced your fingers over the details of his shaft, your nails prodding at the veins as your hand slowly picked up pace. You rolled him in your fist, letting him rut in your defiled hand as he moaned your name like an animal in heat. “I’m getting so wet watching fuck in my hand covered in blood. You’re just a sick lunatic obsessed with killing your friends and fucking my sweet pussy. I love that about you, Daddy.”

“Fuck,” he screamed, hands gripping the ottoman in restraint, brimming with passion, “Wanna mix Wonwoo’s cum you kept inside you with the blood. Sit that sweet pussy on my cock for me, lover.”

You nodded invitingly, not missing a beat. You never did replace the underwear from before, making it easy to remove your shorts and sliding him inside your warm walls, massaging his length as you rolled your hips against his. You held the knife you still had in a death grip, stabling against the reliability of Chan’s shoulders. You mumble his name pleased, arching your back as you grinded down on his lap. “Your cock feels so good covered in blood, daddy.”

“Your pussy feels even better knowing how much fun you had stabbing Wonwoo for me.”

“Of course, daddy.” You turned to the body mutilated and defenseless on the ground, grinning as Wonwoo was forced to watch. “That look good, Daddy Wonwoo?” Your ass bounced purposely in Chan’s lap, the jiggle showing off the splatter of blood left from the handjob.

Everything in Wonwoo told him to look away but he couldn’t, like a train wreck or a car crash, he couldn’t part with the mess of a situation he was witnessing. He wasn't sure what this meant for him, mentally nor physically.

“You like watching Chan fuck me, Daddy? His bloody dirty cock fucking me like you did a hour ago, fucking me like a nasty little whore.”

He hissed through his teeth, right the strange feeling surging in his pain-stricken body, “Shut…the fuck up.”

You laughed obnoxiously. “You love it. You love being a little cuck, watching other guys fuck my pussy. As if you hadn’t peeped on me and Chan fucking when he wasn’t ‘dead’.”

“It’s not true, you bitch.” The twitch in his trousers told him otherwise.

“You’re such a liar a dirty, dirty liar like I’m a dirty, dirty fucking whore.” You groaned loudly taking Chan’s cock, bouncing against his lap as you felt him pulse around your walls.

“That’s right baby take my cock.” Chan’s hand came over your bare cheeks, striking them with his full palms while his hips jerked up your body. “Taking the murder fueled, hard fucking cock.”

“Daddy, your cock is making me so fucking wet, stretching my pussy the way you sliced open our friends,” You growled.

“Fuck you’re such a little succubus, baby. Bouncing on my cock, coating yourself in blood. And I’ll kill more and more for you. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Yeah,” You began slowing your pace, drinking in his every word. “You’d do anything for me?”

“I’d kill the entire human population for you.”

That left you smiling from ear to ear, the tension coiling in your stomach. Your chest pressed against his, pushing against his thrusts. “Yeah? Would you cum in me, Daddy? Mix our dirty mess inside me. Let me take your cum, daddy.”

“I’ll let you drain me of every drop, my little psychopath.”

“Cum daddy cum, make me full and breed me with our homicidal baby daddy. Make you a real daddy.”

Chan shuddered, overwhelmed with immense arousal. His hips found life of their own, hammering into you at top speed, and watching the pleasure morph on your face and the staccato rhythm of your breath leave your lips, all while the load threatened to burst out of his sack. “I’m cumming, baby, all for you, ah—“ then it exploded inside you. His cum launched out of his cock like a hose, he painted your wall in milky white, turning pink as it seeped out of you.

“I’m so close, daddy…”

Chan threw his head back to catch his breath, hands possessively finding purchases on your hips. “That’s it, baby. cum for daddy.”

“I’m cuming daddy, I’m—“ You gripped your knife, taking Chan’s abandoned one before plunging both in his head. His smile dropped, a small and weak, “baby” leaving his sweet lips before spitting up blood on your chest and he fell limp.

You didn’t stop, however, given the fact that your orgasm had just arrived the mere second Chan tasted metal in his mouth. Your moans could’ve been mistaken for anguish if not for the smile on your savage face. “I’m cumming all over your cock, Daddy, fuck! You’re so good to me, you do so much for me. I love you so much. Hitting my spot even in death.”

The wave of climax finally started to fade, unlike your smile, wretched and demonic. “Thank you for your sacrifice, Daddy. I’ll miss you so much.” You kissed deceased Chan’s lips, coming down from him, and fixing his pants before fixing his pants before pulling your shorts back on your body.

“Y/n…what the fuck?”

Watching you pull the knives out of Chan’s head, Wonwoo's expression was a mix of confusion and horror, struggling to back away as you approached him calmly, almost serenely.

“Chan has served his purpose,” You answered plainly as if obvious. “It was his time.”

“You did that, all that, with him, and you MURDER HIM? Your partner in sick, sick psychotic crime?”

“I told you spice was necessary, plus I’ve grown rather fond of you.” You bent down to his level, eyes noticeably just a deep pit of disparity. “I couldn’t let him kill you, so I beat him to it. Good thing too, because that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

Wonwoo whimpered under your touch—well, the knife’s touch—as the tip of it dragged over his jaw, drawing out a shudder. “Y-you’re letting me live?”

Your smile. That damned smile. You and Chan were mere reflections of each other. How had he not seen this sick image sooner?

“As long as it's with me, because you love me right? That’s what you said. You’ll always love me and keep me alive. You promised.”

You pressed the blade against his neck, “You’re cold-blooded. Fucking your dead friend’s girlfriend, leaving your other friends to die to save me, and taking on a mass murderer just for me.” Your other hand caressed over his face. “That’s hard fucking core, baby. I love that so much. You really love and want me. Well, I want you just as bad.”

“Like you wanted Chan?”

You scoffed, using the knife to point at the abandoned soulless body on the ground. “Chan was disposable. He was already fucked up in the brain. I can nurture you, let you prove you’re that you’re mine and only mine. Then I’d have no reason to kill you. Not at all…say you’ll be with me forever.”

“…yes, sweetie. O-of course I will.”

You sighed a breath of relief, your harmless hand coming over to stroke over the stray hairs on his head. “That’s my daddy. My one and only. We can be the finals. Together. Only us—”

“Hello! Wonwoo! Y/n!” Miraculously, Seungcheol found their way to you, barely alive it sounds like.

Rage filled your eyes. “Holy fuck how is he still alive,” you mumbled under your breath. “I’ll take care of him.”

You held the knife to your side, standing by the door and away from its open view. “Cheol! In here! We caught the killer!”

Seungcheol managed to find the defaced door, peeking through the rubble to see a disheveled Wonwoo, panting and close to death. “Wonwoo!”

“Cheol…” Wonwoo grunted.

“Hang in there, buddy. I’ve got you.”

“To…your…right.”

You glared at Wonwoo, betrayal in your eyes before launching yourself at the hero, who hardly had a scratch on their body. Seungcheol, taking his friend's warning in consideration, built up a wall of defense. His eyes caught you just in time and held up your arms, pinning you against a wall. His eyes finally registered on your face, and his grip on you only tightened. “Y/n, you evil little bitch.”

You chuckled tauntingly, struggling against his weight and strength. “Hi, Cheol. I know you always wanted to stick something in me, mind letting me do it first?”

“You—wow, you’re actually mentally deranged.”

“You don’t like that? Maybe my knife through your skull can change your mind.”

He kicked you in the groin, having you plummet to your knees, cusses streaming out of you like a river. “You pussy. Ass. Bitch.”

“Seungcheol,” Wonwoo groaned, painfully cheering him on.

You managed to kick Seungcheol down in your distress, crawling on top of him to gain leverage. “I know you liked to be topped.”

You held the knife, hands wrapped tightly around the handle before striking. Meanwhile, Seungcheol’s hands were wrapped around your wrists, the tip of the knife tickling his nose. Sweat beaded against his forehead, struggling harder than he thought he would as you smiled still.

“This would be a lot sexier if you let me run my knife inside you, baby.”

“Fuck you and your demented punk ass,” he grunted.

“I would if you’d just FUCKING DIE!”

A gunshot follows soon after and the blood gushed from your neck, pouring from both ends and falling lifelessly against Seungcheol, who let out a shrill scream.

“I found a gun,” Seokmin proclaimed weakly from the door before fainting to the ground.

Seungcheol rolled your body off of him, sick to his stomach. “Sick crazy bitch.”

He looked towards his friend who remained helpless his entire journey before his eyes got caught on the dead body he only realized now. “Is that…”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo whispered.

“And they…”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, dude.”

Seungcheol went around to pick up Seokmin from the ground, grabbing the gun. Meanwhile, Wonwoo’s eyes lingered over your body, in disbelief it was alive a mere second ago, then he saw something strange, causing his eyes to fly open. “Cheol behind you!”

Another gunshot. Right between your eyes and your body that stood for hardly a second longer than it should’ve—of course with the knife still in your hand—fell right back on the ground.

“They always come back,” Wonwoo quoted.

Seungcheol let out a deep exhale, loosening his grip around the gun. “And aim for the head.”

“Sorry about your house.”

“…sorry about your girlfriend.”

“Me too.”

post reading a/n: always like me to insert chan into anything fr. i have no excuses

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @smileysuh (felt fucked up not to tag you bc you’re fucked it just like me 💕)

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 months ago

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you should watch alien stage 😁 it’s a really wholesome and heartwarming web series on YouTube by VIVINOS. Nothing bad happens! And I think that you would like it!

So before I checked out Alien Stage, I asked an irl about it to get a feel for the series. They jokingly described Alien Stage to me as "Hunger Games with doomed yuri and yaoi plus some toxic het on the side", and after catching up with the playlist of hits... yeah, that's pretty accurate. I'm so invested in this now 🤡

I have Ruler of My Heart stuck in my head, specifically this English cover of it! To probably no one's surprise, I'm really gravitating to Luka... WHAT CAN I SAY, I LOVE ANGELIC LOOKING CHARACTERS WITH PRINCELY AND CHARISMATIC PERSONAS THAT ARE ACTUALLY SO MANIPULATIVE AND SCUMMY. AFSLFAYOEFIYFAEEAF; AND HOW CAN I NOT ADORE A GUY THAT PULLS THSI KINDA FACE:

I think part of his charm is that contrast between how he's seen as a "prince" by his fans when he's anything but. The artists outdid themselves with the MV; it perfectly conveys how truly terrible Luka is. I was so uncomfortable watching the video play out. The way he progressively creeps closer and keeps invading Mizi's personal space, taunting her, imitating her dead bestie/crush, putting his hands all over her, AND THAT GROSS WHISTLE HE DOES IN THE BEGINNING???? That made my skin CRAWL. Luka is for real so awful and I love that for him-- MIZI WAS RIGHT TO SWING AT HIM, IT WAS CATHARTIC 💀

I wanna give big props to Mizi's facial expressions too... They're so despair-filled and delicious, even when it's just her widened eyes repeating on the screen. The animation specifically for the line "I don't believe you're a liar" is top tier 👌 It's nothing fancy, but it conveys just how distressed Mizi is and how that's impacting her ability to sing. The way she gulps is so punchy and visceral. THE HATE IN MIZI'S EYES AS SHE'S RESTRAINED FROM COMING AT HIM AGAIN???? Good stuff. The twist at the end where the stage gets smoke bombed (?) and Mizi is rescued by the rebellion was great too. It robs Luka of the satisfaction of seeing his rival gunned down and him being declared as the victor. (P.S. I thought Hyuna was Jamil when I first saw her design; this is proof that Jamil has cool onee-san energy/j) Super looking forward to seeing Luka square off against Till, who is another favorite of mine. The eyebags— Till the End is probably my second favorite song so far; it's so intense in the close-up shots of Till singing his heart out to the audience. (Poor Mob-kun though, bro's getting DESTROYED out here...) I admire Till's fighting spirit but at the same time I feel so bad every time he's subdued 💦 Whereas I want Luka to get knocked down a peg, I want Till to find happiness and safety...

qweliboqeuvqied Anyway, that's my current brain rot 😊

#notes from the writing raven #alien stage #alnst #twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Jamil Viper #alien stage till #alien stage mizi #alien stage luka

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partycatty · 1 year ago

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are you open to doing hcs or a fic with johnny (mk11 or mk1 variant idc lmao) and reader with dacryphilia? i just know the sex is so good he can make a mf cry. 😭😭

stares at this anon with incredibly wide eyes

mk11 & mk1 johnny cage > dacryphilia

warnings: nsfw, overstim, johnny being a dickhead, author struggles to write dominant johnny bc they know deep down he's a pathetic little bitch boy

notes: oh my god i am . i am so excited. i love this so much i've been holding onto this for .... days . ilysm i'm writing for ALL THREE. lh ymg OGLDJRKSKWJD

masterlist <3

♡

dilf >

• by FAR the most dominant of the three. he's been around. he knows how to please a woman and he'll make that abundantly obvious when you're reaching your fifth orgasm of the night and he's still pumping into you.

• while he's the most dominant, he's a soft dom! he absolutely worships his love like a goddess and will put her pleasure before his. but he's gonna have his fun while he does!

• johnny loves to please you with every inch of his body. facesitting, fingerfucking, thigh riding, cockwarming, humping his boot, eating you out, he will get you all fucked out one way or another. there's a lot of ground to cover on his huge body, and he devotes every square inch to your pleasure.

• he'll mix his praises in with degrading when he's really into it. he blabbers on and on and he gets closer, the degrading taking over when he's about to cum.

• johnny, on really good days, won't be done fucking you until your mascara drips down your cheeks. he's mastered the art of lasting during sex, so he will be hard for quite some time. and even if he goes soft, he'll just stop and eat you out until the erection returns.

• "such a pretty girl... my needy whore... oh fuck, baby, you're killin' me here..." he loves to just say things into your skin. he'll bite your shoulder or bury his face in your folds and still have something to say. a ball gag wouldn't even stop this man from yappin'.

• "just one more, love, i know you can do it for me," he groans into your ear as he plows his fingers into you again. by now, they're nearly pruned from how much he's been fingerfucking you. his other hand is wrapped around your waist while you sit on his lap. when you reach the next orgasm, he gently caresses your thighs. "there we go, good girl. that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

• when you reach the point of mentally breaking, tears prick at your eyes and fall down your cheeks and you pathetically squirm in his grasp. you don't even know how many times you've came, but this man has somehow found a way to make it happen so many times all you can do is sob.

• in his younger days, that wouldn't even be close to implying a finish line for his torture. but now, with age, he knows better. he sees you cry and stops being as rough. he knows it'd just stop feeling good and start hurting or go entirely numb. johnny would still squeeze in one more orgasm though, just for good measure. just to prove that he can.

• aftercare KING. you just lay there like a little soggy sock and this handsome devil will wipe you clean and pepper kisses across your body, telling you how well you did for him.

• "sorry to make you cry, sugar, i just couldn't help it. you looked too damn pretty," he'll mumble into your neck. "every time you cum for me, i just wanna watch it again and again..."

• your coworkers keep asking if you're okay the following morning from how puffy your eyes are and how sore you claim to be from... training.

♡

younger >

let me just say first that it is so unbelievably funny that he is looking at himself on imdb in that gif

• he's so mean. SO MEAN!

• degrader to the max. bro is the definition of a cruel and unusual punishment.

• and yeah the jacket stays on during sex.

• "you like being a filthy whore for a movie star? you gonna take it like a good slut? yeah you are," he'll yap and yap while he downright uses your body. he doesn't rub your clit to make you feel good, he rubs it so you spasm around his dick more. he wants to feel how much you crave his cock, his touch. it's all about him, baby!

• more than anything, he just loves to fuck you in every position imaginable. he wants to be buried in whoever fell victim to his charms, dammit!

• mirrors. send tweet.

• no fr, this guy loves having mirrors in every place he could picture himself having sex in. he'll pull your hair and force you to look at your reflection.

• "no, no, no, baby, don't look at you. look at me. look who's fucking you nice 'n good," he wraps his hand on the front of your neck to make you watch him rail you.

• at this point, his dick is painted with your orgasmic fluids and he's still not done. you're so fucked out you can't even think straight. your body has gone entirely limb and you're just in a hazy bliss. you've finished so many times your entire body is trembling and jerking around, and your cute moans and whines have just turned into gasps but the skin on skin slapping is incessant.

• "you gonna cry?" he asks menacingly, holding your face with one hand. "yeah you are. good fuckin' dick, isn't it?"

• you lazily nod as the gasps turn into sobs. you're just so full of pleasure and pain that you don't know what emotion to feel anymore.

• "pathetic girl, can't handle this much boom?" he chuckles breathlessly, approaching his own high. "just stay like that, baby, i'm close. tell me how bad you need me."

• that doesn't even sound possible in your current state. he may be talking, but all you hear is distant sounds as tears streak down your face.

♡

new era >

• this johnny is like a mix of the former two, but with his own little quirks! i believe this man is a switch through and through with a heavy preference for submission. but, yknow, that being said, sometimes a man just needs to fuck his girl's brains out and watch the tears flow!

• he's a man that's desperate for reassurance and this carries through during sex. he's not insecure, he just loves inflating his own ego.

• "you like that? you like how i fuck you?" he asks with deep whines in between. "tell me how much you love this, baby, please — aah —"

• he'll wipe your tears but secretly pray they keep flowing. it gets him off so good to see how much he affects you.

• also, ngl, i feel like he loves to be overstimulated too. a long ass day of shooting, he comes home and literally wants to get edged and overwhelmed for hours just to release all that pent up energy. he's a crier too <3

• 🚨 🚨 IPAD BABY 🚨 🚨

• he looooves to record you guys have sex, and if he even hears the slightest sniffle from you, the phone shoots to his hand like telekinesis. he's gotta capture every time he fucks you crazy, it's his favorite little memento to hold onto.

• "you look so pretty when you cry," he purrs out, stroking your hair as you choke on his dick. "could never get tired of this sight." he'll play with your hair but also use your throat as his own personal fleshlight. angle or debil.

• if anything, he loves to ruin pretty things. he'll feel accomplished when your lipstick is a mere memory, your clothes are missing buttons and your mascara is now painted down your cheeks. his favorite part of sex is cleaning you up, and his second favorite is ruining you to begin with.

• johnny would honestly love to keep going after you start crying, but he literally can't. he cums the second you're overstimulated because the sight alone gets him there so damn fast. as soon as the waterworks pool in your eyes, he's already getting sloppy with his thrusts and his groans turn into whines.

• he'll kiss your eyelids after sex, the heat of his body providing comfort after the rounds upon rounds of ruthless orgasms. he'd probably also lick your cheek to rid of the tears because it's funny.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage mk11 #mk11 #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat smut

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atxxokirina · 1 year ago

Text

Unspoken Words PT. 2 — (18+ MDNI)

Neteyam x Mute fem Metkayina reader

part one here

contains: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, dom Neteyam, p in v, degrading, tummy buldge, oral (f receiving), creampie, very slight aftercare

author's note! (italic is used to symbolize when you, Neteyam, or anyone else are using sign language)

Your eyes flutter open, the bright sun shining through your Marui waking you. You look your your right, seeing Neteyam's body sprawled out on the cot, your head rested on his arm as it was wrapped around you. Carefully, you lift his arm over you, placing it back down softly to ensure that he stays sleeping. You stood up and stretched your limbs, quietly yawning as you keep your eye on Neteyam laying on his back, mouth wide open as he snores.

Since it's early, you figure you might as well get something to eat while you still can. Grabbing your gear, you throw it around your shoulder and give your mate a tiny kiss on the cheek before leaving. "See you soon, my love."

You make your way to the water, stepping in knee deep as you scope out for fish, readying your catching net just in case. As you continued to carefully examine the clear water, your eye catches something. A fully blue fish with with multicolored fins, floral flushed orange and yellow. You throw out the net, scooping it up and holding it to your face as you studied it's properties.

It was an interesting shape to say the least, large pincher's at it's mouth, while it kept an oval-like shape. Sloapek. You don't see these around too often, but you're happy to have caught it for you and your mate.

As you were traveling back to the common square, you hear a faint calling of your name. "Y/n!" Your ears twitch back, looking around, but you still didn't see anyone. That was, until you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around in an instant, you're met with Tsireya who's beaming at you."Tsireya, hello! It's nice to see you." You sign, smiling wide as your tail stills in content.

"It is nice to see you too, y/n! You are never out this early, is everything alright?" She asks, concern written all over her face. You nod. "I am fine. I just wanted to get something for Neteyam and I, see?" You hold up the net and her face drops in awe. "Sloapek!? Oh, I'm so jealous! I never see them anymore!" You held back a giggle as she spoke, nodding with a pleased look on your face. "You must have worked hard for this, I'm proud of you!" You awkwardly smile, knowing that it took you less then 2 minutes. "I should get back to Neteyam. He's might be missing me right about now."

"Oh, mhm! See you later, y/n!" You wave before going back to your Marui. As you approach the entrance, you get a glimpse of Lo'ak inside, he's sitting on your cot while Neteyam stands. As you were about to step in, you hear one of them speak.

"So, does she really not talk?" Lo'ak asked Neteyam.

"I mean, no. Not really.. She speaks with her hands."

"Shit, man. That's so weird.. how do you guys fuck?" You winced at his words, feeling shameful for yourself. "I don't know how you do it bro." He chucked.

"Don't say that." Neteyam defends. "..and we don't fuck, honestly. I don't know how to tell her and, plus, I don't wanna hurt her." He playfully scoffed, folding his arms. In all honesty, you wanted to expirience such things with him, but you never had the courage to ask. Your relationship consisted of pristine love, and though you have been together for a few months, neither of you made a move.

Not wanting to hear any more, you finally walk in. Greeting Lo'ak with a small head bow as you set down your net. Giving your mate with a short, but passionite kiss. "Y/n, hey baby." He pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arm around your waist. "Hey y/n." Lo'ak mumbled. "I'm gonna get going but, it was nice to see you- y/n. And, talk to you later bro." Before leaving, he pulls his brother into a breif handshake. "Tell her." He whispers in Neteyam's ear, gone right after.

Neteyam's body flushes with anxiousness, rubbing his hands together. You took the rest of your gear off, wrapping your coiled curls into a low ponytail and bending down to reach for the fish that sat in the net. "Wait, before you do that-" Neteyam starts. You freeze in your position, turning your head to look at him and holding your palm out. "What is it?" His mouth opens and closes before speaking. "Y/n, are you.. a virgin? Like, have you ever had sex before?" A lump formed in your throat as you gulp. You weren't quite sure what to say, you didn't really want to answer him. "No." You avoid eye contact, looking down as you go back to your standing position. "I have not."

Neteyam seemed taken aback by your response, his lips quivered for a moment. "Do you, want to?" He blurts out

You instantly shot him a look, the breath you had being sweeper from your lungs. A part of you wanted to. So badly.. but the other part was petrified of how it might turn out. Would it hurt you? Would you hurt him? What if you do something wrong? He holds your chin with his two fingers, turning your head to him as he stares down at you.

"I'll make it easy for you.. we can even go slow, how about that?" His melodic tone filled your ears, practically making you melt before him. You blink a few times, feeling like your heart was going to shoot out of your chest. He was patient with your response, letting you take your time before making this important decision. Hesitantly, you nod. He smiles and kisses your forehead. "Great," he starts. "You'll feel so good, I promise, okay?" Neteyam kisses you again. "Okay" Even though it was sign, he could tell that you were still scared. He reassures you by pulling you into a hug, you buried your head in his chest.

The scent he gave off never failed to chill your nerves. "I love you, y/n. I would never do anything to hurt you, okay?" He softly pulls back by your shoulders, facing down. You held a hand up, closing your middle finger, but keeping your pink, index, and thumb up. "I love you too."

"I have to get to my training session, but I will be back at eclipse." He ruffles your hair, earning a warm smile from you as he rushed out of the Marui.

Several hours have passed. It's almost eclipse and you can't stop your anxiety from building. You pace around the room, trying to take deep breaths and focus on anything else, but it was damn near impossible. You sit down as your mind raced, nervously fiddling with your hands. Closing your eyes, you inhale through your nose and exhale with your mouth. After a few huffs, your rushing heart starts to slow down. You lay back now, sighing and looking at your ceiling. And just as you started to relax, "Hey baby.." You ears perked at the deep voice your hear. Sitting up on your elbows, you try to smile, Neteyam sets his gear down, slowly walking toward your small frame. There's a certain look in his eye, it's dark, and it scares you.

He climbs onto the cot, hovering over you. "Are you ready for me?" He says lowly, and you can almost feel his arousal. You nod twice, slight fear in your expression. Neteyam brings his head down to your chest, tugging at your top with his teeth, causing you to shudder. "Don't be scared," He licks a stripe and your breath hitches. "It's just me." Right after saying that, he tears your top with his fangs, your pupils dilate in shock. He was an entirely different person.

He snakes his hand up to your hard nipples, squeezing your right bud as he spit on your left one, toungue circling your areola. You close your eyes, soft pleasure begins to overcome you. You've never had the urge to make a sound until now, you don't want to, but it's almost impossible to control. "H-hmh.." You mewl. Neteyam notices and his ear twitches, you felt his grin as he continues to suckle on your tits. He now brought his hand down to your loincloth, rubbing your cunt through the fabric as he grazes the formed wet spot. "Already so wet, hm? Such a good girl." He hums, words vibrating your sensitive nipples. Expertly, he unties his own, throwing it off. He comes up from your breasts, and you're met with his large, dark blue cock. Purple veins protruding as it twitches for more. It almost looks.. painful?

Your eyes were wide. "You can touch it, it's okay baby." He reassures. You slowly reach out to his member with your index finger, the second you touch the tip, it twitches again. You quietly gasp, he chuckled at your reaction. "That's how it reacts, pretty. Don't worry." He cupped your cheek, kissing your lips with desire. "Take this off for me", he tugs at the waistband of your loincloth. You comply, lifting your hips to untie it, trying to ignore your shakey hands.

Neteyam shimmy's your cloth down, bringing his head to your wet and glistening heat with a deep inhale. He slides his finger up your folds. "Mm.. so fucking wet baby, I think you're ready for me, wouldn't you say so?" He teases, scissoring you open with his digits as he makes out with your clit. Pleasure overwhelms you, hips subconsciously bucking up to him as you held back your noises, but he could fainty hear you. "Yeah? You speak now, hm?" Your eyes squeeze shut as his pace quickens, now shoving his two fingers inside of you and pumping them with a fast pace. "Uh huh.." You quietly whimper, he feels more than accomplished at the dirty sounds you make. "That's fucking right baby", he curls his digits, massaging your spongey walls, earning a gasped "Nghh!" from you. "Juust like that." He pulled his fingers out, sucking them clean with a pop.

Neteyam pulls your hips toward him, fisting his cock a couple times before aligning it with your entrance. He notices the twang of worry in your face. "You'll love this baby, I'll make you scream my fucking name." He promised. It made you quite nervous, but nonetheless, you nod at him and close your eyes. Without warning, his fat cock is forcing it's way inside of you, inch by inch, knocking the wind from your lungs.

Your eyes flew open, mouth agape at the feeling. He grunts, enjoying the way your delicious pussy is wrapped around him. "Mhmm, yeah.." Neteyam moaned while grinding his hips into you. "Am I making you feel good? Huh?" He growls. You can't sign, and you can't respond in any way. He uses this to his advantage, pulling out and plunging himself back into you, a loud and long moan escapes from your mouth, he smirks as he pumps his cock upward, hitting your sweet spot. Every. Time.

You squeeze your eyes shut, quietly cursing and whining under your breath. "Fuck! Oh fuck, Neteyam.." You repeat with a quiet breath, followed up by another moan, unknowingly making such lewd noises. "You can do better than that." He groans, fucking you faster as the sounds of your bodies coming together filled the room. "Hmmmh, so good! Sosososo g-ood.." You whimper, no longer caring about whether or not you speak, you just need him. More than you ever have before.

You wrappes your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. "More. I need you." You mewl. "Beg." He demanded, slowly fucking up into you. "P-please.. Nete.. yam." You moaned, "I want you, I want you! S-so fucking bad!" You cry out, breath shaky. "That's what I wanna hear." He huffs, pace increasing gradually. Your pussy clenches around him, exuding wet squelching noises. You whine, begging for something, but you don't know what.

He fucking loves the way you've let go. The intimacy and tension is building between the two of you. He scoffs at how you're still trying to supress your moans, as if you weren't just begging him to fuck you harder a minute ago. "Cmon, let me hear you." He thrusts harder, looking down at your tummy to see his cock poking out with each thust me makes. "Don't try to be all quiet now, you're not so innocent as I thought, huh? You're still a slut. A nasty slut who just needed to be fucked like this, aren't you?" You whine, moans coming out even when you try to stop.

He grabs your hand, placing it on your stomach. "Look at it", he grunts, holding your hand on the reappearing buldge. You watch the way his cock made contact with your tummy, pressing down on it at every chance you get. You felt so incredibly full, each pump in your pussy leaving you breathless. "Mmm.." Neteyam moans through gritted teeth. "Yeah. Keep your hand right there, don't you dare fucking move it." You whimper in response, tears forming in your eyes from the pleasure.

An unfamiliar feeling forms around your core. Your muscles tighten as you feel light. "Uhh! Nete- Neteyam.. I feel weird", You whine, pleading for him to stop whatever he was doing to make your body react this way. "Shh, shh, shh, baby, it's f-fine." His hips staggered inside of you. You truthfully felt like you had to pee. This can't be right. The feeling grew stronger, you can't control your body in it's essance anymore. You need something, some kind of relief. It's building up and it won't stop. "Ngghhh, more! Fuck! Harder, faster!" You moaned, fucking yourself up again him. He picks you up, holding your ass and making you straddle him as his hips slammed back into you. Making you scream and cry in pleasure as you meet his thrusts.

"Almost. Almost, almost, almost", you repeat like a mantra. "Me too baby. Fffuckk, I'm almost there. Gonna paint your insides, give you my seed." Neteyam gracefully moans, it was music to your ears. Suddenly, your pussy clenches around him. Way tighter than before. You gasp and wince. "Ah! Neteyammm!!" You moan your mates name, squeezing your arms around him. Just in time, he stops his movements all together, bursting his warm load inside of you with a low sigh, followed by another small thrust. You felt a heat form in your womb, pure bliss as he filled you up.

Your body goes limp, falling back down on the cot and curling up into yourself. Feeling worn out, like all of your energy had been drained from you. Out of breath, Neteyam lays beside you, gently running his hands across your curves. "You okay baby? You're not hurt or anything?" He checks. You answer with a quiet hum. He turns your face to him, pecking your lips as he briefly glanced down at your cunt, looking at his cum slightly pouring out.

He sighs in content. "Come, let's go get you cleaned up." He stands from the cot and slips his loincloth back on, then bending down to pick you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he secures you "I'm tired, Teyam.." You mumble quietly. "It's alright, I'll take care of you. Just rest." He reassures, tone soothing and low as he brings you to a secluded cave to clean you up.

#avatar #atwow #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #ff #avatar fanfiction #neteyam x reader #neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam smut #neteyam x yn #neteyam x mute trope #neteyam x mute gf

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foreverisntenough · 13 days ago

Text

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend. You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy?

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Disclaimer: Still the same.

Chapter 17 - 'Rarely Wrong’ | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 12 k

The tension in the room was heavy before Trent even stepped inside Jack’s house, well it was your house too but he knew Jack was home and you were out and that was exactly why he was coming over. Coming over with the hopes of settling things between him and his best friend. Although, Trent didn’t even get the chance to speak before Jack had squared up to him in the foyer of the house, his shoulders taut with rage.

“You’ve got some fucking balls showing up here,” Jack growled, his fists clenched. Trent raised his hands in a peaceful surrender.

“Jack, mate, come on, I just want to talk—” Trent kept his tone as even and calm as he could.

“Talk? Nah, lad. Let’s settle this right now.” Jack stepped closer, his chest puffed out. “Or you gonna be a pussy about it? Hide again?” Jack quipped. Trent tried not to laugh, even though the situation was anything but funny. It was just that Jack was not the fighting type, and neither was Trent—although somehow, fights seemed to be following him lately, especially when it came to you.

“I’m not fighting you, bro,” Trent said firmly but with a cheeky smile he couldn’t bite back. Jack scoffed, annoyed by Trent’s smirk seeing it as arrogance not innocence.

“Why? Too scared?” Jack taunted and then Trent’s jaw tightened, his faint smile completely vanished into tight lips more pissed off that Jack was trying to actually start something here, but he held his ground. He came to stop this, not start something else.

“No, because she won’t want me and you like this. And I don’t want us like this.” Trent emphasized. “Seriously, you think she’d be okay with us throwing punches over her? You know her better than that. She doesn’t want this.” Jack froze for a moment, his expression wavering, but the anger still burned in his eyes.

“So you’ve talked to her then?” Jack asked albeit snippy but also genuinely curious and mildly concerned. He hadn’t seen you for days. You hadn’t responded to texts and yes, while now a little too late, you had turned off sharing your location with him. He assumed you were with Layla but had also been blocking out the idea you might’ve been with Trent. Although right now seeing Trent again, hearing him talk about you, it was glaringly obvious you had seen him. “What? She hiding out at yours now?” Jack bit.

“Jack! Stop mate. I’m tired of taking your shit over this. It’s bullshit you’re being a dick to me and to Y/N. You’ve called her shit that’s way out of line and me things too but I’m coming to talk to you. Stop judging and just let me fucking talk to you.” Trent yelled, gesturing towards him. Frustration boiling over.

“Why’d you have to lie, bro! Why did you sneak around with her if you guys are so 'in love?'” Jack quipped in a mocking tone.

“Because you're acting like this!!! Bro, it’s serious with her. Just let me fucking explain. Jack, just listen to me.” Trent pleaded fluctuating between impatience and desperation.

“Fine, talk bro! But honestly, the more I deep it, the more I’m thinking I can’t let this go, mate. It’s fucked up. Sneaking around with her? You were supposed to be my best friend, and you… you crossed the line.” Jack tone settled mildly and he stepped back a little dropping the idea of a physical altercation.

“I crossed a line because I love her, not to hurt you. I am your best friend but the things you keep saying about me have me questioning things Jack.” Trent stepped closer, not to fight, but to keep him in range where he could see the sincerity and hurt in his own eyes.

“Mate, you are my best friend. I’m sorry I said shit that wasn’t 100% true the other night. I was angry. But I’ve also seen you with girls before and I don’t want Y/N treated that way. I’m not having Y/N coming home crying because you decide to ghost her like the rest,” Jack said, his tone sharp.

“This, Jack! This is why we hid it from you.” Trent yelled. Jack puffed out air running his hands over his face trying to compose himself. His head was spinning, he was so hurt, he couldn’t see straight. But his silence only aggravated Trent. .“Wow… Alright, so that’s what you think of your best mate?… Like what am I to you or who do you think I am if you wouldn’t trust me with Y/N?” Trent asked harshly, frustratedly. His past wasn’t squeaky clean but he’d never been anything but good to you. He was tired of Jack talking about him like this awful guy. He took a deep breath in an effort to salvage a lifelong friendship. “Jack, I know. I know it’s fucked up, and I tried not to… for years.” His tone was softer but insistent. “I swear to you, mate, this wasn’t part of some big plan. I didn’t go after her. She didn’t come after me. It just… happened.” Trent tried to explain earnestly.

“That’s not enough of a reason though, Trent.” Jack interjected, his voice cracking. “She’s all I’ve got left, man. I fucking told you this! Our mum’s gone. My dad fucking left us. She’s the only thing holding it all together for me. I got you and I got her and now… you’ve made it so I have neither.” Jack’s words started flaring with temper but they faded into sheer sadness and hurt, tears were building in his eyes. It was childish to claim you like a toy, to place blame, but his emotions made him feel like a little kid again. And so the two boys who’d shared their whole lives together, shared everything including you, now shared hurt, stood facing one another laying it all out in the open finally, raw and vulnerable.

“Jack…you always have me bro. You and me are so close, you’re like my third brother, mate. But you can’t pretend like you didn’t know there was something there all these years. And I’m sorry there is. But it’s there and it’s what I want and she wants too. Please. I’m coming to you to ask. I will do what you want here. I will, but you have to just please… have a think about this because neither she or I want to be apart... but neither she or I want to have you this angry with us.” Trent said heartbreakingly honestly, his voice trembling with desperation.

“Us?” Jack snapped quickly hearing Trent lump you two together officially as a pair. Tent sighed before he began his next monologue.

“I love her, Jack. I’d never hurt her, and I’d do anything to protect her—even if it meant letting her go but you’ll be breaking my heart and hers if that’s what you want us to do. But if that’s what it takes for you to forgive her, I’ll do it for her. She’s miserable without you, she loves you, and I know she won’t move forward with me unless you’re okay with it.” Trent pleaded. Jack stared at him, his chest heaving with the weight of his emotions.

“You’re like my brother Trent and that’s why I just…. I can’t. What if I can’t be okay with it?” he asked, his voice quieter but still laced with bitterness and hurt. Jack knew he sounded childish but he just felt so betrayed.

“Then you’re both stuck. And she deserves better than that. You both do. Y/N needs you bro, so if that means her and I not seeing each other for her to get you back, for me to get you back as a friend… fine but you just gotta know it will destroy me, but I’d do it if it kept you and her all good.” Trent replied, starting to feel his own emotions rise. He felt sick laying out the possibility of giving you up. “But please, mate. She’s not just someone I care about. She’s it for me. I don’t want to lose her, but I also don’t want her losing you. Just… give me a chance to prove this can work.” Jack ran a hand down his face, his body sagging as the anger began to wane. He looked at Trent, his eyes glossy. Trent puffed out some air heavy with nerves as he tried to find the right words. “I understand this is your sister,” Trent began again, his voice steady but full of urgency. “But you’ve been my best friend my entire life. You know me, Jack. When I’ve been in proper relationships, I’ve never once cheated. Never. You can’t fault me for being the guy I am when I’m single.” Jack’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt, so Trent pressed on. “Fine,” he admitted, exhaling sharply, “maybe you’re right. I’ve told girls I loved them when I didn’t mean it. But this is different. I swear, since—” He paused, choosing his words carefully. He was walking a fine line. “I know you’ll hate to hear this, but since the first time I kissed her, I’ve never even looked at another girl. Not once.” Trent leaned forward, his voice lowering, as if confessing something sacred. Then Trent uncontrollably quietly let out a small bashful laugh to himself. “Honestly, even before all this, I’ve never looked at anyone the way I look at her. It’s been slow, Jack, and it’s been hard, but I’ve never been so head over heels in love with someone like I am with Y/N. She’s it for me, man. I know it. And you know it too. You know we click. Everyone has always known.” Jack made an unintentional face of disgust, shifting uncomfortably in his stance. He ran a hand over his face again, clearly grappling with his emotions. Of course, he’d known, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. He wasn’t stupid. He’d seen it in the way Trent watched you, the way he always lit up around you. And you, god, it was the most blatant crush on planet earth but Jack belittled your feelings for his best mate; brushing them off because he couldn’t stomach it ever being mutual. The retrospective thoughts came flying in; how could he have let you run around the back garden in little bikinis with all his friend’s over every summer. Of course, Trent lit up, all the other boy’s did too. He felt stupid. He hated that he’d let it get this far. But he also knew this was not trivial, not anymore. Not some cheeky comment passing by each other in the kitchen late at night, not some childhood crush, no. You were in love with Trent. Trent was in love with you. And who was Jack to deny you of love? He couldn’t but he was your big brother and so if someone did love you, it would at least come with a threat.

“She’s been through so much already, Trent. She can’t handle losing another person in her life.” Jack spoke hesitantly. Trent nodded, listening closer than ever because he hadn’t heard a ‘no’ yet. “If you hurt her…” Jack picked up his gaze and looked at Trent sternly.

“I won’t,” Trent interjected, his voice firm, almost desperate. Jack stared at him, his expression softening slightly. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.

“She’s not losing me,” Jack said, his voice quieter now. Trent’s heart rate picked up… this felt like the decisive moment, “and I guess she doesn’t have to lose you either.” The begrudging but earnest acceptance in Jack’s tone was enough to make Trent’s shoulders relax. He nodded, swallowing hard.

“Thank you, mate,” he said earnestly. “I’m really sorry it happened this way, bro. But I promise I won’t let you—or her—down.” Trent tried to reassure him. Jack shook his head, leaning back against the wall.

“You better not. If you mess this up…” Jack muttered accepting that he was giving Trent a go ahead.

“I won’t,” Trent promised, his voice resolute. “You have my word.” Jack let out a long, shaky breath before nodding slightly again. He felt like they had physically fought, he was drained but as he looked at Trent, the hurt dwindled, and relief started to rise. He was relieved that if there was anyone to look after you, he was glad it was his best friend making that promise. A promise he hoped he could keep.

“I’m not thrilled about you lot lying to me still…” Jack reiterated just to be clear.

“Course. And I’m sorry.” Trent jumped eagerly.

“But for her sake…” His voice broke coming to terms with it all. “For her sake and for my best mate… “ Jack’s eyes flicked to Trent’s with a glimmer of love for him and for you. “Give it go. She’d never forgive me if I stopped you.” Jack smirked. Relief washed over Trent’s face as he stepped forward and pulled Jack into a brotherly hug.

“Thank you, bro. I probably wouldn’t forgive you either.” Trent teased, probably too soon. A cheeky laugh slipping out.

“Fuck off.” Jack chuckled, shoving him away with a shake of the head. But then Jack moved to clap him on the back. He still wasn’t sure if he could stomach when the time came and he actually had to see you two together, but deep down, he knew Trent wouldn’t be going anywhere. And maybe, just maybe, that was okay because after all he was his best friend.

You’d been avoiding Jack like the plague, dodging his calls and texts, unable to face him after everything. You hadn’t even gone home, opting instead to camp out at Layla’s. She didn’t say much about it—she just let you take over her couch, her wine, and her ear whenever you felt like talking. But mostly, you didn’t talk. You stewed, overthinking everything, torn between guilt and longing. And then there was Trent. He hadn’t pushed you, even though he wanted to. He gave you the space you didn’t want but desperately needed, keeping his distance even as it visibly ate at him. He didn’t bombard you with messages or call relentlessly, no matter how much it must have pained him. Instead, he took matters into his own hands. You had no idea that Trent went to talk to Jack. Your phone had been off as you holed up in Layla’s apartment, sinking deeper into your own head. Every scenario ran through your mind. It was starting to feel like you had to pick a side, and the weight of it was unbearable.

After your night with Trent, your heart was even more torn. You didn’t want to let him go. You couldn’t. But you didn’t know how to face Jack, either. You were paralyzed by the thought of it. If you saw Jack first, maybe the guilt would crush you, forcing you to give Trent up. The idea was excruciating. So you stayed at Layla’s, hiding from the world, hoping somehow it would all resolve itself before you had to make a choice. Little did you know, Trent had already decided that he wasn’t going to let you choose. Not between them, at least. He’d gone to Jack, laying it all out, begging for the chance to prove himself worthy of you.

You were standing in Layla’s kitchen while she was still at work when Jack appeared in the doorway, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his posture uneasy. His expression was hard to read—equal parts guilt, anger, and regret. You pretended not to notice him, focusing instead on your cup of tea. It had been days since you’d spoken, days you spent avoiding him. The silence between you had grown so heavy it felt impossible to break.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked, his voice tentative but louder than you’d expected. “I figured you must be here but Y/N, god, I was worried. A text would’ve been nice.” He quipped but with some normalcy in his voice that confused you. You stiffened, still not meeting his gaze.

“Why would you care about a slut?” you spat, the bitterness in your voice catching you both off guard. He had calmed after speaking with Trent but now it felt like the wound reopened.

“I don’t think you’re a slut,” Jack replied quickly, and surely, his tone sharp but layered with an unmistakable note of regret.

“Wow, thanks,” you said, glancing at him with narrowed eyes before turning away again.

“Nah, come on. We need to talk. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean those things, and you know it,” he said, stepping into the kitchen. His voice was firm, but his shoulders sagged under the weight of the conversation.

“Didn’t mean it?” you snapped, spinning to face him fully. “You said I was slutting myself out. That Trent didn’t love me. You said it, Jack. And you meant it.” You bit back frustrated and hurt. Jack winced, the pain in your voice cutting deep. He let out a shaky breath and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I was angry. I shouldn’t have responded that way and I shouldn’t have called you those things, alright?” He replied. You stared at him, your chest tight, your throat burning with unshed tears.

“But you did and it hurt Jack. You think I’ve ruined everything, that I’ve ruined you and me, and him and you…all because I… because I love him?” Your voice cracked, and you cursed yourself for showing just how much his words had hurt. But then you caught your breath trying to refocus and get your thoughts out. “But you’re also the one ruining things because you’re being petty about this. What about him and I? Have you even thought about us” You whimpered. Emotions crashing back over you. You’d been asking that same question to yourself for days. What about you and Trent? “I know we shouldn’t have hidden it but you’re the one who is driving me away from you. And now my heart hurts so bad Jack because you’ve driven me away from him. I love you but I also love him. I need you both but you can’t say I’m the one ruining everything.” Jack’s frown deepened, his lips pressing into a thin line. He moved closer, closing the space between you. Jack’s heart ached. He never wanted to hurt you, he’d spent his whole life trying to protect you from hurt and now to hear you say that he was the one causing it was horrible. He needed to let go of his pride.

“It’s not about ruining anything Y/N. It’s just—” He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to deal with this. I don’t know how to deal with you and him.”

“Why?” you demanded, your voice trembling. ��Why is it so hard for you to understand that I didn’t plan this, especially not to hurt you? That I didn’t mean for any of this to happen? It wasn’t about you.” You snapped a little harsher.

“But it became that way because you lied!.” Jack burst out, throwing his hands in the air. The conversation swung back with a more tense momentum. “He’s my best mate! He’s been around my entire life, and you… you’re you. You’re my sister.” The room swinging further away from sadness and straight into aggression and then back again. “You’re the only thing I’ve got left, With dad off wherever the fuck his latest job is and mum gone… Y/N, I’m so sorry I hurt you. I never want that.” His voice cracked as his emotions bubbled to the surface. The anger seconds ago dissipating. Jack couldn’t hide behind anger anymore, he was hurt. “And then it felt like I could possibly lose both of you.” He whimpered. You never saw Jack like this. Rarely did he let emotions out especially vulnerable ones, one’s that made him weak but here he was looking more like a hurt little boy than ever before. Tears pricked your eyes, and you couldn’t hold them back any longer.

“You’re not losing me, Jack. The only reason you’d lose anyone is if you really genuinely are against this,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But it feels like you’re trying to force me into making me choose, and I can’t. I won’t.” Jack’s expression softened, the anger fading as he saw the pain etched across your face.

“I’m not asking you to choose,” he said quietly, his tone almost broken. “I’m just trying to figure out how to deal with this. It’s like… like I knew you liked him but the lies… you’d never lied to me, he’d never lied to me and this hurt.” He continued. You let out a shaky breath, wiping at your tears.

“Do you think this was easy for me or even for him? Do you think I wanted to fall for him, knowing how much it would hurt us? I’ve spent my whole life putting you first, Jack. And I appreciate what you’ve done for me but the way you talked to me the other day was unfair because I’m not ‘slutting myself out’ for Trent, I’m in love with him. This… this thing with him just happened. But it was meant to happen for ages. I’m sorry I lied, that we lied… but I won’t apologize for loving him.” Jack flinched at your confession but didn’t look away. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the words hanging in the air between you.

“I’m scared,” he finally admitted, his voice raw. “I’m scared he’ll hurt you. I’m scared you’ll end up heartbroken, and I won’t know how to fix it.” He told you earnestly. Tears streamed freely down your face as you stepped closer.

“Jack, I’m scared too,” you said. “But I think he loves me and I love him. And I need you to trust that, even if it’s hard.” Jack studied you, his jaw tightening as he fought against his own emotions. Finally, he let out a long sigh, nodding slowly. For the first time in days, the tension between you eased, leaving room for something fragile but hopeful to take its place.

“He does love you.” He confirmed. “But you’ve known that,” Jack admitted with a regretful huff, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his confession.

“Yeah?” you asked, your tone more sincere than anything else. “Why do you say that?” you asked, there was a tinge of tease but not yet, it wasn’t the time. Jack groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I don’t really want to talk about it. It makes me a little sick to think about.” He winced, visibly cringing at the idea of imaging you and Trent together.

“Jack…” you pressed, your voice soft but insistent. Jack let out a defeated sigh, shaking his head.

“Well, he was actually mad at me. Pissed, even, so that’s new. He came to me begging for you.” He looked at you sheepishly, clearly uncomfortable with the topic but determined to still talk.

“Wait, wait, wait…. You’ve talked to him? He came begging!? And you’re just bringing this up now? You’ve talked to him?” You yelped anxiously, excitedly, inquisitively. “Jack, what the fuck! What did he say!?” You pleaded for information.

“Yes, I spoke with him and yes, he loves you.” Jack disgruntledly got out while you internally screamed. “But can we just get through my apology piece?” He asked calmly so you nodded, gesturing with your hand for him to keep going. “Because I’m sorry Y/N. I really am. You are none of the things I said. Not one of them. And Trenty doesn’t actually treat girls the way I was saying, you know. And I know he’s never treated you the way I said.” You blinked, his words and the switch catching you off guard.

“I mean… he never treated me that way and I knew that,” you admitted, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “But I’m not stupid, Jack. Before me, you guys weren’t exactly a friend group of saints.” You pulled out a chair at Layla’s kitchen table and patted the surface of it, trying to keep the mood light. Jack followed your lead, sitting down with you a slight laugh escaping.

“I resent that,” he said, a playful smirk softening his features. The tension between you seemed to ease, the conversation shifting to something more bearable.

“You have to talk to him though because he wants what you want,” Jack said after a moment, his tone growing serious again. “And I’d rather not lose my best friend… and you, obviously. Me and him are fine… shitty but fine. I get it, you’re very lovable.” He cooed gently as you leaned your head onto his shoulder. “So now it’s on you two to hash whatever it is out and if you want to give it a go…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hands, his discomfort with the situation palpable. “It’s disgusting, and I’ll hate it, but if you… you know.” You couldn’t help but smile at his awkward attempt at giving his blessing.

“I don’t need your approval,” you teased, though the look in your eyes betrayed how much it meant to you. “But it’s helpful. I’ll see if he’ll talk to me again.” Jack rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile on his face.

“He will. As much as I wish he was stupid enough not too, he’s not.” He kissed the top of your head with a playful aggression and shoved you away from him a little creating some distance teasingly. You smiled appreciating that you had your brother back. The jack that would kiss your head one moment, and shove you the next. “So, if you two get together, I’m gonna have to deal with him even more, aren’t I?” He looked at you with a cheeky smile.

“Probably,” you said with a grin. Jack groaned sarcastically and dramatically, leaning back in his chair. “And you’ll love it too.” You flashed him a big toothy smile.

“Oh that’s great. Just great.” He laughed. You giggled, the sound light and full of relief. For the first time in days, things felt a little less broken between you and your brother. But then the room fell silent and not comfortable. Jack had more to say and you could feel it. You weren’t out of the woods in the way you thought you might’ve been. The pendulum of emotions kept swinging.

“Y/N… you’re so important to me. I’m sorry I said those things,” Jack began, his voice soft but thick with emotion. He cleared his throat, looking down at his hands as he spoke. “It was the heat of the moment, and even though it was wrong, I just… I was protecting myself from the hurt. The idea of losing you to someone else—even to Trent—hurt.” You felt a lump rise in your throat, his sincerity cutting through all the tension and hurt that had built between you.

“Jack,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m always yours. You’re all I have. I never meant to hurt you or hide anything. It was just… scary because, you know…” You hesitated, tears welling in your eyes. “I… I’ve always loved him. And I’m sorry it ended up being your best friend, but—” Jack held up a hand, cutting you off gently.

“I know,” he said with a small, sad smile. “It’s fine. Mum used to always tell me you were my best bet at getting a brother in the family. I guess if you’re with Trent, he’s locked in as my best mate, then…” He let out a soft laugh, the teasing edge in his voice doing little to hide the bittersweetness of his words. You couldn’t help but smile through your tears.

“Yeah, well, she was rarely wrong.” You cooed imagining your mum urging you to tell Trent you loved him in writing. Jack nodded, his expression softening as he looked at you.

“She was rarely wrong,” he repeated quietly. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“I’m going to go, okay?” you murmured against his shoulder, your voice gentle. Jack pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing playfully.

“Yeah, where?” he teased, though you both knew the answer. You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the grin that spread across your face.

“Where do you think?” You teased him back.

“Noahs?” he said jokingly, shaking his head with a mock sigh. You shot him an annoyed look. “Too soon? Sorry.” He smiled and you laughed, swiping at your lingering tears as you stood up. “Just tell him what you want. But don’t get too comfortable, yeah? I’m still keeping an eye on him.” He looked at you as he stood up beside you. He had to leave Layla’s afterall too. “Love you so so much.” He wrapped you in another tight embrace before he let go.

“I will. Love you Jacky boy, more than anything.” And as you walked away, the warmth of his acceptance settled deep in your chest. For the first time in what felt like forever, things between you and Jack felt like they might actually be okay, Maybe if Trent wanted this too you could make it all work, maybe this would work.

You drove straight to Trent’s, Jack’s begrudging yet loving approval filling you with a mixture of relief and nervous energy. Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel as you pulled up outside his house. The plan had been impulsive—Trent needed to know—but as you sat there staring at his door, doubt started to creep in. You almost turned the car around, but instead, you grabbed your phone and clicked his contact.

“T…” you said softly, your voice tinged with hesitation.

“Baby, hey, you alright?” He answered almost immediately. His tone was cautious, unsure, as though he wasn’t sure if this was the call that would end everything. “You called…” He said vaguely. While he got his go ahead from Jack he didn’t know what you’d think. Maybe it all had been too much. Maybe you didn’t think it was worth it. But then your voice cut off the ones in his head.

“I’m outside. I hope that’s okay,” you admitted, awkwardly glancing at his house.

“Fuck, really?” he yelped, his surprise palpable. You hummed nervously in response, hoping the reaction was a good one. It was, but you had no idea what he was thinking. Trent had no clue Jack had spoken to you, let alone that Jack had finally given his blessing—albeit begrudgingly. Trent didn’t know what Jack had told you or how you felt after your talk with him. For all he knew, this could’ve been you showing up to end things officially.

“Yeah, um… Should I not?” you asked, suddenly worried.

“No! No, don’t leave,” Trent said quickly. His voice was breathless with urgency, almost as if he’d leapt off the couch. Taking a deep breath, you hung up the phone and stepped out of the car. Trent rushed to meet you in the drive of his house.

“C’mere,” Trent murmured, his voice low and steady, as he tugged you gently into his arms. He pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was soft yet insistent, grounding you in a way nothing else could. His touch was familiar, his scent warm and calming, yet your stomach twisted with nerves. When he pulled back slightly, his thumb grazed your cheek as he looked at you, his expression serious.

“I didn’t hear from you yet. I didn’t want to pressure you, so… I’m sorry for—” You attempted to rattle on, you opened your mouth to keep on, but he leaned in again, unable to resist now that you were back in his proximity, cutting off your words with another kiss, deeper this time. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that spoke volumes, as if he was trying to make you feel every emotion he couldn’t yet put into words.

“I just didn’t want to bother you or upset you more,” he finally admitted, his forehead resting against yours. His warm breath fanned your face. “I wanted you to take your space, baby. Whatever you needed but….” The affection and thoughtfulness in his voice made your chest ache, and you nodded quickly, biting your lip as tears threatened to spill. But then Trent pulled back entirely, his hands falling to his sides, and something flickered in his expression—fear. Real, raw fear that startled you more than anything. “Baby,” he started hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked like he was preparing himself for the worst. “I talked to Jack but I still hadn’t heard from you…” He exhaled shakily, his gaze darting away before landing back on yours. “So… is this…. Is this not what you want to do? Or—or maybe I’m not what you want.”

“No.” The word left you instantly, instinctively. You shook your head, your heart lurching at the vulnerability in his voice. “I want you. Trust me. So, so much.” You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. “But I talked to Jack too.” At that, Trent stilled. His body tensed, and he searched your face like he was bracing himself for a blow. His lips parted slightly, but no words came out. “He said he was sorry,” you finally continued, your voice careful and slow, trying to convey what you needed to say. “He doesn’t want to lose you as a friend.” Trent blinked, and for a moment, you could see the relief flood his features. But his shoulders didn’t quite relax, and you realized he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, bracing himself for a blow.

“Can we talk about us?” he asked cautiously, his voice soft but edged with apprehension. “Or… did you come here for him?” Trent’s mind was scrambled. He couldn’t decide where you were at. Was that just a goodbye kiss?

“No.” You stepped closer, your hands trembling slightly as they slid up to rest on his chest before curling around his neck. You clearly weren’t articulating your thoughts well. So you puffed out some air to reset. “No, I’m here for me. For us.” His hands landed on your waist, but his grip was tentative, unsure. You could see it in his eyes too. “But if—if this is too much for you,” you babbled, the words tumbling out in a rush before you could stop them. “I guess… I guess that’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine. It’s awful. It sucks, and it makes me feel sick, but I’d rather know than be dragged along. If you don’t want this, if you don’t want me, just—”

“Y/N,” Trent interrupted gently, his voice steady but firm. His hands came up to cup your face, holding you in place as his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that silenced your spiraling thoughts. “Stop. Do you love me?” He asked you point blank. You looked back at him petrified by your own answer. You could only nod slowly. “And I love you.” He told you earnestly. Your breath caught in your throat at his words. They felt like a balm, but the sting of doubt still lingered.

“Are you just saying that?” you whispered, your voice trembling. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you looked at him, scared to believe it, scared to hope. “I know you’ve said it before…”

“No.” Trent’s response was immediate, his tone unwavering, his big, doe-like eyes boring into yours with a sincerity that stole the air from your lungs. “Not to you. It’s different.”

“Different?” you repeated skeptically, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/N,” he said again, his voice soft but filled with so much conviction that it made your knees weak. His thumbs stroked your cheeks, brushing away the tears that had started to fall. “I love you. You. It’s different because I’ve only ever wanted it to be you.” The rawness of his confession, the vulnerability in his voice, cracked through every wall you had left. A sob escaped your lips as you leaned into him, your arms tightening around his neck. And this time, when Trent kissed you, it wasn’t rushed or frantic or uncertain. It was steady, sure, and filled with so much love that it made your heart feel like it might burst. In that moment, everything else faded away. There was no Jack, no fear, no doubt—just you and Trent, wrapped up in each other, holding on as tightly as you could.

As you stepped into Trent’s house, it felt different. The air was alive with chatter, laughter, and warmth—a house full of life, full of family. Trent’s entire family were all over for a meal, a complete family. It was familiar yet bittersweet, stirring something deep inside you that made your chest ache. The feeling of your own tattered, rose within you. You hesitated just inside the door, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag, you hadn’t realized his entire family was over, you wiped under your eye hoping your mascara hadn’t run from all the crying outside.

“Well, c’mon, pretty girl,” Trent teased, his voice soft but encouraging as he reached for your hand. “Look perfect, yeah?” He kissed your temple. His touch was grounding, and you nodded, letting him guide you further inside.

“Mum, brought you a present!” The moment you crossed the threshold into the living room, Trent’s playful voice rang out. You barely had time to process what he said before Dianne turned around, her face lighting up with pure joy. Her gasp was loud and genuine as her hands flew to her chest.

“Oh, my beautiful girl! Haven’t seen you in ages!” she exclaimed, rushing forward to wrap you in one of her signature cuddles—warm, tight, and overflowing with love. You couldn’t help but laugh, a little nervously but genuinely touched by her reaction.

“Hi, Di,” you greeted, the nickname rolling off your tongue like you’d never stopped using it. “Missed you too.” And you meant it. You had missed her. Missed them. It hit you then just how much you’d been avoiding—his family, the normalcy of it all. For months, you’d been hiding, sneaking around, building a secret world with Trent that kept the rest of life at arm’s length. But standing here now, surrounded by the warmth of his home and his family, you realized how much you’d longed for this, how much you’d missed it without even knowing. Dianne pulled back just enough to hold you at arm’s length, studying your face with a motherly concern that made your heart squeeze.

“You look tired, love. Are you eating enough? How’s everything been?” Before you could answer, Trent chuckled, stepping beside you and placing a protective arm around your waist.

“Mum, let her breathe. She just got here.” He cooed gently.

“Oh, hush, you,” Dianne said, swatting at him playfully before turning her attention back to you. “It’s just so good to see you, darling. Really.” The rest of the room had gone quieter, eyes subtly drifting toward you. Trent’s brothers and cousins were scattered about, their curious gazes darting between you and him. It wasn’t judgmental—more like surprise. His brothers in particular looks lingered a little longer. You’d been an idea for so long, Jack’s little sister, a punchline tease about a crush, and now here you were, hand in hand with Trent, a silent statement you both had yet to put into words.

“Come sit, love,” Dianne insisted, pulling you toward the sofa. “Tell me everything. Where have you been darling? And don’t even think about saying you’ve been too busy for us, because I know someone has been stealing some of your time.” She cooed smugly with a sly smile. Trent let you go with a small nudge of encouragement, his eyes soft as he watched you settle in. The house was bustling, and the atmosphere was undeniably warm, but your heart still raced. This wasn’t just a visit. It was an unveiling, a step into the life you and Trent had been building together, one that no longer hid in the shadows. And as you sat there, laughing nervously at Dianne’s endless questions and catching the amused glances from his brother’s, Trent sat beside you, his knee brushing against yours in quiet reassurance. His hand found yours again, resting between you, a silent but steady reminder.

When it was time for lunch, the table was buzzing with chatter, a mix of laughter and overlapping conversations as everyone dug into the food on the back garden’s patio. The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over everything, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself relax. You were seated between Dianne and Trent, with his brothers and cousins scattered around the table. Across from you, Michael, his dad, had a kind smile on his face as he passed a dish of roasted vegetables. It felt warm, natural, like you belonged here. Dianne leaned closer to you, her voice soft but affectionate as she reached for your hand.

“Gosh, hun, more and more you look just like your mum,” she said with a wistful smile. The way the sun caught the highlight of your cheek bone reminding her of her friend. You felt your throat tighten slightly at the mention of your mum, but before you could respond, Michael chimed in.

“She was beautiful, lovely too,” he said warmly and fondly. Your parents were all close, they had to be because of Jack and Trent and since her passing, the subject of your mum was never taboo. You liked to hear about her but it still ached every time. “Your dad’s a good man as well, but we don’t see him as much anymore.” Micheal cooed gently. You nodded, swallowing hard as you tried to keep your voice steady.

“Yeah, we don’t see him much either…” you trailed off, the weight of the words sitting heavy in the air for a moment but you forced a quiet chuckle. “But I have Jack,” you added, trying to lighten the mood, though the words came out softer than you intended. The mention of Jack stung though, a fresh reminder of the recent tension between you two. You’d spoken to him, yes, you got the approval, yes, and you were with Trent now but things still felt fractured, and saying his name aloud made it all feel so much more real.

“And me, baby,” Trent’s voice broke through your thoughts, grounding you as he leaned over to kiss your temple. His lips lingered there for a moment, warm and reassuring. You blinked up at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips despite the emotions swirling inside you. Dianne’s eyes sparkled as she bit her lip, clearly overjoyed to see Trent openly showing you affection.

“We’re always here too, hun,” Dianne said gently, her voice filled with sincerity. “You know that, right? If you ever need anything. And I’m sure you’ve got your girlfriends—Layla and the lot—but you can always come to me if you need to complain about him.” She grinned, pinching at Trent’s side playfully.

“Oi, Mum!” Trent yelped, laughing as he leaned away from her. The exchange made you laugh too, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep, lifting the heaviness that had been following you. It felt good to be here, to be surrounded by a full, loving family.

“I mean it,” Dianne continued, her tone softening again as she gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re always a part of our family, sweetheart. Always.” Her words hit you harder than you expected. It wasn’t just something she was saying to be polite—she meant it. You felt it in every gesture, every glance, every word. And as you looked around the table, at Trent’s brothers bickering good-naturedly, at Michael’s quiet but warm presence, and at Trent himself, who was watching you with a small, knowing smile, you realized something. For the first time in days, you didn’t feel alone.

After the plates were cleared and the last of the food put away, you found yourself in the kitchen with Dianne, sleeves rolled up as the two of you tackled the dishes. The conversation flowed easily—lighthearted banter about Trent’s childhood clumsiness, teasing remarks about his brothers and Jack, and a few loving jabs at how much trouble he probably gave you. But then, as you placed the last dish on the drying rack, Dianne turned to you. Her warm, knowing eyes searched your face, and before you could even process what was happening, she wrapped her arms around you. Not a polite hug, but a real one. One that broke through all the walls you’d built up.

“It’ll all be okay,” she whispered softly, her voice filled with maternal certainty. The words pierced through your defenses, as if she could see every ounce of your hurt—the tension in your shoulders, the weight you carried in your chest, the unspoken pain in your eyes. You wanted to believe her. You really did. You managed a small, faux smile, nodding in acknowledgment before mumbling something about needing the bathroom. You slipped away quickly, your steps echoing faintly as you walked down the corridor. The further you got from the kitchen, the tighter your chest felt. When you reached the bathroom, you locked the door behind you, your hands trembling slightly as you gripped the edge of the sink. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the cracks in your carefully crafted facade starting to show. And then it hit you. The tidal wave of everything you’d been holding back came crashing down all at once—the mess you’d made by sneaking around with Trent, the guilt over the hurt you’d caused Jack, the overwhelming love and validation you finally felt from Trent, the emptiness of missing your parents and the family you once had. It was all too much. Your chest heaved as you choked out a sob, tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying to stifle the sounds, but it was no use. The floodgates had opened, and there was no stopping it now. You slid down to the floor, your back pressed against the door as you hugged your knees to your chest. The emotions swirled together, leaving you feeling raw and exposed. You didn’t even know how long you stayed like that, lost in the storm of your feelings before you stood back up attempting to calm yourself down but one look back at yourself in the mirror set you off again.

Trent had been watching you all afternoon, a quiet intensity in his gaze. He noticed the small shifts in your demeanor: how your laugh didn’t quite reach your eyes, how you stared off into the distance when you thought no one was looking, and the faint tremor in your hands as you helped Dianne clear the table. He could feel it in his gut—something wasn’t right. When you excused yourself to the bathroom, he waited. At first, he thought maybe you just needed a moment to yourself, but when you didn’t return after several minutes, unease settled over him like a heavy fog. He got up and followed you, his footsteps hesitant but purposeful. He pushed the door open gently and froze at the sight of you. You were leaning over the sink, your hands gripping the edge so tightly that your knuckles were a shade lighter. Your body shook with silent sobs, tears streaming down your face. You didn’t even notice him come in at first, too lost in your emotions to register his presence.

“Baby,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the stillness of the room.Your head snapped up, and when your tear-streaked eyes met his, the dam broke completely. The sobs you’d been holding back came pouring out, raw and unrestrained. “Baby, hey, what’s wrong?” Trent asked, rushing to your side. His hands found your face, cupping it gently as his thumbs wiped at your tears, though they kept falling faster than he could keep up. “Talk to me.”

“I—I don’t know,” you stammered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you were feeling. “It’s just… when your mum hugged me, she really hugged me. And it just—it broke me, T.” Trent’s brows knitted together in concern, his hands still cradling your face.

“That’s a good thing, though, pretty girl.” he told you, his voice low and careful. You nodded, but a fresh wave of tears spilled down your cheeks.

“It is. It is, but it made me feel so much all at once. It made me think about my mum and dad and how much I miss them. And then Jack—I’ve hurt him so much, and I just—I feel like I’ve made such a mess of everything.” Your words came out in a torrent, your chest heaving with the effort of getting them out. Trent’s heart broke for you. He hated seeing you like this, so overwhelmed and lost. Without another word, he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“Hey, hey, shh,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he stroked your back. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, okay? You’ve got me. We decided that, yeah?” You clung to him, your fingers curling into his shirt as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded.

“I need this to work, T,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. “I can’t lose all of this. I can’t lose you.” Your panic was an onslaught of imagining your life with anymore loss. Whatever this was with Trent, it needed to work. Trent leaned back slightly, just enough to cup your face again. He tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him. His dark eyes were full of unwavering determination, his jaw set.

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said firmly, his voice thick with emotion. “You have me, baby. You’ve always had me, and you always will. We’ll figure it all out, I promise. We’re moving forward. I love you.” Your tears slowed as his words wrapped around your heart like a lifeline. You nodded, sniffing softly.

“Okay,” you whispered, though the fear still lingered in your chest. “I love you too.” You pouted. Trent pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.

“You’re allowed to feel everything you’re feeling,” he said gently. “But don’t ever think for a second that you’re alone with it. You’re not. Not as long as I’m here.” You exhaled shakily, your body relaxing slightly against his.

“I just… I don’t know how to fix everything,” you admitted, your voice small.

“We’ll fix it together,” Trent promised, his hands moving to hold yours. “One step at a time, okay? No rush, no pressure. Just us.” The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache in a different way—one filled with hope instead of despair. You squeezed his hands, grounding yourself in his presence.

“Okay,” you whispered again, this time with a little more strength. Trent smiled, leaning down to kiss you softly.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured against your lips. “I’ve got you and we’ve got this.” And you believed him.

When you came home, it felt almost surreal. The house was quiet except for the faint sounds of a basketball game playing on the TV in the living room. Your footsteps echoed slightly as you set your bag down by the door, the weight of the day still heavy on your shoulders. You glanced around the space, noticing little things that made it feel unmistakably like home—Jack’s trainers kicked off haphazardly by the door, a half-empty glass of water on the kitchen counter, and his jacket thrown over the back of a chair. It wasn’t much, but it was familiar.

“Hey,” you called out hesitantly, stepping further inside. Jack’s head turned slightly from where he was slouched on the couch, eyes fixed on the game.

“Hey,” he replied casually, but there was a softness to his tone that hadn’t been there before. You walked over and plopped down next to him, your body sinking into the worn cushions. You didn’t say anything at first, just letting the sounds of the game fill the silence between you. Jack glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a small smirk forming on his face.

“So, you his girlfriend yet?” he teased, his voice light but with an underlying curiosity and begrudgement. You groaned, tilting your head back dramatically.

“No…” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to stop a small smile from tugging at your lips. “We just had lunch. His parents were over.” Jack raised an eyebrow, sitting up slightly.

“Oh yeah? Big Mike cook up?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, nodding. “It was good… the usual.” There was a moment of silence where you could feel Jack processing your words. His eyes flicked back to the screen, but you could tell his mind wasn’t on the game anymore.

“That’s nice,” he said finally, his tone softer now. “It’s been a minute since I’ve been over there. Feels weird.” He admitted. Trent and him hadn’t spent a lot of time together alone since you started this whole thing. And so naturally, Jack hadn’t seen Trent’s family, or even his house in a while. You nodded, biting your lip.

“Yeah, I guess it does.” The guilt twisted in your stomach again, the thought of how much Jack had been left out hitting you harder than you expected. You noticed the shift in his mood. “But I’m getting hungry again so for dinner… want me to make something?” you asked hesitantly but with an idea already in mind. Jack hummed.

You tucked off to the kitchen, the weight of the day lingering but softened by the comfort of routine. You pulled out everything you needed to make your mum’s go-to fix-all meal, one that seemed to soothe whatever needed soothing—hearts, stomachs, spats after footy matches, lately you and Trent, or even broken family dynamics. It was the one dish that seemed to make everything feel a little less heavy—something you’d both grown up with and carried into your adult lives. Cooking it now felt like a small bridge back to the way things used to be. The familiar rhythm of slicing, stirring, and seasoning was grounding, a small act of care in a world that sometimes felt too overwhelming. Jack wandered into the kitchen not long after, drawn by the scent wafting through the air. He leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just watched you slice vegetables with a quiet fondness. The tension between you two had been unbearable lately, but right now, watching you cook, it felt like home again.

“Aw, Y/N… you’re actually the best,” he finally said, his voice breaking the silence as he tilted his head with that familiar crooked smile that always made you feel like his little sister, no matter how grown up you were. You smirked, not looking up from your chopping.

“And to think you were going to let me go…” you teased, the words light but carrying just a hint of seriousness. Jack straightened slightly, his expression softening as he stepped further into the room.

“Y/N…” he said quietly, his voice low and steady, the usual teasing gone, now it was laced with regret. He pushed off the doorway and moved to sit at the kitchen island, his eyes fixed on you. “I wasn’t actually going to do anything. I was hurt, yeah, but I love you. You’re my little sister. I just… I care. A lot.” He cooed. You paused for a moment, letting his words sink in before humming quietly. Your hands slowed as his words hit you, and you glanced at him over your shoulder. The corners of your mouth tugged upward into a small, appreciative smile.

“I know,” you said softly , your voice just above a whisper but filled with sincerity. You glanced over at him, offering a small smile. “Thank you for caring.” Jack nodded, watching you work with a rare tenderness in his eyes. You glanced over at him, offering a small smile. When you finished cooking, you slid the plates across the island toward him before coming around to sit next to him. You watched as he took his first bite, his face lighting up in approval.

“God, this is so good,” Jack said between bites. You hummed with satisfaction and pride at your handiwork. You grinned, picking at your own plate.

“You know,” you began, poking at your food with a fork, “I made this for T the other week.” you said, testing the waters with a careful glance at him.Jack paused mid-bite, his fork hovering in the air as he processed your words. At first, his face was unreadable, but then a slow grin spread across his face, shaking his head.

“Lucky bastard,” he said, his tone teasing but with no real venom, shaking his head as he took a bite, relishing the familiar flavors yet something completely unfamiliar; you and Trent.. “But to be fair,” he added, his grin widening, “Good on you. I mean, it works every time. I’m assuming it worked between you two?” He looked at you and you nodded.

“It’s working for us now, isn’t it?” You smirked knowingly. Jack laughed, a sound that felt like a balm to your heart.

“Yeah, it’s working for us,” he agreed, pinching at your side like he used to when you were kids.

“For us, every time,” you confirmed, nudging him playfully with your elbow. Jack laughed, the sound filling the kitchen with an ease you hadn’t felt in weeks. For the first time in a while. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like you were back on solid ground with Jack. And it wasn’t just the meal—it was the love that came with it, the unspoken understanding that no matter what happened, you’d always have each other.

“Hey, Jack… Can I show you something?” you asked softly as he was putting away the dishes from dinner. Jack looked over his shoulder at you, curiosity piqued.

“Yeah, go on. What’s up?” he asked, drying his hands with a tea towel.

“Well, hold on—it’s upstairs,” you said, your tone holding a hint of excitement. Jack raised an eyebrow, impatient as always.

“I’ll just come with. What is it?” he asked, already following you toward the stairs, his familiar sibling banter making you smile. When you reached your room, you started rummaging through your things, finally pulling out the worn book of poems your mum had left you. Jack sat on the edge of your bed, his hands resting on his knees as he watched you curiously.

“Mum left me this,” you began, sitting down beside him. You held the book up, running your fingers gently over the faded cover. “It’s just a bunch of poems, but… she annotated the whole thing. Like, all of it.” Your voice softened as you opened the book, flipping through pages filled with your mum’s handwriting. You stopped on a particularly meaningful page and handed the book to Jack, your fingers lingering for a moment before letting go. Jack took it carefully, his usual easy demeanor replaced by something quieter, more reverent. His eyes scanned the page, catching on her familiar handwriting, and you saw his jaw tighten. He blinked rapidly, trying to keep his emotions in check, but you could see the tears welling in his eyes.

“Mum,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. He traced her words with his thumb, pausing on a note she’d written in the margin. “She always wrote like this… It was like she could read minds...” He muttered with sadness but you sadly giggled knowing it was a true statement. As Jack read her writing over again. The seal of approval. ‘Always reminds me of you and TAA—tell him one day, okay?.’ He sighed his heart aching, missing your mum, missing having her help in real time.

“She did,” you agreed, leaning closer to him. “It doesn’t make anything better about how we went about things, but… maybe it’s something.” You cooed. Jack swallowed hard, still looking at the page.

“She was rarely wrong, you know,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. You hummed. He tapped at the letters ‘TAA’ your mum had written. “I love you… but you deserve to be loved, Y/N,” Jack said, turning his gaze to you. “And I know he loves you too. Mum was right—you should’ve told him. And as hard as it is for me to stomach… I’m glad he told you.” He admitted. His words hit you like a wave, a mixture of relief and guilt washing over you.

“You think she’d be okay with all this?” you asked quietly, your fingers brushing over the edges of the book. Jack nodded, his lips quirking into a small, bittersweet smile.

“Yeah. She’d probably say, ‘Jack, stop being such a pain in the ass, and let your sister be happy.’” You laughed through the tears that threatened to spill over.

“Sounds about right.” You giggled, blinking back tears. Jack closed the book gently and handed it back to you. “You know, she always told me everyone likes to know they’re loved. No matter why or how, they should hear it,” you said, looking at him pointedly. You were recalling the same story you told Trent at the beach. The advice you should've taken earlier. Jack’s eyes flickered with understanding as he caught the subtext in your words.

“You’re talking about Meg, I’m assuming,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“You love her, Jack,” you said simply. “And if you don’t tell her, you might miss your chance. Trust me, I know how hard it is to just sit with it, harbouring it.” You cooed gently. Jack sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Taking advice from his little sister is not easy, but you, like your mother, were rarely wrong.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” He muttered. You reached out and put your hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Mum was rarely wrong, remember?” You cooed with a singsong tone. Jack chuckled, shaking his head.

“She really wasn’t.” For a moment, the two of you sat there in silence, the weight of your mum’s presence filling the room. It was a quiet kind of healing, the kind only family could bring.

That night, you climbed into bed, feeling the weight of the day settle over you. Things with Jack felt like they were finally on the mend, and things with Trent were… good. But what did ‘good’ even mean now? Were you together? Was it too soon to ask? Would it make him pull away if you did? You stared at your phone, debating whether to call him. The screen lit up suddenly, Trent’s name appearing. You hadn’t even realized you’d texted him first.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he said, his voice soft and warm.

“Hi, T,” you replied, the sound of his voice easing some of your nerves.

“You okay? You sound… quiet,” he said, always attuned to your moods.

“Yeah, I guess… So…. this is just how it is now,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You knew you could be on the phone with him, it wasn’t a secret anymore but it felt odd. Open. You didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but the uncertainty was gnawing at you.

“How it is?” Trent asked, a gentle curiosity in his tone. You bit your lip, wishing he were there with you, holding you, grounding you. It was always so much easier when you were together.

“I don’t know. nevermind.” You murmured not wanting to start something bigger. He was quiet for a moment, his voice softening further when he finally spoke.

“I love you—that’s how it is now. Yeah?” He cooed. The way he said it made your chest ache, his certainty a balm to your doubts. “Wish I was with you.” He reaffirmed as if he could read your mind.

“Yeah… my T,” you sighed, a mix of affection and longing filling your voice.

“All yours,” he cooed, as if it were the simplest truth in the world. You felt a small smile tug at your lips, but your mind was still racing. The day had been so full of emotion that now, in the stillness of your room, your thoughts were louder than ever but then an image flashed in your mind. The vision of if Trent was in bed with you… and all the times he had been and how good it felt and how you missed it.

"T... I really miss you, baby," you sighed, your voice trembling with longing, practically a moan. It was a zero to sixty moment. Suddenly your hormones took over and you couldn't hold it together anymore. A switch from longing to lust in an instant. Trent could hear your whine, he picked up on the new direction of the conversation immediately.

"God, your voice is my favorite sound," Trent replied instantly, his words making your heart ache in the best way. You let out a small giggle, trying to push away the sadness and focus on the warmth his voice gave you. But the desperation bubbling in your chest wasn’t going to be ignored.

"I miss your voice in my ear," you murmured, your tone suggestive. Trent groaned softly on the other end.

"Yeah? You miss me telling you how sexy you are? What a good girl you are f'me?" His voice was rough, low, and it sent a shiver through your body. You sank further into your bed, the soft rustle of the duvet audible through the phone. Trent leaned back against his headboard, trying to compose himself as his imagination took over, the thought of you making it impossible to stay calm.

"T, I miss being close to you," you admitted, your voice heavy with need.

"Me too, baby. Miss your body so much," he breathed, his tone thick with longing. "Do me a favor, yeah?" Your lips curled into a small smile. You'd do anything to feel close to him again, even if it was just through the sound of his voice.

"Whatever you want," you replied earnestly. If this is how it was, maybe you liked it.

"Touch yourself for me," he asked, the innocence in his tone at odds with the heat simmering in his words. Your hand slipped into your jogger, and down to your panties, your fingers gliding through your wet folds as you let out a soft moan.

"T... I'm already so fucking wet. I miss you so much," you whimpered.Trent exhaled sharply, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah? Fuck, baby, I love knowing I can make you like this even when I'm not there." He hummed.

"Baby..." you hesitated, the ache in your chest mixing with the burning need in your body. "Can I see you?" Your phone buzzed with an incoming FaceTime call before you even heard his answer. You accepted it, and there he was—his warm brown eyes clouded with lust, his chest bare, and his hand already grazing his toned stomach.

"Lemme see that pretty pussy," he said, his voice thick and commanding. You discarded your joggers entirely and leaned back, propping your phone up so he could see you. Slowly, you spread your legs, your fingers running through your folds to gather your slick, and Trent's breath hitched.

"Fuck," he groaned. "Suck on your fingers like it's my cock, baby." You dragged your wet fingers up your body, pulling your shirt up to expose more skin. Locking eyes with him through the screen, you slid your fingers into your mouth, sucking on them slowly, your tongue circling and teasing in a way that had his jaw tightening.

"Do you miss having your cock sucked?" you asked boldly, your voice low and sultry as you pulled your fingers free. Trent let out a choked laugh, his hand sliding down to his cock.

"Yeah, baby. Miss your mouth so much. Fuck, you're perfect." He started stroking himself, his hand moving in sync with the rhythm of your fingers as they dipped back down to your wet core. "Slide them in, baby. Let me see you."

"T... I miss you," you whimpered, sliding two fingers into yourself, your back arching at the sensation. "Fuck, I need you."

"Need you too, baby," he groaned, his voice rough with desire. "Want to feel that pussy on my cock again. Miss the way you feel, the way you sound when you're close. You close f’me?" His words pushed you closer to the edge, your breathing quickening as your fingers moved faster.

"Fuck, T... I'm close," you whimpered, your mind clouded with images of him-his touch, his warmth, his weight pressing into you.

"Be a good girl and cum f'me," he urged, his voice tight as he watched you fall apart on his screen. “Let me see you cum.” He commanded.

"Fuck... fuck..." you gasped, your body trembling as the wave of your orgasm hit, white-hot pleasure surging through you.

"That's it, baby," Trent groaned, his hand moving faster as he watched you come undone. "Fuck, I'm cumming." He let out a low moan, his head falling back against the headboard as he came, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the sounds of your breathing filling the quiet.

“I miss you," you murmured, pulling the duvet back over your body, feeling spent but still aching for his presence. “Come back.” You pouted. He smiled admiring the cute roll of your bottom lip.

"Miss you too, baby. Soon, yeah?" he replied, his voice soft but full of promise.

"Yeah. Soon," you whispered, wishing with everything in you that it could be now.

“Alright, you gonna have a better sleep now though?” He cheekily smirked. Admittedly, you slept better after an orgasm. Who didn’t. You nodded with a shy smile still feeling your heart race from your high. “Good girl. Night, baby. I’m up early for my flight but I’ll text you. Love you so much,” Trent added, his words tender, but you barely registered them.

“Love you too,” you replied softly before hanging up. But even as the call ended, your thoughts didn’t. The worst kind of post nut clarity fell over you. The kind where you wondered what the hell just happened? Trent seemed to have a way of pulling you out of reality and right now with his presence gone you were crashing back down into it again. Jack’s question earlier rang in your mind: Are you his girlfriend yet? The answer felt simple, but it wasn’t. Why weren’t you? What was stopping either of you from saying it out loud? Your thoughts spiraled, each one tugging at your insecurities. Was Trent just waiting for the right time? Did he think it was too soon? Or worse—did he not want that at all? But you just said you loved each other, none of it made sense. You sighed deeply, curling into yourself under the covers, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. You tried to remind yourself of his words, the way he’d said, I love you, like he meant it with every fiber of his being. But still, as you drifted off to sleep, the question lingered in your heart: When would you finally be his, and would he ever truly be yours?

•

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Next part - Chapter 18 - Safe xx

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